Jack Troy Marion Read online

  Raking his shiny black, long hair from his neanderthal brow ridge, Troy asked me, “David says she’s a ballerina?”

  “Yep.”

  “She any good?”

  “Better than good. But that ballet stuff isn’t for me. I’m not the la-dee-dah theater type.”

  “I like theater.”

  I stared at him. “Shut up.”

  And then she called me.

  I let it go to voicemail.

  How many times have I listened to that sultry voice saying I’m the only one who can help her. “My dad is out of control and I’m tired. I…got hurt recently. I don’t feel like me right now. I guess I need to heal. Can you help me, Jack? I need you.”

  I need you.

  For the love of God.

  I’m just checking on her in order to see how she is. Nothing wrong with that. It’s eight o’clock in the morning. What could happen?

  It’s the right thing to do.

  Divorce is hard on any kid.

  Even ones who are twenty-one, now.

  And how’d she get hurt? Some guy break her heart? Give me his number and I’ll mess him up.

  How is she dating guys her age, anyway, and not puking? Most are the product of a generation who essentially taught them that being an emotional wimp was hot.

  What I think is hysterical is that women didn’t really mean it. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. They meant it enough to embed it into every son’s psyche they could, after they’d gotten hurt by men.

  Be in touch with your feelings!

  Tell your Mom everything!

  It’s okay to cry!

  The things some ladies taught their sons they wouldn’t want in their husbands. They didn’t think ahead. And this generation of women are paying for it.

  Sure, it’s okay to cry when something tragic happens. But men feel better when we’re stronger and know that whatever life throws our way, we can take it and protect ourselves and the ones we love.

  If we can trust ourselves and know that we’re not going to break like a dead stick under someone’s boot, we walk straighter. That’s just a fact. Because it’s also a damn fact that the world is full of people who will walk on you if you let them.

  There’s something honest and right about standing up to life. We all go through rough times. Men feel best when we aren’t afraid of those bumps.

  I couldn’t turn Marion down when she called. How could I? Please help me will make me come running faster than I don’t need you, any day. I’m needed, and I can handle the job.

  Sign.

  Me.

  Up.

  I’ll work for free.

  Holy shit, she answered my text.

  Things just got worse, Jack. I need you. Please hurry.

  Time to break a few speeding laws.

  MARION

  T eeka gulps water like someone released her from a fishing net. Gasping for air, she locks eyes with me. “I’m sorry, Mar.”

  “No, you’re not. Of course you’re not. You are fully aware that stuff is poison. And expensive!”

  “What stuff?” she laughs, pointing at my silk pajama shorts and braless tank. “Your Dad’s best friend is coming and you’re wearing this? Are you about to get laid?”

  I wish. “When are you packing?”

  Teeka fixes her lipstick in the reflection of our microwave, glancing over with an amused smile because my answer wasn’t ‘no.’ She shuts the lipstick tube with a pop. “If he wants to take on the two of us, I’m down. My habit isn’t cheap.” At my horrified expression, she cries out, “I’m kidding!”

  “Are you?” I hobble to the couch and drop down with zero grace, odd since it’s ingrained in me. This damn cast is so freaking heavy. They gave me the new one for athletes that’s in trial. Adjusting my shorts, I call out to the kitchen, “Are you going to give me another month to find someone new, or what?”

  Trouble is, I paid the deposit. She moved in with me and has no reason to stick around, except friendship. Which means she’s outta here.

  “Did you say something?” Teeka asks while walking in, rummaging through her glittery bag and producing a victorious bag of illegal powder. Running over to show me she cries out, “Aha! I knew he was up to something. Donny was hovering over me before I left the party. He had this funny look in his eyes and I asked him what he was up to. Look at what a doll he is!”

  I dryly reply, “A real angel.”

  “You want some?”

  “Because that would solve all my problems.”

  “They’d feel solved,” she laughs while bouncing back to our kitchen counter to go to work on that ebbing high of hers.

