He did come over to have a row. What did I expect? Hearts and flowers?

"We'll perhaps if you hadn't been charging around Starbucks like some goddamn ape, you wouldn't have knocked into me and spilt..." I started.

"So sue me, sweetheart,” he sniped.

"I'm not your sweetheart," I hissed. This wasn't how I’d imagined our first encounter to play out. Like I said, nothing good had come of the pictures so far.

"Aren't I the lucky one!" he hit back.

"So your tattoo says," I reminded him. All of a sudden, I just wanted to be back in my car heading home already. Looking at the pictures was way more fun than getting too close to the real thing, I’d decided.

He took a step forward, narrowing the gap between us. If I'd wanted to get past him now, I would've had to brush up against him. Like that was gonna happen.

"So where are they now?" he asked, glancing around the bar.

"Who?" I asked.

"The rest of the A-Team?" he said with a cocky smile.

"If you’re referring to my friends, very funny," I sighed. "Did you write that joke yourself?" I pushed past him, heading for the door.

"I've got some more," he called after me over the beat of the music.

I stopped mid-step. "More what?" I asked, looking back over my shoulder at him.

"Jokes, if you want to hear them?" He half-smiled.

How could I refuse that smile? It had an arrogance, but also a certain amount of charm.

I turned away from the door. Crossing my arms, I looked at him and said, "If you make me laugh, I’ll stay – if you don't – then I'm out of here. Knock yourself out, cowboy."

Please be funny, I thought.

Looking straight back at me, he said, "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"

"I don't know?" I shrugged.

"You're supposed to say, 'I don't know, why did the monkey fall out of the tree, Jax?'" He smiled again, taking another step toward me as I stood by the exit.

He was within touching distance again. "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree, Jax?" I asked like he told me to.

"Because it was dead," he said, his face as straight as a poker player.

"That's not funny," I said, trying to mask a smile.

"So why are you smiling?" he grinned back.

"Because it was the dumbest joke I've ever heard," I told him.

"Aren't all jokes dumb?" he asked, so close now that I could smell the musky scent of his aftershave. My heart sped up just a little.

"I guess it depends on who's telling the joke," I said, keeping a straight face this time around.

"So if my joke was so unfunny, why isn't the door hitting you in the ass as you run for the hills?" he said, looking into my eyes, then down at my mouth.

Was he checking to see if I were laughing, or was he wondering what it would be like to kiss me? I pushed the thought away.

"So?" he asked.

"So what?" I asked back.

"So are you staying for a while longer?" he smiled, cocksure he knew what my answer was going to be.

"I'm leaving," I said, turning and opening the door. The warm Floridian night air brushed my hair from my shoulders. Then, looking back at him, I added, "You can come, too, if you want."

Chapter Seven

Jax

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. As soon as she replied to my smartass comment, her voice hit me like a slap in the face. She had the coolest accent I had ever heard. What is that? English? Australian? Shit… I have to ask her… I know the English get pissed when you ask them if they’re Australian. And the Australians get even more pissed if you ask if their accent is English. I heard a couple get into it in Starbucks once. It was ugly. And quite amusing. We continued bantering back and forth, and just to keep her talking, I decided to tell her the lamest joke I knew. It wasn’t even funny; in fact, it was so very unfunny that I could see a smirk playing on her pretty puffy pink lips and I couldn’t stop staring at them as that voice bellowed out of them. God, that accent was so awesome. I wondered what it would sound like as she called out my name in the throes of…

She made to leave, and glancing over my shoulders, I saw Trent and Gabe watching me with amusement. I lifted my beer bottle in a wave. Trent saluted me, almost laughing, and I turned around and followed her out, tossing my beer into a nearby trash can. It was then I noticed what she was wearing. A plain pink T-shirt and some denim shorts and… were those sneakers? Wow, who dresses like that in a club?

Not that I cared… her ass looked damn fine in those shorts. Plus I couldn’t wait to see where this chick was taking me.

Holy freakin’ crap! I didn’t even get her name.

I jogged to catch up with her. “Uh… I’m Jax, by the way,” I said, grateful I’d thought of it so I wouldn’t have to flat-out ask her name.

“Mina,” she said plainly. “And I knew yours already. You said it during your lame monkey joke, Jax.”

