Chapter 11
Jacob
Jacob tracked him the second he slipped away. He watched Liam push through the crowd and vanish into the dark like he couldn’t get out fast enough. He told himself to look away, to let him go—he didn’t. The moment Liam disappeared, Jacob excused himself and followed.
Outside, the night pressed close. The garden stretched wider than it looked from the ballroom windows. There were winding paths, deep corners, and hedges high enough to swallow sound—a place meant for secrets.
Jacob’s eyes adjusted slowly to the dark.
He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. He could still go back inside and let everyone believe he’d only stepped out for air.
No one would question it. He could finish the night pretending he hadn’t secretly been watching Liam all evening, as if his gaze hadn’t been drawn again and again to the one person he shouldn’t want.
His jaw ached from the tension. Instead of turning back, he walked.
One deliberate step after another, stone giving way to gravel, the crunch loud in the otherwise heavy silence.
Lies lined up in his head—just a conversation, just checking in, just making sure he’s okay. He didn’t believe a single one.
He rounded a bend lined with rose bushes and saw him. Liam stood a few feet ahead; head tipped down, back stiff, arms folded like a shield across his chest. Alone but braced, as if the night itself were pressing too hard against him.
“I saw you bolt,” Jacob said, voice rougher than intended.
For a moment Liam didn’t turn. When he finally did, it was with a smile that wasn’t real, something tight and practiced that Jacob despised the instant he saw it. His eyes were glassy and a little unfocused.
“Just needed air,” Liam said, words slurring around the edges. He rocked back on his heels like his balance couldn’t quite decide what to do.
“Yeah,” Jacob muttered. “You looked like you couldn’t breathe in there.”
The silence that followed pressed at Jacob’s ribs, thick and suffocating.
“I saw you,” Liam said at last.
Jacob’s brows drew together slightly. He didn’t ask what that meant, but Liam went on anyway.
“With her.”
Jacob blinked, confused. “Caroline?”
Liam’s jaw worked. He turned his head, refusing to look at him. “Hand on your chest. Whispering in your ear.”
Jacob’s mouth pressed into a line. “She’s my wife.”
“I know that,” Liam snapped. He winced and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m not stupid. Just drunk enough to say shit I shouldn’t.”
“You sound like it.”
Liam laughed, broken and miserable. “Yeah. That tracks.”
He wavered on his feet. Jacob shifted, instinct pushing him closer, but Liam caught himself—straightening, like it mattered to keep the pretense.
“God, I know,” Liam said, breath hitching. “It’s pathetic. She’s your wife, and I’m just—” His words choked off, like even he didn’t want to hear himself. “Forget it.”
Jacob stared hard at him, heat crawling under his skin. “You don’t get to be upset about that.”
This was the first time they’d circled close to the thing neither of them ever named. It was dangerous ground and Jacob knew it. He could feel the shift, the way every sentence pressed too close to the line they weren’t supposed to cross.
“I’m not upset.” Liam’s hands opened helplessly at his sides. “I’m just… I don’t know what I am. Drunk. Confused. Fucked up.”
Jacob’s jaw clamped so tight it hurt. “Don’t do this. You drank too much. You’ll say shit you’ll regret in the morning.”
“And you’re scared. So what?”
Jacob shook his head. “This isn’t the place or the time.”
“Then tell me where,” Liam shot back, louder now, voice shaking. “Tell me when this conversation would ever be okay, because I’d really love to know.”
Jacob didn’t answer. The silence was brutal, but safer than the truth.
“You followed me,” Liam whispered.
“What if I did?”
Liam’s gaze pinned him. “You could’ve stayed inside. You didn’t. You came after me.”
His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, keeping the truth caged.
Liam stepped closer, too close, his body swaying with the liquor still in his veins. Whiskey clung to his breath, heat flushed his cheeks, and his gaze was raw and stripped bare.
“Why?” Liam asked.
Jacob held himself rigid, shoulders squared like bracing was the only thing keeping him steady. The words in his throat were too dangerous to speak out loud. Because I can’t stay away. Because I don’t know how to stop. None of those things made sense, so he stayed quiet instead.
“Say it,” Liam whispered. “Say it, Jacob.”
He didn’t. Instead he stepped into Liam’s space, close enough to feel the heat coming off his skin and to hear his breath hitch.
“You’re a coward,” Liam spit.
“Probably,” Jacob said, voice unsteady.
Then he reached out—no hesitation, no excuses. His hand cupped Liam’s jaw, rough fingers against flushed skin. Liam sucked in a sharp breath and Jacob felt it vibrate straight through his bones.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
He did anyway.
His thumb dragged slowly over Liam’s cheekbone, his palm tracing down the sharp line of his jaw like he was trying to memorize it.
Liam’s eyes fluttered closed, a small sound escaping him—needy and wrecked.
It shattered something in Jacob. It made him want to tear down everything holding him back, just so he could keep hearing it again and again.