  I listen to the tap tap tap of her credit card cutting up his gift. A sigh deflates my chest. “But they wouldn’t be solved, Teeka.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Can you do that in your room?”

  I hear a huge sniff before a grumbled, “Why is your dad’s friend coming over?” Teeka runs back into the living room with glee shining from dilated pupils. “I was kinda serious about joining in.”

  I glare at her. “Teeks, if you don’t get the fuck away from me right now, I’m going to hit you with my cast. It’s heavy and it’ll be painful.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “You’re moving out and not giving me any notice and now you want to do a three-way with my father’s best friend! Get out of here! I wish you’d never come home!”

  She steps closer, jamming her finger at me. “You’re such a biatch, Marion, you know that? It’s why I don’t care that I’m leaving you high and dry.” Her finger zigzags through the air. “Total fucking bee-to-the-ahtch!”

  A knock turns our heads.

  I jump up. “Go away!”

  “Maybe I’ll just answer that,” she smirks, and breaks into a run. In my current condition, she wins.

  Which really goads me.

  I’m the one who wins!

  I am!

  But lately?

  Not so much.

  Jack is standing on our shoddy welcome mat in suit pants and a white button-up shirt, no tie. The top two buttons are open revealing his hot tribal tattoo crawling toward his thick neck on the right side. The sexy strings of slender beads-and-leather necklaces he always wears, betray his inner rebellion to the business attire. And life.

  He’s staring at my roommate with the seriousness he is known for. She’s floating so high she can’t feel his gravity.

  But I can.

  I feel it in every cell.

  My memory didn’t exaggerate his sex appeal.

  As she reacts to his undeniable gorgeousness, Jack’s eyelids go heavy like he’s weighing a problem he doesn’t know how to solve. I don’t blame him for looking annoyed. She’s clearly high. Is that what he’s thinking?

  “Marion,” he growls as if he wishes Teeka would go away.

  She glances to me and back to him, wipes her nose, and says, “I don’t know if you want a threesome, but I’m down.”

  I’m not horrified easily. But this is Jack! He’s like a god in my mind, and not just because he looks like one.

  I can’t speak.

  He saves me by chuckling, “I remember the last time I did cocaine. I was about your age and I said stupid shit back then, too.”

  Teeka’s neck rolls. “Stupid shit?! Listen, Marion’s dad’s best friend, or whatever the fuck your name is, I’m totally sober. I just woke up and I had a lot of coffee, is all.”

  He gives a demeaning smirk as his eyes flick to the heels she dropped on her way in, then to the keys, and back to her. “Does coffee leave white powder on the little baby hairs under your nose? And I’m guessing those come-fuck-me pumps are yours.”

  She flips him off and storms off to her bedroom, throwing me a last look. “What an asshole.”

  That leaves me alone with Jack.

  My father’s hot pal.

  The man my mother eventually hated.

  Because he saw through her.

  But n
ow he’s looking right through me.

  “Hi Jack,” I whisper.

  He tips his head. “Marion.”

  Clearing my throat, I offer, “Would you er…like some coffee? Real coffee, I mean. Not the white kind.”

  “I’d love some.” He shuts the door.

  JACK

  Did she have to wear those silk shorts? A dancer’s body is a work of art, sculpted from years of intense control. I can’t help but look at her legs, even with one in a cast, and wonder how they’d feel around my neck.

  “What happened here?” I grunt, trying to keep my cock from waking up. “That why you called?”

  Long eyelashes float down, and she stops hobbling to the kitchen. Her fingers glide up the naked skin between her shorts and where the cast ends. “Oh this? Yes, this is partly why I called.” Her hands fly to cover her beautiful face and she begins to weep.

  I take her in my arms in what I’m hoping is a paternal embrace. Or at least a friendly and not you’re-mine-now-forever primal one. “Hey hey, Mar, shhh…I’m here.”

  She weeps, “I lost my big break, Jack!” really letting loose. I’m a little stunned by the outburst. It’s not like her. But then again, I’ve been out of the loop. Her shoulders are quivering, body melting into my hard muscles like she’s made of liquid. “I was the lead in a musical at The Alliance. Then this happened! I might never dance again.”

