Page 177 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“You’re beautiful when you’re jealous.”

She glances over at me with a skeptical look in her eyes. “Only then?”

Wrapping my arms around her, I walk behind her and nuzzle the spot on her neck just below her ear. “No. All the time but when you’re jealous too.”

It’s the sweet moments like this that I’ve missed the most with her. Sure, the sex is incredible, but when neither one of us is guarded and we let each other relax is when we’re happiest together.

And then we turn the corner into the kitchen and I see Ivy standing at the island in nothing but a blue and white bikini that leaves nothing to the imagination. I feel Tia’s entire body tense up and know this is going to be a problem.

Fuck. She has to go. I don’t care how good her cooking is.

“Hey, Jaxon! What’s up?” Ivy asks, and one look at Tia’s expression tells me this is not going to go well.

Nine

TIA

Every fiber of my being goes on red alert when I see this woman I have to share a house with standing in a barely-there string bikini chopping something on the island, and then when she speaks to Jaxon in a way that’s nothing less than flirty, I’m definitely not happy. What kind of hired help hangs around looking like this? Shouldn’t she be in one of those white chef’s uniforms? Maybe not the big chef’s hat but definitely more than the tiny triangles of fabric barely covering her bits and pieces.

The look on Jaxon’s face tells me he’s uncomfortable, but why? Immediately, my mind goes to a place I don’t want to think about. Does he know her better than he tried to make it seem in the bedroom? Back there, he didn’t mention anything about her having a smoking hot body. All he said was she had dark hair and a tattoo on her neck.

My eye is drawn to the black spider and spiderweb on the left side of her neck. It’s an ugly tattoo that looks homemade. Why didn’t he mention that? It’s not like Jaxon doesn’t know anything about tattoos. He has a ton of them.

He holds me close to him, resting his chin on my right shoulder as he says, “Hey, Ivy. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Tia.”

The way she looks at me makes me think something is definitely off about this whole situation. It’s not jealousy or anger I see in her expression, but I swear when she turned to look at me, she looked almost like she’d been waiting to see my face.

Why, though?

She wipes her hands on her bikini top and hurries over to where we’re standing to shake my hand. “Hi, I’m Ivy! I’m here to cook you guys whatever you want, so your wish is my command. Just say the word.”

The only words I want to say to this woman are go away, but I don’t want to sound petty or jealous, so I plaster a smile on my face and say, “Hi, Ivy. It’s nice to meet you. I hope you got something at the store because there wasn’t a thing in the refrigerator when I looked before.”

“I did. The fridge is stocked, and whatever you guys want to eat can be ready in no time. You name the dish, and I’ll whip it up.”

Jaxon hugs me tightly and in my ear says, “That sounds great, doesn’t it? What would you like to eat? Feel like a big meal or just something to snack on?”

I look back at him and with my forced smile say, “Whatever you want, honey.”

He’s a smart man, so he picks up on my feelings quickly. He gives me a kiss and then turns toward Ivy. “What about French toast? That would be great.”

The cook, who I thought just said she’d make whatever we want, gives him a strange look and laughs. “French toast? That seems like a weird thing to have in the middle of the day. What about a salad with some grilled chicken. I can have it ready in a few minutes.”

I open my mouth to tell her I want the damn French toast, but Jaxon speaks before I can. “French toast is Tia’s favorite, so just make the French toast. We’ll be outside, so let us know when it’s ready.”

Without another word, he takes me by the hand and leads me out the glass doors to the patio in the backyard. When I look back, Ivy is busy getting things ready to make what we want.

Jaxon and I sit at the table with a big yellow umbrella to shield us from the sun, and for a few seconds, neither one of us says a thing. Finally, I touch his hand and smile when he looks over at me.

“Thank you for doing that.”

“It was nothing. We told her what we wanted. I didn’t want her opinion to go with our French toast. Just some syrup and butter will do.”

He has no idea how much it means to me that he put his foot down and insisted on us having what I love. I want to tell him, but I’ll leave that for later. Right now, I just want to enjoy this beautifully sunny day with him.

“I love you. Do you know that?”

That finally makes him smile. “I know. I still love hearing it every time you say those words, though.”

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