Knowing Claire (The Possessed Series Book 1) Page 2

  “Ah-ha. I knew it.”

  Claire went into defense mode. “It wasn’t like that. I was drinking at the time and just curious. Can we talk about something else?”

  “No, we can’t. The man’s in love with you, Dork. You’re either leading him on or—”

  “I’m not leading him on, okay? Jaxon’s the sweetest, most gorgeous, decent man I’ve ever met.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Claire hit the brakes, and pulled off the side of the road. She knew Victoria was right in her assessment of the situation with Jaxon Sanders. But no matter how much Claire cared for the man, they could never be together. His father would see to that, she thought with a pang of regret.

  She turned in her seat to face Victoria. “I want out of this small town. I have dreams that are bigger than anything I can find here. I’ve never known anyone like Jaxon, but his home is here. His family, friends, business, all here. I can’t ask him to give that up for me and move to a big city where he wouldn’t be happy. It would slowly destroy him, and ultimately, us.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  Anxiety tightened Claire’s gut. She hedged. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, you know that.”

  “You’re sure it’s not what your mother wants?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Indignation replaced regret. “Mom only wants what’s best for me, and so do I. There are more opportunities for me in California, Tori. There’s something bigger out there. I just have to find it.” She hated lying to Victoria, but some things couldn’t be divulged. No matter how much she wanted to scream it to the world.

  “Okay, don’t get your thong in a bunch. I just want you to be happy, and I hate to see you running from something that most people would kill for. I sure wish I had a man look at me the way Jaxon looks at you.”

  “I think you’re seeing things. Jaxon and I are friends, nothing more.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Victoria retorted.

  “This conversation is over.” With a sigh of resignation, Claire pulled back onto the road and headed toward home.

  Chapter Four

  Jaxon fished out his cell from the console of his truck. He’d been sitting in Claire’s driveway for the past five minutes alone. The women had left ahead of him, and he’d taken his time arriving so he could smoke. They should have been here by now.

  Claire’s small red sports car rounded the corner just as he was about to call her. She pulled up next to his truck and got out. Victoria followed suit with a twinkle in her eyes, grinning up at Jaxon as he perched on the edge of his seat with one leg hanging out the door.

  “Hungry, Sanders?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m about to go down on one knee.” He glanced at Claire as she bounded up the steps to the big Victorian-style house, and disappeared inside without a backward glance.

  “That cat over there was beginning to look like a steak. You got here just in time.” He nodded toward the black furball lounging on the porch.

  Victoria chuckled. “Come on. I’ll hook you up.”

  “With the cat?”

  “If you do the dishes after dinner.”

  Jaxon slid from the truck and trailed after the sarcastic blonde. He preceded her through the door, taking a seat on the lumpy couch that he’d always hated with a passion. With all the nice furnishings the home possessed, the couch stuck out like a sore thumb and was just as uncomfortable as one. With a shake of his head, he snatched up the remote.

  Claire’s voice echoed from the back of the house. “No football, Jaxon. It’s Sunday. Have some respect.”

  Something in her tone piqued his curiosity. He unfolded his tall frame from Satan’s sofa and made his way to her bedroom, stopping in front of her partially open door. He lifted his hand to knock just as Claire moved into his line of site, muttering to herself about know-it-alls. What a vision she makes, he thought with a twitch from the front of his jeans. She wore nothing but a red bra and matching thong.

  Jaxon stood there frozen, unable to move, drinking in her amazing body. He knew it was wrong to keep looking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His sex filled with blood, hardening into a nearly painful erection.

  “Hey, Sanders, can you give me a hand with this?” Victoria’s voice interrupted his voyeuristic moment, and he jerked his hand back. What am I doing standing outside her room like a modern-day Peeping Tom?

  Jaxon forced himself to walk away before he gave into the urge to barge into her room and claim her. She belonged to him. He felt it in his soul.

  He stopped in the hall to admire Claire’s graduation picture on his way to the kitchen. It hung in the midst of a collage of smiling faces. Random photos of family and friends were hanging askew in no particular order. A narrow table sat against the wall littered with trophies, awards, and trinkets from Claire’s many achievements. Pride filled his chest along with pain. She really was meant for great things, and damn his foolish heart for trying to stand in her way.

  “Yo, Jaxon.” Victoria barked from the kitchen in a fake British accent full of impatience.

  He turned to go just as another image caught his eye. A picture of Claire and Tori at senior prom hung on the opposite wall. Both girls were smiling and holding hands, appearing completely happy, but something was off about it. Jaxon stared at the photo for a long moment before he realized what it was. Claire’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was sadness in their depths that he’d seen a couple of times before. She appeared lost…haunted.

  “That was a great night.”

  Jaxon had been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard Claire’s approach. He gazed down at the top of her head as she lifted the frame from its home and held it up for inspection. She was so small compared to him that her head didn’t quite reach his shoulders.

  She raised her face and smiled up at him. “Do you know what I did that night?”

  He didn’t want to know. But instead he said. “Held Victoria’s hair while she puked?”

