both talking in low voices, but Jaime sounds angry.
The conversation is short. Within just a few minutes, she’s slipping back into her bedroom.
While I wish it were otherwise, she doesn’t remove her robe, merely comes to the edge of the bed and sits on it, angling to face me. Her expression says all I need to know. She’s bothered by her brother’s visit.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask hesitantly.
She sighs. “My brother needed money. It’s not the first time, and I’m frustrated with his inability to take care of himself.”
I know he lives with her parents, but not much more. “Doesn’t he work?”
Jaime shakes her head, muttering. “Not at anything for long.”
“And why does he need money?”
“I don’t know,” she grumbles, flopping down on the bed beside me. She rolls to her back, laces her hands over her stomach, and stares at the ceiling. “I asked him point-blank if it was drugs, but he swore it wasn’t. It was just a cash-flow problem on a job he finished recently.”
“What job?”
Jaime rolls her head to look at me, her cheeks slightly pink. “I don’t ask for details. Is it bad I don’t want to know?”
“No,” I say with a smile. “You don’t want to know if it’s bad.”
I resist the urge to offer to check him out. It’s something I could easily do through Jameson, but I’m not ready to blow my fake job cover, and I don’t want to have to explain how I would be able to check him out.
Instead, I merely say, “You could always say no to his requests.”
“I know, I know,” she mutters with a sour expression. “I tell my parents all the time that they’re enabling him by letting him live at their house without requiring him to contribute. I’m doing the same damn thing.”
“Why are you doing it?”
Her expression turns to worry. “Because I’m afraid if I don’t, something bad will happen to him.”
Without a doubt, I know in my gut he’s into something bad. If Jaime is feeling that way, I will trust her judgment. I decide to text Bodie to ask him to run a background check on her brother. I’d do it myself, but I have no intention of leaving Jaime for the rest of the weekend. We’ve made plans to spend it together, and there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be right now.
CHAPTER 7
Jaime
The weekend has gone by too fast in my opinion. Before meeting Cage, I actually looked forward to Mondays because my job is important to me. I love it so much that it is not a chore to head into the office to start a week that will be filled with as much strife and heartache as it will victories and rewards.
But after spending this entire weekend with Cage, I don’t want tomorrow to come. I want one more day because it’s been perfect in every way.
He brought a weekend bag with him on Friday night as we planned. Or rather, he had planned it. Saturday morning, we had a late brunch out at a popular restaurant. We went to the Warhol museum, then for fun, we hit River’s Casino. I’m not much of a gambler, and I’d only been one other time. Neither is Cage, but he had never been.
We cooked dinner together at my apartment Saturday night. Laughs and silliness, bolstered with a bottle of wine we drank while we cooked a decent chicken Parmesan and made a terrible attempt at cannolis.
“I suppose this is a result of you being of Irish heritage and me being a southern boy,” Cage said with a grimace when he tasted the first cannoli. The filling was bland and runny while the shell was semi burnt.
So we bundled up in coats and walked two blocks down the street to a donut shop for dessert.
That night was another magical, crazy, and wild romp of pleasure with Cage in my bed. Nothing is ever the same with him. I love that he’s inventive and filthy, but can be sweet and tender at other times. He’s the only man I’ve been with—which there haven’t been that many in my twenty-six years—that makes it his sole purpose to make sure I come first when we fuck, and then a second time before or at the same time he finishes. He’s every woman’s dream in bed.
Sunday was a day of relaxation. We cooked breakfast together, watched the Steelers on TV, and then ordered a pizza for dinner. In between all of that, there