On the Rox Read online

  World’s longest handshake, but I didn’t care. I clung back to him. Whatever we were doing was sending warmth throughout my entire body and a spark between my legs. If he was this good at a handshake, I wondered just how good he would be in bed.

  “Jay,” I breathed out his name. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m sorry I haven’t been available to take your calls.”

  I reluctantly pulled my hand back and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. I should have put my hair down for this. Nikki had warned me, and I didn’t listen.

  “My brother, Aiden, the other owner of Scarlett Herb, is the one who’s been calling you. But it will be me from now on.” He winked.

  Fuck. There’re two?

  “Oh. Okay. We’ve just been so busy lately.”

  “That’s okay. We’re pretentious arsehats who don’t jive with your brand.” He raised his eyebrows as I shifted my eyes to my feet.

  “About that—” I stammered.

  “Ready to roll, Rox?” Betty stuck her head out of the driver’s window.

  I didn’t notice that everything had been packed away.

  “Just one second!” I called back.

  “Let’s talk about it over our date. I’m keen to hear your thoughts and that poetry.”

  Keen. Why can’t American men use that word? It sounds so … fuckable.

  “Date, business meeting—whatever you want to call it, yes, I’d love to. Just don’t bring up the T. rex incident in the window, and I’ll be good.”

  “I might not want you to be good,” he whispered.

  Whoa. He must feel this chemistry too.

  “Perfect, because I’m usually not.” I shrugged, smirking and heading toward the front of the truck. “Not this Saturday, but next. Seven o’clock, The Lounge bar. You know the place,” I called out to him before quickly disappearing into the truck. I took a few deep breaths and tried to steady my breathing.

  “What the hell was that? And why do you have that pep in your step? Why are you breathing funny? Did he slip you some money or drugs or something? I’ve not seen you bounce around like this before. You okay?” Betty started the engine and sat back, waiting for me to explain before she would leave.

  “Divine intervention,” Nikki chimed in from the back. “I told you! It’s all these crystals I’ve been hanging around here!” She pointed toward the crystals that were tied down to everything from the front to the back of the truck.

  I watched out the window as Jay walked back to Scarlett Herb. He had a pep in his step too.

  “Maybe so. But I have a date, and we might be moving on up in the world if we partner with them,” I answered.

  “So, let me get this straight. Jay owns Scarlett Herb, he asked you out on a date, and you just all of a sudden want to give him our sauce? After we’ve been telling you to do this all along? Sounds about right.” Betty shook her head and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Well … did you hear him talk? He has an Australian accent. I’m not going to turn that down!”

  “Oh, really? No, I didn’t hear him. But maybe I should turn around and listen. I guess I’ll have to agree with you on that then. I probably couldn’t have resisted either. Glad we are moving forward with it though. I think it’s a good idea.” Betty shrugged her shoulders.

  “Hope so. His accent is hot as fuck! And so is he.” Nikki nodded from the backseat.

  She was waving around a crystal in the air, probably clearing some type of energy. Bad luck, I hoped. I was full of that.

  “He has a brother,” I said. “He is the other owner.”

  “Dibs!” Betty sputtered out, snapping her fingers in the air.

  “That’s fine. I got a hot date with that officer anyway. I passed him my number when I gave him his receipt, and he is texting me now!” Nikki set her crystal down and smiled into her phone.

  “What about Layla? Maybe she wants a shot at the brother from Down Under too.” I raised my eyebrows at Betty.

  “She ain’t here, so … nope. Well, maybe. Let me get a glimpse of what he looks like first. If he looks like a turd on a stick, hard pass. You can report back to me once you meet him.”

  “I think I’m only working with Jay now, but I’ll let you know what he says about the Shizzle Sauce. I’ll run it by all of you before we start collaborating. DTF is a team.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, still picturing Jay in my mind.

  I’d never had anyone in my life throw me off-balance so quickly, and now that I was headed home, he would be there—right next door. My heartbeat quickened again.

