“Yeah, and make it quick, will ya? I’d like to dance with my wife.” Reid pulled Lucie closer to his side. “Before I need a hip replacement would be nice,” he added wryly. That earned him a discreet elbow to the ribs.
Speechless. They’d rendered her one hundred percent speechless. Which gave Jackson the perfect opportunity to carry out whatever asinine plan he had up his sleeve. Once again he addressed the crowd.
“As I was saying, I created a list of rules I’d like Reid and Lucie to have if they ever lose their way…” Jackson sought her out with intense eyes, and she was helpless to do anything but meet them. “…and need to find their way back.”
Damn him. Damn him and his amber eyes and his silver tongue.
He faced her and, if it was anywhere in the realm of possibilities, almost looked…nervous.
And if that was the case, then it explained why she was damn near jumping out of her skin with anxiety. Countless scenarios—good, bad, ugly, and horrifying—spun in her mind like Tasmanian devils on speed. Her heart had somehow escaped her ribs because she felt it beating faster and faster just under the surface of her skin, and her lungs must have collapsed because she couldn’t draw a full breath. Her organs were failing, the apocalypse was at hand, they were all doomed and holy shit what the hell is wrong with me!
Jax placed a large, warm hand at her hip and leaned in until his cheek kissed hers and his mouth rested close to her ear. “V, take some deep breaths for me, honey.” His tone lacked the gruffness he used during more intimate times, but it was still heavy and commanding enough to trigger her desire to obey, to let go.
With him coaching her softly, she managed to slow her heart rate and fill her lungs to capacity, banishing her panic attack and preventing what would certainly have been an embarrassing moment if she’d completely lost it. She felt his hand brush her hair over her shoulder, letting his fingertips glide lightly over the shell of her ear and down her neck. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, before placing a discreet kiss at her temple and pulling away.
“Don’t you mean ‘crazy woman’?”
“Uh-oh. Someone’s been talking to the locals.” At least he had the decency to wince. “Come on, it’s kind of funny. You thought it sounded pretty.”
“I also thought pupule wahine was a term of endearment,” she whispered a little too loudly. Snickers and giggles wafted up from the peanut gallery.
“Can you berate me for your nickname later?”
“Absolutely. I’ll add it to the growing list of things I plan on berating you for later.”
That time she heard a snort, pronouncing her best friend’s amusement of the dressing-down of her big brother. Vanessa crossed her arms and arched a single brow, daring him to finish what he started, though she wanted more than anything for him to spontaneously lose the gift of speech.
Clearing his throat, Jax glanced at their rapt audience, took a deep breath himself, and began. “I call this ‘Jackson’s Lucky Seven Rules to Love By.’ Rule #7: Always be one hundred percent honest. Even if it means you can’t pretend to be engaged to the most beautiful woman on the island.”
She inhaled sharply. He peered up from the paper briefly then continued.
“Rule #6: Always own up to your mistakes. Even if you weren’t that late and planned on buying her lunch to make up for it.”
“Rule #5: Always negotiate in terms of forever. Even if she gives you a little more Hyde than Jekyll.” He gave their rapt audience an audacious wink. “The crazy just adds spice.”
Everyone laughed at that one. If they kept this up, she’d wind up with them voting her off the island like a bad mash-up of Survivor and The Love Connection.
“Rule #4: Always use your fists in the cage and to protect her if necessary, but never bring violence into your life.” Jackson picked up her hand and cradled it against his chest. “Even if she’s strong enough to take care of herself.”
Hot tears stung her eyes and her throat closed tightly on something the size of a ping-pong ball. It was the only thing preventing her from cursing him aloud at the moment.
“Rule #3: Always be willing to move out of the bachelor shack into a grown-up house.” A grin hitched up one corner of his mouth where his dimple winked at her. “Even if said shack has bonus amenities you can’t get anywhere else, like mind-blowing waterfall sex.”
“Jackson!” she warned, sure her face was turning a bright red. The bastard ignored her and kept going.
“Rule #2: Always understand the balance of control and give as often as you take.” His thumb traced circles on her hand. “Even if it means admitting your chivalry can be a little pushy.”
“Little, my ass,” she muttered under her breath.