And his straight black eyebrows only emphasized the bluest eyes ever born to a human being. You could see those jewels from fifty yards away.

I knew that for a fact.

He was bare-chested, of course, and the cuts and dips of his abs and slim waist were hard to look away from. But I’d look away, scowl, glance back real quickly, and then look away again. His arms were a lot bigger than the last time I’d seen them.

He was huge.

And nineteen.

And a troublemaker.

And scary.

I dug in my eyebrows as deep as I could manage and met his gaze again.

His lips were tilted in a smile. “Don’t worry. I know.” He sighed, cutting me off before I could speak. “You’re an independent woman who can fight her own battles, blah, blah, blah, and et cetera. Just say thank you.”

Oh.

He thought I was mad about the Liam episode. That worked. I arched an angry eyebrow for extra effect, not saying thank you.

He smiled, probably amused by my defiance. “You looking for your cousin?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Come on.” He took my hand.

The car grime on his hand rubbed into mine, and I held him firmly, a smile that I wouldn’t set free tickling the corners of my mouth.

I liked how it felt. Sandy, gritty, alive.

Everything had always been clean for me. Every moment of my life had been manicured, pedicured, and scrubbed. My clothes always matched, my fingernails were always clean, and my biggest decision was whether I should buy the silver ballet flats or the black ones.

Now Jaxon Trent’s dirty hands fused with my sweaty palms, and I wondered how good his dirt would feel everywhere else on my skin.

I glanced around me, noticing people noticing us. Their eyes visibly taking in the sight of Jax holding my hand behind him, at which point a confused look would appear on their faces. A couple of people seemed surprised, and a few others—women, mostly—scrunched up their noses or looked away, annoyed.

I squeezed his hand one last time—hard—because I never wanted to let it go, and then I yanked my hand quickly away. Jax only looked back for a second, probably to make sure I hadn’t run off.

“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled as I followed him through the kitchen. “Isn’t there a maximum capacity in a house like they have for restaurants and elevators?”

Jax ignored me as if I’d asked a rhetorical question. We slithered through the crowd, stepping aside as three young men crashed through the back doorway.

“Shane comes around quite a bit,” he said. “But don’t worry. No one messes with her.”

“Not even you?” I ventured, following him into the backyard.

Please say that you haven’t screwed my cousin. Please, please, please.

He kept walking, turning his head only slightly. “Especially not me.”

I exhaled, trying to keep my cool and my thoughts together. Until I took a look around. The backyard was insane, and I couldn’t help gawking.

“Uh, I …” Was that a Jacuzzi? “I just came to take Shane home. Back to Tate’s, I mean.”

“I figured.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was nodding. His ponytail rose and fell on his spine. “See?” He turned and gestured through the gate. “She’s fine.”

But I barely registered my cousin sitting in a lawn chair, talking closely with another girl.

“What the hell?” I burst out, my eyes burning from not blinking.

No wonder it felt as if Tate’s house was shaking! The party next door had spilled over into her backyard.

“K.C.!” Shane smiled with eyes full of mischief as she sat cross-legged on the lawn chair. I noticed that she had a Solo cup in her hand, but to be honest, my head was elsewhere now.

The old wooden fence that had separated Jared’s and Tate’s backyards was now gone.

It had been replaced with an awesome-looking wall of aged red bricks, pierced to leave small empty spaces for looking through. Each three-foot section of the brick wall was interrupted by a brick column, a lamppost sitting on top of each one. Where you would have to hop the old dowdy wooden fence before, you could now simply walk through a solid wooden gate to venture into the next backyard. Thus making two spaces into one.

Apparently Jax was using both yards for his party tonight. How had I not noticed the new fence when I got here? And how had I not noticed the party practically on top of me when I was inside Tate’s house working? And how was Jax, who was only nineteen years old, getting all this liquor? And how the hell was he paying for all this stuff!

Shane had resumed her conversation with the girl she’d been talking to, so I let her sit tight as I followed Jax into Tate’s backyard to the array of car parts spread out on a folding table. Several men sat looking over the machinery, inspecting, taking things apart, whatever.

I shook my head, in a daze. “Jax, what the hell do you have going on here?” I asked quietly.

It wasn’t my intention to sound uptight or accusing, but I was concerned. All this took money. Lots of it.

I knew Jax was skilled and smart, especially with computers, so I’d never doubted that he’d do well for himself. I’d overheard him saying once that a person’s entire life was online. You could control it or be vulnerable to it.

And you didn’t have to know Jax well to know he liked control.

But to have all this? So young?

He picked up a tool and looked to be continuing work that he’d been in the middle of. “How do you mean?” he asked.