The love of a badboy

Chapter Six

It had been a day since that stormy night on Ethan Cross's porch, and Jamie still couldn't get the man out of her head.

Worse—his abs had become her new bedtime lullaby.

She hated how clearly she could picture them… the way they looked under the soft, golden glow of his porch light. Hard. Defined. Tempting. Like something carved by a sculptor with far too much time and an obsession with perfection.

And his voice—God, his voice.

That deep, crisp tone had lodged itself in her memory like a song she couldn't shake or didn't want to. It was strong enough to put a man in his place, but smooth enough to talk a woman right out of her clothes. He called her "sweetheart" with a hint of a southern drawl, even though nothing about his sleek, dark look screamed small-town cowboy. No. Ethan was something else entirely.

Polished danger, and something so dark and masculine it made her knees weak just thinking about it.

And that was the problem.

She was thinking about it. Constantly.

It didn't help that she'd had that dream. The one she kept replaying in her head on a loop, like a guilty pleasure she couldn't quit.

Her cheeks flushed just remembering it.

His hands had been around her throat—not in fear, but in control. Commanding. Teasing. His mouth, his tongue, his body—it had been everywhere. Taking and giving in equal measure, turning her into something molten beneath him. She could still feel the phantom weight of him pinning her down, the heat of his breath against her skin, the thick, aching pressure between her legs that had her whimpering in her sleep.

And right when the dream had reached its sinful peak—

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

Jamie's eyes flew open, her heart lurching in her chest. Her breath caught somewhere between mortification and lingering arousal.

She'd been daydreaming about the dream.

Jesus.

Lily stood in the doorway in her footie pajamas, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her ever-faithful giraffe tucked under one arm. Jamie couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. How long would that stuffed animal last? Probably until high school, at this rate.

Jamie pushed the covers off and sat up, trying not to squirm against the telltale wetness between her thighs. The black silk sheets she'd splurged on after the split from her husband now bore the very real evidence of just how starved she was—for touch, for intimacy, for someone who made her feel alive again.

It was Sunday, and although the storm was finally far away, business could easily open, and roads were now dry.

Jamie wanted to give herself and her staff one extra day to recuperate.

Business was excelling, so she could afford to spare one more day without falling into a deficit.

Also, she thought it would be nice if she and Lily could go and visit her sister.

Lily desperately wanted to go and swim, and Jamie honestly missed the sight of her sister.

"Okay, Bunny," she said, forcing her voice to sound normal. "I'll make you something in a minute."

Lily nodded, already shuffling off, half-asleep.

Jamie exhaled sharply. Crisis averted.

Sort of.

She dragged a hand through her hair, her body still humming with frustration. It had been almost a year since she left Sam. Nearly two years since someone had touched her with anything close to desire. And now? Her brain had decided that Ethan Cross—a man she barely knew—was the one to break that dry spell.

She didn't even know if she could do it anymore. Let someone close. Let herself want. Could she trust her body in someone else's hands after everything?

But this wasn't going away on its own.

And she knew exactly who could help her sort through the emotional minefield of it all.

Her sister Aria was the only person who could give her some clarity.

With that final, slightly embarrassing thought still lingering in her mind, Jamie swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got up to get ready for the not-so-long drive ahead.

This morning's breakfast would be quick and simple. There wasn't time for her usual quiet routine—not with Lily buzzing with excitement like she'd just been promised a trip to Disneyland.

To say Lily was excited would've been a massive understatement. She loved going to Aria's condo.

And really, who could blame her?

Aria's place wasn't just a home—it was a playground for both kids and adults. It had everything: a heated pool, an indoor sauna, a fully stocked gym, a sleek basketball court, and Lily's favorite part—the "Kiddie Corner," which was decked out with slides, a foam pit, tunnels, and enough toys to make any five-year-old believe they'd walked into a magical kingdom. There were always other children there too, many of whom Lily had come to know by name.

It gave Jamie a sense of peace, knowing her daughter could run and play safely while she sat on the patio with Aria and her girlfriend, Francisca, sipping something warm and catching up on life—if only for a few precious hours.

Jamie moved through the house on autopilot, tossing together a small breakfast while Lily ran around like a wind-up toy on full battery. Between bites of toast, she double-checked her mental checklist: charger, check. Lily's snacks, check. Extra hoodie for Lily in case it got cold later, check. And, of course, the most crucial step—convincing her daughter to use the bathroom again before leaving.

It had taken three tries. Three.

Because the absolute worst thing—the one thing Jamie knew too well—was getting twenty minutes onto the highway and hearing a tiny voice from the backseat chirp, "Mommy, I have to pee."

She wasn't about to relive that kind of trauma today.

"Okay, snacks in the bag, you've peed again, your tablet's charged, and your giraffe is in the seat," Jamie muttered, more to herself than anyone else, as she zipped up her go-to weekend tote and slung it over her shoulder.

Lily was already waiting by the front door, hopping in place with her shoes half-tied, eyes wide and eager. Jamie grinned despite herself.

"Alright, let's go, Little Miss Energy."

Together, they stepped out into the cloudy morning air. The storm had passed, but the ground was still damp, and the air smelled like fresh earth and pine. Jamie took a moment to inhale it, grounding herself.

Today wasn't just about distracting Lily or spending a few hours in the comfort of her sister's condo.

It was about clarity.

She needed to talk to someone who knew her. Not the new version of her who ran a coffee shop and slept with a bat under the bed just in case—but the girl she'd been before the chaos. Aria had always seen through her, even when Jamie tried to act like she had everything together.

And she didn't have it. Not when Ethan Cross was showing up in her dreams like some dark, seductive knight she'd never asked for.

Sliding behind the wheel, Jamie started the car and glanced back at Lily, who was already munching on pretzels and watching her show.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her heart pounded as she scanned the area, but she saw no one. Still uneasy, she stepped out of the car and checked the door one last time, making sure it was locked before climbing back inside.

Her whole aura was off, she thought as she turned the key, shaking off the weird feeling she had.

The hum of the engine kicked in. The road to Eagle Crest stretched ahead—quiet, gray, and wide open.

Jamie hoped that by the time she got there, she would be brave enough to say what she'd been too embarrassed to admit out loud.

She needed help. Not with her daughter. Not with her business.

But with her love life.

Because something inside her had been shaken loose by a man with stormy eyes and a dangerous smile, and no amount of pretending was going to put it back in place.