Page 84 of Sweet Surrender

I stiffen, more because Paul is the last person I want to talk about when I’m sitting here beside him versus his obvious change of subject.

But I’ll give him time. Trust is earned, not given, and for a man who’s in the public eye, no doubt everything he says is up for sale in most cases.

“Paul.” I sigh. “He seemed so well put together while I was all over the place. Worked at a big accounting firm while I was struggling to find my way. He was kind and flirty and made me feel seen when I’d never had that before. In hindsight, I realize that he was good at manipulating situations and controlling narratives so that ‘I’m sorry’ was a constant refrain on my lips even when I knew I’d done nothing wrong. He made me feel like I was never enough, you know? Like everything I did was somehow wrong. But I think that was part of his thing—if you make someone feel inferior, then they’re easier to manipulate and control.”

Jase’s jaw clenches. “He ever hurt you?”

I swallow. “Not physically. No. I’d never allow that.” I say the words but know damn well that emotional abuse can be just as damaging. But I’m working on that. On owning my mistakes, loving who I am, and how I’m not the inadequate woman Paul painted me out to be.

Jase leans forward, presses a kiss to my cheek, and whispers, “If he ever comes to the bakery again, you tell Sammy right away.” His voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it, something protective and sharp that makes my stomach flip for an entirely different reason. “He’ll make sure he’s removed promptly.”

I clear my throat and nod. “Okay. He won’t come back.” Then again, when he finds out that I’m married, he just might. “My turn.”

His lips twitch. “Hit me.”

“Why no girlfriends?”

He smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t do well with relationships.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I push people away. Always have.” His fingers drum against his thigh. “Being in the band . . . it’s chaotic. It’s loud. I got used to never really letting anyone in.”

I study him. “You let your bandmates in.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “But they’re stuck with me. Contractually.”

I roll my eyes. “So you’re saying I should’ve negotiated a better prenup?”

He smirks. “Might’ve been a good idea. You never know, I might try to take you for all you’re worth when we divorce.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Take away. You won’t get much.”

“Once you start selling your divorce cookies there will be.”

“What?”

“Divorce cookies. Breakup cookies. I don’t know. We celebrate everything else in life, why not home in on why you started in the first place? Help people celebrate cutting ties and moving on?”

“You have a point.” A very good point. Too bad they’d never sell.

“See I’m good for more than just sex.”

“Are you?” I murmur.

“Are you doubting me, Cookie?”

“I mean, I don’t have much to go off yet,” I tease. He clears the trash out of the way and pulls me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him.

My breath hitches. My heart races.

His eyes meet mine and arch up with the most mischievous gleam.

“Operation Live-A-Little?” I ask.

“No, this one’s called Jase-Needs-A-Lot.” And with that, his mouth crashes down onto mine.

His hands splay across my back, pulling me in against him and then hooking around my shoulders to hold me in place as he kisses me senselessly. Our breaths mingle as tightly as our bodies, but I’m all for drowning in his air.