  “Oh, and another thing. Jay is my neighbor,” I muttered, still smiling. I brought my hands to my cheeks and felt my smile, confirming that I hadn’t imagined it. It had been a long time since I smiled like this.

  Betty and Nikki both gasped.

  “Of course he is, that’s just your luck. Pretentious restaurant owner turned hot-ass Australian lover lives right next door to you. I don’t think that is necessarily bad luck, but it probably isn’t good either!” Betty laughed, hugging the steering wheel.

  “I’m telling you. It’s divine intervention. All of this is.” Nikki shook her crystal in the air again.

  I thought about the way he had been there that night at the poetry event, how he’d watched me in the window back at home, how he’d tried to connect with my business, how it had been him everywhere and appearing suddenly out of thin air. I just hadn’t known who Jaxon Taylor was yet. Maybe there was something to all of this mumbo jumbo Nikki droned on and on about.

  “Give me that.” I grabbed the crystal out of Nikki’s hand and stuffed it in my bra.

  “Lawd help us all. Maybe you should stuff it somewhere else, too, if you’re looking to get laid.” Betty wiggled her brows at me.

  “That works too! Don’t ask how I know!” Nikki smirked, not looking up from her phone.

  “We won’t,” Betty said. “But you’d better give me one too. Just in case.”

  Three

  Jay

  I opened my windows, letting in the fresh spring breeze. I took the day off from Scarlett Herb to unpack more boxes and run errands for essentials that I still needed. My home didn’t even come close to beginning to feel like a home. Instead, it felt like a rather large storage unit—packed full and extremely disorganized. I preferred things orderly and tidy. This chaotic mess kept me from what I wanted to do—invite Rox over after our date night.

  I sat on my smooth leather couch that had been delivered yesterday and leaned my head back, rubbing my palms up my cheeks and through my hair. Moving in and of itself was exhausting, but moving from the other side of the world was the worst. I flipped absentmindedly through the calendar of my phone and set it down beside me. I still had days to go before my date on Saturday, and I needed to see Rox again already.

  I had waited nightly for another peep show, but so far, I’d barely seen her. The other morning, I had caught a glimpse of her running to her car, coffee in hand. I’d also heard her car door slam the other night and peeked outside, watching her check her mail well after midnight.

  I felt like a creeper, a stalker, a loon. But I couldn’t stop. Rox had set up residence in my brain, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. She wasn’t like girls I usually dated. Most of my ex-girlfriends and even Elena had been much, much different. They had no tattoos and wouldn’t be caught dead in the pair of Chucks Rox fashionably pulled off. My exes ate salads with kale, drank only chardonnay from Napa, played tennis on weekends, and highlighted their hair with the seasons. That was my type—or at least I’d thought it was.

  But the second I’d laid eyes on Rox, I’d felt different. Comfortable even. Her body was a canvas, decorated with stories I wanted her to whisper into my ear. Those dark eyes fluttering as she crawled on top of me, pressing her soft lips into mine.

  I looked around my den, shrugged my shoulders, and pulled my hard cock out.

  I might as well clear my head so that I could get back to work.

  Now is as good a ti
me as ever, I thought to myself.

  What better way to procrastinate unpacking than rubbing one out to the sex-kitten neighbor?

  The story seemed familiar as I remembered a porno clip I’d watched one time. Horny neighbors. I could dig it.

  I ran my palm up and down the length of my shaft, leaning back, closing my eyes, and biting my lip. Rox’s smile played in my head, precisely what her smile would look like while wrapped around my dick. I would brush her hair back from her eyes and gather it in my hands as she worked me with her tongue. Her slight Southern accent would twang softly in her moans. I wanted to pull her up and guide her down onto my bed, knocking her knees apart with mine and shoving myself in between them while I lifted her skirt. Her white Chucks still on, hitting against that little spot behind my knees, tickling me, making my cock jump right before I plunged inside of her.

  Ding-dong!

  The doorbell rang out, echoing off my empty walls.