  It was a lame thing to say, but his stomach was in knots waiting on her to tell him of some guy she’d been with.

  “Tried my first cigarette.” She ran her thumb over the image.

  The very mention of the little white sticks of doom set his teeth on edge. He wanted one in the worse kind of way.

  “You never told me you smoked.”

  “It was a phase. I had a rebellious streak a mile wide.” She replaced the photo.

  “Had?” He couldn’t help but tease her.

  She skirted around him. “I’m no longer rebellious. I’ve evolved into stubbornness.”

  “You got that right,” he mumbled, following her into the kitchen.

  “Never mind now, Jaxon. I no longer need the benefit of your great height.” Victoria tossed him a beer and went back to stirring something that smelled delicious.

  He popped the top and took a long drink. “What smells so good?”

  “Spaghetti and cat balls,” Victoria answered in a matter-of-fact tone before placing a lid on the pot.

  “Freak.” Jaxon shook his head. “I’ll be right back. I have a call to make.”

  Chapter Five

  “Does he really think I don’t know he smokes?” Claire grinned at the back of Victoria’s head.

  The blonde glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t even know you knew. He tries so hard to hide it from you.”

  “I’ve known for years, Tori. I should go out there and relieve his mind. It’s his life to do with as he wants.”

  “True, but if you open that door, he’ll crush it before you reach him. I can only guess at how much money he’s wasted on half-smoked cigarettes when he’s near you.”

  A vision of her father lying in a coffin passed through Claire’s mind. “I just don’t want the same thing to happen to—”

  “He’s a big boy, Claire. Really big. Gigantic—”

  “Okay. I get it.”

  “Go tell Goliath the Cataroni and cheese is ready.” Victo
ria chortled.

  Claire’s lips twitched. “You mean spaghetti.”

  “Yeah. That too. But give him a minute to finish his game of hide-and-smoke.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Claire trailed off into the living room and turned on the television before easing over to the window to crack open the blinds.

  Jaxon leaned against his truck with his back to the house. A puff of smoke left his mouth to drift off in the breeze like a lazy cloud on a summer day. The picture he made was not only sexy but endearing.

  Claire abandoned her post at the window to take a seat on her most cherished couch. She understood Jaxon’s need to keep his bad habit from her, but that didn’t mean she had to like that he did. One of the things she loved most about him was the fact that she could tell him anything without expecting judgment. She wanted him to feel the same about her.

  With a sigh of frustration, she leaned back against the cushions to wait. Surely he wouldn’t let Victoria’s warmed-up, leftover spaghetti get cold.

  After several commercials on weight loss, gum disease, and car insurance, Claire jumped to her feet. She marched to the door, jerked it open, and came face to face with Jaxon.

  “I was just coming to get you. Dinner’s ready.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Were you spying on me?”

  “Of course not. I was watching Criminal Minds,” she stuttered.

  He glanced toward the television. “What episode is it?”

  “It’s um—”

  “You were stuck to the blinds like a crackhead, Claire. Looking at my ass, no doubt.” He grinned and stepped around her.

  Claire closed the door. “Well, it is a nice ass, but I was actually waiting on you to finish your cigarette.”

  Jaxon came to a stop. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t approve, and I try like hell not to do it anywhere near you.”

  A lump formed in her throat. Damn, she loved him. “Well, you don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”

  She walked past him and gave his butt a smack. “Besides, I’m sure I do things you don’t approve of also.”

  “You’d be correct.”

  “How unfortunate for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, waiting for his predictable retort.

  “Kiss it, Claire.”

  * * * *

  An entire pot of spaghetti and two bottles of wine later, the three of them moved to the living room for the new episode of Criminal Minds.

  Jaxon splayed out on the lumpy couch while Claire laid in front of him in a spooning fashion. Her sweet scent surrounded him, making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation she and Victoria were having. Something about who was hotter, Hotchner or Derek.

  He refrained from any sarcastic remarks and leaned forward to grab his beer from the coffee table. Claire snagged it and handed it back to him.

  “Thank you,” he murmured, and took a long draw from the cool, brown bottle.

  They’d switched to beer after killing off the wine, which was fine by Jaxon. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker anyway. And if Claire stretched one more time, pressing her luscious ass against him, he’d be forced to push her off onto the floor. She had no idea the torment he was in by being so close to her.

  “You better get to bed, Claire,” Victoria muttered. “You have to open in the morning.”

  “Don’t remind me. Any chance of talking you into going in my place?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t have to make an appearance until noon. But my heart will be with you.” Victoria laid a hand on her chest for dramatic effect.

  “You suck.” Claire presented her with the finger and stood. She glanced down at Jaxon before stumbling toward the hall. “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

  He knew better than to argue with her. Besides, he had enough alcohol in him to endure sleeping on that piece of shit sofa for a week. He would buy her a new one first thing in the morning, he decided with a wince.

  Jaxon stretched his long legs out as far as the couch would allow. “Why does she have this ugly, uncomfortable lump of springs, Tori?”

  “It belonged to her grandfather. He used to keep it in his office at Bryson’s, and Claire couldn’t bear to part with it when she remodeled the place. She grew up napping on it as a child. Her daddy loved the old thing too. It’s like a family member to her.”

