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My chin lifts defiantly. “Yes,” I say. “He’s my brother. If I want to threaten him, that’s my prerogative.” Jax grins and shakes his head, before continuing with his conversation.
When he finally puts away his phone, my brother returns my message:Freddy? Really, sis? You know just how to go for a guy’s balls. I promise not to disappoint you. Trust me. You used to.
The driver pulls up to the restaurant, and I shove my cell into my purse, choosing to just let the contract stuff go for the moment. To prove my point, I focus on the good stuff. “You’ll love the muffins,” I declare. “They’re delicious.”
Jax leans in close, near my ear, and murmurs, “I’d rather eat you.” He straightens with a grin and adds, “But I’ll settle for muffins for now.”
Heat burns low in my belly at his easy flirtation, but I play it cool. I also play the shocked schoolgirl quite well, I think. “You’re dirty, sir,” I say primly.
He laughs, and his laugh, all low and sultry, does nothing to cool my now heated skin. “And you like it,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. Savage chooses that moment to open the back door, a chilly breeze kissed with salt rushes over me.
Eager to escape said breeze, I scoot across the seat, or I try to. Jax catches my arm. “Just so you know, he held his private plane for me to be able to get to you. He then detoured to San Francisco and I’m pretty sure at the expense of dealing with his own business crisis. On top of that, Eric’s an ex-SEAL who was ready to fight if that’s what it took to save you.”
Emotion pings my chest, both with this show of generosity and what I know was Jax’s urgency, even desperation, to rescue me. “I’m eager to thank them both,” I say, already contemplating a thoughtful gift for each and hoping for ideas over lunch.
“I knew you would be,” he says, releasing my arm, and this time, when I scoot across the seat, he allows me to exit the vehicle, quickly joining me. The wind is practically gusty today, as it often can be in San Francisco, and I huddle into my new black jacket, thankful for my warm turtleneck that won’t let the air torture my skin.
Jax exchanges a few words with Savage and then curls his arm around me, ushering me toward the door. A few seconds later, we’re escorted to the table where Grayson and Eric await, both men standing to greet us. Both men are wearing jeans and Bennett Enterprises collared shirts. “Thank God, you’re okay Emma,” Grayson greets me from across the table, his dark wavy hair a bit unruly and somehow this only makes the warmth in his eyes all the more friendly. Billionaires, in my experience, are rarely so easily approachable, especially good-looking billionaires like Grayson Bennett.
“We were ready to call in the cavalry,” Eric adds as we all sit down. “And Jax here was losing his mind.”
“I can’t thank either of you enough for all you did,” I respond quickly, grateful for their help and the coffee a waitress automatically pours in my cup, a perk of being a regular. “Especially since I wasn’t exactly kind to you, Eric.”
Eric eyes me over the rim of his cup. “You were defending your family. I like that in a person.” He sips and adds, “If the family deserves it.”
If he hopes to stir defensiveness in me, he’s likely disappointed because my reply is, “They definitely need to deserve it.”
Jax pours cream in my coffee, and then his, that intimate understanding of each other’s ways represents stirring a sense of belonging with him in me that I find equals happiness. He makes me happy. “We met with Chance last night,” Jax offers. “It was not what I expected, but in a good way.”
“He turned down the deal Eric offered him,” Grayson comments.
Jax sips his coffee. “He knew I was behind it, which I suppose we all should have expected. He’s sharper than I realized.”
I elbow him. “He’s a smart man.”
Jax laughs. “I know that, baby.”
Grayson seizes the door I’ve just opened and asks, “But is he honest?”
Despite my text threat to Chance, I don’t even hesitate in my reply. “Yes. In fact, he wants to merge with your brand because of you, Grayson. Because he wants that moral high ground. He wants to be a part of something bigger and better.”
Eric arches a brow and looks at Jax. “How do you feel about that claim?” he asks.
“After last night,” Jax says, “I believe him.”
“I do, too,” I say, “but he’s inherited a lot of my father’s bad business. He promised me that he’d talk to you about that problem with full disclosure. If he doesn’t—”
“He did,” Eric says, quickly thanking the waitress for a coffee refill, before he adds, “Or he plans to. He called me this morning and we spoke briefly. We’re meeting before I leave town, but he made it clear that was the hot topic on the agenda.”
Relief, that I hate that I feel, washes over me. My reaction and my text this morning tell a story. Some part of me still doesn’t fully trust Chance, but he’s done much to deserve my mistrust.
“Where do you see yourself in the merger, Emma?” Grayson asks.
My gaze catches Jax’s, that same question burning in his stare. My lips curve with a smile as I say, “In Maine,” and then with a small laugh I add, “Trying to learn how to finish a glass of whiskey and still stand up straight.”
The table erupts in laughter while Jax’s fingers lace with mine, intimate and right in every way; his silent approval for my answer is all that matters. I’m going home. With him.
Chapter one hundred twenty-five