  I absentmindedly choked my chicken—really choked it—strangling the life out of it as I grabbed my dick hard from being startled or seen. My blinds were open, and I was stupidly sitting right in front of them. Of course, whoever the hell had interrupted me could look through any second and—

  She did.

  Rox knocked on my window, cupped her hands around her eyes, peered inside, and locked eyes with me, and then—boom—I somehow came. Fear shot through my veins as my hot load shot off, too, like a rocket sputtering out in forever squirts that just. Would. Not. Quit. This had never happened to me before. Sure, I’d heard of people messing their pants from fear. But I had never heard of coming in your pants—or worse yet, all over myself and my new couch while my hot neighbor watched. Yep, I had definitely seen this in a porno before.

  I only had a few moments to think of how the hell I could recover from this—and I couldn’t. Rox had hopped away from the window at my first spurt of dick tears, and at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had already put her house up for sale and was long gone.

  Ding-dong.

  The doorbell rang again.

  I sat stupidly with my dick in my hand, unsure of what my next move would be. I couldn’t ignore her forever.

  “I’m coming!” I called.

  “You already did!” she called back, not missing a beat.

  Fuck!

  I ran to the bathroom and grabbed towels, cleaning myself and changing my shirt before sopping up my mess on the couch. I clenched my jaw and shuffled my feet to the door. I took a deep breath, cried a little inside, and opened it.

  “Rox … I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m—did you …”

  “Did I see you christen your home with your own Shizzle Sauce? Yes, yes, I did.” She pressed her lips together, struggling to keep it together.

  “Yeah, I’m—wow. Holy hell, I’m humiliated. Can we not talk about this ever again? I’m so sorry you had to see that! I’ll keep my blinds shut from now on. Lesson learned.” I saluted her. No idea why I’d saluted her. I was fuzzy from endorphins, stress, and a load that I thought had emptied not only my balls, but my brain too.

  “Look, let’s forget what happened. We are even. We’re both Peeping Toms. Here, take this.” She held out a bottle of champagne. “Welcome to the neighborhood gift. Fitting as, now, I know you like to pop your top all over the place.”

  “I thought you said we would forget that ever happened!” I cringed and took the champagne, death-gripping the bottle and mentally kicking my ass.

  How stupid was I to yank my crank in broad daylight in front of a window that I now wanted to black out forever?

  “I’m teasing! Anyway, I, uh, know you’re busy. So, I’ll let you get back to work.” Her eyes twinkled, and her mouth twitched.

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I shifted my weight to one foot and choked back my shame.

  “You’re already getting to know me so well, Jay.”

  “Sounds like I’m in for a wild ride.” I raised my eyebrows and held up the bottle of champagne.

  “You’ve no idea.” She bit her lip, hesitated, and stepped back. “Anyway, hey! What’s your number? Text it to me and I’ll text you back mine. That way you can text me on Saturday when you arrive. It tends to get packed on those Saturdays. Wouldn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

  “What does that mean, those Saturdays?”

  “It’s the Saturday for the women and children’s shelter. We raise money for them.” Her voice grew soft, and her eyes glazed over.

  “We?” I shifted my weight to my other foot, confused.

  “Me and the girls. We volunteer for the shelter. Once a month, we hold a benefit at The Lounge. So, you’ll be supporting a good cause.”

  “Wow! I’m impressed. Count me in. I’d be delighted to do that.” I watched her as a smile crept across her face, crinkling her eyes, and it sent my heart plummeting down into my stomach. She might be a tough cookie on the outside, but she had a heart of gold. “Did you want to come in for a minute? It’s a bit dirty in here and—”

  “I can’t. But thanks. I have to run. Enjoy the champagne, and welcome to the neighborhood.”

  She turned to leave but came running back for my number. I gave it to her, thanking her again for the gift. Her sweet arse bounced as she walked away.

  Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

  Aiden and I had been working at the restaurant from morning to late at night over the last few days. We had hired three new employees, including a marketing assistant with the good sense to post on social media a special offer on a new craft cocktail. It’d brought us in twice the amount of customers we usually served on a Friday night.