I scratched my goatee. “So, Mina, where are you taking me?”

She stopped at her car, a small simple blue Mitsubishi sports car, and leaned against it with her arms folded, keys jangling from her long fingers.

“Well, Jax, what did you have in mind?” She was fixing me with an intense stare.

Oh, I think she knew what I had in mind. And it was at this stage of the game where I would normally throw the girl into my truck or onto the back of my bike and whisk her off to my place or hers, and have my way with her. I sound like a damn caveman, don’t I? Ladies love the cavemen...

Except this wasn’t just some girl. I saw this chick all the time; it would be way awkward if I just slept with her and then didn’t call her. And if I did think I’d want to call her again, then I certainly don’t want to go have her in my bed the very first night. As I’m sitting here contemplating this, she had this part hopeful, part amused look dancing in her gorgeous blue eyes. Then she started to bite her lip and I looked at her teeth and wished they were mine.

I cleared my throat and smiled. “How about coffee?”

Her face registered a small bit of shock, but then a smile lit up her pretty features. “Well I only drink tea, but sure, we could find someplace open late, if you want.”

I nodded and led her over to my truck. I had to help her in, as it was jacked up pretty high, but she managed fine. I noticed she didn’t have a purse.

“Did you lock your car, Mina? This place gets pretty rowdy when it’s late… no pun intended.” I smirked.

She looked at me confused, not getting my “Rowdy” joke so I cleared my throat. “I mean, you don’t have a handbag or anything…”

“Oh, I have this,” she said, pulling a small folding wallet from her back pocket. I noticed she had her phone in her hand.

“Uh, okay.”

I rumbled out of the parking lot and found a Denny’s Restaurant about five blocks from the club. I knew they stayed open as late as the bars did, so I pulled the Ford into the lot. I jumped out of the truck and she stayed in it. What in the hell was she doing?

Shit! She wants me to open her door. I truly am a damn caveman.

I rushed around and opened it, and she gave me a playful smile. “You American boys… no manners at all.” I could tell she was joking. And really, how could I argue with that?

Once we were seated and had menus and water, I looked up at her. She was staring at me, her hand resting on her iPhone. I looked down at it, then back up into her anxious face.

“Well, I think you should know that we American boys do have manners. My dad taught me well. I just don’t… date a lot.”

At that, she almost looked as if she wanted to laugh. Why was that funny? One night stands don’t count as dates. Not that she knew anything about those.

“Is that so?” she asked in that beautiful accent of hers.

I smiled. “So where are you from, Mina?”

“London.”

I had to keep her talking. “Really? Are you an exchange student or something?”

Her face grew more serious. “No. Just a student. No exchanging happening here.”

I thought her comment was very odd so I looked at my menu. I wasn’t hungry but thought maybe I should order something to eat so I could put something in my mouth instead of having stupid things coming out of it. I don’t know what it was about being this girl’s company, but she kinda had me all tongue-tied, which made me feel a little uneasy.

Chapter Eight

Mina

I don't know why, but Jax seemed a little nervous. Perhaps nervous was the wrong word. Edgy – that was the word I was looking for. He had looked down twice at my phone. Did he know that I had it on and was recording short snippets of him and our conversation? No, he didn't know, I was sure of that. He would have been more than just edgy if he knew I was recording him. He would’ve been as mad as hell – just like my mother had been. He ordered two shakes and I watched to see if he checked out the waitress’ arse as she flounced away. He didn't, he was looking at me. Good. It made filming him easier.

"Expecting a call?" he said, staring back at me from across the table.

"Huh?" I mumbled.

"You haven't let go of your phone since we got here," he said glancing down at it then back at me. His dark eyes were like wells – easy enough to fall into. His little goatee was black and coarse-looking. I'd never kissed a guy with a beard before, and I couldn’t help wonder what it would feel like to be kissed by him. Would it feel rough? Would it make my skin tingle? I crossed my legs beneath the table and pushed the thoughts that were creeping around the edge of my mind away.

Cupping my hand around my phone, I placed it into the pocket of my denim cutoffs. I smiled at him, trying to hide my annoyance that I'd had to stop secretly filming him. But I couldn't risk getting caught. Not again – not ever. I'd been caught once before and ended up living five thousand miles away for home because of it.