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After we eata delicious lunch prepared by Lucy, Blake takes me to the dining room. Looking over the framed photos on the wall, I am beside myself. The Edwards family is beyond stunning.
Debra seems to be more around his age, and she’s gorgeous. Crystal appears a little younger, and her features are practically identical to Jaxon’s. The resemblance between them all is uncanny.
Blake taps my shoulder. “Jaxon was a lot older when I was born,” she explains, pointing up to a picture. “That’s why he looks so old in some of these pictures with me as a baby.”
“I resent that,” he retorts, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you implying that I’m an old man?”
“Well, you’re not young,” she playfully replies. “You’re thirty-two!”
Our eyes meet, and he shrugs. “Apparently, I’m old.”
“Thirty-two? Hmm. Not so bad.”
He winks.
Blake grasps my arm. “How old are you, Sasha?”
“I’m twenty-five. He’s seven years older than me,” I quietly say, and his gaze lowers to my breasts. I want to smack him for checking me out in front of his little sister, but fortunately, she’s oblivious. “Kind of funny, right?”
“Yeah, it is.” She laughs, sporting an adorable smile. “I like you, Sasha.”
“I like her, too,” Jaxon purrs.
“You guys are so cute.” Blake backs away from us, and suspicion overtakes her small features. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t kissed yet, like Debby and Mark do.”
Shooting a nervous stare in his direction, he doesn’t look away from his sister for a second. He’s become unreadable, still, and way too calm. I for one, am raging with fear.
Lucy steps into the room, and our silence is loud. “Is everything all right in here?” she questions, alarmed.
Jaxon places his hand on the small of my back. “Everything’s fine.”
“Come on!” Blake urges. “Kiss her already.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Lucy sighs. “Don’t put your brother and Sasha on the spot like that. It’s quite rude.”
Blake drops her gaze to the floor, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Mom, that’s absurd. She doesn’t need to apologize,” Jaxon speaks up. “It’s a simple request.”
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I’m able to relax. Until suddenly, what he has just said registers in my brain. What could he possibly mean by that? He wants us to kiss? He’s okay with this?
No, we can’t. We can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.
Or, do I?
My mind never pondered this moment, not once, and now we are both put entirely on the spot. My face fills with heat. I can tell I’m beat red from the burning sensation beneath my skin. My body stiffens and my senses are heightened.
All I can feel is his hand on my back, and the knot growing in the pit of my stomach. The scent of his cologne washes over me, calming me. When his eyes meet mine, he appears guarded. Conflicted.
Dropping my gaze nervously to the floor, my head is recklessly spinning. My heart is pounding, and my palms are clammy. My knees have grown weaker by the second. This is the moment our no kissing on the mouth rule ends, and it’s unsettling.
I haven’t kissed a man in years.
Jaxon cups his hand against my face, lightly stroking my cheek with his thumb. It feels incredible to be touched like this by him. So sensual, intimate. He’s surely a great actor.
His eyes cautiously search mine as he leans closer, our lips inches apart. He hesitates. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for permission, or for me to push him away. To stop him.