  When business finally slowed down, I sat at the bar and asked our bartender, Terrance, to make me one of these already-famous concoctions.

  “Fleur-de-lis.” The bartender nodded toward my glass. “That’s what makes it so special. It’s the rum. Straight from NOLA.”

  “Oh, wow. It is delicious! Good job, mate! Can’t wait to see what you come up with next!”

  “Thanks.” He slid into a dance, working his way to the other side of the bar where two beautiful women paid their bill and gathered their things, all the while flirting with him.

  “Jay! Rough night, aye?” Aiden sat beside me, scooting his barstool closer and motioning Terrance back over for a drink.

  “Rough but successful. I don’t think we have had a crowd like that before, coming in for only drinks. Must be those tweets. Never understood what the big deal was about that social media stuff, but I guess I get it now.”

  “You’ve always been such an old soul,” he said, leaning into the bar and rubbing his eyes awake.

  “It’s hard to keep up with this fast-paced world; that’s all.” I rubbed the back of my tense neck, thinking about the hot shower I would take as soon as I walked through my door.

  Aiden and I drank in exhausted silence. The last customers hobbled out of the restaurant, and the servers slowly filed out behind them too.

  “Hit the road, Terrance. We got it from here,” Aiden said, standing up and making his way behind the bar.

  I watched Aiden begin to clean up and shut everything down, halfway feeling guilty for not offering to help but halfway too damn tired. No matter what I had tried, my nights here were sleepless. I tossed and turned every evening.

  “Why did you want the Shizzle Sauce?” I asked as I rested my head in my hands.

  “Whoa, that is out of left field. I thought we gave up on that.”

  “No. I didn’t. I checked them out last week. Roxanne, the owner, agreed to meet to talk about it. I need to know what exactly we want it for, so I can let her know.”

  “Really? Why didn’t you tell me this? And how did you do that? I’ve been trying to connect with them for the last few months! All I ever get is some snarky lady with a sharp tongue, pretty much telling me to fuck off.”

  “Well, that’s why. You need to present yourself. Be personable. I walked over there and introduced myself, a
nd that was that. We’re meeting for a date-slash-business meeting on Saturday. I’m only curious as to what we’d even do with it. It doesn’t seem like our normal offering.”

  I ran my palms along the underside of the carved wood bar before leaning onto my elbows and waiting for my brother to explain.

  “It’s not. But I want to try something new—local infusions. We’re a fancy steakhouse. We need something to separate us from the dozen others around here. I want to incorporate other local businesses as much as possible. We already use local farms and bakeries. But we’ve never collaborated with another food vendor—especially a food truck. Maybe those people who think we are pompous assholes will see that we can also be down-to-earth. Supporting the little guy.”

  “That sounds like more of an idea from me than you! I like it. But have you met her? Roxanne? She’s hardly a little guy. None of the women who work that truck are. I think if you called them that, you might have your balls sent back to you in one of your fancy to-go bags.”

  “Really?” Aiden stopped wiping the counter with the dishrag. I could see his brain working overtime, trying to connect the dots and the risks. “Are they single?”

  “Roxanne is. But dibs. I don’t know about the rest. I’m sure you will meet them if we can come up with a plan for working together.”

  “You’re the talker, the consultant with the brains. I’ll trust you on that. Throw me a bone though if you see one. American girls,” he growled, continuing to wipe up the spills on his expensive-as-fuck bar.

  “Not just American. Southern and from Outer Forks.” I laughed.

  “Mum always wanted us to meet a Southern girl like her. She would be so proud if she knew where we were at now.”

  “Yep, she would. She would bless our hearts.” My laughter faded out into a heavy silence.

  “Come on. Help me finish up. Let’s go home. You’ve got a big date to get ready for tomorrow. Give her some of your sauce, and maybe she will give us some of hers.”

  I pushed myself off of my barstool and groaned. After my soaking explosion in front of her, I wasn’t sure I had any sauce left to give.