On closer inspection, he did look a little glazed and in need of sleep himself.
“Do you know each other?” Flores asked. “Mia, how do you know JJ Beckett?”
My manager had obviously recognized him. That made me feel like even more of an idiot. I’d spent nine hours with him and had zero clue who he was. Hell, I’d spent another hour with him the day before and still didn’t catch on.
Now, as he carried me in his strong-as-steel arms, I realized it made a lot more sense. Not only was he ripped and huge, he had Gucci luggage and drank three-hundred-dollar glasses of bourbon. That definitely seemed more on par with a pro football player than a boat salesman. Though to be fair to me, who really knows how a boat salesman lives? I’d never actually met one.
“I do not know JJ Beckett,” I told her.
James made a face. He set me down in a chair in the back.
“I need to call in a replacement for you,” Flores said. “And get myself back out there. The line is backing up to the elevators.”
“I can still work,” I protested. “Just give me a minute.” I took a deep breath.
“You’re not going back to work,” James said, firmly. He grabbed my hand and held it out in front of me. “Your hand is shaking like a leaf.”
It was. “I can’t just leave them short-staffed.” Besides, I needed the money. Things had gotten way worse since Mama’s unexpected stroke. But I had too much pride to admit that out loud to a man whose watch cost what I made in years and years.
“I can’t have you fainting again, Mia. It puts people off their breakfast,” Flores said. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sleep did sound fantastic. “Fine. I guess I’m outnumbered.” I stood and had to pause when black spots danced in front of my eyes.
“How are you getting home?” James asked. “You can’t drive like this.”
“I don’t even have a car. That is not an issue.” My car had crapped out on me seven months earlier and I wasn’t in any sort of position to replace it.
He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. “Let me walk you out.” He put his arm around me and helped me stand up.
Flores handed me Mississippi and gave me a sympathetic look. “Get some sleep, hon.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry,” I told her.
Then I took James out the back door that led to a hallway right by the elevators. “Thanks,” I told him. “I appreciate quick thinking on your part.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. My feelings toward him were as muddled as my brain at the moment. I didn’t feel sharp enough to dissect what had happened between us.
“Oh, this isn’t goodbye,” he said, his voice as firm as his arm around me. “I’m not putting you in a car. You can sleep upstairs in my room.”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I said, though even as I said it, the idea of curling against him was ridiculously appealing. Which meant I did need sleep and possibly an intervention, because the man had accused me of stealing from him and had lied about his identity. “Or having sex with you, if that’s what you meant.”
“I do not want to have sex with you,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I gasped. “Wow. That was insulting.” Though I had tossed that “efficient” comment at him the day before.
He hit the elevator button. “No, I meant you’re dead on your feet. When we have sex again, I want you to be an active participant, not comatose.”
That was slightly mollifying. “I’m not having sex with again, at any point.”
“Sure.”
He guided me onto the elevator.
What the hell was happening? Why was I just letting him lead me around? And why did he sound like he didn’t believe my protests? And why would he want to have sex with me again if he still thought I’d ripped him off?
I was way too tired to make heads or tails of any of those questions.
Without another word, I let him take me to his room, where he helped me into his unmade bed, still rumpled from my nap attempt the day before. I kicked my shoes off and climbed in, sighing in relief. He pulled the comforter over me, and just shook his head in amusement when I set my bag on the pillow next to mine. Then he glanced at his wrist and his dumb watch.
“It’s five thirty. Is there a time you want me to wake you up?”
I shook my head. “No.” I didn’t have a shift until the next morning. “Thanks.” The bed felt like nirvana. I wiggled down deeper under the covers.
“Sweet dreams, Mia.”
I watched him leave, closing the door behind him. I got back out of the bed and locked the door behind him. I didn’t trust myself not to offer him Trixie on a silver platter if he decided to reappear at any point. I was basically at the point of delirium and didn’t trust my judgment.
Then I set the alarm on my phone for seven thirty and was asleep in sixty seconds.
* * *
JJ
* * *
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” Miles asked me when I woke up, daylight hitting me in the eyes.
“Mia is in my bed.”
“I don’t think that’s the way it’s supposed to work. You’re supposed to be in the bed with the female.”
I tried to manage a glare, but wasn’t sure I was very successful. “You don’t understand.”
“I really don’t.” Miles moved toward the kitchen. “And I’m pissed at you for never bringing me that coffee. Now I have to make some.”
“Your life is very hard, Williams.”
“Not as hard as yours. Because I just walked past your room and your bed looks empty to me.”
“Shit.” I kicked off my blanket and forced myself to stand. I was in my underwear, having stripped off my pants and shirt before stretching out on the couch earlier, a raging hard-on making sleep elusive for the first twenty minutes. I had heard Mia lock the bedroom door behind me. Apparently, she didn’t trust me any more than I trusted her. Yet, I still wanted to nail her for twenty-four hours straight.
When I got to my room, Miles was right. No Mia. Not in bed or the bathroom.
“This is getting to be a bad habit,” I told Miles when I came back from my empty bedroom. “This is the second time Mia has rolled out on me.”
“Check your valuables.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to find out that she had stolen from me after I’d offered her a bed to sleep in. That would really ruin my day.
But I couldn’t avoid it. I went back and did another thorough inspection of my belongings. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not because I cared about the possessions all that much, but because damn it, I cared about her.
Seeing her faint had made that clear. When I’d seen her go down, I’d thought of nothing other than to get to her and make sure she was okay. I’d been terrified something was seriously wrong. Now I knew it was just because she pushed herself hard, working tons of hours, and that did something to me. Made my gut tense and my heart soften.
“Everything is there,” I told Miles, feeling a little triumphant about that fact.
“I think you might want to think long and hard about seeing a woman who, after she leaves, requires you to take full inventory of your belongings. I’m just saying.” He sipped his coffee and shook his head. “So what are we doing today? It’s just the three of us once Young comes back from working out.”