Page 66 of Salvaged Hearts

Yeah, the way I wrapped her little waist in my palm and pulled her into me was possessive. Not even gonna apologize for it. “Jax, this is my beautiful bride, Alice. Baby, this is Captain Jackson Reynolds.”

“Jax,” he corrected, shaking his head reproachfully. “Call me Jax.”

Her smile was a bit too eager, and she was way too damn quick to take his hand.

This was a mistake.

“Nice to meet you.” To me she added, “You didn’t tell me we had company coming,honey.” Everything about the pet name sounded alien and I had to stuff back the laughter in my chest.

“‘M notreallycompany,” Jax dismissed. “An unfortunate necessity, by the sounds of it.”

Curious gray-blues landed on me, obviously unsure of what to say or expect. Giving her a little squeeze, I said, “Jax is the second of my four and has agreed to be your personal bodyguard until things quiet down in the media.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she breathed, a bit panicked.

“Absolutely necessary,” Jax and I responded in unison.

“Starting tonight, at the party,” I added, bracing for her pushback. As expected, her eyes narrowed.

“I am not going to walk around with a tailat my brother’s welcome party.”

“Ill-advised unless it’s a costume party,” I said, smirking, holding her gaze even as she glared at me. Jax brought out the punk eighteen-year-old enlistee in me better than about anybody else. Just for fun, I slowly dragged my eyes over her chest and the exposed column of her neck. “Though I think you’d be a rather tempting kitty.”

Yep. It was official; I would say anything to make her flush like that.

“Okay,” Jax drawled teasingly as Alice bit her lower lip, eyes dropping to her feet. “Do y'all need to get a room, and I can come back later, or you gonna give me the lay of the land?”

“Come on, asshole, we’ll bring you up to speed.” As we turned to guide Jax through Hart House, I lowered my lips to her ear and whispered, “Careful, little Belle. Keep blushing like that, and it will be hard for me to keep this a gentleman’s agreement. You’ll give a man the wrong impression if you let his words affect you like that.”

Her throat bobbed audibly before she whispered back, “I’m not responsible for your lack of mental fortitude.”

“No,” I agreed, “but you are responsible for whatever thoughts had you biting down on your lip just now.”

“I’ll take the numbers for the producers you promised. If my performance has you convinced, maybe I am better than I thought,” she said smugly as she lifted her chin. But the blood coloring her cheeks didn’t lie.

“Maybe,” I allowed, smiling as I straightened. “Or maybe you remember exactly what that kiss felt like on our beach.” I certainly did. It was all that occupied my mind during waking hours. “What did you say before the wedding? Welcome to the fun part.”

Formal Alice wasa vision no man could overlook. But casual Alice was infinitely more appealing. When she styled herself, she left her skin glowing, the light pattern of freckles over her nose was accompanied by a subtle pink like she’d spent too much time in the sun today. Maybe we had. One of her ridiculously flowy sun dresses was draped over her curves, hanging off her delicate shoulders. Half of my evening had been spent wanting to unwind the Roman-looking sandals wrapped around her calves or run my fingers over her bare collarbones.

I’d always found it fascinating the way she morphed into the socialite culture like the best of us; but she did the same thing in an event tent packed full of towering football players. Her shoulders were more relaxed, her smile a little less posed and more flirtatious, and she laughed a bit louder.

She was still the quiet one in most circles, always watching, rarely instigating, but just like she did with tycoons and politicians, she’d memorized a few stats on key players, making more than one of them take a step back to reassess her.

Paxton was just as at ease. If he was intimidated coming into a new team—one owned by his new in-laws, at that—he didn’t show it.

It was the tight end with his hand between my wife’s shoulder blades that told me we’d had enough socializing for the evening.

Abandoning my conversation with her brother and one of his most dependable, soon-to-be linemen, I rotated to her, pulling her into me and relieved when the idiot removed his hand with the sense to at least look a bit apologetic. I wasn’t sure exactly when the feeling of her in my hand became so necessary, but I’d have to think about it later.

“Haven’t seen you eat anything in a while, baby. Wanna grab a bite?”

“Would love one,” she answered a beat before I brought her mouth to mine. This wasn’t a beachside wedding, wasn’t the place to claim her, but god dammit, if her taste didn’t consume every inch of my being. Her pliant submission beneath my palms was exactly what I’d been needing since we left the island. Pulling away was a feat in itself, but at least every player in her radius had seen who she belonged to.

Jax, who’d been obediently hovering behind her without being overly intrusive, locked that navy gaze with mine. My dipped chin was enough of a dismissal for him to hang back as I led her away from the group of players and their significant others and over to the buffet of food.

Handing her a plate, I asked, “Having fun?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, a note of surprise to her tone. “I haven’t spent much time around your guys, but they’re entertaining. I think Pax will enjoy them.”

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