Then she’d sold him out for a new playmate.
Veronica dropped her hands, fisting them alongside her thighs. Fantasy-inducing thighs. Tanned and toned and mouthwatering in Daisy Duke cutoffs. A month ago, Jax would have been drooling at the sight. Tonight, he glanced at his watch again and cursed Wes’s late ass.
Veronica leaned forward, jaw tight, eyes hot. “You weren’t going to let me drive. All I wanted was a tiny part. Just one chance to drive a stunt car.”
Warning flares darted into the darkness closing in on his mind as fumes of anger gathered, just waiting for a spark to ignite.
“You. Aren’t. Qualified.” He stood, shoulders back, hands at his hips. Her size—half of his—became instantly obvious. “And nobody dies on my set.”
She kept her stubborn chin up, but those dark eyes darted away from his.
A horn sounded outside. Jax’s gaze darted to the trailer’s single, dirty window and the headlights of Wes’s truck. Relief swept through him like a breeze off Belmont Shores.
He raised a hand to let Wes know he’d seen him and returned his gaze to Veronica. She pouted like a spoiled child. All Jax felt was residual bitterness at himself for being stupid enough to trust her in the first place. And deep disappointment she’d turned out to be like every other woman he’d been with for the last…
He didn’t need to go there.
“You wanted to drive,” he said. “Congratulations, V. You fucked your way into the driver’s seat. I hope you live to enjoy the experience.” He picked up the duffle beside his chair and strode past her. “Lock the door on your way out.”
“Jax.” She grabbed the back of his T-shirt and jerked him to a stop.
He stared at the door, just three feet away, and ground his teeth. Rage steamed from his ears. Hold it together.
“I didn’t come to fight.”
She turned on the I-want-to-slide-around-in-the-sheets-with-you voice, and it pinched low in his gut. But not because he wanted to slide around in the sheets with her. He just wanted to slide around in the sheets with…someone. Some gorgeous, fun, sexy, no-strings woman.
Yep. That would happen. That would happen about the same time humans started inhabiting Mars.
“I came because…” Veronica continued, oblivious to his distress. Her hand slid up and down his arm. Instead of turning him on, it made his skin crawl. “I miss you. I was hoping we could—”
“Nope.” He pulled from her grasp and pushed out the door. “Not interested. At all. Ever again. Lock the door, V, and don’t come back.”
Jax’s hand tightened so hard on the duffle’s handles, his palm stung. He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. At the truck, he yanked the passenger’s door open and tossed his duffle on the floorboard, then hoisted himself toward the seat with the help of a ceiling-mounted handle.
“What if I can get you the contract back?” Veronica asked.
Jax froze halfway into the cab. His gaze met Wes’s. His coworker and friend hated Veronica. Had wanted that Bond movie as badly as Jax. No, he’d wanted it worse. For Wes, the movie was both a stuntman’s dream gig and a gold mine. And Wes, like all the other guys, needed the money.
Wes’s gray eyes narrowed, an impending storm ready to break. He laid a muscled forearm over the steering wheel, his tanned face tightening with tension.
“Murder’ll get you ten in California’s pen. Hit men always talk,” he said in a very low, very serious voice, but his brows rose marginally when he said, “But snuffing someone could come in handy on the résumé.” That stony gaze settled on Veronica again. If Jax didn’t know the man inside and out, he’d be nervous. “If she says what I think she’s going to say, I’m gonna—”
“They’re not happy with the group they contracted with,” she called across the space separating them.
“Fucking A.” Wes’s eyes positively glowed with hatred in the shadow of his ball cap brim as they darted toward Jax. “You’re not buying this—”
“Shut up, Wes,” Veronica said. “Jax, if you’ll consider hooking up with me again, I’ll talk to the director. I know I can get this turned around.”
Jax still stood on the running board, halfway into the cab. He was still staring at Wes, but his gaze blurred over his friend’s taut face.
She was using his dream like a carrot.
But his mind turned to his guys. Of how much work this would bring them. Of the boost it would give Renegades, a boost they would all benefit from for years to come.
He should swallow his pride.
“No, man,” Wes said. “I can see what you’re thinking. And, just…no.”