  “Damn.” Jaxon immediately felt contrite. He knew how much Claire missed Dexter and her dad.

  “It’s cool.” Tori waved it off. “She knows how awful it is. I hate the damn thing too, but it makes her feel good, so we compromise. Besides, she let me keep that.” She nodded toward a hideous green lamp perched on a table next to her chair.

  Jaxon laughed. He couldn’t help it. He wondered why he’d never noticed it before. “Let me guess. Your daddy gave it to you also.”

  A shadow passed through eyes. “I’m going to hit the hay. I’ll see you in the morning.” She left the room, leaving Jaxon to frown at her retreating back.

  That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours he’d noticed something was off with Victoria. He made a mental note to speak with her about it over breakfast.

  Chapter Six

  Claire rolled over and glanced at the clock she’d forgotten to plug in the night before. She jumped from the bed in a panic, immediately regretting it. Her head spun, forcing her to grab onto the headboard to keep from falling.

  After several deep breaths, she let go of her anchor and made her way down the hall into the living room. The grandfather clock in the corner told her she had three hours before she had to be up for work.

  Poor Jaxon, she thought with a grimace. He was going to be sore as hell from sleeping on the too-short sofa. She tiptoed farther into the room until the couch came into view. Two things became obvious at once, Jaxon wasn’t on the couch, and the front door had been left open a crack.

  He must be smoking. She crept to the door, listening for sounds of movement. A howl split the night, and Claire nearly jumped out of her skin. Wolves were unheard of in DeFuniak Springs, other than the two Jaxon owned, and the closest known wildlife resort was located in the neighboring Holmes County.

  With her eyes huge in her face, Claire eased the door open to peer into the night. “Jaxon?” she whispered. Silence.

  Another howl ricocheted off the trees, sending nerves running up her back. Adrenaline coursed its way through her body, leaving tense muscles and a racing heart as evidence of its power. She wanted nothing more than to run back into her bedroom, lock the door, and crawl under the covers. But Jaxon was out there somewhere with a wild animal. She had to do something.

  “Jaxon Sanders, you better answer me.” When he didn’t respond, she flipped on the outside light and glanced around the porch, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Something ran between her legs and into the house with enough force it nearly knocked her off balance. It took her a second to realize it was Victoria’s cat. “Damn it, Psycho. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Claire never understood why Tori would name a cat “Psycho,” but she was inclined to agree with her in that moment. The damn thing just randomly appeared at the most inopportune times like something out of a Wes Craven movie.

  With her senses on high alert, she stepped out onto the porch. Crickets chanted in synchrony, partially drowning out the hoot of a nearby owl. Stars peppered the sky in beautiful, twinkling brilliance, resembling diamonds scattered across a black velvet backdrop.

  Wildlife seemed oblivious to a predator in their midst, Claire noted as she slowly descended the steps and crept along the front of the porch. “Jaxon,” she hissed. Where the hell can he be?

  She came to a stop at the corner of the house. The light spilling from the porch had grown dimmer the farther she walked. One more step and she’d be immersed in darkness. She wanted to turn back so bad her muscles tightened up. Her brain fought a war with her heart, and lost.

  She loved Jaxon, always had, even though he could never know. His family owned half of Walton County and boa
sted of politicians from Tallahassee to Washington DC. They had a string of hardware stores that included Bay and Okaloosa Counties as well. Jaxon was expected to marry well and run for office. He’d already stepped into his father’s shoes, taking on half the family business.

  Alfred Sanders was a very prominent man in the community, well respected by his peers, and loved by all who knew him. He headed up most of the local charities, fundraisers, and political events. His seat as county commissioner of district five had won him the people’s trust and loyalty for years to come. He expected his children to follow suit, and Marissa, Jaxon’s sister, was no exception.

  Jaxon had been groomed since elementary school to become the damn president, Claire mused. She had no doubt he would do great things, which was part of the reason she could never allow him to know her feelings for him, or that his father had forbidden her from having a relationship with his son years ago. She would never forget the night Alfred approached her just before senior prom. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Tori.

  A low growl came from behind her, and she bit back a scream. She spun around in panic, her terrified gaze scanning the shadows in rapid sweeps, landing on a pair of yellow, glowing eyes. The sounds coming from the beast were horrifying, yet she couldn’t look away.

  Her hand trembled as she slowly moved it toward the porch railing. If she could get her legs to work, she might have a chance of swinging over the side and making it into the house before being attacked.

  It took everything she had not to cry out. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her dinner threatened to come back up. Sweat beaded on her forehead to trickle down into her eyes.

  With the power of fear and sheer survival instincts, she raised her foot, preparing to leap. A massive wolf sprang from the shadows, heading toward her faster than her mind could process. A scream burst from her as she dropped to her knees and covered her head with her arms. Jaxon.

  Something crashed in front of her with a deafening roar a split second before the wolf would have torn into her. She jerked her head up in time to watch two giant beasts land several feet from her in a tangle of snarling fur.