BILLIONAIRE ANGEL (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) by Robyn Grady Page B
Authors: Robyn Grady
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hair up in his fingers. Inside, she was coiled so tight, if she pulled herself any closer to his belt, she would explode and go through the roof.
He murmured against her skin, “I’m glad you broke into my club.”
She hummed out a smile. “I’m glad you offered to help.”
He rotated her so that he held her in his arms like he’d done the day he’d thought she might faint. His expression told her everything he was thinking…feeling. He wished they had longer.
Something beyond a final night.
He carried her to the side of the bed, lay her down carefully and then unbuttoned his shirt. All the time he focused on her eyes, on a connection that grew stronger by the second.
When he dropped the shirt, Billy let her gaze sweep over his chest and shoulders and arms. Hard, hot and, for tonight...
Only hers.
*
The next day, Jax jumped on his motorcycle and roared out from his Newforth Cove home. A thousand miles and three days later, he rolled into a crap neighbourhood two state lines west of Maine. Kids wandered around wearing big brother’s clothes and no shoes. Women sat on porch steps chugging on smokes and sucking on beers. Youths on ‘interplanetary missions’ strutted down the street, hoodies hiding their faces.
How many cookhouses were hidden away in this square mile? Jax would bet at least one.
He sat, parked, for an hour. Every now and then, he’d check his ride’s compartment box and the 9MM pistol waiting inside.
It was late, dark, by the time the man slithered out the front door of the rundown tenement. As the man flicked his roach at a bush and darted a predator’s glance around, Jax eased off his motorcycle, opened the compartment and slid the 9MM under his jacket. His hands didn’t shake. In some respects he felt serene.
Felt redeemed.
Resources said that Hurly Green had moved here a few months back. He was still out and about, ruining families like they were pieces of garbage he had the god-given right to destroy. Someone, sometime, needed to stop him.
Billy had finally got her justice. Her answers.
Now Jax needed his.
Chapter 16
Two weeks later, when Jax heard a knock on his front door, he braced himself before lowering the soldering iron onto the worktable. Was it one of his cousins, Leo or Taylor, dropping in for a beer? Or his old friend, Tim Fielding from the Portland Police, come to pay him an overdue visit?
Then Jax thought of Billy.
Since the day they’d found out the truth about her ruby ring, the night they’d spent one final mind-blowing night together, Billy had maintained radio silence. So many times he’d wanted to call, ask how she was doing, when she was leaving. But he didn’t want to hassle her. They’d parted on an extremely high note. No matter how much it ached now, best it stayed that way.
But when he opened the front door, Jax felt blindsided. Off balance.
Margo Quinn’s glossy lips parted on a perfect white smile. “I got tired of waiting for an invitation.”
When he continued to stand there, running through the possibilities, she angled to look over his shoulder and inside.
“Jax? Are you going to invite me in?”
He let out that breath and, with an inevitable sweep of an arm, ushered her through. He wasn’t forgetting the way she’d come onto him that day when she’d shown him the anniversary invitations. In hindsight, maybe it had been brewing for a while. But he hadn’t made any show of taking Margo up on the proposition. She must be here for some other reason.
Right?
She wandered into the living room and he closed the door. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“I’d love a glass of wine.”
Jax zoomed in on the outfit. Margo always looked good. This dress, however, screamed, Take me now. It was white, clingy and on the short side. Quite the picture adding in those red heels and long bare legs.
But he wasn’t interested because she wasn’t Billy, would never be Billy, because Billy was one of a kind.
At the worktable, Margo crossed
He murmured against her skin, “I’m glad you broke into my club.”
She hummed out a smile. “I’m glad you offered to help.”
He rotated her so that he held her in his arms like he’d done the day he’d thought she might faint. His expression told her everything he was thinking…feeling. He wished they had longer.
Something beyond a final night.
He carried her to the side of the bed, lay her down carefully and then unbuttoned his shirt. All the time he focused on her eyes, on a connection that grew stronger by the second.
When he dropped the shirt, Billy let her gaze sweep over his chest and shoulders and arms. Hard, hot and, for tonight...
Only hers.
*
The next day, Jax jumped on his motorcycle and roared out from his Newforth Cove home. A thousand miles and three days later, he rolled into a crap neighbourhood two state lines west of Maine. Kids wandered around wearing big brother’s clothes and no shoes. Women sat on porch steps chugging on smokes and sucking on beers. Youths on ‘interplanetary missions’ strutted down the street, hoodies hiding their faces.
How many cookhouses were hidden away in this square mile? Jax would bet at least one.
He sat, parked, for an hour. Every now and then, he’d check his ride’s compartment box and the 9MM pistol waiting inside.
It was late, dark, by the time the man slithered out the front door of the rundown tenement. As the man flicked his roach at a bush and darted a predator’s glance around, Jax eased off his motorcycle, opened the compartment and slid the 9MM under his jacket. His hands didn’t shake. In some respects he felt serene.
Felt redeemed.
Resources said that Hurly Green had moved here a few months back. He was still out and about, ruining families like they were pieces of garbage he had the god-given right to destroy. Someone, sometime, needed to stop him.
Billy had finally got her justice. Her answers.
Now Jax needed his.
Chapter 16
Two weeks later, when Jax heard a knock on his front door, he braced himself before lowering the soldering iron onto the worktable. Was it one of his cousins, Leo or Taylor, dropping in for a beer? Or his old friend, Tim Fielding from the Portland Police, come to pay him an overdue visit?
Then Jax thought of Billy.
Since the day they’d found out the truth about her ruby ring, the night they’d spent one final mind-blowing night together, Billy had maintained radio silence. So many times he’d wanted to call, ask how she was doing, when she was leaving. But he didn’t want to hassle her. They’d parted on an extremely high note. No matter how much it ached now, best it stayed that way.
But when he opened the front door, Jax felt blindsided. Off balance.
Margo Quinn’s glossy lips parted on a perfect white smile. “I got tired of waiting for an invitation.”
When he continued to stand there, running through the possibilities, she angled to look over his shoulder and inside.
“Jax? Are you going to invite me in?”
He let out that breath and, with an inevitable sweep of an arm, ushered her through. He wasn’t forgetting the way she’d come onto him that day when she’d shown him the anniversary invitations. In hindsight, maybe it had been brewing for a while. But he hadn’t made any show of taking Margo up on the proposition. She must be here for some other reason.
Right?
She wandered into the living room and he closed the door. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“I’d love a glass of wine.”
Jax zoomed in on the outfit. Margo always looked good. This dress, however, screamed, Take me now. It was white, clingy and on the short side. Quite the picture adding in those red heels and long bare legs.
But he wasn’t interested because she wasn’t Billy, would never be Billy, because Billy was one of a kind.
At the worktable, Margo crossed
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