Danny’s jaw worked and his nostrils flared as though Jackson’s words smelled just as bad as they cut. “Nah,” he said. “But I’ll tell you what will.”
Vanessa held her breath as she watched Danny lean in to speak next to Jackson’s ear. Danny’s lips barely moved and he was too quiet for her to know what he said. Though he held perfectly still, every muscle in Jax’s body gripped his bones that much harder and his hands curled into tight fists as the kid pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face. As he backed up, Danny went so far as to laugh, confident that whatever he’d said to Jackson had gotten the better of him.
A deadly look—the look she hated more than anything and had the power to stir up the dust in her memory and a sickness in her gut—sparked to life in Jackson’s eyes. Normally warm and inviting like a good whiskey on a cold night, his eyes now made her cringe and want to crawl inside herself.
Fighting as a sport was one thing, but fighting out of anger was another entirely, and something she couldn’t abide. Somehow she found her voice for a last-ditch effort at saving her perception of this man who had her turned inside out in only a few days. “Jackson, no, don’t do it! Please!”
Either he couldn’t hear her through the blood roaring in his ears or he chose to ignore her because a second later he threw a punch so fierce Danny’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he crumpled to the mat, a boneless version of his former self.
The coach, who’d left the cage after the sparring match ended, now charged back in, putting himself between a still-furious Jackson and the unconscious man. Corey and another fighter grabbed Jax by the arms and dragged him out of the cage, talking him down from the rage that still held him in its clutches.
As the world sped back up into real time around her, Vanessa spun toward the exit and walked as fast as she could until she at last punched through the double doors.
The heat of the early afternoon pressed in on her like a weight, bearing down on her chest and shoulders until her legs shook and she finally sought relief on the grass off to the side of the entrance.
She schooled herself to take deep, meditative breaths and regain control of her body. Soon she felt back to herself, but she still wasn’t about to go back into the gym. The guys probably thought she couldn’t handle a little blood, which couldn’t be further from the truth. It hadn’t been the blood that upset her but what came after it.
When she moved out of her mother’s house, Vanessa swore she would never involve herself with anyone who settled things with his fists. And even though this thing with Jackson was only a fling, it still bothered her to know he’d reacted the way he did.
Which rankled her even more. Why did it matter how he handled himself in a confrontational situation? It wasn’t like she was sizing him up for a potential relationship. She just wanted to bang his brains out for a few days—three, to be exact—and then go on her merry little way. It didn’t matter to her how many guys he knocked out outside of the cage. Right? Right.
The sound of the doors opening behind her had her glancing over her shoulder. Jackson strode toward her in his long, easy gait, so uncharacteristic of the intense man from minutes before. When he reached her, he lowered to his haunches, elbows resting on his knees and hands dangling between his legs.
“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
Though he still wore the hand wraps, his gloves were gone and his face and body were cleaned of any blood. Only his slightly swollen cheek and the two butterfly bandages holding the incised flesh together showed any sign that he’d been struck.
She almost reached out to touch it, to test its severity or offer him comfort. But she stopped the impulse by grabbing a fistful of grass and shredding it to pieces instead.
She lifted her chin. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He canted his head and studied her for a moment. “I don’t know. You left pretty quickly after I KOed Akana in there.”
“What did he say to you?”
Jax’s eyes hardened and the muscle in his jaw ticked. “Nothing worth repeating.”
An insult, then. Whether to her or him, it didn’t really matter. She nodded and looked down at the blade of grass she’d rent in two.
“V, I’m sorry. Once my head cleared, I realized you’d tried to stop me.”
She didn’t say anything at first, but when it seemed he was waiting on some sort of explanation, she said, “And?”
“And although I know a lot of women hate violence in general…” He paused to run a hand over the back of his neck before exhaling and wincing up at her from under his lashes. “I’m kind of thinking maybe I broke a rule.”
That took her aback. Either he suspected that everything he did or said broke one of her Rules, or he was tuning in to her in a way that allowed him to differentiate between trivial reactions and meaningful ones.
She sincerely hoped it was the former, for her sanity’s sake. Or my heart’s sake.
“Have I, V?” he asked more gently.
She sighed and looked away from those intense eyes of gold and focused on the safe vibrant pink hibiscus flowers lining the parking lot. “I know you think I’m crazy—that my Rules are crazy—but I have them for a reason. And yes, you broke one.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He paused, then added, “A little high-strung, maybe.”
She whipped her head around, ready to retaliate, but his crooked grin told her he was merely trying to get a rise out of her. It should piss her off—or at the very least annoy her—but that little hitch in the corner of his mouth was like a Vanessa MacGregor bomb diffuser.
“So what are the reasons you have the rules?”
Oh, hell no. Talk about opening a can of worms. Except this was more like a can of snakes. Of the poisonous variety. “No offense, but I rarely tell people I even have them. Why I have them is definitely not a topic open for discussion.”
He seemed to think on that for a while. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say he was probably weighing his options for arguing the point. At last he conceded. “Then tell me which one I broke.”
