Jaxon sat on the edge of his bed. “I trust you completely, and I meant it when I said I didn’t care about all the guys that came before me, but I worry a little that I’m not enough to keep you happy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like sexually?”
Jaxon glared again, then looked away and said, “Yeah.”
I laughed out loud. “You dork.” I sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of him. “Sex and love are not the same. My whole life, I’ve had one without the other, but with you, I have both. It’s not just enough; it’s everything.”
He glanced down at me and gave me a half-smile. “Pretty words, K.”
“Pretty face, J.”
Jaxon laughed and shook his head. “You’re right. My insecurities are probably sexy as hell. Sorry.”
I shook my head and kneeled in front of him. “I’ll take all of your insecurities if you’ll take mine.”
“Deal.”
???
Ireland was cold, and I missed Jaxon. Ireland was rainy, and I missed Jaxon. Ireland was beautiful, and I missed Jaxon. On my fifth day, I spent the afternoon photographing the Cliffs of Moher. They were fucking stunning, and I caught them at sunset, but I missed Jaxon.
I’d missed him before in my life, like that summer after fifth grade when he went to math camp. Then there were six months in high school when I always hung out with my boyfriend, and Jaxon had his first girlfriend. God, I hated that little honor-roll class president bitch. I also missed the shit out of Jaxon when he dated Savannah for an entire year.
But this was a different kind of missing. This was like an ache because he was mine, and I wanted to hold him and feel his heart beating.
After I finished my photography for the day, I boarded a bus to get back to the little cottage I’d rented for the week. I took a seat near the front and scrolled through my pictures of the cliffs. Shit. I took them with a depressing lens. Hopefully, my client would be okay with these bleak photos. Most likely, they wouldn’t even notice the mood of my photography. People rarely did, except for Jaxon.
When I reached my rental, I stopped to drop off my camera and pick up my umbrella, and then I headed down the street to a little pub. It was the same one I’d stopped at every night for dinner. They made a ridiculous beef stew and shepherd's pie.
The bartender looked up when I walked in and flashed me a devilish grin. He was precisely the kind of sexy, tatted Irish guy I’d teased Jaxon about. Hell, if I’d been here two months ago, I would have already slept with him.
“There’s my favorite lovely Yank.” He leaned a hip against the bar and wiped a glass, letting his dark eyes travel up and down my body.
I sank onto a barstool and laughed. “Keep it in your pants, man. I already told you I’m taken.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Sure look it. Can’t change your mind then?”
“Nope. And I’m not even sorry about it.” I smiled. “Can I get some food, though?”
The bartender gave me that devilish grin again. “If that’s all you want then. Let me know if you do change your mind. You only have to say it.” He winked and then walked away to grab a menu for me.
Was he attractive? Yes, drool-worthy stuff of fantasies. But they weren’t my fantasies, not anymore. Mine involved being shoved up against the door of Jaxon’s condo the second I got home. Mine were filled with crystal clear blue eyes and sweet whispers, not dark, mysterious eyes and meaningless flirtations.
I ate my meal in quiet observance of the other patrons. A group of college-aged kids laughed and cursed by the dartboards, and a young couple sat by the door in a fairly obvious fight. Another older couple sat down the bar from me, deep in conversation.
I used to throw myself right into the middle of the action everywhere I went, but tonight, I was content just watching. It was like I didn’t have to shove myself into every empty space anymore, searching for a place to fit. I knew where I belonged now.
I finished my meal, paid, and headed back to my rental. After a quick shower, I curled up in bed and called Jaxon. The phone rang and rang and finally went to voicemail. That was weird. I tried again a few minutes later. Again, no answer. I looked at the clock and figured it should only be 3 pm in San Francisco. Maybe he was in a meeting and didn’t have his phone on him. He’d call me as soon as he could.
Typically, I entertained myself with sexy foreign men in my downtime on these trips. What the hell was I supposed to do tonight? I pulled a book from my bag and tried to read. It was a romance novel I’d picked up at the airport with some sexy abs on the cover.
The abs were promising, but the dialogue was cheesy as hell. The characters were supposed to be in their mid-twenties, but they talked like they lived in a retirement home. After reading one chapter of cringe-worthy conversations, I skimmed ahead to the first sex scene. “Here we go,” I said aloud. I read a few sentences and prepared to get turned on. Maybe I could do phone sex with J when he finally called me back.
“Oh. Ugh. No. Nope.” The author used the words moist mound and throbbing penis in the same damn sentence. Nope. Game over. I slammed the book shut and tossed it on the nightstand.
I picked up my phone again and stared at it, willing Jaxon to call me back. I fell asleep an hour later, still waiting for his call.
23