Page 47 of Merlot Marriage

The yellow jacket is still buzzing in my face, darting from my ear to my chin, then up to my hairline. I attempt to track it with my eyes while focusing on breathing through my nose andholding still. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do to stop the scared whine that Cassie keeps making. There’s an electricbzzztnoise, and then the scent of burning fills my nose.

“Ma’am, it’s safe now.” The pleasant southern drawl belongs to the man standing in front of me. He’s tall, with a polo shirt tucked neatly into a pair of tan slacks. Arrestingly bright blue eyes stare out at me from under dark brows and perfectly swooped hair.

“Oh my god, what is that thing? It’s so cool.” Cassie reaches out to take what looks like a metal tennis racket from him.

He hands it over without looking at her. “It’s a bug zapper. Ma’am, are you alright? Did it get you? Are you allergic to bee stings?”

Cassie shakes the dead insect out of the zapper before waving it around like she’s playing tennis with an invisible opponent. My heart is pounding so fast that I’m a little nauseated, but I shake my head at the polite stranger as I catch my breath. “I’m fine. Thank you for zapping it with your racket thingy.”

“I’m Cassie, by the way,” she pipes up as there’s anotherbzzzt. “Yes! Got him. The cutie you just saved from imminent pain is Ophelia. I’m married. She’s single.” Cassie adds the last bit without a shred of self-consciousness, even though my cheeks burn hot.

What a wingwoman. Not only is she telling the man who just touched my boob my name, but did she have to add that I’m single?

“Well, mighty nice to meet you, Mrs. Cassie. Ms. Ophelia.” He tips an invisible hat in our direction, emphasizing his good-ole-boy charm with an exaggerated “Ms.”

“Just Ophelia is fine.” I try to squash down my irritation at the situation. The man is being polite; it’s highly unlikely he’s trying a line on me right now.Iknow I could have handled the situation fine, but he couldn’t have.

“My mama would have my hide if I didn’t mind my manners.” He tips his chin and winks, before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Jaxon Jones, at your service.”

Strangely, the more he tries to be charming, the less I like him. His drawl and hat-tipping feel like an act. When Philip does it, I know he means it, even when he’s being goofy. I pull my hand free and lean back in my chair.

Cassie, however, doesn’t seem to feel the same way. “Goodness, I don’t think we’ve ever met a real southern gentleman.” Her terrible fake drawl makes me cringe, but since she hasn’t taken her eyes off him and he’s busy kissing the back of her hand—not the one with the deadly tennis racket—my eye roll goes unnoticed.

“Well, I’m just happy I was here in the right place at the right time. How are you enjoying this fine establishment?” He waves a hand at the sloping hill below us.

“Oh, we love this place. We come here all the time.” A slight exaggeration in her case. “Ophie’s sister is getting married to one of the guys who works here.”

“Ah, so you’re regular patrons?” He turns to me, eyes dropping to my chest and back up, almost too quickly to notice. “And congratulations to your sister. Love is a fine thing, isn’t it?”

“Thank you,” I murmur. I grab my glass, forgetting it’s empty until I try to take a drink. Well, fuck.

Jaxon indicates the large party at a nearby table, then starts describing his relationship to each. I lose count around the fourth cousin twice removed and start debating with myself over how rude it would be to go get another bottle from Philip.

“And where is your husband, Mrs. Cassie?”

“At home. We just got back from our honeymoon, and I needed a break from his face.” Cassie laughs. “Since Ophie is out here hiding from her sister’s sex noises—”

“Cassie!” My ears burn as I swat at my friend. “Don’t talk about that.”

But Jaxon joins her laughter, pausing to give me a knowing look. A look that says he might be interested in learning more about these sex noises, and I wonder if he’s really as much of a gentleman as he claims. Where is Philip when I need him?

Except that Cassie is here, and she doesn’t know about us, so he can’t just swoop in and stake his claim on me with a kiss like he did at the restaurant.

Cassie huffs when I don’t join in on the amusement. “Ugh, fine. It was funny, though. Anyway”—she turns back to Jaxon—“we are having a girls’ day and catching up since we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks. No husbands allowed.”

Just as she says it,myhusband walks up to the table.

“Are you girls alright?” Philip’s accent is music to my ears after Jaxon’s languid drawl. “I heard yelling?”

“You heard yelling and stopped to grab a bottle of wine?” Jaxon’s drawl slips a little, his tone clipped at the end.

“Right, well, it stopped, and when I looked through the window, everyone seemed to be okay, so I paused to bring reinforcements.” He hefts the bottle of red in his hand. “I grabbed one of the library pinots from the back.”

“Philip, this is Jaxon Jones. There was a yellow jacket buzzing in my face, and he very kindly killed it for us.” I step in. “Jaxon, this is my best friend, Philip.”

Jaxon doesn’t look convinced, angling his body between us. “I saw you inside earlier, didn’t I?”

“Sure did, mate. You sure you’re okay, Ophie?” Philip moves around him, his eyes glued to me as he comes to stand beside my chair.

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