Page 39 of Then Came Love
She rolled her eyes, hating that judgmental side of him. “Her parents, obviously, and she and her husband were excited to meet you. We were going to have dinner with them tomorrow night.”
“Well, hell. I’m sorry about that, too. But I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t I book us a weekend in Cabo next month?”
“So you can cancel that, too?”
“You’re right. I won’t make promises I can’t keep. That’s not fair to either of us.”
Despite how upset she was, it wasn’t fair to put all the blame on him. “One promise breaker in the relationship is enough, and I think I’ve got that covered after putting off the wedding so many times.”
“Don’t sweat that, babe, and mark my word. I’ll more than make up for all of my cancellations on our wedding night. I’m going to make you come so many times you won’t be able to walk the next day. I’ve got to go, babe. Love you.”
He ended the call, and she stared at the phone, thinking about their wedding night, and the promise that he had no idea he was incapable of keeping.
JAX DIDN’T KNOW what he needed more: a kick in his ass by one of his brothers or a stiff drink, but he definitely needed something to get his head on straight. It was a little after nine, and he was in the studio working on the designs for Jordan’s dress. At least he was trying to, but it was slow going. He couldn’t stop thinking about her in the arms of another guy.
He gritted his teeth as his conscience corrected him. In the arms of her fiancé.
Coco pawed at his leg.
He reached down to pet her. He rarely brought her to work because he didn’t want to chance getting dog hair on the fabric, but tonight he’d needed the company. “We’ll go home soon, baby.”
She barked, her tail wagging.
He’d just taken her out ten minutes ago. “It won’t be too long. I just want to get this done.”
She barked and ran out the studio door.
“Coco!”He pushed to his feet and heard Jillian talking to Coco as she came up the stairs. They had keys to each other’s offices, and while Jillian made good use of hers, he’d never used his.
“Why aren’t you answering your texts?” Jillian strutted into the studio looking ready for a night out in one of her signature minidresses and maroon knee-high boots. “I thought you were dead.”
“Really, Jilly? That was your first thought?” He crouched to love up Coco.
“No. It was my third. It’s Friday night, so I figured you were either busy with a woman and hadn’t come up for air in the last two hours, in which case, go you, or that you were avoiding my calls, in which case, what the hell? But then I saw your car out front and the lights on, and you never work on Friday nights, so my mind took a detour.”
He kissed Coco’s head and pushed to his feet. “I’m working on the designs for Jordan’s dress, and my phone is in my jacket. I must not have heard it.” His jacket was hanging on the back of his chair, and he’d turned the ringer off because every time he’d gotten a text, he’d hoped it was Jordan, and it had driven him nuts.
“Speaking of Jordan, how’s that going?”
“See for yourself.” He motioned to the designs on the table.
She looked over the three gowns he was working on. “Wow. These are gorgeous. Seriously, some of your best work.” She picked up the picture he’d printed from Jordan’s text of the gloves. “What’s this?”
“A few of the residents at Jordan’s work crocheted them for her and she wants to wear them at the wedding.”
“That’s so sweet. They must really love her.”
“Yeah.” He’d been thinking about that and how much his sensitive girl would probably miss seeing them when she moved.
Jillian looked between the picture of the gloves and the drawings. “I see the tie-ins now. That’s brilliant.”
“I think she’ll like them.”
“No smart-ass comment about how brilliant you are?” Jillian studied him with narrowing eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You can’t bullshit your twin.”
“You thought I was dead. Your twin powers are not what they used to be.”
“If I really thought you were dead, would I have come in here alone, or would I have called Nick?”
“Fair point.” He knew she wouldn’t relent, and the truth was, he could use someone to talk to. When they were young, Jillian had been his confidant, because Nick and Beau had been more brawn than sensitivity, and Zev and Carly had been joined at the hip, while Graham was younger and had been more interested in swinging from tree limbs than talking about anything real.
Jax held up his hand, palm out, fingers spread, as they’d done when they were younger. “Twin talk?”
“Uh-oh, this is bad.” She pressed her hand to his, and they laced their fingers together.
“To the grave,” they said in unison.
Jillian climbed onto a chair at the drawing table. “I knew it wasn’t a good idea for you to work that closely with Jordan.”
“I needed to do it, and I’m glad I am. I’m discovering so much more about her.” He reached for Jordan’s sketch pad. “Take a look in there and tell me what you think.”
He waited as she analyzed the sketches, brows furrowed. She lifted her gaze to his a few pages in. “Who drew these? They’re not yours.”
“They’re Jordan’s. She called them doodles.”
Her eyes widened, and she laughed. “If I could doodle like this…” She admired a few more pages of dresses.
“So it’s not just me, right? She’s talented as hell. I saw it the second I looked at her sketches, but I thought maybe it was just because I like her so damn much.”
She set the sketch pad on the table. “You already know the answer or you wouldn’t have shown them to me.”
He paced, too agitated to stand still, and Coco sat up, watching him. “She’s designing her gown with me, which is probably why that’s some of my best work, because it’s not just mine. It’s ours. I swear it’s like a sign.”
“You don’t believe in signs.”
