Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(7)



“So. End of March?” Nick asked. She nodded, watching Jameson.

“I'll try,” was all she offered.

“That's all I ever ask. I gotta go. Take care of yourself,” he instructed her. She nodded again as Jameson finally walked out of the house.

“I never do,” she replied, then hung up the phone.

Jameson was slowly making his way towards her, his hands in pants pockets. She sighed as she watched him. He was wearing a suit, this one with a vest. It killed her. She wanted to lick the fabric, he looked so good. He had everything tailored, so everything fit him like a glove. She loved it. She always loved the way he looked; he always took her breath away a little.

Sometimes, he made it very hard for her to hate him.

“Talking with your boyfriend?” he asked snidely as he approached her.

And sometimes, he made it very easy.

“He's lonely. Can I go visit him?” Tate asked. Jameson snorted.

“Abso-fu-ckin'-lutely not,” he replied, standing right over her.

“Scared you'll lose me?” she laughed. He laughed as well.

“I couldn't get rid of you if I tried. No, but I don't want to have to fly to Arizona, of all the god forsaken places, to rescue you from some ridiculous situation you will no doubt get yourself into,” he answered, taking his hands out of his pockets and opening his jacket.

“All true. But still. Can I go see him?”

“No.”

“It's very hard for me to be a good girlfriend to him, when you're always interfering,” Tate teased. Jameson glared at her.

“It must be even harder for you to be a good girlfriend to him when I'm the one who's always inside you,” he responded. She shrugged.

“What are you doing home?” she asked, cutting through the flirting. Or was it teasing? Bullying? It was all the same to her.

“It occured to me that maybe you would be uncomfortable here, all alone,” Jameson said.

“Sanders is here,” Tate reminded him. He rolled his eyes.

“Sometimes that's almost like one and the same. I only had one consultation this afternoon, so I rescheduled it and came home,” he explained.

“For me?” she asked. He nodded.

“For you.”

Sometimes he could almost be sweet. Sure, he was the devil incarnate, but in his own weird way, he would try to be sweet. She tried to encourage those moments, figured they would lure him into a false sense of security.

“That's very nice of you,” she said, reaching up and grabbing onto his hand. He frowned, but allowed her to link their fingers.

“I also had something else,” he went on.

Uh oh.

She let go of his hand.

“What?” she asked, instantly wary. He lowered himself so he was sitting on the lounger across from her.

“I have to go out of town,” Jameson started. Her breath caught in her throat. “Just to Los Angeles. I've been trying to sell off my piece of a film company, and it needs my personal attention. I'll be back in a couple days, five at the most.”

Los Angeles. L.A. didn't scare her, Tate didn't have any bad memories associated with that city. She had been nervous that he was going to say New York, or worse, Berlin. L.A. she could handle. It was actually a good thing. Ang hadn't been over to Jameson's house, but maybe now he could be convinced to come over if the devil wasn't home.

“Oh, that's it?” she feigned nonchalance. “That's fine. Are you taking Sandy?”

“I was planning on it, but I don't have to,” Jameson offered. She waved her hand.

“No, it's cool. I'll just bug him if we're here alone. When you're not here, it's basically me just following him around all day,” she laughed. Jameson didn't. He looked suspicious.

“I didn't think you would take this so well,” he told her. She managed to shrug.

“Why? You've been to L.A. before, remember? Maybe this time, instead of two women, you should try for a full on orgy,” she joked. Still no laughter.

“And I certainly didn't think you would be okay with that,” he added. Tate was surprised. Was he actually worried about how she would feel?

“Why wouldn't I be?” she asked.

“Well, last time I attempted to sleep with another woman, I had to pull you off of a certain slutty maid after -,” he started. She held up her hand.

“That was completely different. I don't care if you fu-ck other women, I just don't want to be a part of it. Besides, she was a bitch who didn't know her place. I was there first,” Tate said. He finally smiled.

“Staking a claim on me? Sexy. But I'm kind of disappointed, does this mean no threesomes in our future?” he asked, pouting his lower lip out. She resisted the urge to nibble on it.

“Sure, we can have a threesome,” she nodded as she laid back on the lounger, putting her hands under her head.

“Really?” he asked, his voice full of surprise. She nodded her head again.

“Of course. I've got, like, a dozen guys I can name, right now, that I would love to be in a threesome with you. I know you don't like Ang, but we've kind of had this long standing thing that if I was ever gonna try DP, he had to be one of the P's,” Tate explained. Jameson's foot hooked under her lounger and suddenly she was being shoved over. She rolled onto the grass, snorting and laughing.

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