  “Don’t say that,” I rasp, silently cursing her out for smelling so damn good. “You’re not a quitter. I’ve never known anyone as bullheaded as you.”

  She rewards me with a laugh, but it disintegrates into tears immediately. Pulling back, Mar looks up with these huge, tear-filled, doe-eyes. I don’t think there’s a prettier girl in Georgia. She’s got one of those heart-shaped faces with full, pouty lips she didn’t pay for. Her eyelashes are as long as my cock. Okay, not that long. But I can’t stop thinking about my cock so it’s the best comparison I’ve got.

  “I’m not a quitter!”

  “I know you’re not.”

  She glances to my lips. “The doctor said I have brittle bones.”

  “Since when?” A frown deepens. “You’ve never broken a bone. Not that I can remember. Have you?”

  Shaking her head, Marion sniffles. But she’s staring at my mouth and I really need her to stop doing that. “No, I haven’t, Jack. Isn’t that crazy? They said I’ve been lucky. Can you believe that?”

  “They tested your density or something? How the fuck do they know?” I’m getting irritated and not only by stupid doctors putting ideas into her head that could weaken her personality. “Don’t listen to them. You’re a fighter. Always been one. Always need to be one. Hell, I remember you telling me off when I tried to get you to stop playing with Barbies when you were eleven. Remember that? You nearly ripped my head off.”

  She smiles, red eyes drying a little as her sadness simmers down. “You told Dad I was a bitch.”

  A laugh breaks out of me and I lean back on her counter, putting some blessed distance between us. “Didn’t know you heard that.”

  “I heard it,” she smiles with pride. “And I didn’t mind if that means strong and won’t take shit from a guy like you.”

  My eyes drop to her braless tank. Those nips are saying hello and it’s hard not to wave back. “You were too old for Barbies.”

  She bites her lips in the sexiest way as her eyes flicker on a thought. “You like my shirt, Jack?”

  Holy shit. My cock just knocked at my pants, saying, lemme out!

  “Now, Marion…”

  Like she’s not sure she should, Mar breathes deeply in, knowing that doing this will make her breasts rise and come closer to me. “Yes, Jack?”

  “Fuck me,” I groan, casting my gaze to her tile floor. Do they even clean this place? I’ve had enough women in my life to know that she’s coming onto me. Doesn’t she know what this would do to her father? I don’t care about Lorraine, but David would fucking kill me if I touched his little girl.

  But she’s not little anymore, is she? At five-eight, her body a study in perfection — save for the broken leg — and a spark in her eyes that says she’s no virgin and wouldn’t want to be one, my best friend’s daughter is all grown up.

  Like she knows I might leave to escape the lust that’s growing inside my gut, she quickly says, “I called because I need you to help Dad. I can’t do it anymore. I’m a wreck after this accident.” I meet her look, and see that she’s earnest. “My roommate just told me she’s moving out. No notice! It’s like one thing after the other is coming apart in my life and I just can’t hold him up anymore, too!” Anger flashes behind her eyes. “He’s supposed to be looking after me!”

  I clear my throat. “He doesn’t have to look after you anymore.”

  “He should look after himself, then!” she snaps, crossing her arms and saving me from those nips getting harder with her fury. “I’m sorry Mom cheated on him. But I didn’t know about it, either. It was a shock to me, too! I lost my Mom just as much as he lost his wife. Give me a break! And he’s been picking off my girlfriends one by one.”

  I wince and rub my face. I’m very aware that David has been doing that. To be fair, many took him up on it. He’s a good looking guy — there’s a reason Marion is so beautiful — and he has a lot of money. Some girls just want to be wined and dined the right way. But I can’t tell his daughter that. Instead I only shrug, “Yeah, well…”

  Marion and I look at each other and don’t look away. She drops her arms and her lips part, expression softening and becoming more vulnerable, which is deceptive as fuck. She’s never been weak a minute of her life.

