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I believe he means that. I believe he’d lose his mind if someone grabbed me again. I also believe that my odds of waking up safe and sound in my own bed, a second time, would be next to zero.
***
A few minutes later, we’re in a Walker driven SUV headed to the brunch location that I’d suggested last night when Jax setup our meeting with Eric and Grayson when Jax’s phone buzzes with a text. He glances at the message and then me. “Good news,” he says, and I hang on those words “good news.” I need some good news. “My attorney arranged for an attorney here to handle the contract signing with your brother.” He adds, “We’re a go for one o’clock today.”
His version of good news and mine are not the same because an opportunity for him to be screwed out of his namesake is not good news. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He strokes hair behind my ear. “Yes.” He kisses me and punches a number on his phone. “I’m calling Chance.”
I sigh and fold my arms in front of me, listening as he and Chance coordinate the meeting details. I, in turn, text my brother: Do not burn Jax, or I will go Freddy Kruger on you. An important horror reference because, as kids, he was terrified of Freddy. Based on his response to Freddy Halloween masks, I’m fairly certain he still is.
Jax lowers his phone and twists his head to look at me. “Are you text threatening your brother right this minute?”
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 school girl 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.”
