Chapter 3 #2
“I think it's too early for us to be talking about rings, sweetie,” I replied, my nails biting lightly into Jaxon’s side where she couldn’t see.
He chuckled. “Never too early to plan these things.”
Lori’s eyes flicked between us, trying to read whatever energy hung in the air, but Jaxon made it impossible for her to find her footing. He looked utterly at ease—like this was his stage and we were all just extras in his scene.
“Well,” Lori said finally, recovering her composure, “you two seem… happy.”
“Ecstatic,” I said, voice tight.
My breathing caught when Jaxon's finger tugged my chin up to look at him.
“Completely,” Jaxon echoed, grinning like the devil. He held my gaze as he said, “If you’ll excuse us, Lori, I need to steal my woman for a second.”
He didn’t wait for her response—just tightened his arm around my waist and guided me across the room, toward the champagne fountain glittering under fairy lights.
The moment we were out of her view, I exhaled slowly, stepping out of Jaxon’s hold.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Only a little.” He stopped beside the fountain, turning to face me, that infuriating smirk still in place. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For saving you from your cousin’s interrogation. You’re supposed to look grateful, not homicidal.”
I took a steadying breath, my expression locked into something between polite fury and forced charm. “You’re twenty minutes late, Jaxon.”
“It takes time to look this good,” he murmured, gesturing to himself.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You could’ve been half as goodlooking and twice as punctual.”
“Come on, Bookie,” he teased, his grin infuriatingly familiar. “You’ve got to admit, I’m good under pressure.”
“Don’t call me that,” I hissed. “And while we're on the subject of things not to call me, add babe to the list.”
His eyes twinkled as he brought the champagne glass to his lips. “Noted.”
My gaze floated around the room, taking note of who was here and who wasn't. Majority of the attendees so far were from Chase's side of the family, but there were also business partners, board members from the Sinclair Group, and politicians—which explained the reporters from The Westfort Globe. The room was swimming in billionaires.
I was surprised to see Adrian Maddox, though. The billionaire was known for avoiding parties like this—I knew that much from Chase constantly complaining about connecting with the man.
Fingers brushed a strand of hair from my shoulder, grazing the bare skin of my neck. I jumped out of surprise, despite the delicious shiver that crawled through me.
“Where did your mind wander off to?” His tone was teasing, but when he spoke again, it dropped lower. “You need to stop tensing every time I touch you. People are watching. If we’re going to sell this, you’ve got to loosen up a little.”
He was right behind me now, his lips dangerously close to the crook of my neck. My fingers tightened around my champagne glass and my pulse quickened.
“Relax,” he whispered, a half-smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“I'm perfectly relaxed.”
His chuckle brought goosebumps to my skin. “You know that in order for this to work, we have to look like an actual couple, right? With me, that involves touching… a lot.”
“That doesn't need to mean you breathing down my neck. Or PDA of any kind. Rules we would have gone over if you were on time.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest like he'd done this a thousand times before. Why was this so effortless for him? The heat of his touch burned through the thin fabric of my dress, and I had to resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
“I'm almost sure I'll hate those rules of yours, but by all means, let's discuss over drinks later.”
“Uh, no. We will discuss them tomorrow, at breakfast, where you will be early.”
“Beautiful, the only way I'm getting up early enough for breakfast would be if you're already in my—”
“Do not finish that thought,” I snapped, spinning around in his arms. My eyes narrowed at the mischief in his eyes and the smirk on his lips.
“I was only going to say house. Honestly, what kind of man do you take me for?”
I glowered.
“Back to that you-have-to-look-like-you-like-me thought. Right now, you're stuck between wanting to shove me away and cut my balls off. Tone down the glaring and give me a nice smile. That's it, there we go. Beautiful.”
My smile was wide, but I made sure he saw the fire in my eyes. Fire promised retribution later. His gaze flickered behind me before his hands tightened around my waist. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my shoulder again, the scent of smoke and clean soap brushing against me.
“And I suspect the man staring daggers at me is the ex?”
My pulse quickened. “What?”
He pulled back, looking smugly at me. “Looks like our little performance is paying off.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
He nodded subtly toward the bar. “There’s an idiot over there who hasn’t stopped glaring at me since I put my hands on you.”
I followed his gaze, and my heart stuttered. Chase.
Standing by the bar, jaw tight, drink forgotten in his hand.
Jaxon leaned back, the corner of his mouth lifting in satisfaction. “Told you,” he murmured. “Working like a charm.”