you've seen pictures."
He didn't disagree. "Did you do it?"
"I already…wait, the vandalism?"
Jax merely tipped his head downward as if not wanting to repeat his question.
"Why on earth would I?" My jaw hung open a bit. "You think I'd vandalize my own studio—a brand new studio that I poured my heart, soul, and every last penny into—with a threat to myself? For crying out loud, I'm so broke I eat Froot Loops for three meals a day."
"Not a healthy diet."
"Some people prefer their fruit in the form of a loop." I turned my nose up, dismissing his questions as the nonsense they were.
"You're a smart girl, Misty. I have no doubt you've already put together why I might suspect you did the vandalism. Nobody in their right mind would destroy something so important to their livelihood…unless they were trying desperately to avoid jail time. A few scribbled words on the wall beats a life in jail, eh?"
A bitterness welled up in my throat.
"The paint washes off, doesn't it?" Jax pressed.
It was too much. I couldn't handle this latest accusation. I leapt from the bench. "If you think I'm capable of murdering someone and vandalizing my own studio, then arrest me now."
My chest heaved as I looked down at Jax sitting quietly on the log.
I stuck my hands out front. "I'm sick of this. I can't stand it. Go ahead."
Jax stood and stepped toward me. I closed my eyes.
Instead of the cool clasp of handcuffs, Jax's warm, soft hands encircled my wrists.
"If you are as innocent as you say you are, then prove it." Jax pulled me close enough I could feel his breath trickle over my skin. Memories of nights huddled together in a one-person sleeping bag under the stars, cuddled up beside the lake, shrieking as we skinny-dipped under a brilliant moon rushed back.
"Tell me why I shouldn't go back to California. Get a job as a stripper. No paperwork there. It's what my life has come to, after all. Isn't it?" I pressed forward against him, my tone pleading. My lips were inches from his, begging to hear the words I wanted to hear. "It's what everyone here thinks of me anyway."
We stared into each other's eyes. He slid his gaze over my cheeks, down to my lips, and an uncontrollable shudder raced down my back.
Jax steadied me, his arms lightly resting on my shoulders. He brushed one index finger across my cheek. "No. Not me."
My gaze dropped, and I hoped he couldn't see the disbelief, relief, confusion—an entire spectrum of emotions—dancing across my eyes. Want and love were among them, I was sure of it.
I heaved a big sigh, gathered as much courage as I could, and offered a watery smile. "I don't know what to do besides disappear. I never thought I'd resort to becoming a stripper."
"So that's what you do," Jax said, his eyes crinkling in a smile. "I wondered."
I gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Of course not. It's burlesque. It's the art of the tease—"
I tried to continue my explanation, but Jax pressed a finger to my lips. "Shhhh. Maybe you should give me a show, and I'll be the judge of that."
"Stop it," I said, laughing at his devilish grin. It was a miracle the man hadn't been swooped up and married by now. But then again, why would he be? He could charm the fishnet stockings off any girl. "You have a girlfriend."
Jax's smile faded slightly. "In all honesty, I've never known you to give up on something you want. No matter the cost."
His words sunk in slowly, bittersweet. In the past, the cost had been painfully high. I wasn't sure I could take risks that great again. I wasn't sure if it had been worth it the first time.
"Right now, I just want to teach my class in peace. And avoid life in prison. That'd be ideal."
Jax gave a smile, but it didn't make it to his eyes. "Then I'd say you want something pretty badly."
He took a few steps away before I could respond.
"Should I put the fire out?" I asked, for lack of better words.
"I'll give you some time to think. I'll be back in five minutes with some water. I
He didn't disagree. "Did you do it?"
"I already…wait, the vandalism?"
Jax merely tipped his head downward as if not wanting to repeat his question.
"Why on earth would I?" My jaw hung open a bit. "You think I'd vandalize my own studio—a brand new studio that I poured my heart, soul, and every last penny into—with a threat to myself? For crying out loud, I'm so broke I eat Froot Loops for three meals a day."
"Not a healthy diet."
"Some people prefer their fruit in the form of a loop." I turned my nose up, dismissing his questions as the nonsense they were.
"You're a smart girl, Misty. I have no doubt you've already put together why I might suspect you did the vandalism. Nobody in their right mind would destroy something so important to their livelihood…unless they were trying desperately to avoid jail time. A few scribbled words on the wall beats a life in jail, eh?"
A bitterness welled up in my throat.
"The paint washes off, doesn't it?" Jax pressed.
It was too much. I couldn't handle this latest accusation. I leapt from the bench. "If you think I'm capable of murdering someone and vandalizing my own studio, then arrest me now."
My chest heaved as I looked down at Jax sitting quietly on the log.
I stuck my hands out front. "I'm sick of this. I can't stand it. Go ahead."
Jax stood and stepped toward me. I closed my eyes.
Instead of the cool clasp of handcuffs, Jax's warm, soft hands encircled my wrists.
"If you are as innocent as you say you are, then prove it." Jax pulled me close enough I could feel his breath trickle over my skin. Memories of nights huddled together in a one-person sleeping bag under the stars, cuddled up beside the lake, shrieking as we skinny-dipped under a brilliant moon rushed back.
"Tell me why I shouldn't go back to California. Get a job as a stripper. No paperwork there. It's what my life has come to, after all. Isn't it?" I pressed forward against him, my tone pleading. My lips were inches from his, begging to hear the words I wanted to hear. "It's what everyone here thinks of me anyway."
We stared into each other's eyes. He slid his gaze over my cheeks, down to my lips, and an uncontrollable shudder raced down my back.
Jax steadied me, his arms lightly resting on my shoulders. He brushed one index finger across my cheek. "No. Not me."
My gaze dropped, and I hoped he couldn't see the disbelief, relief, confusion—an entire spectrum of emotions—dancing across my eyes. Want and love were among them, I was sure of it.
I heaved a big sigh, gathered as much courage as I could, and offered a watery smile. "I don't know what to do besides disappear. I never thought I'd resort to becoming a stripper."
"So that's what you do," Jax said, his eyes crinkling in a smile. "I wondered."
I gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Of course not. It's burlesque. It's the art of the tease—"
I tried to continue my explanation, but Jax pressed a finger to my lips. "Shhhh. Maybe you should give me a show, and I'll be the judge of that."
"Stop it," I said, laughing at his devilish grin. It was a miracle the man hadn't been swooped up and married by now. But then again, why would he be? He could charm the fishnet stockings off any girl. "You have a girlfriend."
Jax's smile faded slightly. "In all honesty, I've never known you to give up on something you want. No matter the cost."
His words sunk in slowly, bittersweet. In the past, the cost had been painfully high. I wasn't sure I could take risks that great again. I wasn't sure if it had been worth it the first time.
"Right now, I just want to teach my class in peace. And avoid life in prison. That'd be ideal."
Jax gave a smile, but it didn't make it to his eyes. "Then I'd say you want something pretty badly."
He took a few steps away before I could respond.
"Should I put the fire out?" I asked, for lack of better words.
"I'll give you some time to think. I'll be back in five minutes with some water. I
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