Chapter Eight #2
He leaned in, his eyes bright and voice dropping. “You sure about that? You keep staring at my… skin. Got a thing for ink?”
His voice was deep and velvety, vibrating through me like a bass note .
I jerked my gaze away from his tattoos, heart thumping in my ears at being caught. “Just making sure you don’t faint,” I squeaked.
He smirked, cocky as hell. “I’d survive if you gave me mouth-to-mouth.”
I bit back a gasp, my ears on fire. “Now I’ll let you die out of spite.”
I watched him laugh , golden head tipping back, and for a second, he looked almost boyish. “You’re trouble, Estelle.”
I flushed. “That’s rich coming from you.” I finished wrapping his hand, refusing to meet his eyes. “Don’t get hit by any more cars.”
He flexed his fingers, slow and deliberate, and my eyes were glued to the sight. “No promises. You make bleeding feel good.”
I let my shoulders drop in slight disbelief that this man was really letting me bicker with him. “You’re annoying.”
"And you’re adorable when you’re pretending not to like me," he murmured, voice all velvet charm.
I ignored him, but my heart was pounding, and I knew he could tell.
He said I was… adorable.
The thought sent warmth blooming through me despite every logical reason to dismiss it as meaningless, weird flirtation. But the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on my face like he was memorizing every detail, made it feel real. Made it feel like more than just practiced charm.
Leo chose that moment to return from his room, his small arms full of plastic dinosaurs and books that he spread across the table.
To my surprise, Jax seemed genuinely engaged as Leo launched into an enthusiastic explanation of each species, their habitats, their diets, asking questions and examining each toy.
Watching him with Leo did things to my heart that I didn't want to happen.
My stomach chose that mortifying moment to betray me, growling loud enough for Leo to look up from his dinosaur book. The sound echoed in the small kitchen like a foghorn announcing my poverty, and shame burned hot in my cheeks .
Perfect. Just perfect. Nothing says "attractive woman" like audible hunger.
Jax's eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing, reading more in that growl than I wanted him to.
Then he was on his feet, moving with that lazy, feline grace that made it impossible not to watch him, his presence filling our small kitchen like he was some sort of beautiful natural disaster.
"Let me buy dinner."
He was already pulling out his sleek phone, voice carrying that casual authority of someone accustomed to solving problems with money.
"You've done enough playing nurse. The least I can do is feed you."
Feed us. Like we're his responsibility. Like he cares.
I stared up at him, thrown off balance by the sudden offer. Pride warred with hunger, with the practical knowledge that whatever was in our cupboard couldn't compare to what he was suggesting. But accepting felt like crossing a line I wasn't sure I wanted to cross.
"You don't have to?—"
"Estelle." His tone was soft but carried steel underneath, the kind of voice that expected to be obeyed. "Let me."
He rolled his shoulders then, a movement that made his tank top ride up just enough to reveal golden skin above his jeans. The glimpse of his abs, ridged and perfect, sent heat shooting through me like molten honey.
This man was going to be the death of me.
"What do you two usually eat for dinner?" he asked, studying my face with an intensity that made me feel exposed.
I hesitated, shame warring with the gnawing ache in my belly that had become as familiar as breathing.
"Whatever's in the cupboard?"
He gave me a look that said he didn't buy my deflection for a second, those sharp eyes seeing through every defense I'd constructed. "That's not good enough."
The authority in his voice sent another inappropriate thrill through me, and I had to remind myself that this was exactly the kind of man I should run from. The kind who was used to taking control, used to getting what he wanted.
The kind who could destroy my heart without even trying.
He pulled out his phone, already dialing, his fingers moving with the confidence of someone who knew his calls would be answered immediately. "You like steak, Estelle? Or are you more of a seafood girl?"
I blinked, completely thrown off balance. You didn't just order fine dining as takeout on a random Tuesday night. That wasn't how normal people lived. That wasn't how my world lived.
"Jax, seriously, you don't have to?—"
He cut me off with a lazy wave that somehow managed to be both commanding and dismissive, making me snap my mouth shut against my own will. The gesture was pure dominance, and my body's response to it was very unwelcome.
