Page 39 of What Happens In Vegas: Jessa & Jaxon
“Thanks, Mama.” I smooth my dress, grateful for the momentary distraction from Jaxon and his companion. “How have you both been?”
“Worried ’bout you working yourself to the bone, as usual,” Dad says. “Any word from that interview?”
I hesitate to share the news of my promotion. For some inexplicable reason, I want Jaxon to be the first to know.
“Still waiting,” I lie, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I’ll let you know soon as I hear something.”
Thankfully, Kamal joins us, grinning. He’s dressed in a perfectly fitted navy suit.
“Birthday boy!” I hand him the wrapped package.
“Look at you, all fancy with your gift-wrapping skills,” Kamal says, weighing the package. “Heavy. Perfect corners. You ain’t never gonna change, sis.”
“Some habits are worth keeping.”
Before Kamal can respond, movement in my peripheral vision draws my attention. Jaxon and the woman are approaching our group. My heart performs an inconvenient gymnastics routine.
“Jessa,” Jaxon says with a nod, his deep voice sending a ripple of awareness through me. His eyes drag over my form appreciatively. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise.”
Antonio materializes beside the couple, champagne glass in hand. “Ah! I see you’ve all met Alyxandra!” Antonio’s voice carries more enthusiasm than necessary. “Jaxon’s been absolutely smitten with her since they met!”
“Has he?” Mama asks.
I glance at Antonio, whose smirk is so self-satisfied I’m tempted to step on his Italian leather loafers. Hard.
“Oh yes,” Alyxandra continues, her crimson lips curving into a smile as she adjusts the thin strap of her dress. “He’s a keeper.”
My fingers clench around my purse as possessive thoughts blazes through my mind. He’s my husband. Mine!
Jaxon clears his throat. “If you’ll excuse us,” he says, a muscle tightening in his jaw.
“Jaxon, can I speak to you privately for a moment?” I interject, seizing the opportunity before it slips away.
His eyes meet mine, but before he can respond, Alyxandra suddenly stumbles forward with a small cry.
“Oh!” she gasps, gripping Jaxon’s arm. “I’m so sorry. These heels are treacherous on this floor.”
“Are you alright?” Jaxon asks, his attention immediately diverted as he steadies her.
“I need to sit down for a minute,” she says, leaning against him with unnecessary emphasis.
Jaxon guides her to a nearby table draped in midnight blue linen and my internal temperature rises several degrees.
An hour later, I spot Jaxon standing alone at the bar. This is the first time all evening I’ve seen him without his shadow. It’s my chance. My pulse kicks up as I step forward.
“Jaxon—”
“There you are!” the party planner interrupts, her clipboard clutched to her chest. “The photographer needs shots of Kamal with his closest friends. Right now.”
I suppress a sigh as I watch them disappear into the crowd gathered around my brother. Another moment lost.
“Girl, you need better timing,” Meesha says, appearing at my elbow with a fresh glass of wine, her plum dress making her skin glow under the ambient lighting.
Near the dessert table, with its elaborate tower of Kamal’s favorite cookies, I spot Jaxon alone at last, adjusting his cufflinks. I navigate between clusters of laughing guests with determined strides, only to have my cousin Gina intercept me three steps away from my target.
“Girl, how have you been?” she exclaims, pulling me toward a quieter corner of the room where the music is less insistent.