He didn’t understand why this man affected him so deeply, or why he couldn’t seem to pull himself away.
Those full lips were right there. So close. Too tempting. Always making him forget what the hell he was supposed to be doing. His gaze lingered, then dragged higher—beautiful whiskey-colored eyes looked back. God help him, they were full of hunger.
He should have walked away five minutes ago.
Instead, he slid his fingers into Liam’s hair, tugging hard enough to make his head tip back.
Liam’s breath stuttered, lips parting, his body swaying closer like the sting only dragged him in deeper.
His eyes fluttered shut for half a beat, then opened again, all glassy and desperate.
The sight damn near broke him. The way Liam melted into the roughness, the way he surrendered so easily, awakened something primal Jacob usually kept buried.
For one breath he saw it; how easy it would be to close the distance and taste him.
To stop pretending he didn’t want this more than air.
One move and it would be over—wrecking them both.
There would be no undoing it. He couldn’t let that happen.
At the last second he let go, before he did something they would regret in the morning.
His throat worked as he forced the words out. “Go home, Liam.”
Liam froze, face coloring deeper, something fragile flickering in his eyes.
“Get some sleep,” Jacob said, softer now. “You won’t remember half of this in the morning.”
Liam didn’t move or speak, but Jacob couldn’t afford to wait. He turned and walked away, never looking back, though he felt Liam’s gaze on him all the way down the path.
Fuck. What had he just done?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
* * *
“Daddy, look!” Rose pointed, nearly hopping in place. “That one’s dancing!”
Jacob followed her finger to a flamingo half-bent and flapping its wings.
Asher groaned. “It’s not dancing, dummy. It’s trying to scratch its back.”
“It’s dancing,” she insisted, mimicking the bird with her arms spread wide, blond waves flying around her face as she spun.
Rose glared at Asher before turning to him. “Daddy, he’s wrong, right?”
Jacob smothered a grin. “I think you’re both right. It’s a talented flamingo.”
Caroline laughed beside him, her voice warm and easy. She tipped her sunglasses up and gave him a sideways glance. “You’re helpless when it comes to her.”
Jacob looked at their daughter, who was now flapping her arms harder in protest. “Guess I am,” he said, a small smile pulling at his mouth. “Can you blame me?”
Around them, the zoo buzzed with families, the chatter of children and the occasional animal call rising over it all. The air smelled of sunscreen and cotton candy.
Being a celebrity meant eyes followed him almost everywhere.
The baseball cap and sunglasses helped, but never enough to make him disappear.
He caught the familiar glances, the quiet ripple that moved through a crowd once someone recognized him.
A few phones lifted for discreet photos; others asked outright, and he always said yes.
It was part of the life he’d chosen, even if he hated this aspect of it.
Still, with the kids beside him, most people kept their distance.
He was grateful for that—grateful that, for now, Rose and Asher lived in a world where their father was just Dad.
The rest, he and Caroline had learned to tune out.
Asher pressed his face against the glass of the penguin exhibit, nose leaving a smudge. “Do they ever sleep?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Sometimes,” Jacob said. “Just not when you’re watching.”
Asher grinned. “That’s smart. I’d do the same if people stared at me.”
Caroline laughed softly, brushing her hand over Asher’s hair as they walked.
Jacob reached for Rose’s hand as they moved on, her tiny fingers sticky from the ice pop Caroline had given her earlier. For a moment, he let himself just be here: the sunlight, the animals, his family. It should have been enough.
It wasn’t.
Every time he blinked, he saw flashes of the night before: the hush of the garden, the faint rustle of leaves, and the sharp scent of roses in the dark.
Liam’s voice was still there, caught somewhere between anger and ache.
Jacob could feel it in his chest—the weight of the words he hadn’t said, the space he’d left between them.
He’d told himself walking away was the right thing—that it meant control, decency, and doing what a good man should. So why did it feel like a loss?
“Jacob?” Caroline’s voice cut in, soft but pointed. “You look distracted.”
He blinked, straightening. “Just thinking about work.”
She smiled like she’d expected that answer, slipping her arm through his. “Well, stop. You’re here with us.”
He nodded, doing his best to stay in the moment.
Ahead, Asher tugged at the map Rose was holding. “I wanna see the tigers next!” he said. “They’re the strongest.”
“I want elephants!” Rose said, waving her penguin plush in protest. “They have big noses!”
Jacob crouched between them. “Tell you what—we’ll see both. No need to fight.”
Rose considered this, then nodded solemnly. “Okay. But elephants are the bestest.” Her laughter spilled out right after, bright and unguarded.
They moved on, his hand in Caroline’s, the sun warm on their backs. Caroline was smiling again, talking about lunch plans. Rose kept twirling, and Asher ran ahead. It was the kind of day people built memories on.
Jacob smiled too, but beneath the laughter his heart still beat out last night’s rhythm—unsteady, heavy, and impossible to forget.