“Rule #4: Never date a man who chooses fists over words.” He raised a questioning brow. “Believe me, the irony of you fighting for a living isn’t lost on me. Obviously the rule doesn’t apply to fights involved in your career, but that’s not what that was in there.”
He inclined his head. “Agreed.”
“But then again,” she said, meeting his gaze again, “since we’ve agreed we won’t be dating—now or ever—I guess you technically didn’t break anything.”
Vanessa stood and brushed the grass from her shorts. “Go hit the showers so we’re not late meeting Robért. I’ll wait for you in the car.”
…
The Mahina Lounge was empty except for the bustling waitstaff snapping crisp linens, placing pristine china and silverware, and arranging the freshly cut hibiscus centerpieces onto the dining tables of various sizes. Jackson sat at one of the four-tops in the back, close to the kitchen, waiting for Robért to emerge.
He didn’t like the idea of choosing his sister’s wedding cake for her, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. This whole mixed-up-identity situation was sprouting legs and soon it’d be running out of control if they couldn’t figure a way to rein it in.
Looking across the room, Jax studied Vanessa as she spoke to Lucie on the phone. Trying to get an idea of what she wants, he guessed. V stood with her back to him. Yet another sign she was shutting him out since the incident at the gym. On the ride back to the Mau Loa she’d been quiet and stiff in her seat. With back straight and hands folded in her lap, she looked every bit the professional attorney sitting in court, as opposed to the carefree girl who’d sang to the radio as her bare feet tapped out the beat on his dash earlier that morning.
Fucking Akana. Jax wasn’t sorry he’d decked the kid—he deserved it for the shit he’d said just low enough for Jackson to hear—but after seeing Vanessa’s reaction, he was sorry he?
??d done it in front of her. When he’d turned around to see her leaving the gym, his stomach had dropped. He tried running after her, but Corey had strong-armed him into a chair so Frank could butterfly his cheek. Once all the blood was cleaned off him he went in search of her, and seeing the look on her face—one that looked a lot like disappointment—had almost stopped him in his tracks.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been disappointed in him other than himself. He’d forgotten how much letting someone down burned like acid in the center of his chest.
Vanessa was turning out to be a puzzle he couldn’t solve. If he’d read her right, then for her to be disappointed in him would mean she cared for him on some level. At least a little more than one generally cares for her best friend’s brother whom she barely knew. But that didn’t add up with the calculating woman who made him agree to formal stipulations regarding their sexual relationship.
For probably the fiftieth time since he met her, he wondered what prompted her to make the rules in the first place. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than just a woman scorned by a few ex-boyfriends.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed it, glanced at the caller ID, and answered. “What’s the word, man? How’s Lucie?”
“She was feeling better until Vanessa spilled about your little role-playing fiasco down there.” Shit. Reid sounded like he wanted to use him as a punching bag. “What the hell is going on, Jax?”
“Look, this isn’t exactly anything I planned, all right? It started out as something I said just to get under her skin. Or maybe it wasn’t, I don’t know. I meant to tell her the truth, but then the planner got involved and it all went to hell.”
“So what happens when we show up at the end of the week? Because I’m sure as hell not pretending to be you while you get hitched to Vanessa.”
“Whoa! Chill out, okay? The only people getting hitched this weekend are you and my sister.” Jax glanced over to where it looked like Vanessa was finishing up her phone call. There were a lot of hand gestures that, if Lucie could see them, would probably reassure her Vanessa had everything under control. Now he had to convince his best friend of the same thing. Whether Jackson believed it or not.
Scratch that. He had to believe it. Because one way or another, he wasn’t going to let anyone—including a pissed-off not-quite-French wedding coordinator—stop his baby sister from having the wedding of her dreams.
Across the room, V ended her call and started walking toward him just as Robért pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen with a rolling cart. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. You just get my sister healthy so she can travel and marry your punk ass. Gotta go.”
“Jackso—”
Jax tapped the end button and put his phone away just before Vanessa sat in the chair to his right. She kept her attention on Robért setting out a silver tray of mini cakes and small bowls of filling.
He hated that she refused to look at him. Hated that he’d upset her.
Without thinking about it, he gently lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the delicate skin above her knuckles. He didn’t hear it, but rather saw the breath catch in her throat as her eyes flicked to his. Within their depths he saw the barest glimmer of desire beneath the uncertainty.
“Oh, look how sweet!” Robért exclaimed. “I swear, you are just the loveliest couple. You still act like new lovers. So refreshing!”
Vanessa snatched her hand back and gave the man a nervous smile. “So, what do you have for us, Robért? I’m anxious to figure out the cake.”
“Of course, of course! Let’s get down to the hard work of cake tasting, shall we? Then you two can go back to the room and work off those extra calories, if you know what I mean.”
Jax peeked over at Vanessa, who turned bright red and took a sip of her ice water as Robért busied himself with presenting the first cake.
“O-kay, here we go. The first cake is a vanilla cream. It’s light with a delicate vanilla flavor, the most popular cake we have, and of course can be paired with any of our specialty fillings. Popular choices are pineapple curd, guava buttercream, and white chocolate cream cheese. Go ahead, dig in.”
