Page 8 of A Ruthless Bargain
Her final words followed me as I left the restaurant and hustled toward the gym. There was no way this would fail. If she saw Jax Smith at the gym more days than not during the week, he’d almost certainly be there. I’d just follow him.
I parked myself on the bench at the corner of 8thand Bradley, excitement thrumming through me that I might get answers. I’d picked my location carefully. The bench pointed toward the opposite cross street and had a row of hedges nearby. They were intended to protect people on the bench from the vehicle exhaust to a limited degree. They were therefore good in providing a bit of visual cover, though did require me to watch more from my peripheral vision, unless I wanted to turn my head.
My sandal tapped out a steady rhythm on the concrete while I watched the number of people dwindle, including the few entering and exiting the gym across the street, diagonal to my bench. The scent of unknown fried food wafted over me every so often, and I craned my head around, trying to find the source. I didn’t think it could be from the bar, but who knew? Worry peeked around the excitement, and bile rose in my throat. The mixed reactions I was having to just the thought of seeing Jax Smith were maddening. What would happen when he arrived?
After I waited on the bench for a time, pretending to use my phone, and increasingly concerned that he wouldn’t show, the other potential flaw in my plan hit me. Our town’s size meant I seldom drove anywhere, but it was possible he’d have a car. I nibbled my lower lip and thought about what I’d do if he headed for a car.
Would I throw myself into him to stop him and make him explain himself? And Sherry was right. What was my plan? Force him to tell me the truth about his identity? Maybe he already had. But, from his frisking technique, I knew he wasn’t a US Marshal. I had to find out—
There he was! His broad shoulders and massive chest were impossible to miss when he exited the gym. Damn, he really was a beast. He turned to walk away from the intersection walkway where I sat, then paused, before turning back and heading my way.
My heart sped up and underarm sweat caused me to fan myself ineffectively with my purse. It dropped to my lap when I realized I might draw attention to myself. A quick dip into my purse brought out my phone, giving me something to pretend to occupy my time, while I stared out of the top of my vision.
Jax Smith passed my intersection and headed down the street I’d come from. I casually rose from the bench and followed. Movies taught me to keep distance between us, so I did, as Jax wandered Sandy Creek. I began to wonder if he was out for an evening stroll, without a destination in mind. Like hell he was. That would be too convenient. My breath hitched as I considered that he knew I was following him. I held my breath to steady it. Whether he knew I was following him was irrelevant. I wanted information and getting it right from the source seemed the only way forward.
Thirty minutes passed. I held my phone at waist height and typed while I walked. The irony that this exact scenario got me into this mess to begin with was not lost on my dumb ass. I texted Sherry to tell her my quarry was on the move. My phone immediately lit up with a response. Not surprisingly, she was worried. I assured her I would be okay. That I’d text again in another thirty minutes.
Jax Smith turned down a narrow road, not quite an alleyway, and I stumbled in hesitation. It wasn’t the alley from before, but suddenly the memories of his invasive, but titillating search swarmed my brain. I swiveled to take in my surroundings. There was still enough light. The man kept going, and I groaned. Giving up wasn’t an option. When would he reach his destination?
He rounded a darker corner, and I lost sight of him while I slowed in closing the gap. I needed to keep distance between us to shadow him, but my sixth sense didn’t like the shadowy road. It screamed at me to go back. Although a darker voice urged me forward.
I crept around the corner and smacked into Jax Smith.
“Why are you following me?” he growled.
ChapterFour
My mind emptiedbefore I developed even a flimsy excuse or denial of following him. Shit. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared instead.
“Why are you following me?” he repeated, and I realized that, oddly, he still wore his sunglasses. Who wore sunglasses at night?
“What makes you think I’m following you?”
Jax Smith smirked. “Where are you going, then?”
“Um…”
“Do not bother lying. You were following me.”
The sound of something skittering on the far side of the alley punctured the silence that followed.
“Do you know how I know?”
I shook my head.
“Because I…,” he stopped a moment, “saw you when I left the gym. Then, I went the opposite direction I intended, away from almost everything commercial that is open at night.”
“You lured me here?” I spluttered and stepped back from him.
“You followed me here.”
I uncrossed my arms and rubbed the sides of my jeans. His head angled down slightly, as if drawn by the movement.
Jax stepped forward, invading my space.
My breath caught in my throat while my heart hammered. The earlier desire now sparked a tiny flame that made me want to both wrap my legs around him and shove him away from me. Instead, my eyes traveled up his considerable length. I was tall, but he was… “You’re gigantic,” I blurted out. Somehow this hadn’t fully registered before, when he was behind me. My gaze wandered over his broad shoulders and muscles barely contained by the black shorts and t-shirt he wore from his workout.
He flexed and actually half-smiled. “Yes, going to the gym here is great,” he said, though he almost seemed to be talking to himself with the non sequitur. “Everything is so much easier with your lower gravity.”