Page 74 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
Idowant to talk about us. About Steel. But that’s a delicate conversation which needs time and can’t be rushed. I certainly can’t drop the information on Jordan then leave town.
“Don’t apologize. I understand.” She draws back from the hug to meet my eyes. “I know you don’t speak to your mom, but the news must still be upsetting. How are you doing?”
“I don’t think the severity of her situation has fully sunk in for me yet. It’s a lot to wrap my head around. We were extremely close before everything fell apart. I’ve been angry at her for three years but... it doesn’t mean I love her any less.” I close my eyes and pinch the space between them. “She told me my brother is getting married on her vineyard this Saturday. I hadn’t planned to attend, but I’ll do it for her. I’m just so… tense about seeing my family.Allof my family. Everyone will be there. I don’t know how I’m meant to get through this weekend.”
Jordan lowers my hand from my face and speaks softly. “I’ll come with you. We’ll get through the weekend together.”
I shake my head. “Kitten, I want you to come with me so badly. I hate the thought of leaving you. But I can’t take you with me. The issues between me and my family are on a whole other level of complicated. It will be a difficult time and you don’t deserve to be placed in the middle of that. I won’t do that to you.”
Jordan weaves her fingers with mine and gives a little squeeze. When I look into her eyes, there’s so much tenderness gazing back at me that it makes my throat clench. “I don’t mind being placed in an awkward situation if it means I’m supporting you,” she says. “In fact, Iwantyou to lean on me for support. You don’t always have to be strong. You can be vulnerable around me, Daxton. If I had to deal with my parents, I would need all the support in the world.”
If the circumstances were different, I would bring Jordan home with me this weekend. But it’s too risky. Someone could mention details about my past. She could piece together that I’m Steel. I can’t have her find out the truth under those circumstances.Ineed to be the one to tell her, not that I have any clue how to tell Jordan now that I’ve slept with her.
Even if my identity weren’t an issue, I can’t bring Jordan to the wedding. It would place her in an unfair position, unaware the bride is my ex-fiancée. If a guest mentioned my past with Felicity, she would be completely blindsided.
Fuck. Why must everything be so complicated?
“Jordan, you are… perfect. So supportive. Everything you say is the right thing. I just… can’t take you home with me. I’m… protective of you. You’re the most important person in this world to me.”
She nods, speaking quietly. “Uh… okay?” I can hear it in her voice that she’s hurt, which is the last thing I want to make her feel. “Daxton… I don’t know what happened to cause such a rift between you and your family. I hope one day you’ll trust me enough to tell me. But I’ll drop the topic.”
“Jordan, please don’t be upset.”
“I’m fine,” she lies, her smile wavering. “Can I help you pack?”
ChapterThirty-Seven
Daxton
It’s midday when the car service I took from Malibu pulls up in front of my childhood home in Napa Valley. My muscles ache, stiff with the anticipation of this family reunion. So many streams of anxiety are running through my head, like my mother’s illness and the awkward interactions that are bound to occur between myself, Brad, and Felicity. I can’t stop dwelling on the way every guest at this wedding will be thinking about the elephant in the room—that Felicity and I used to be engaged. The silent judgment is something I don’t want to deal with.
Everything feels wrong between me and Jordan too. I landed in LA late yesterday afternoon and spent the night at my home in Malibu before traveling here. Jordan and I spoke on the phone like we do every night when we’re not together, but our dynamic was off. I could hear the distance in Jordan’s voice. She was like that all throughout yesterday morning too, not herself while helping me pack for my flight. I know it’s because she asked me to be open with her about my family issues, and that she feels a disconnect because I couldn’t.
I gaze out the backseat window, taking in my surroundings. Although I haven’t stepped foot on the vineyard in over three years, everything is exactly as I remember. Beautiful and timeless.
Vines cover the stone walls of the house, scaling up to the terracotta roof. Farther down the property, I spot the vineyard restaurant my parents opened when I was a kid, a popular destination for weddings and no doubt where Brad and Felicity will be celebrating their nuptials this weekend. Scattered along the perimeter of the vineyard are small, rustic cottages that offer accommodation to vacationers.
Grapevines stretch out as far as the eye can see, perfectly aligned in neat rows. Memories flood my mind, of me and Brad running through the rows of vines, playing hide and seek in the barrel room, and helping my parents during the grape harvest. I can hear the sound of my mother’s laughter as we cooked homemade pizza together in the wood fired oven, as if it was just yesterday.
I see her smile disappear when my father entered the kitchen. How I came home that one night and found him beating her.
My eyes clench shut, pushing away the memory.
Hearing the front door of the house open, I glance in its direction and see my mother rushing toward my car. From her agile movements and plump face, there’s no signs she’s a sick woman, which offers me some relief. After a steadying breath, I open the car door and step onto the limestone footpath.
Before I have a chance to speak, Mom pulls me into a tight hug. She smells just like I remember: the grassy scent of grapevines and oak barrels used for aging wine. Mom is small in my arms but her embrace is fierce. Her brown hair has turned white since we last saw each other. It sits in a low bun and she’s dressed in her favorite color of red wine.
She draws back, holding my shoulders as she examines my face. A few more wrinkles have aged her, but she looks good, like her vibrant old self. “My goodness, Daxton, you’re even more handsome than the last time I saw you. It’s so good to see you. Too much time has passed. We’ve all missed you so much.”
I clear my throat. “It’s ah… good to see you too, Mom. You’re looking well.”
Only now that the initial greeting is over do I notice one of my young cousins, Charlie, is with us. He would be about ten now, and is standing patiently with oven mitts, a tray of cookies, and a mop of brown hair on his head.
Mom places a hand on Charlie’s upper back, gently encouraging him to step forward. “We spent the morning baking your favorite cookies as a welcome home treat.”
Charlie looks up at me with wide eyes and a shy smile. I have plenty of memories of this kid. Of all the kids in our extended family, which is a lot since Mom is one of four children and my dad had five siblings. Growing up at family functions, I was the fun older cousin, chasing them through the vines. Now, Ally is the only kid in my life, and I do miss them.
I crouch down to be at Charlie’s level. “Hey, kid. Long time no see.”
