Baker’s Law (11 page)

“Maybe it fell out while we were dancing,” Cherry said over her shoulder. “Let’s go
look for it.”

Marissa looked from the thinning dance floor to the growing line at the bar. “No,
you go get in line. I’ll go back over there and look for it and get the next round.”

“You sure?”

Marissa nodded and shoved her friend toward the line then shimmied back across the
dance floor.

She found the spot where they’d been dancing and scanned the floor.

A slow song came on and people paired off or left the dance floor. It gave Marissa
a better view of the parquet in the darkened lights. She was just about to give up
when she found the folded bills ten feet to her left. She was bending down to get
it when one of the dancers kicked it with the toe of his boot. It skidded to a stop
under one of the many booths that lined that side of the floor. Of course, it had
to be the one crowded with several rowdy men. “Just frigging great.”

Marissa hurried over to the table. The men were all laughing and talking loud, not
one paid her any attention. She tried to wave her hands and get their attention, but
still they ignored her. She recognized one of the men who was tucked up tight in the
corner. She’d gone to school with him and his younger brother—Brad and Sean. Their
last name was Dennison or Davidson or something, she couldn’t quiet remember.

She didn’t want to stand there all night, and she could see the money peeking out
from between one of the men’s feet.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she wound her hair up into a makeshift
bun, dropped down on all fours and crawled under the table. Her left hand landed on
something squishy. A shudder ripped through her as she tried to wipe off the unknown
mess onto a cleaner spot of floor. Gum and other suspicious substances lined the underneath
of the table and she crouched as low as possible so the top of her head wouldn’t come
in contact with anything there.

Her little wad of bills sat between a pair of cowboy boots and an old ratty pair of
cross trainers. She prayed that neither man decided to shift their position or cross
their legs in the next few minutes. Marissa tried not think too much of how she looked
half under the table and she reached for her money. As her fingers closed over the
money another man joined the group, blocking her exit just as the music ended and
the DJ announced the house band was due for a quick break.

The group of men above shifted. A set of feet came within inches of kicking her.

Marissa wanted to pound her head on the tabletop. “Can this get any worse?”

“Seems like we have company.” A big booming voiced announced from behind her. The
table quieted. The two men on the ends of the booth bench ducked their heads under.

“Well, hello,” one of the men said. He looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place
him. The other man was just plain scary, even though he seemed to be trying to smile.
Finally he asked, “Can we help you?”

“Just grabbing my driver’s license.” She waved the cash and ID. “If you’ll excuse
me.” She tried to back up but the pair of legs didn’t budge. “Can you ask your friend
to move?”

The two men stared at her for a long moment. “She wants you to move,” one said, lifting
his head slightly. Then he shook his head and lowered it back under the table. “I’m
thinking we like the way things are just fine.” He gave a strange little purr and
the men around the table broke their silence with a roar of laughter.

Fear and frustration tightened her chest. “Listen, pal, I’m friends with the chief
of police. If you don’t move…”

He laughed, more of a loud, long guffaw. “She’s friends with the chief.” The other
men laughed harder.

Marissa huffed. “You don’t have to be rude.”

The man’s blond eyebrows shot up toward his receding hairline. “We’re being rude?”

Two large hands circled her waist and tugged her out from under the table.

“Hey. Stop.” Marissa tried to grab onto the table leg, but the man pulled her too
fast. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She was a little disoriented when the man abruptly set her on her feet. She landed
with an exaggerated
harrumph
as her bun came loose and her hair fell around her shoulders. She turned to give
the man a piece of her mind. “Who the hell do you think…” The words died on her lips
as Jax smiled down at her.

Jax—the other end of the hands who’d pulled her from the table—tilted his head to
the side and simply stared at her.

All the steam Marissa was building up evaporated and left her on a heavy sigh. “Well,
this can’t get much more awkward.”

A half-smile crooked up the corner of his mouth. “What were you doing?”

