Protecting His Assets (17 page)

She sat up in bed and pushed her hands through her tumbled hair. On a chair next to the bed sat the neat pile of her clothes, all nicely folded. On top sat a single foil-wrapped butterscotch candy, the kind he’d slipped her a few times as a kid. Her mom had been militant about her never having sugar and Chase had hooked her up in secret.

He’d remembered. And that made her sniffle harder.

A fuzzy recollection of her crying and Chase holding her teased the edges of her brain. Oh, man, had she had one of her dreams again last night? The memories of her father’s death had mostly faded with the passing years, but when she was stressed, they loved to show up in the form of nightmares. That was one of the reasons she rarely spent the night with guys. She hadn’t even thought of that last night though. After her show, then dressing room sex and Chase’s revelation about his arm, she’d been way too preoccupied. And now he’d probably seen her bawl like a baby.

Yep, that would definitely go miles to proving to him that she was a confident woman who didn’t need care. Maybe he even figured she’d cried to try to manipulate him, rather than because she’d been dazed and half asleep and caught in the memory of the worst day of her life.

Shaking it off, she stuck the candy in her purse and dressed quickly, not wanting to spend any more time in Chase’s apartment than she absolutely had to. She fished out her phone and dialed a car rental place, then made arrangements to pick up a car two hours later. That would give her enough time to get to a church service—at the same church she and Chase had attended a few weeks ago—then make her way to the car rental place.

Under six hours later, after drinking enough coffee to hype up a monkey and suffering through a trip home without her trusty GPS, she threw back her shoulders and walked into Triple Scoop. She had on her cute little brown and pink uniform with the short skirt that she’d insisted on buying over Cass’s more sedate choices, and the hot, majorly built guy leaning over the ice cream case to talk to Cass turned and gave her a leisurely once-over. When he glanced back at Cass, she was frowning.

Hmm. Interesting.

But since Summer already had one guy problem, she wasn’t looking for optional add-ons. Besides, she recognized this particular man, and from the way he and Cass were currently eye-balling each other, he had previous commitments as well.

“Jax,” Summer said brightly, wishing he’d been a little more tardy. She’d have to remember that he and Chase were punctual Peters. Her fault for not realizing she’d get lost several times on the way back home. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She strode forward and shook his hand. “Would you mind watching the counter for five minutes while I borrow Cass?”

Cass’s frown grew. “Jason doesn’t have counter experience. And why do you need to borrow me anyway?”

“Can’t you call me Jax?”

“No. I don’t call my brother Deuce either. Those are childish names.”

“Well, yeah, we were kids when we gave them to each other.” Jax’s amiable grin didn’t seem to improve Cass’s chilly mood. Which was pretty weird, since Cass could make friends with a cockroach. And practically had in the past, considering some of her ex-boyfriends. For as sweet as she was, Cass had horrible luck with men.

Summer sighed. Even worse than her own, current predicament notwithstanding.

“You’re no longer kids.”

“True, but by now, they’re just our names.” Jax glanced around the empty shop. “And you have no customers, so I’m pretty sure I can manage the counter for a few while you and Summer have a confab in the back.”

“Five minutes.” Cass removed her apron and gestured for Summer to follow. “Thank you, Jason,” she said almost as an afterthought.

“Jax,” he called before Summer pulled the swinging door to the back room shut behind them.

Cass sat at her desk and raised one perfectly arched red eyebrow. She looked like she’d stepped out of Irish Models Weekly, all porcelain skin, sharp green eyes and hair the color of a fire truck. She also had the temper the Irish were famed to have, though she usually tried to keep it under wraps. But whoa, when Cass got pissed, watch the hell out.

Summer wondered if Chase was the same. He was usually as even-tempered as they came. Nothing much seemed to ruffle the guy. He just bulldozed until he got his way.

It was time she took a page out of her lover’s—former lover’s—book.

“What is this—?”

