AJ emerged from under her hood, wiping his mouth with the back of his non-bloodied hand. He looked like hell and Jillian rather liked the dark side at that moment: his right hand smeared with blood, his shirt torn open exposing his rock-solid physique, and his lips swollen from administering an unforgiving assault on both sets of her lips.
Jillian bent down and grabbed her shoes and panties. “So … tell Carin I’m sorry for keeping you.” She considered saying thank you but decided to just bite her lips together and leave it at that. AJ gave her his signature blank stare so she turned to leave through the side door.
“Jillian?”
She looked back, feigning confidence because she wasn’t. She was flustered with a nauseating mix of embarrassment and guilt.
“Thank you for not taking advantage of my son tonight.”
A grin pulled at her lips. “You’re welcome.” She turned without looking back.
She was greeted by the smell of popcorn the moment she walked in the door. Jackson sat at the dining room table enjoying a late night snack while messing with his computer. He clocked her the second she closed the door; his eyes moved to her hand that held her sandals and panties.
“You know, there’s a reason they call them undergarments.”
She dropped her shoes on the floor and padded off toward her room. “Good night, Jacks.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jillian stirred to consciousness by Für Elise, the worst possible, nearly indistinguishable version of it. She suspected that to be the “rape” to which Jackson had made reference. On a long groan, she reached for her watch on the nightstand. It read five after noon.
“I’m a complete lazy-ass,” she mumbled through a lion’s yawn as she stretched into an X on her big bed. Confirming the time of day, the shrill screech of the mail truck’s brakes sounded in the distance. Jillian traipsed to the front door, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Jackson sitting next to his student. She stuck her tongue out at him before stepping into the sweltering sun, wearing only her thread-bare tank top, hip-hugger panties, and of course red rain boots.
“Oh, man. My dad’s going to crap his pants.” Cage grinned while circling a soapy sponge over the hood of his truck.
Jillian padded toward the mailboxes, squinting at him. “Why? Did he have undercooked chicken for dinner last night?’
Cage laughed. “No. He’s usually not home to see you get the mail, but he just pulled in. Came home for lunch today.”
She retrieved her three pieces of junk mail. “Is my ‘getting the mail’ an event around here?”
“If you lived in college dorms, no. But around here, yes. You getting the mail is the event of the day for these guys. Except my dad. I don’t think he approves of your …”
Jillian raised a hand to her brow, blocking the sun. “My?”
Cage shrugged, “Your … free spiritedness.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“He means the strip show you give the neighbors.” AJ stepped out from the corner of the garage. “Give us a minute, son.”
Cage’s face looked pained as he fought to hide his monstrous grin. “Told ya.” He chuckled before going inside the house.
Jillian eyed AJ in his uniform. “Back to work today?”
“Go put some clothes on.”
She laughed. “I’m not naked.”
“You look cheap and easy strutting around wearing next to nothing in front of your neighbors.”
Jillian wet her lips then bit them together. “I see. Did I taste cheap and easy last night?”
AJ’s eyes slipped from her gaze.
“I’m probably more than ten years younger than you. What will the neighbors think when they see you looking at me like the perverted dirty old man you are, like a dog salivating over a piece of meat.”
AJ’s face masked into an unappreciative scowl, focusing his gaze back on Jillian’s. “I have to get back to work.”
“It must be exhausting being grumpy all the time. When you’re alone do you roll around on the floor, hugging your belly while laughing hysterically? Because it’s human nature to smile and laugh, so holding it in for the sake of keeping up this stern façade of yours must feel like torture sometimes. Am I right?”
AJ turned. “You don’t know me.”
“I don’t. But I feel you.”
Jillian’s words stopped him like a fired gun. AJ looked over his shoulder.
“Good day, Sarge.” She took her barely-covered body back in the house. A dreary cloud of sadness weighed on her. Luke had said those same words.
I feel you.
*
Jackson finished his two lessons for the day and took Jillian to get her Harley. They grabbed an early dinner, then she set off for the open road while he headed home for his first official date since arriving in Omaha—the daughter of a student. Jillian warned him it wasn’t going to end well, but Jackson returned with the look-who’s-talking face.
She arrived home just after seven. The whole neighborhood was outside watering plants, walking dogs, chatting in driveways. The trademark rumble of her hog pulling into the development turned heads and unhinged jaws. Jillian smirked behind the shielded face of her helmet. If there was a noise limit for Peaceful Woods, she was most likely breaking it.