Chapter 18
Savannah
By the time the first round of mimosas came, my cheeks were aching from smiling and my fingers were clenched tight into fists under the table.
Just breathe, I reminded myself as I took in the ambiance of the pastel-drenched café.
Maribella's was one of the brunch spots downtown, with pink, flower-print wallpaper, gold-trimmed mirrors, and an aggressive commitment to charm.
Sunlight poured through tall windows, bouncing off crystal glasses and polished marble.
It was the perfect spot for Lori to have her perfect bridal brunch.
And it was torture for me.
I sat at a long table with Lori’s bridesmaids and friends—women who laughed too loudly and shared the same goal of reminding me that Chase chose my cousin every chance they got. Lori sat at the center, basking in the compliments and blows to my character.
I wondered if she would look so victorious if she knew what Chase said to me at their little gift opening ceremony.
“And then the planner confirmed the florals,” she gushed. “We’re going full garden fantasy. And the pictures she showed me of the progress? Sensational. It’s going to be magical.”
“It already sounds magical,” one of her friends sighed.
I didn't care to remember any of their names. They were just as bad as Lori was.
“I just can’t believe I finally found my forever,” Lori said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I mean, not without some complications.”
The table erupted in giggles, and some threw sly glances my way.
“Worth it,” another woman said, sweeping her brunette hair out the way, then turned to me with a sweet, apologetic smile. “No offense, Savannah. It just… wasn’t meant to be for you.”
Laughter rippled around the table.
Another woman tilted her head. “You never even acted like you wanted Chase. You were always so… reserved.”
“Exactly,” someone else chimed in. “It never looked like you were that into him. Someone like him, especially with his family fortune, needs to be cherished.”
Their words stung, but I didn’t flinch.
I forced a laugh. “Right.”
It felt like swallowing glass.
I lifted my mimosa and took a slow sip, letting the bubbles burn on the way down while they pivoted seamlessly back to wedding plans, seating charts, color palettes, honeymoon fantasies.
“We’re going to the Bahamas,” Lori announced. “Straight after the reception. Omg, I can't wait! Imagine—weeks alone with my husband, completely uninterrupted.” She turned to me with a smile sharpened to a blade. “Isn’t that where you wanted to go?”
I returned a thin, impeccable smile. “That was a long time ago, Lori. Dreams change. You should enjoy it, though.”
“Oh, she will,” the brunette giggled. “And Chase definitely will. Didn’t he say his sex life has gotten much better lately?”
More laughter.
The same woman looked at me with mock concern. “You do know how sex works, right?”
The table erupted.
Lori waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not her fault. She always loved her books more than Chase. Besides, without their little fling, I wouldn't have met the love of my life.”
Their chorus of awwws became background noise, and I tried to shove away the rushing flood of anger. Little fling?
I reached for my phone under the table.
SAVANNAH
Kill me now
JAXON
I would, but then who would bring trouble into my life?
Brunch not going well?
SAVANNAH
Definition of hell on earth. Should’ve stayed in bed.
JAXON
How about I bring you to my bed and cheer you up?
SAVANNAH
In your dreams
JAXON
Damn right
The corner of my mouth twitched as the conversation around me shifted to wedding dresses and lingerie—as if I needed another mental image of them doing each other. I took another long sip of the mimosa and glanced away.
“Make sure it’s lace,” someone said. “Easy to tear.”
“Oh, he'd be an animal if he saw you in red.”
“Or black. Everything looks sexier in black.”
Giggles bloomed again.
Black lingerie. I squirmed in my chair and my skin heated at the memory of that photo. His words still brought a wave of heat to my skin, almost too familiar at that point. I needed to remember how much I hated that man, but he was making it very difficult.
Especially after hearing about his little sister.
Now, instead of a hard brick wall, I was staring at opened cracks and Jaxon Cage on the other side.
God, what's wrong with me?
I took another sip of my drink, ignoring the chatter around me, and the door chimed behind me. My eyes drifted to Lori, watching her animatedly talk about another important detail of this wedding. Pride shone in her eyes when she glanced my way, that charming smile spreading across her lips.
Her lips parted, no doubt to say something mocking again, but her smile faltered and a flicker of shock tainted the pride in her eyes. The laughter around the table quieted. I raised a brow, about to turn around when I felt a soft kiss on the crown of my head.