“I slept with Chase.” When Cass broke her rigid posture and sagged in her chair, Summer charged ahead. “It wasn’t planned, and it’s not going to happen again. I thought you should know. Oh, and I’m launching a singing career and no one knew about it but him, so he was my bodyguard for a few weeks but that’s all over now. I’ll probably end up with Jax.” Summer grabbed a spare apron off a hook. She’d forgotten hers yet again. “That’s all I had to say. Let’s get back to work.”

“Hold it,” Cass said as Summer turned toward the door. “What do you mean you’ll end up with Jason?”

Summer bit her lip and pivoted to face her best friend. And boss. Important not to forget that little tidbit. Since she’d expected her best friend to lead with Summer’s irresponsible sexcapades, she did a double take. Cass hadn’t asked about her singing. Not about her sleeping with Cass’s brother. She’d asked about
Jax
.

Cass gripped her elbows and leaned forward. “Well?”

“Jax and Chase are starting a bodyguard agency together. Chase started it but he invited Jax…or commandeered him, I’m not really sure. Anyway, Chase shoved me off toward his partner so he wouldn’t have to deal with us having sex.” Amazing how just stating that again in clear, crisp terms reminded her that she shouldn’t care about Chase’s women issues. If he couldn’t even man up enough to rationally discuss her security needs—that he had foisted upon her in the first place—because he was so afraid of being consumed by her fearsome desire for more scream-worthy sex, he clearly didn’t deserve her consideration.

If she’d ever had time for a guy who needed to grow up, it wasn’t now.

“So my brother is a bodyguard. As is Jason. And you’re a singer.” Cass smiled faintly. “You do have a lovely voice.”

“Thank you.” She would not get choked up right now. Would not. “Why aren’t you more shocked about me and Chase? I mean, it’s not an actual thing. Only once. But still.”

“You had me pack white chocolate sauce.”

“Huh?” The memory filtered into her consciousness and she kept from blushing by reliving that afternoon in her living room in all of its magnificent glory.
Ah, yes
.
The white chocolate sauce
.

Cass shook her head, sending her long wand earrings into a twirl. “Shutters? You and Chase? The white chocolate enhanced sauce? I’m not that stupid, Sum. Part of me wondered if maybe you’d bought it for another guy. Hoped, probably. I don’t think I was ready to go there yet. You and Chase?” She shook her head again.

“It’s not
that
weird.” Summer sounded defensive even to her own ears.

“Never mind that right now. What do you sing?”

Summer rubbed her nose in a probably futile attempt to stave off the perennially leaky valves behind her eyes. “Country mostly, plus some rock and pop thrown in. And folk.”

“No gospel?”

“Probably some influence, here and there. I write my own songs too. Not all of them. I also do covers.” She thought of “I Love Rock and Roll” and her cheeks heated. “You’re not mad?”

“That you sing? No.”

“What about the danger?”

“Do you sing naked or something?”

Summer had to laugh. Maybe her best friend was more open-minded than she’d given her credit for. “No. It’s just that sometimes I’m singing in places you might not like.” When Cass didn’t reply at first, she rushed ahead. “I remain committed to my job here. My singing won’t interfere with that, I promise.”

Cass sighed and rubbed her hand over her eyes. Her chunky bangle bracelet slid down her wrist, disappearing under the sleeve of her uniform shirt. She did not wear a cute short skirt like Summer’s, but starched pants. Summer couldn’t remember the last time Cass had worn a skirt.

Or looked so darn tired.

“I never doubted your commitment to Triple Scoop. Now, please, back to where we were.” Cass circled a pale, mauve-tipped finger. “Places like where?”

“Um, Canada, but that was only one time.”

“
Canada
?”

“The club was in a very nice province. Very
safe
,” she stressed. “And also New York.”

“Well, yes, we live in New York.”

“No, the city.”

“How many times?”

Yeah, this might get sticky. “Uh, maybe thirty?”

Cass reached for her ubiquitous bottle of water, uncapped it and drank. After approximately two sips, she capped it again, set it down and turned blazing eyes on Summer. “Who is your new best friend?”

