Page 98 of LA King

He arches an eyebrow. “Jax? I know he’s my best buddy, but not a chance in hell I’m letting him shower with you.”

I swat him playfully on the chest. “I meant, I thought you were meeting with him?”

“I did meet with him. He just wanted to give me a rundown of what I missed. He’s gone now.”

“Oh, right.” I feel nervous for some reason.

He places his index finger under my chin and tips my head back so he can look into my eyes. “What is it, Alana?”

“Nothing. I’m being silly.”

“It’s not silly if it’s bothering you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I thought … You just seemed so tense when we got back here. And I thought, maybe the beach house, how happy we were … maybe it wasn’t real.”

He presses his lips to mine, pushing me up against the cool tiled wall as he does. His hands roam my body as he devours my mouth, and he cups my ass and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and then he’s inside me. I groan into his mouth, but he doesn’t let up. He nails me to the wall until I come apart around him.

It’s only after he grinds his own orgasm into me that he breaks our kiss. “Was that real, princesa?” he growls.

I nod as the water spills over his face. As real as anything has ever felt before.

“This isn’t the beach house. I wish that it was. I wish I had nothing to do all day but swim, and eat, and fuck you. But I have responsibilities here, and yes, they often make me angry and tense.” He cups my jaw. “But never with you. You are my beach house, Alana. You’re what makes me happy—here, or the beach, or anywhere else we may be. Wherever you are is where I am content.”

I squeeze my legs tighter around him and pure bliss swells hot and fierce in my chest until it feels like it will burst out of me. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Alana.”

Yes, he truly does.

Chapter

Fifty-One

Alana

Lucy gives me a sideways glance, and I grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. She’s been fidgeting and chewing her lip since we sat down in Kristen’s office.

Wearing her trademark wide smile—the kind that makes you warm to her instantly— Kristen sits and hands us each a cup of tea. “You had something you wanted to chat about?”

I squeeze Lucy’s hand one more time to remind her I’m here, but this is her story to tell. “Go on.”

She clears her throat and tells Kristen the truth about her age and the fact that she’s also four months pregnant.

Kristen listens without interrupting or showing judgment, and Lucy is crying by the time she’s finished. I pass her a tissue, and she blows her nose.

“Well, that’s quite the pickle,” Kristen says, leaning back in her chair. “But nothing we can’t handle, right, Alana?”

“That’s exactly what I said. Alejandro’s lawyer is meeting us this afternoon, and then he’s going to contact the appropriate authorities, and we’ll take it from there.”

Kristen nods. “That sounds like a good course of action all around. I wish you could stay here with us, Lucy. You fit in so well and everybody loves you, but you’re just too young, honey.”

“I know,” Lucy sniffs. “And I’m sorry I lied to you all. I was … I was just so scared. And I can’t go back to Chicago. I can’t.” Her tear-filled eyes go wide with fear, and it’s obvious there’s more to her story, but I won’t push her on it yet.

“It will be okay, Lucy,” I promise. “We’ll make sure you get to stay close.”

Kristen hums her agreement. “Have you had any thoughts on what you’d like to do about the baby? You know you have options.”

Lucy’s hands fly to her abdomen. “I want to keep it. They will let me, won’t they?”