The Hawthorne Legacy (The Inheritance Games, #2)

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

took off running.

Jameson

Tears. In my eyes.

“Everyone out.” The realization that it was Jameson who had spoken those words, Jameson who was willingly stepping back from the puzzle—for me—rocked me to my core.

Within moments, the Hawthornes were gone.

Jameson and Xander slipped out of the car after me, and each of them took one of my sides. At least this time, it was me and the Hawthornes against the world.

in the archive when Jameson found me. “You look like someone who needs a distraction,” he told me.

Jameson shot my bodyguard his most innocent look.

“What are your feelings on roofs?”

I waited for him to flirt with me, to touch me, to Jameson Hawthorne the answer out of me.

Part of me wanted him to come stand behind me, wanted his arms to wrap around mine. Jameson on the roof.

dropped the club.

The more he thought, the closer to me he came.

There was a question in Jameson’s deep green eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was asking, what he wanted from me.

Jameson looked like he might actually throttle his brother.

stood there, the phone still pressed to my ear, frozen.

Jameson came up beside me. He put his hands on my shoulders. For a second, I thought he might force my eyes to his, but he didn’t. He walked me over to the edge of the roof. The very edge, close enough that Oren called out, but in response, all Jameson did was spread my arms to each side, until his and mine were both held out in a T. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Breathe.”

I felt him breathing.

Jameson’s expression was sharp.

Jameson squeezed in beside me to talk to his brother.

My eyes found their way to Jameson’s.

Because when you and I kiss, you feel it, the same way I do.

kept my eyes on Jameson’s a moment longer,

But each time, as the darkness beckoned, I heard a voice:

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

“You think I didn’t fight the same fight? I halfway convinced myself that as long as Avery was just a riddle or a puzzle, as long as I was just playing, I’d be fine. Well, joke’s on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing.”

Look at her, damn it! Est unus ex nobis. Nos defendat eius.”

Jameson’s voice—

Jameson Hawthorne stood in the doorway.

He walked toward me, and I tracked every step.

He stared at me—at my eyes, at the lines of my face, like he was drinking it in. “I have to say, Heiress, I’m not a big fan of comas.” Jameson sounded just the same, wry and darkly tempting, but the expression on his face was one I’d never seen before. He wasn’t joking. I flashed back to something like a dream. Well, joke’s on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing. Jameson Hawthorne and I had an understanding. No emotions. No mess. This wasn’t supposed to be an epic kind of love. “I came to see you,” Jameson told me. “Every day. The least you could have done was wake up while I was here, tragically backlit, unspeakably handsome, and waiting.”

I remembered standing at the edge of the ocean. I remembered a voice. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

“Every single day, Heiress.” Jameson closed his eyes, just for an instant. “But if I’m not the one you want to see …” “Of course I want to see you.” That was true. I could say it. “But you don’t have to—” Tell me I’m special. Tell me I matter.

“Yes,” Jameson cut in, “I do.” He sank down beside my bed, bringing his eyes level with mine. “Yo...

Everything in me wanted to reach out to him.

like his smile, was devastating.

He stared at me a moment longer, then pressed the disk into my hand. I felt his fingertips on my palm. He left them there for a moment, then tr...

I sucked in a breath and looked from Jameson’s face to the disk. Concentric circles ringed the metal on one side. The other was smooth. He was still trailing his fingers down my arm. “Have you figured out what it is?” I asked, every nerve in my body alive. “No.” Jameson smiled, that crooked, devastating Jameson Hawthorne smile. “I was waiting for you.” Jameson wasn’t patient. He didn’t wait. He lived with his foot on the gas. “You want to figure it out.” I stared at him, feeling his stare on me. “Together.” “You don’t have to say anything.” ...

“You don’t have to kiss me now. You don’t have to love me now, Heiress. But when you’re ready …” He brought his hand to the side of my face. I leaned into it. His breath went ragged, and then he pulled his hand back and nodded to the disk in my hand. “When you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, if it’s going to be me—just flip that disk. Heads, I kis...

eyes sparking.

Jameson.

With a breath, I pulled it forward.

Three hours later, I found Jameson on the roof. He was holding a familiar knife in his hands. He faked like he was going to toss it to me, and my heart sped up. His eyes met mine, and it sped up more. “I have a lot to tell you.” The wind caught my hair, whipping it around my face. “I met Toby, face-to-face. He has a daughter, but it’s not me. She looks just like Emily Laughlin.” Jameson’s green eyes looked fathomless. “I’m intrigued, Heiress.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a coin. This felt more dangerous than riding on the back of a motorcycle or speeding down a racetrack or getting shot at in the Black Wood. This wasn’t just a rush. This was a risk—one the old Avery never would have been capable of taking. My eyes on Jameson’s, I uncurled my fingers, revealing the coin in my palm.

Jameson’s lips ticked up at the edges. “This is Hawthorne House, Heiress. There will always be another mystery. Just when you think you’ve found the last hidden passage, the last tunnel, the last secret built into the walls—there will always be one more.” There was an energy in his voice when he spoke about the House. “That’s why you love it.” I locked my eyes on his. “The House.” He leaned forward. “That’s why I love the House.” I held up the coin. “It’s not the disk,” I said. “But sometimes you have to improvise.” My heart was racing. I was vibrating with the same energy I’d heard in his tone. And like Jameson, I loved it. “Heads, you kiss me,” I said. “Tails, I kiss you. And this time …” My voice cracked. “It means something.” Jameson shot me one of those devastating, crooked Jameson Winchester Hawthorne grins. “What are you saying, Heiress?” I tossed the coin into the air, and as it turned, I thought about everything that had happened. All of it.

The coin landed. “Tails,” I said. “I kiss you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my lips to his. And this time, the joke was on me—because I wasn’t playing. This wasn’t nothing. This was the beginning—and I was ready to be bold.