My brows creased in confusion at the sudden warmth at my back, when I caught a whiff of a familiar leather and cedar scent. Jaxon. My shoulders relaxed when his lips moved to my ear.
“Hi, trouble,” he murmured.
My pulse stuttered. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was in the neighborhood.” His arms came around me, and suddenly, a bouquet of white roses filled my vision. “I wanted to surprise you.”
The table watched.
Every single one of them.
“Last night was really good,” he said, leaning in further. My eyes finally left the roses to meet his, and I noticed when his gaze dipped to my lips. Then there was a smirk on his lips when he added, “Loved that thing you did with your tongue.”
The table went still and my cheeks burned.
“Jaxon—”
My protest was swallowed up when he pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t rushed; it wasn't shy. It was sweet in the most ravaging sort of way. There was no hesitation when he moved his lips against mine, and that confidence alone sent a throbbing between my thighs.
The room disappeared.
For one breathless second, all I could feel was him—his hand on the back of my neck, his mouth warm against mine, the quiet promise in the way he held me like he meant it.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine. I could already feel every pair of eyes burning holes through us.
God help me.
He had just turned brunch into a battlefield.
Someone cleared their throat, and the grip Jaxon had on my neck softened.
“Apologies, ladies. I can't keep my hands to myself when it comes to her.” He straightened and winked at the women gawking at him. Then his eyes locked on mine again as he asked, “Mind if I steal her away for a bit?”
I was sure somewhere deep inside, he thought it was a question. But the way he said it didn't translate that way.
He laid the bouquet on the table before linking my fingers with his, and the next thing I knew, I was being led to the washrooms, and he shut the door behind him.
The bathroom felt smaller with him in it. He leaned back against the locked door with his arms crossed like he owned the exit, while I braced myself against the marble counter, pretending my pulse wasn't racing.
We stared at each other for a beat too long.
“What are you doing here?” I finally asked.
“Do I need a reason to see my girl?”
I rolled my eyes at the teasing tone and the smirk on his face. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Last night, you said you were dreading this brunch.”
The words landed warmer than they had any right to.
My expression softened before I could stop it, something fragile flickering across my face. I hated how easily he could do that—how easily he could make me feel seen.
His gaze dipped to my lips.
I moistened them, then deflected, “Didn’t you have a client this morning?”
“Maddox canceled,” he said with a shrug.
“Freed up my schedule.” Then, rolling his eyes with a faint grin, “And I needed a break from the studio. Ari’s been bouncing off the walls because Skai’s coming today.”
I laughed softly. “He’s fangirling way too hard.”
“Tell me about it.”
A pause.
“Wait, Maddox?” I asked. “As in Adrian Maddox?”
“Not this time,” he said. “One of his younger brothers.”
I blinked, impressed despite myself. “You tattoo the Maddox family?”
“When they're not busy making money,” he admitted lightly, chuckling.
Silence settled again and I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth again, making me shuffle on my feet.
My gaze narrowed. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“You know what.” Before he could tease me further, I changed the subject. “Remember that the rehearsal dinner is tonight at the Carrion Hotel. Six o’clock.”
My gaze drifted to his wrist where the black watch shone under the light.
I smiled slightly. “Better use that thing to keep showing up on time.”
He chuckled and murmured something under his breath. Then he pushed off the door, stepping toward me, his heated eyes never leaving mine.
My stomach fluttered.
I lifted a hand instinctively. “We should probably get back out there.”
“I need to kiss you.”
Goosebumps broke out across my arms and I blinked rapidly. I licked my lips, fighting the urge to tug him closer to me. His gaze darkened and I swallowed rather loudly. “Don't.”
I really need to get out of here.
Pushing off the counter, I made to move past him, but his hand landed gently against my stomach, stopping me cold. Butterflies erupted, and I looked down at the palm splayed across my stomach then up at him, breath hitching.
“Jaxon.”
“We’re supposed to look like we’ve been getting all hot and bothered in here. Wouldn't want to fail at playing the part, now, would we?”
Before I could answer, he backed me lightly toward the door, brushing a kiss to my cheek—then trailing lower, along the line of my jaw, hovering at my neck. My palms ended up pressed against his chest—his very hard chest.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “Jaxon.”
He inhaled slowly, like he was memorizing me.