Why was that so attractive? Why did every controlling thing make me want to surrender?
"Leo," he called, turning that devastating smile on my nephew, “What do you want, buddy? You can have anything. Steak? Crab? Pasta? Name it."
Leo's eyes went huge, like someone had just offered him the moon served on a silver platter. "Pizza?"
Sweet, innocent Leo, asking for the simplest thing on any menu, while this man could probably buy the entire restaurant.
Jax grinned, ruffling Leo's hair with affection that made my heart clench. "You got it, champ. And for you, princess?”
His gaze pinned me, expectant and patient, like he had all the time in the world to wait for my answer. The weight of his attention was almost physical, making me squirm in my chair like a butterfly under a microscope.
I swallowed hard, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. I wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure how to navigate this offer without drowning in the implications .
I’d never had food like what he was suggesting. Never even allowed myself to want it.
He was reading every micro-expression like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve.
Then something softer entered his blue gaze, as if he could see the war between pride and hunger playing out across my face. When he spoke again, his voice carried a protective edge.
"Pick for me, princess. Steak, salmon, or pasta? I'll order all three if you want to try them."
Princess.
The endearment washed over me again, sweet and warm and completely unexpected. No one had ever called me that before. No one had ever made me feel like I was worth that kind of tenderness.
No one had ever asked me what I wanted just because they wanted to give it to me.
I was so used to taking whatever was cheapest, whatever would stretch the farthest, whatever would leave more for Leo. The idea of picking something just because I wanted it felt foreign, impossible, and terrifyingly wonderful.
"Salmon," I said finally, the word strange and luxurious on my tongue. "I'll try the salmon."
Because salmon sounded like something princesses ate. Because he'd called me princess, and at least while he was here, I wanted to pretend it was true.
Jax's smile was satisfied, like I'd just passed a test I didn't know I was taking. The approval in his eyes sent warmth spiraling through me that had nothing to do with the kitchen's temperature.
"Good girl," he murmured, and my stomach fluttered like a cage full of butterflies had been set free in my chest.
Good girl. The praise hit me in places I didn't want to acknowledge, sent heat pooling between my thighs that made me shift uncomfortably in my chair. The way he said it, like I'd pleased him, like my choice mattered, made me feel drunk on possibilities I couldn't afford to consider .
He ordered enough food for a feast, his voice smooth authority as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line. Salmon, steak, pizza, vegetables, and a bottle of red wine.
"Yes, deliver to the address I texted you. I want it hot. And fast." The command in his voice sent another indecent thrill through me, and I had to press my thighs together to deal with the response my body was having to him.
He hung up and turned back to me, his smile lazy and confident, like he just solved world hunger instead of ordering dinner. "See? You just needed someone to take charge."
I bristled at the implication, even as part of me thrilled at the truth of it. It was strange to let someone else handle things for once, to not be the one making every decision, carrying every burden, solving every crisis.
But that kind of thinking was exactly how Giselle ended up dependent on the man who ultimately destroyed her.
He leaned in—elbows on the table, bringing his scent closer—expensive cologne that made me want to lean into him like a flower turning toward the sun. "You're used to doing everything yourself, aren't you?"
The observation was so accurate, so perceptive, cutting through my defenses like they were made of tissue paper. I stiffened, refusing to meet those knowing blue eyes. "Someone has to."
Because if I didn't, who would? If I didn't take care of Leo, if I didn't pay the bills, if I didn't fight the custody battle, who else would?
He reached out, his fingers brushing mine, the contact sending tingles up my arm. "Not tonight," he said, his voice soft but firm, carrying a promise that made my heart race. "Tonight, you let me take care of you. Both of you."
A shiver went down my spine. No one had ever said that to me before. No one had ever meant it. I was used to being the caretaker, the responsible one, the person everyone else leaned on.
The idea of having someone strong enough to take care of me was intoxicating and absolutely impossible .
But looking into those blue eyes, feeling the warmth of his fingers against mine, I wanted to believe it was possible. I wanted to pretend, just for tonight, that I was the kind of woman who deserved to be taken care of.
The kind of woman a man like Jax Easton might actually want to keep.