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Turned out he had to be drunk to find me attractive. Of course, it did.
“Marry me,” he repeated, making my knees a little wobbly. My heart fluttered inside my chest. I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
“Marry you?” I repeated breathily. I couldn’t help it. He’d been the only man I had ever found myself drawn toward.
I’d dated in the past, and I wasn’t a virgin, but something about Jax was different. It wasn’t just sexual; it was more than that. And if he hadn’t been drinking, I would have said yes without a second thought.
Even with all his crazy talk about press.
“Yeah, you marry me… for a year max. Do that for me, and I’ll get you your bakery. Anywhere you want it.” I opened and shut my mouth.
I lived where I did because my grandmother on my mom’s side had left me the house when she passed away. It was in a semi-nice area of Vegas. It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t sketchy like some other spots.
But had I not inherited the townhome, there was no way I could afford it.
Not with my student loans and what I made at the bar and other side hustles I worked. I knew this.
Jax was a mechanic.
He drove an old beat-up truck and lived simply. He wore black tee shirts and jeans like it was his own superhero uniform. He obviously knew how to manage his money, but I doubtedthe guy had the half a million dollars I would need to get my bakery going in the way I wanted. He was definitely drunk and delusional.
“Okay, big guy.” I laughed because he had to be on a bender if he was offering marriage in exchange for my bakery. “How about you sit right here?” When I patted the tall, cushy barstool, his thick manly brows bunched up. “What?” I asked as he stared at the seat like it was an offense.
“That’s pink.” His eyes locked with mine, and his huge body swayed. Without thinking, I moved in closer, hugging him, hoping he didn’t fall.
“Maybe you should sit on the couch?”
“Maybe you should keep holding me,” he huffed. I felt my cheeks warm up.He’s drunk, you idiot!I shouted at myself. He wasn’t making a move on me because he was attracted to me. He was flirting because he was tipsy, and I was not going to take advantage of that. I didn’t want to imagine the regret in his eyes when he woke up later.
“I knew you had a charmer side in you,” I teased. He stopped dead in his tracks, then his hand slid to the small of my back and pulled me into him. Flush. Against. Him.
“Charmer?” he repeated and shook his head. Completely captivated, I didn’t even blink as his lips quirked up into the sexiest, most panty-melting grin. “Don’t you know I’m the bad boy, Dani?” He leaned in closer.
So close, I could smell the scent of his body wash or cologne and something uniquely him.
“I’m the rebel without a cause.” He winked, and I nervously giggled.
“Okay.” I pressed my lips together and pushed him back.
He was flirting with me, but I had to remember he was drunk. I had a feeling he’d never bring me in as close as he had ifhe were sober. Jax helped me lead him toward the couch, which he stopped in front of and stared at.
“Is this whole place pink?” he noted, and again, because I was a nerd when I was nervous, especially around the man who was literally in my nightly dreams, I giggled.Again.
I looked around and shrugged. I loved pops of color and was living in my very own version of Barbie’s dream house.
“Come on, macho man, I’m sure you can stand being here for a night.”
“You want me for a night?” His dark eyes glittered. Oh yeah, he most definitely could be charming and flirt like the devil himself. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the fact I was probably blushing all the way to my toes. There was something sexy about the raspy quality of his voice, something almost familiar.
“Look at you, Mr. Casanova.” I winked, and he sat down. “I promise your man card won’t be taken away if you sit on a pink couch.”
“Not if you sit on it with me.” That was when I realized my hand was in his and he pulled me toward him, until I found myself on his lap.
“Jax,” I gasped. My brain stuttered for a moment. I couldn’t see anything past his beautiful brown eyes. They made me think of rich thick chocolate buttercream. Soft and delicious, with specks of salted caramel.
“Marry me, Dani.” I shivered, and I knew he didn’t miss it. “I promise. A year. That’s all. Moment the tour is over, and the fucking press goes away again, you won’t have to deal with me.”
Nothing of what he was saying made sense. But I was around drunks almost on a daily basis, working at different places off the Las Vegas Strip.
