Page 6 of The Summer Ultimatum
“Well, that’s good to know.” I laugh. “I’ll be sure to let Nathan know about returning the favor. In the meantime, I already have Thursday off, so count me in for then.”
Someone calls Joe’s name from behind us, and Joe gestures for them to wait a minute. “Look, I gotta take care of something. But I’ll see you Thursday. Come a little early, so we can fill out some paperwork.”
“Sounds like a plan, Joe. See you then.”
With a bounce in my step, I make my way over to Sloane.
She’s looking down at her phone, but the moment she sees me, she eagerly stands from the table to close the distance between us. “You were spectacular tonight. I can’t wait to edit some of these clips to share them with you. You really killed it. I think they ate up your originals just as well as the cover songs.”
“Thanks. I think so, too.” Tilting my head to the parking lot as I hitch the strap of my guitar case higher on my shoulder, I ask, “You ready to get out of here?”
Reaching for her purse, she grins. “Got any place in mind?”
Letting out a long breath, I admit, “I’m too keyed up to sit anywhere. Mind if we take a walk?”
She darts her tongue out and slides it along her lower lip as a smile plays at the corner of her lips. “I think I can handle that.”
Either Jax isn’t being straight with me, or the man’s got more talent in his pinky than most do in a lifetime. He was on fire tonight. I wasn’t kidding when I told him I got some great footage. I can’t wait to show both him and my boss the final edits.
He’s an absolute dream to record as the camera ate him up. His voice is smooth as butter, with a touch of gravel, which I’m sure made ovaries throughout the crowd burst. His raw talent and charisma on stage makes him the whole package. It doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes either. Once he fine tunes his brand, I’m certain everyone will line up to watch him perform. If I have any say, in the very near future—Jax Cartwright will be huge!
As we walk to his truck to drop off his guitar, his pent-up energy rolls off him in waves and creeps into the crevices of my soul. I can’t quite describe what I’m feeling, but suddenly, I’m fully aware of everything Jax. From the light bounce in his step, to the sway of his arm as he walks. I’m completely in tune with his every movement, and my body zings with anticipation of what’s to come.
With his truck parked along the street, he quickly deposits his guitar inside the lockbox in the bed of his truck and turns to face me with an eager smile. Glancing at my messenger bag, he asks, “Wanna put that in your car so we can wander and relax a bit?”
“I walked here tonight, so I’m good.” Clutching it as if it’s my lifeline, I blow out a loud breath. “Everything I might need is in this bag. You never know when inspiration will hit. Besides, Tara might need something from me, and I should keep it handy.”
Shaking his head, a smile pulls at his lips. “Oh, Sloane, you can’t workallthe time…” I watch as his face turns pensive for the briefest of moments, and I’m certain he’s plotting. Suddenly, one brow quirks in my direction, as a smirk rolls across his face.
I know without a doubt, I’m in so much trouble with this man.
Running a hand along his jaw, he casually asks, “What will it take to get you to turn off that brilliant brain of yours and just walk with me?”
My traitorous body reacts without my permission as a swarm of warmth flutters deep in my belly. I’m unsure what to make of it and have no idea how to react. He’s barely known me a few days and already gets me at my core—my brain doesn’t turn off.
Maybe it’s just an assumption. But the look in his eyes clearly shows he wants to take the time to know the real me.
Why is this both equally flattering and terrifying?
Reaching his hand out, he gestures for my bag. “Well, if we’re going to schlep that thing around while we walk, would you at least let me carry it?”
“That’s completely unnecessary,” I insist, hoisting it higher across my body. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag.”
Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. “Iknowyou’re capable…Never meant to insinuate otherwise. But for the record, it doesn’t mean you have to. I merely offered because I thought it would give you the opportunity to let your hair down and relax, which at this point, I’m sure is a rarity.”
“I can relax,” flies out of my mouth so fast, even I don’t believe it.
Clearly, neither does he.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he challenges, “Okay… prove it. Tell me one thing you’ve done for yourself in the last week that had nothing to do with work… where you one hundred percent unplugged and allowed yourself to relax.”
Rolling my lip between my teeth, I look to the sky as I run through the events of this past week. Finally, when one pops into my head, I grin. “I watched my sister Raven surf the other morning.”
Eying me suspiciously, he asks, “You expect me to believe you actually sat on the beach and did nothing but watch her surf?”
Shit. He’s got me there. “Well… I did answer some emails while she caught some waves. It’s harder than you think to just sit and watch someone for nearly an hour.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. But that still means you worked.” Pointing in the direction of the beach, he asks, “Wanna walk along the Prom?”