  “Stop staring at me like that.”

  “Like what, Jack?”

  “You know what.” My voice is thicker as I demand, “What brought this on, huh? Is this really about David? You’ve gotta cut it out.”

  She leans closer to me. “Jack, what if I just…” Her fingers reach toward me and I’m frozen. I want them to touch my skin. I’m dying to touch hers. That hug made things worse, when she was crying. I never hug. It’s not my thing. But she was weeping and instinct took over to gather her up and tell her everything was going to be okay now that I’m here.

  But is it?

  I think it’s worse.

  She’s in trouble.

  I’ve got ideas I can’t shake.

  She felt so good in my arms. How would I feel between her legs?

  I’m staring at those butterfly-like eyelashes as her fingertips trace the line of my jaw. My chest is rising sharply as I master my own breath. I grab her fingers, pull her whole body against mine. “Mar, I don’t know what your game is, but this is never going to happen.”

  “I’m not playing any game,” she frowns. “You’re hurting my hand.”

  I drop it, and push her gently back. “I knew I shouldn’t have come over.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack! I am in a bad place! I don’t know what I was thinking!” Her hands cover her face again.

  “Holy shit, are you kidding me?” I groan and rub the back of my head. “Stop crying, I mean it!”

  “I’m fine! I just have to let my feelings out. This is healthy! I’m really fucking hurt right now. Everything is shitty. I lost my shot at Broadway! Broadway, Jack! You come over and you’re so handsome and sexy and I can’t ever touch you. And then stupid Teeka is moving out and leaving me half-rent-impaired! And now I need a tissue and I don’t have one!”

  “Hang on.” Quickly, I find her bathroom, grabbing a Kleenex for her nose. On the way back I hear the trashy roommate on the phone with someone, voice muffled by her bedroom door.

  It’s a good thing that girl is leaving. I don’t like the idea of Marion living with a coke-head. It’s a slippery slope, that drug. One second you think you’re partying, the next you’re in a ditch wondering where everybody went.

  Trudging back to the devastated daughter of my pal, I’m scraping my brain for ideas of how to help. The first that come to me are no good, naughty
acts that would leave us both sweaty and ashamed. After that, I’ve got nothing.

  I always have solutions.

  I’m CEO of my company.

  There’s a reason I’m so fucking rich. Not only can I turn any problem into an opportunity, I pride myself on being a man who can take care of the people he cares about, but here I am only thinking about tearing off those silky shorts and practically see-through tank and showing her how good I can make her body feel.

  And mine.

  The blood has left my brain and headed to a less productive place.

  I pass frames in her hallway, distractedly scanning images of Italy. Has she been there? I don’t remember any family vacations to fucking Europe. David and Lorraine never took time off for things like that. Maybe if they had there’d be no Kyle. But what do I know? I’ve never been married. Never saw the point. Or found the inspiration.

  Sniffling on the couch, Mar reaches for the tissue before I even extend my hand. Her face is away from me as her fingers clasp the flimsy paper and she blows her nose like a man. I almost laugh it’s so loud and obnoxious. But she looks miserable.

  She could use a sandwich. Those shoulders are a bit too bony. I bet pasta in Italy would help.

  Jack, what the fuck?

  Knock it off.

  Yeah, take her to Tuscany.

  Great plan.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I grunt, glad her tears made my erection disappear. “Mar, look at me.”

  Her red face turns up, eyes big. “Jack, kiss me.”

  “What?” Dropping to my knee I groan, “No no no. That won’t solve anything.”

  “It might.”

  A grin flashes on my face, despite myself. “No, it won’t solve anything. But I know what will.” She sniffs, attention held. I stand up to put some distance between us. “Troy will move in with you.”

  “What?” She blinks at me like I’m nuts. “Who’s Troy?”

  Pacing, I run my hand over my hair. “A friend of mine. He looks like a viking. He’s more your age.”

  Her nose scrunches with distaste. “You’re setting me up with a roommate and a boyfriend at the same time, in order not to kiss me?”