Page 88 of True Abandon

“There’s room at Black Dog Entertainment. We’re still a start-up, so as we expand we’ll need more people in reception, producers, songwriters, technicians.” He gives a self-deprecating smile. “Pretty much everything. You have my word, you will always have a job at Black Dog.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. You may want to take back the offer on song writer. My musical expertise is as good as my ability to surf. In other words—I’d fall flat.” I look out the window to the beach pathway that’s illuminated slightly leading tower the black abyss of night. “I don’t know what I’ll do next, but whatever I chose will be for the long haul. I’m ready to settle down. Work-wise, I mean.”

His hand runs up and down the side of his glass as he says, “That’s good to hear.”

“The event,” I say rather sporadically. “Your colleagues come in on Saturday. We’re all prepared for them.”

He leans his forearm onto the table and extends his other in my direction. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to talk business.”

I sit up and hit the back of the seat behind me. My hands drop my burger, and I wipe them on my napkin. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I thought this was a business dinner.”

He must sense the unease in my stance. “What I mean is, this is a really rare occasion where I’m not chained to my desk or answering calls. Lord knows, tomorrow I’ll be scrambling to make sure I have everything ready for my boss’ arrival. I just want to kick back a little and enjoy a nice evening with a beautiful woman. Is that okay?”

My shoulders relax. I bow my head and place the back of palm on my forehead as I feign embarrassment. Way to go, Trish. Can you get more full of yourself?

When I lift my head, I reply, “Yes. That’s more than fine.”

He offers me his fish to try, but I decline. I don’t offer him any of my burger since I polish it off, down to the last sweet potato fry. We finish our meals with light conversation.

Kal drops the check on the table before Eric is even done.

“I think your friend wants us to leave,” Eric jokes.

I try to laugh but end up letting out a yawn. “That’s okay. I’ve been up since five this morning.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes. Then again, it could be the light sparkling off those blues. “Let’s get you to bed.”

We argue for a few minutes on who should pay. I almost win when I tell him I have a miscellaneous account at the hotel, which is a lie. He wins when he says he’s expensing it through his company.

As we leave the restaurant, Eric has his hand on the small of my back. I’d think it was odd if I hadn’t lived in Manhattan for years. It’s a chivalrous quality that men from the city take on. A way of letting you know if you’re in their company, they are taking care of you, no matter who you are to them.

I’m still contemplating this thought of Eric’s hand being on my back when I walk straight into something hard, my body ricocheting off the hard chest of a man.

“Excuse me,” I apologize as I brush the loose hair that has fallen in front of my face, behind my ear.

“No problem,” the man puts his hands on my arms and steadies me as I wobble on my heel.

I don’t need to see to know who that deep baritone voice belongs to. It’s in the way his calloused fingers feel against my skin. They’re rough yet gentle. It’s in the way that delicious scent of warm honey pours off of him leaving me dizzy with want. It’s how my hands are trapped around his corded biceps feeling his blood pulse beneath the skin sending my body aflame. It’s how being this close to his beating heart lets me know the man before me, without opening my eyes is Jax.

Another hand reaches for my side from behind.

I look up into Jax’s face. It only takes a moment for him to recognize the doe-eyed expression staring back at him. His gaze quickly travels to my hair and the drastic change since I last saw him ten hours ago.

He looks at me intently. His stare morphs from a confusing pinch of his brow to a softening expression that has his dark eyes glaze over. He’s looking at me like he sees something he’s lost and thought was gone forever.

“You okay, Trish?” Eric asks from behind.

Jax’s attention quickly fixes on Eric and hardens at the sight of his hands on me.

Jax lets me go, and I right myself by fixing my dress, brushing Eric’s hands, gently, off of me as I do so.

“I’m good.” My words are a little breathier than I planned.

I look back up to Jax who is staring at me in complete confusion.

“Kelli died my hair,” I say as if he asked me a question.

“I see that.” He’s holding his jaw tight, but I don’t think it has anything to do with my hair.