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sharp breath, more wounded than I could say. I lashed out in self-defense. “So why rehash and screw it up?”
    “Can’t we be friends?”
    “No.”
    Jax stepped into my space. “Can’t we do business together?”
    “Nope.” I unfolded my arms, feeling the need to take the defensive. “You made this personal from the get-go.”
    He smiled, flashing that damned dimple. “You’re sexy as hell when you’re mad at me. I should’ve pissed you off more often.”
    “Back off, Jax.”
    “I did. It didn’t take.”
    “Actually, it did. Go back to your world and forget me again.”
    “My world.” The smile faded along with the light in his eyes. “Right.”
    He’d stopped his advance, so I skirted him quickly, aware that I had been gone too long and Chad was waiting.
    Jax caught my arm, his hand flexing around it. He spoke in my ear. “Don’t fuck him.”
    I shivered. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing in opposite directions, which mirrored our entire relationship. I smelled him, felt his warmth, was reminded of other occasions when he’d whispered in my ear.
    Jax knew how to seduce and he never shirked the effort. Even when I’d been a sure thing, he’d get me hot long before he took me to bed. Giving me long, searing looks, touching me often, murmuring naughty promises that made me blush.
    “Are you celibate, Jax?” I retorted.
    “I will be, if you are.”
    A harsh laugh burst out of me. “Yeah, right.”
    He held my gaze. “Try me.”
    “I’m not interested in playing games.”
    The doorknob rattled, making me jump. “Gianna? Are you in there?”
    Vincent. “Yes,” I called out. “Hang on.”
    “Don’t fuck him,” Jax repeated, his eyes dark and hard. “I mean it, Gia.”
    I shook free and fumbled the lock open, pulling the door wide.
    My brother paused with the office key in his hand, then glared over my shoulder at Jax. “You got a death wish, Rutledge?”
    Rolling my eyes, I pushed Vincent back. “Leave it alone.”
    “Sniff around somewhere else,” Vincent went on, blocking the doorway as soon as I moved out of the way.
    I briefly considered intervening, then decided against it. They were big boys. They could figure it out by themselves.
    When I got back to the dining room, I found a large to-go bag sitting on the table in front of Chad, who stood when he saw me.
    “What do you think about taking this back to the hotel and eating in peace?” he asked.
    I looked around the dining room, easily spotting Stacy’s bright hair gleaming in the muted glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers. She was staring daggers at Chad and me.
    “I’ve got a better idea,” I said, grabbing my belongings. “I know someplace we can go where no one will find us.”
    * * *
    I TOOK HIM to my sister-in-law Denise’s beauty salon in Brooklyn. She closed up shop, found some paper plates and we feasted on lukewarm-but-still-delicious ragù bolognese in the stylists’ lounge in back, away from the smells of dye and hair spray.
    “You’ve got a New York accent,” Chad noted after we’d been swapping crazy customer stories for a while. “I never noticed before.”
    I shrugged. “Yeah. As heard on TV in ten thousand cop shows.”
    Chad laughed.
    “It’s because she’s on her own turf,” Denise explained.
    I didn’t add anything. No biggie that he’d noticed. The accent always came out when I was hanging with family or friends, when my defenses were relaxed and I felt more like the me I used to be.
    “It’s cute,” he teased, exaggerating his own. “Y’all know I’ve got one, too.”
    “She’s gotten good at hiding it,” Denise said, her platinum hair with hot pink tips arranged into artful braids. She had piercings in her nose and brow, and a sleeve of tattoos on her left arm. She was also five months pregnant and just beginning to show. I was so excited about that. I was dying to be an aunt.
    My smartphone started ringing in my purse, and I reached over to the counter to dig it out. Maybe