Page 79 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
I laugh to myself. No, there’s certainly a crush involved. A crush from both sides.
I won’t interfere. It would only embarrass Ally, and she deserves to have a friend or whatever Dan is.
Needing to occupy myself, I make my way through the guests and take a seat at the bar, ordering something non-alcoholic.
“Hey, Dax.”
My shoulders tense at the voice behind me. A conversation about finance isn’t looking so bad after all.
Brad sits beside me. “Thanks again for coming to the wedding. It means a lot.”
“I came because Mom is sick.”
“Yeah, I figured. I’m still glad you’re here.” He places a wine glass on the bar, twisting the stem between his two fingers and watching the glass twirl with a furrowed brow.
I’m honestly surprised I can stand to look at his face. The last time I saw Brad, I couldn’t be in the same room with him without wanting to punch him in the jaw. Now… the pain is still here, but it’s changed. There’s no possessive alpha male in me, furious that he stole my fiancée.Noneof this is about Felicity anymore. It’s about losing a brother. My best friend. The one person who had gone through my fucked-up childhood with me.
“Listen, Dax, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I need to say it. I’ve made some big mistakes in my life. You and I were close. As close as brothers can be. Every day I wish I’d handled things differently between us. Things with Felicity happened so quickly and I didn’t know how to tell you the truth without hurting you.”
The same old story. I’ve heard this excuse a hundred times. Only this time… Brad’s words sit differently.
He sounds so desperate and regretful.
He sounds…
Fuck. Brad sounds just likeme, caught in a situation he didn’t know how to get out of without hurting someone he cares about. Scared of the inevitable, that he would lose his brother. I would giveanythingin the world for Jordan to forgive me when I tell her who I am.
I glance out among the sea of guests, searching for Jordan. She catches my attention in the distance, exiting the ladies’ room with Amabella. Mom pulls them both aside and starts playing with Jordan’s black curls, admiring her hair. I watch as the three women have an animated conversation, with Jordan laughing as she demonstrates how to create curls, twisting her hair around her finger as if it were a hot roller. My God, there is nothing I want more than for this secret between me and Jordan to be resolved.
“She’s beautiful.” Brad’s voice draws me back to the moment. He’s followed my gaze and is watching Jordan. “I’m happy for you, man. I’ve kept an eye on you two tonight and I can see how much you like each other. You deserve to be happy.”
When I don’t reply, Brad stands from the barstool to leave. My attention remains on Jordan, still talking with my mother and Amabella, and I realize it’s because of her that I can let go of this anger I have toward my brother.
“Wait,” I say before Brad walks too far from the bar. I turn around on my barstool to face him. “There’s something I have to say.”
“Go ahead. Whatever it is, I can take it.”
“It’s not like that.” I smooth a hand through my hair and rub the back of my neck, trying to find the right words. “When I first received your wedding invitation a couple of weeks back, I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Not because I still have feelings for Felicity—I moved on from her a long time ago. But because of you. It’s your actions that hurt the most. But for the first time in years… Brad, I understand your apology. Iacceptyour apology. Tomorrow at the wedding, you and Felicity will have my congratulations.”
My brother stares at me with a look of disbelief. A smile tugs at his lips and disappears with uncertainty. “You… mean that?”
“Yes, I do.”
He nods, the smile returning to his face for good this time.
ChapterForty
Jordan
The night is closing in on ten p.m., yet with all the alcohol passed around and the jazz band still roaring, the rehearsal dinner shows no sign of slowing down. I’m laughing with Amabella and Shirley by the wine barrels when a hand slips around my waist. Glancing over my shoulder, a smile finds my lips when I see Daxton behind me.
“What did I miss?” he asks with a warmth in his eyes that I haven’t truly seen since before our arrival at the vineyard.
“Your mom and Amabella were telling me about you as a kid.”
All the color drops from Daxton’s face and his gaze shoots to Amabella.
“Relax.” She sends him some silent message with her eyes. “Nothing bad was said. We were talking about the time you and I tried to surprise Aunt Shirley with breakfast in bed and the kitchen caught on fire.”
