Naomi
I’m two seconds from snapping—and not in a cute, oops, I lost my temper kind of way. I mean a full-on lose it, melt-the-paint-off-the-walls kind of explosion. It’s been a week of this mess, and I swear I have had enough.
Jaxon is always here. Silent as a shadow, eyes unblinking behind those wire-rimmed glasses, lurking exactly five measured steps behind me at all times.
His leather shoes tap a steady rhythm against the polished floor as he follows me like I'm some high-profile target and he's anticipating a sniper in the broom closet.
The weight of his presence prickles against my neck—almost comforting in its constancy if it wasn't so damn unsettling.
At least he maintains his distance, a careful bubble of space between us.
Kind of.
Mostly. When he’s not being an ass.
But Cade is a different flavor of annoyance altogether. He doesn't trail behind—he strides beside me. He moves, like we're co-stars in some glossy drama I never auditioned for. It’s as if the man wants to be besties—I’m sorry, sir. That position has been filled.
He comments on everything.
He adjusts his long-legged stride to match my hurried pace, our footsteps falling in perfect synchronization when really, I want to shove him into oncoming traffic. If my chest rises with anything deeper than a shallow breath, his eyebrows knit together, lips parting with an inevitable "You okay?"
No. I'm not okay. I'm suffocating under their watchful gazes. They treat me like I'm made of spun glass—seconds from shattering.
I catch their shared glances, the way their eyes sweep every room before I enter, cataloging exits and potential threats as if I haven't clawed my way through hell before and emerged with bloodied fingernails but still breathing.
I want to scream until my throat burns raw. Or vanish into thin air, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of my perfume.
Preferably both.
On the way from my office, I ask to stop at Mers, my fingers already itching for the warm cup between them. The only thing that will make this day better is tea—steaming, fragrant tea with honey melting into amber depths—yes, tea will make it better.
“One extra hot chamomile, with honey.” Kim has my order ready before I can even say hello. Jaxon beats me to it and snags it from Kim—who raises a brow— before he hands it to me.
“Thanks, Kim.” He says, ever the gentleman, throwing on an easy smile that disarms her. “May I have an Americano, a mango smoothie, and a croissant as well, please?”
May I have a croissant as well, please? What the fuck? It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes.
“Any milk in that?” She asks, tapping the register screen.
“No, I like it black.” He replies.
“Like his soul.” I quip, snapping the top off my tea and blowing the billowing steam. Kim chuckles as Jaxon pays with his black card, like the pretentious chauvinist that he is.
Tuning away, my eyes scan the café. It’s not too busy today.
A group of friends laugh—pointing at Jaxon and I—whispering and sneaking a few pictures, and I angle my body so that I don’t get caught in the shots.
A few other patrons are scattered across the main floor, some at regular tables, others at high tops or along the bar counter.
“Oh, come on.” He tucks his knuckles under my chin, startling me as he tilts my face up to look at him. “I’m not that bad.”
I guess I’ve awoken the beast, and he’s come out to play. I can see it in the way his pretty eyes sparkle with something rivaling mischief—but I will not be entertaining this today.
“Unhand me, Demon.” I say, swatting his hand away. Cade chuckles behind us as Jaxon cracks a smile.
He steps closer, forcing my back against the pastry display, his hands pressed to the glass on either side of me.
“You know deep down, I think you like me, Reina.”
I clutch my tea closer before it spills. “What did I say about calling me that?”
He smirks. “I can’t recall. Hard to remember when you prance around acting like you own the place, giving me orders.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Enterprises.” I roll my eyes, subtly turning my head in the direction of the girls from before—now, ferally snapping pictures like a pack of rabid hyenas.
“So, I like acquisitions,” he says.
“No, you like control,” I retort, gently shoving him away and ducking under his arm. “Let’s keep it professional, why don’t we, Mr. Knox? My day was going so well before you opened your mouth.”
Kim returns with Jaxon’s order, and I wave goodbye as I make my way out of the door, popping the lid back on and taking the first sip of my glorious tea—now the perfect temperature.
There is absolutely nothing better than that first sip, the warmth curling around every bone in my body like a warm hug. Nothing can ruin this moment—an involuntary smile stretching across my face—until Jaxon’s arm drops over my shoulder, his coffee cup in hand.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” I huff.