“What?”

“First you tell me you slept with my brother. My brother who will nail anything that moves, then nail it again for good measure. If you suspected things were heading that way, why didn’t you say something? Or ask me for advice or, hell, I don’t know, tips?” She wrinkled her nose. “Never mind that last part. Ugh. Disgusting. Anyway, my point is, you did not call me before this event, nor after—”

Summer held up a hand. “Technically I did call you after.” She blushed. “It happened last night.”

But Cass was on a roll. “Then you tell me you’re singing all over the country and even in foreign ones. And
Chase
knows. Not me, your supposed best friend, but my brother, the nailer of all women everywhere.”

“Can you stop repeating that? I get the point.” Summer rubbed her hands up and down her cold arms. The sleeves of her uniform shirt weren’t doing much to alleviate the chill in the back room, and she’d forgotten a jacket. And her apron.

And her brain, if she’d been dumb enough to sleep with Chase, the so-called bad boy of the major league. So what if it had been the best sex of her life? Clearly every gut instinct that told her there was more to him than everyone said—including him—had to be wrong. He was bad.

She wanted to be bad. She wanted him again. God.

“Though, honestly, I don’t see him that way. I think he’s…misunderstood. Even by himself.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “You did not just say that.”

Yes, she had. Though Summer knew she’d probably never turn Chase into a devoted boyfriend—not that she wanted to, necessarily—her heart was sending out a constant busy signal to her brain’s distress calls. Apparently when she’d opened her legs last night she’d also abandoned her last shred of sense.

“Hear me out. Chase told me the same thing, that he only sleeps with women once, blah, blah, blah. But I gotta say, he hasn’t been like that with me. Not about the sex,” she added at Cass’s impervious look. “But in general. He’s so thoughtful and caring most of the time and he’s been genuinely concerned about my wellbeing. He even…” She let out a breath and crossed her arms to ward off her best friend’s steely-eyed gaze. “I have nightmares sometimes. About that day at the dry cleaners.” Cass’s face immediately softened. “Sometimes I wake up crying. I think—no, I’m pretty sure I did last night. And he held me. That’s basically all I remember. His arms around me, his voice. I’m not sure what he said, but it didn’t really matter.”

Yet she’d walked out on him that morning, because he’d tried to fob her off on Jax. Probably not because he didn’t want her—he didn’t
want
to want her, and that was a vital difference. If she let his own self-perceived limitations shut them down before they even had a chance, then she was no better than he was. He needed someone who believed enough in how inherently good he was to prove it to
him
.

She wasn’t adept at the whole relationship thing either. And they had so much history. The idea of walking down Main Street in Yardley while everyone snickered about her boyfriend straying at the first opportunity didn’t sit well. And that was if she even managed to convince him he could be decent boyfriend-material. If he ever consented to try.

Cass picked up her water again, then set it down without drinking. “He’s very sweet. I love my brother, you know that. I also love you. And I wish I thought he was capable of—”

As the door to the back room swung open, Summer turned to face a glowering Chase. “So do you make a habit of leaving a man’s bed with no warning or am I special?”

The flush that spread up her neck into her cheeks absolutely pissed Summer off. Liberated women didn’t blush. “Last I checked you don’t own me.”

“Check again.” Her eyes widened as he strode forward and gripped her upper arms as gently as a baby bear cradling a cub. But with just as much subtle, undeniable force. “I was worried about you. I knew you didn’t have your car. You didn’t even leave me a note, for fuck’s sake.”

“I texted you,” she muttered, ducking her head as her embarrassment turned to shame. She’d been annoyed at him for the whole Jax thing, but in retrospect, that hadn’t been the best way to handle it. Still, she was an adult and—

And she was really getting tired of singing the same old song, even in her own head.

“Saying ‘I had to go, see you later,’ is not an adequate explanation. What?” Summer looked up at Chase’s indignant tacked-on question, only to realize he was staring over her shoulder at Cass. “You have a problem with me seeing your friend?”