They each sliced off a piece with the edge of their forks. Being a glutton for punishment, Jax watched as Vanessa placed the cake in her mouth and slid the utensil back out. Torrid images—the sort he definitely didn’t need right now—flooded his mind. Giving his dick a command to heel, he focused on tasting the cake he’d put in his own mouth. It was just as Robért described.
“Well?”
Jax looked over at their host and lifted an eyebrow in question.
“What do you think? You can’t taste the cake and not say anything. You need to tell me if you like it, if you don’t like it…”
“Oh,” Jax said, clearing his throat before taking a sip of his water. “I like it a lot, but it’s a little on the plain side. Don’t you think, babe?”
Vanessa didn’t look at him when she responded. “I agree. I like it, but I think she—uh, I want something a little less common.”
Robért clasped his hands to his chest and said, “I couldn’t agree more. Next cake!”
He took another sample from the tray and placed it before them.
“Now, this is a chocolate butter cake. It’s used in our chocolate decadence and mocha macadamia cakes.”
Vanessa was busy taking another drink of her water when Jax cut a small piece of the cake onto his fork. Instead of taking it himself, he turned it to her and waited expectantly. Her eyes flicked to the cake. Then up at him. Back to the cake.
Whether she was uncomfortable with acting like a couple in front of Robért or it was something else, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t back down. He hated that she’d shut him out. He missed seeing the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him. So if he had to force her to acknowledge him, then that’s what he’d do.
Finally, she leaned forward and took the offered cake as she held his gaze. Absolutely stunning. As she pulled back, he again watched as her lips dragged on the metal tines, and he swore the temperature in the room kicked up at least a dozen degrees. Holy hell.
“Mmm. That’s really good,” she said. “What kind of fillings would be used for this?”
“Ah!” Robért placed two of the small bowls next to the plate of cake. Pointing to the first bowl, he said, “The chocolate macadamia is filled with chocolate ganache, coffee buttercream, and crushed macadamia nut brittle. Very unordinary. And the chocolate decadence is paired with a classic combo of chocolate ganache and rich raspberry.”
This time she made sure she was on point with dipping her own spoon in the creamy ganache so Jax didn’t have the opportunity to feed her again. For posterity’s sake, he did the same and tasted the filling, but he couldn’t have told Robért if it tasted like coconuts or dirt. His focus was on Vanessa.
When she pulled her spoon out of her mouth, a bit of frosting remained on the corner of her lower lip. Reaching out, he used his thumb to clean it off. Again, she seemed to stop breathing for a second. But this time when their eyes met, the desire that had been pushed to the back now shined through.
It took everything Jax had to not tell Robért to pick the damn cake himself and haul her off to their room.
They tasted a few other combinations and ultimately decided on a light coconut cake with haupia coconut custard filling and Italian buttercream icing. Even if Jax hadn’t known Lucie had an affinity for coconut, he’d have known Vanessa made the choice based on Lucie’s likes and not her own. Based on subtle hints he’d picked up on, he was pretty sure that not only was the chocolate decadence her favorite, but that fruit with chocolate in general was something she enjoyed. He made a mental note.
“Thank you so much, Robért,” Vanessa said as she stood. “Please tell the chef they were all wonderful. I appreciate it very much.”
“It was our pleasure, believe me. Now go have some fun and I’ll see you soon!”
Jax rose
as well, waited for their hug and double air-kiss to be over, shook Robért’s hand, then started to escort V out of the restaurant.
“Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot!” They turned around to see a distressed Robért following after them. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Vanessa gave Jax a concerned look. “What is it?”
“I heard from my friend this morning and he can’t cover the other wedding for me. Something about a last minute vow renewal he got roped into. I’m so sorry, can you forgive me? I wanted to be there so badly.”
Palpable relief relaxed Vanessa’s shoulders as she released a long exhale. Thankfully, to Robért it would just appear as disappointment. “Please don’t give it another thought, Robért. We completely understand, don’t we, Reid?”
Cue terrible acting. “Oh, yeah,” Jax added. “Completely. Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right?” Don’t ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean. It was all he could come up with on short notice.
The other two people in the conversation stared him blankly for a few seconds before simultaneously deciding to ignore him and move on with their emotional back and forth. Eventually they wrapped things up and they gave leaving another shot.
They’d no sooner hit the path outside when her cell rang. Sounded like a client, and based on her half of the conversation, she was gearing up for a long night of work.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he followed after her and smiled to himself. There was no way he’d let her ignore him the rest of the night. Time to formulate a plan.
…
Vanessa stared at the file in her lap and chewed on the end of her pen. It had been a bad habit growing up. All of her pens and pencils looked like rats had gnawed on them. Once she became an attorney, she’d managed to break herself of it. The last thing she wanted was for the opposing counsel to see her chewing on her writing utensils and thinking she was nervous or incompetent.
But here she was, a half hour into working, and the top of her pen looked like a beaver attacked it. Damn it.
The bathroom door opened. She discreetly peered up through her lashes…and then wished she hadn’t.