“You look far too content.” He says, his free hand shoving the pastry bag and smoothie at Cade as we walk past him, then bops me on the nose with his index finger.
I blink rapidly. “Did you just—"
My head snaps up, and I glare at him. “You are so pretty when you’re angry.” He says, lowering his face to mine until our lips almost touch.
Just perfect.
No matter how good it feels to be in his arms, I push him away, slowing my pace to fall into step with Cade.
Bestie it is today.
“How’s the croissant?” Golden buttered flaky crumbs cling to the corner of his mouth, catching the afternoon light, and I can't help but smile. “That good, huh? I don’t blame you. Mers is my favorite place.”
He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing as he chugs several sips of his smoothie and clearing his throat before he answers me. “Their pastries are the best, but this—” He shakes the mango drink. “—is my favorite.”
“Oh yeah? How long have you been coming to Mers?” I ask.
"Just started a couple weeks ago..." He trails off, eyes flicking toward Jaxon like a compass finding the north star, and it clicks—they've been tailing me even before this assignment began, tracking my routines, my habits, and my life.
“Sorry, boss.” Cade chimes. And I look at Jaxon. He merely shrugs, shoulders lifting with casual arrogance.
"For what? She hasn't noticed that people have been watching her for weeks.
All that does is prove exactly why she needs a.
.. how was it that you so eloquently put it, Reina?
" He snaps his long fingers as if trying to recall something, while unlocking the Escalade's doors with a beep that feels like mockery.
He tugs mine open before walking around to his own with predatory grace.
Something about that deepens my scowl, and I know it's the fact that he still acts like a gentleman even with that infuriating smug look on his perfect face.
"Ah, yes...babysitter." He continues, as we slip into our seats, fastening our seat belts in synchrony.
Cade shut my door before shoving himself into the back seat with a grunt, and that infuriates me more.
But I know my frustrations are not with him, so I don’t give him my fury.
My gaze narrows on Jaxon, who doesn't seem the least bit affected by it, his profile carved in stone as he starts the engine with a low purr.
I hate him.
The ride back to my house is blessedly quiet. I look out of the passenger side window, the sun high in the sky as we roll down palm tree-lined streets.
It’s incredible how drastically the scenery can change from place to place.
As we turn on the paved road that leads to my house, Jaxon breezes past my security.
Since this is now one of our registered cars, they let him pass with little more than a head nod. He pulls up to the four-car garage and parks outside next to my car.
When I hop out of the car, Jaxon shoots me a displeased look, and I know it's because I don't wait for one of them to open my door. As I make my way up the stone stairs, a giggle slips free. But I contain a full-on manic laugh before I unlock the front door.
“What’s so funny?" Jaxon asks.
“You are, Jaxon,” I purr, his name rolls off my tongue, dipped in honey as I stop on the grand stairs. The switch is quick, but I have to get out of here, by any means necessary, or I’ll go insane.. So flirting it is.
The look on his face is better than what I had hoped for.
His eyes darken, something sinister flashing through them as he stops on the stair below mine.
I pull him close with a firm grip on his tie.
My gaze shifts to Cade, wordless, telling him to go away.
The other bodyguard closes his mouth, stumbling over his feet as he disappears into the kitchen.
My attention slides back to Jaxon, whose heart beats erratically when I place my palm against his chest.
“How so, Ms. Blaine?” He remains professional, but his resolve is not the fortress he believes it to be.
“I thought you didn’t want us to be so formal.” I let my eyes fall on his lips, then flick my eyes up to his.
“I thought you did.” His eyes dilate every time he looks at me. Sometimes it unnerves me, but sometimes I’m too pissed to care. Today is one of the latter, so I’m going to use it to my advantage.
I push up on my toes, tugging his tie again to bring his ear to my lips. “I’m going to go upstairs and run a bath. Do you know what I’ll be thinking about the whole time?”
“What?” He swallows audibly, his breath ghosting over my cheek on a whispered exhale.
I let the silk tie slip through my fingers, backing away slowly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I say, giving him a sly grin over my shoulder as I turn to walk up the stairs. “See ya later, Mr. Knox...”
As I go, I make sure to sway my hips, slow and deliberate, just to mess with him all the more. I feel his eyes burning into me, but I don’t look back.