“Trying to retrieve my stuff.” She held her money and ID aloft, then tucked it back
into her bra.

A shiver ran up her spine as Jax’s gaze followed her movement and lingered a moment
or three longer than necessary. “I stand corrected,” she said. Awkward ratcheted up
a hundred degrees. She scrunched up her nose.

Jax had the courtesy to blush—or maybe it was the change in the lighting as the house
band approached the stage. She couldn’t tell for sure.

“Who’s your friend?” The blond man from the end of the table asked. Several pairs
of curious eyes stared at her, waiting for an introduction.

Brad snapped his fingers. “It’s Lulu.”

Jax watched as Marissa’s expression changed. She grabbed a napkin from the table and
wiped something from her hand, then stuffed the napkin in Brad’s drink. Without a
word, she straightened her shoulders, turned and melted into the growing crowd.

Jax rolled his eyes at his friend. “Way to go, asshole.” He didn’t listen to whatever
Brad was sputtering. Jax hurried after Marissa. He lost her at the women’s restroom
when she ducked inside.

A moment later, as a group of young women came out of the bathroom, they all gave
him a sideways glance, then giggled as they hurried off to hear the house band’s next
set. Jax rubbed his hand over his face.

He waited another five minutes and when no one else came out he debated going in there
after her, but was afraid of what people in town would say. That was one thing he
was sure of, that if he walked into the women’s restroom, it would get around town—probably
before he got home.

He was about to head back to his table when Cherry Humphries came rushing toward the
door. She skidded to a halt in front of Jax. “What did you do?”

“What…I…me?” Jax couldn’t remember the last time he’d stammered talking to someone.
“Nothing. Exactly.”

Cherry’s eyebrows rose higher with his every word. “Judging by the frantic call I
got, I wouldn’t say
nothing.
” She waved her finger in his face. “You’re lucky I answered my phone. She borrowed
some woman’s cell phone in there.” She motioned to the door.

That explained all the strange looks.

He sighed. “Brad called her ‘Lulu.’”

“Aw, man. You’d think after sixteen years people would forget.” Cherry started for
the door but Jax gently grabbed her elbow.

“I’d like to talk to her. To apologize. If you can get her to come out and speak with
me.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Please.”

Cherry nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Jax lost track of time, but the band was on a different song by the time the door
opened. Marissa came out and stopped in front of him but didn’t meet his gaze.

He opened his mouth to speak as the song ended and a roar went up from the crowd.
“Can we go outside where I don’t have to yell?” He held out his hand to guide her
through the bar.

Marissa hesitated for a moment, then took his hand. He just wanted to talk to her.
He didn’t want to acknowledge the little thrill that shot through him from a simple
little touch.

The crush of people vying to get closer to the band made wading through a little more
difficult than he expected. Eventually, he pulled Marissa in front of him, settled
his hand on her hip and barked for people to move aside. A patron or two from Oak
Hollow recognized him and moved a little quicker than some of the other folks.

Finally, they made it to a side door. When the door closed behind them, shutting out
the ear-pulsing music, he sighed. He shifted to walk beside Marissa, keeping his hand
firmly planted on her hip, all too comfortable with her beside him. She didn’t immediately
pull away. Maybe she wasn’t terribly angry with him.

They walked until they got to the front of the bar where a wooden railing decorated
the edge of the parking lot.

Reluctantly he released her and motioned for her to sit.

Marissa leaned her hip against the rail. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately before
Jax could get a word out. “I know I overreacted in there.” She swiped her hands through
her hair and pulled the long locks over her shoulder. “First I was embarrassed getting
caught under the table, then hearing that old nickname…”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “You didn’t say it.”

“I know, but still…”

A group of ten to twelve men came out the front door. Several of them lit up cigarettes
and raised the noise level outside the bar tenfold. On heavy breezes, smoke drifted
their way. Marissa swatted it away from her face but with a majority of the crowd
lit up, they were almost all but engulfed in it.

