Page 52 of For the Promise

My stomach clenches. I don’t want Jaxon to stop pretending. He’s sweet and sexy and everything I’ve always wanted in a man.

And this is fake, I remind myself.

Chapter 17

“No, I don’t want to dance.” ~ Jaxon

Jaxon

“Are you okay?” Blossom whispers as we make our way to our assigned table for the rehearsal dinner.

I realize I’m clinging to her hand and force myself to loosen my hold.

“I’m okay.” She lifts her eyebrow, and I blow out a breath. “I’m not great with big groups of people.”

She squeezes my arm. “I know. We don’t have to stay long. Eat, boring speeches, and we’re out of here. The prohibition officers will never catch us.”

“For someone who didn’t grow up on Smuggler’s Hideaway, you’ve certainly adjusted quite well.”

She shrugs. “I love it here. No one makes me feel as if I don’t belong.”

But how long will she love it here? When will she get bored and leave? I shove those thoughts away. The answers don’t matter. This marriage is a charade.

I pull out her chair for her. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper in her ear before kissing her neck.

She shivers and my cock twitches. It wants to make her shiver a lot more. This is just for show, I remind it.

I feel eyes on me and scan the room. Alan is sitting at the sweetheart table throwing daggers at me with his eyes. I smile and wave. If he thinks he can intimidate me with a look, he’s obviously never met my brothers. He’s lucky I only pull pranks for the prank war with them.

I’ve barely had a chance to sit down when the food is served. Roast beef with au gratin potatoes, glazed carrots, and green beans with fried shallots.

Blossom rolls her eyes at the food. I lean in close. “Do you want me to order you something else?”

She snorts. “And give Alan the satisfaction? No way. He knows I hate roast beef.”

I glance over my shoulder and, sure enough, Alan is watching us. He’s obsessed with Blossom and I don’t like it one bit. I wave at him with my left hand, showcasing my wedding ring. She’s mine, asshole. When his eyes narrow, I know he got my message.

Blossom slathers her meat with the white sauce before slicing into it. “He thinks I won’t eat it and he can complain yet again about how I waste money. I’ll show him wasting money.”

She shoves a large piece into her mouth, barely chews before swallowing it.

“It’s a good thing—”

“Achoo!” Her sneeze cuts me off.

“Bless you.”

“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”

I hand her a napkin for her nose. “Are you okay?”

“What’s in… Achoo!...the white sauce? Achoo!”

I try the sauce. “Sour cream and…” I taste it again. “I believe it’s horseradish.”

“Oh no.” Her eyes widen. The tip of her nose is red and shiny and her eyes are watering. “Horseradish makes me sneeze.”

I transfer her roast beef to my plate. “I’ll finish it. Do you want my po…?”

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