Jax took Marissa by the elbow and led her back around the corner away from the men.
Out of the breeze. And into the dark. A small security light over the side door cast
the space into long, deep shadows. Her face was partially lit as she turned to him.
For a moment she tensed under his touch. “We can go back in,” he offered.

When he expected Marissa to say
yes,
she moved closer to him. “It’s okay.” Their feet tangled and she swayed even closer.

Jax slid his hands up her arms to steady her. His heart pounded in his chest harder
than it had when he’d done his three-mile run earlier that morning.

“Sorry. Clumsy.” A shy smile crossed her mouth. And when she righted herself, she
didn’t try to pull away. She tilted her head back to catch his gaze.

Even in those incredibly high sandals, she was smaller than he’d realized. The top
of her head barely came up to his chin. He would never have guessed. She always seemed
big and bold. She’d never shied away from telling him off. Always seemed self-assured
and confident. Except when he’d pulled her out from under the table. She’d been meek
and timid. So unlike the Marissa he’d come to know in this short time. Then his friend
had hurt her with that stupid name.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, as much to comfort himself as it was to
ward off any lingering reminders of a stupid high-school moniker.

“Chief, um, Jax, you could kiss me now, you know.”

* * *

Embarrassment burned across Marissa’s face and warred with the desire that burned
low in her belly when Jax did little more than stare at her. She’d never been quite
so bold before, but there was heat that simmered just under the surface between her
and Jax. Every time they came in contact with one another. He always seemed to hold
back just a little, though. When he’d brought her outside she thought he might try…something…anything.
But he’d just wanted to talk.

Then he’d dragged her off in the dark. And still he held back.

Maybe she’d misread the entire situation. Jax was a nice guy. To just about everyone
he crossed paths with. She hadn’t come across one person who had a bad thing to say
about the new chief of police. He was a nice guy who took care of the townspeople,
cared for them as if they were all his responsibility. It was an admirable quality
that didn’t necessarily mean he had any feelings toward her.

The heat of desire was immediately replaced with her second wave of humiliation for
the evening. One more and she’d have a mortification trifecta, an all-time record
for her.

Marissa moved back half a step and tried to extricate herself from his grip, but Jax
tightened his hold and leaned down into her. He settled his mouth on hers. It was
soft, gentle and teasing. For the briefest moment. Then his hand snaked behind her
neck and he deepened the kiss with a fierceness that weakened her knees. He backed
her up to the building. The rough brick chafed her shoulders, but she didn’t care
as she melted into him. He tasted spicy, like rum.

She leaned into him, tossing one arm over his shoulder as the other was pinned between
them when he pulled her against him. His heart beat heavily against her palm. The
rhythm warred with the pulsating beat from inside the building. She tuned out the
heavy bass thumping the wall behind her as well as the rowdy men by the front door.
Just let herself be in the moment with Jax—a moment she’d never thought she’d have.

Tongues mingled and breath became one. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been
kissed so thoroughly. Hell, she was barely able to remember her own name as Jax pulled
his month from her and trailed his lips down her neck. Goose bumps broke out across
her skin and her nipples tightened painfully.

Heat pooled in her belly and lower.
More…
All she could think was
more.
She pulled her hand free and tucked it into the short, dark hair at the nape of his
neck. A moan escaped before she could stop it. Then she trailed her hands over the
broad expanse of his firm shoulders and down his back.

Her blood tingled as it ran through her system. Then her hip tingled. Jax nosed the
collar of her dress aside to run his teeth gently across her skin. Marissa shifted
and pressed her lips to his, let the kiss wipe out the bad week—hell, it might have
been good enough to wipe out a bad month.

She frowned, then broke the kiss as her hip tingled again and reality dawned on her.
The third time it happened, she groaned and let her head fall back to the wall with
a thwack.

“Jax.” She pushed against his chest. “I think your phone is vibrating. Jax.” She shook
him when he still didn’t respond.