Page 4 of Then Came Love
Chapter Two
JORDAN CALLED TODD on her way out the door Sunday afternoon and tried her best not to sound annoyed when the call when straight to voicemail for the fourth time since she’d left the wedding last night. “Hey. It’s me again. I’m about to meet with the designer about my dress, and I was really hoping to get your input. I know you’re busy, but please call if you get a chance.”
She put her Kate Spade tote bag on the passenger seat and drove to Jax’s studio in Pleasant Hill, the next town over. She’d spent all day thinking about the things Jax had said to her and how it had felt to be in his arms, to be wanted instead of made to feel like an imposition. As she drove, she found herself trying to remember if Todd had ever said the type of sweet things Jax had said to her or the last time he’d made time for her spur-of-the-moment, as Jax had. But after coming up empty, she stopped comparing them, because it wasn’t fair. She’d been with Todd for seven years and had probably forgotten those moments. Wasn’t it normal for couples to cool off and take each other for granted after so many years together?
She pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the pastures and spring flowers lining the road as she drove out of Prairie View and into Pleasant Hill. Pleasant Hill was a charming, upscale small town with tall buildings, fancy shops, brick-paved sidewalks lined with flowering trees, and cute wooden benches on every corner. She parked behind Jax’s studio, noticing his shiny black Lexus in a reserved spot.
A classy car for a classy man.
Butterflies swarmed in her belly. She’d talked herself in and out of showing up today about a hundred times, but she kept coming back to how happy she’d been last night. Despite her nervousness, she’d had more fun in the short amount of time they’d spent dancing than she’d had in years. And didn’t that just tell her something she wasn’t ready to admit to herself? But she deserved a little joy, even if he gave her butterflies, didn’t she? They were both adults, and they’d already set boundaries. She trusted herself and Jax not to cross them.
She glanced in the rearview mirror, her nerves flaring as she gave herself a quick once-over. She’d changed her clothes several times and had finally settled on her favorite skinny jeans and Jimmy Choo Metz Charm 100 sandals, a white boatneck shirt, and a white blazer, which she pushed up to her elbows. She’d worn dangling silver earrings to match the charms on her sandals and had pinned her hair back in a low ponytail, leaving a few wispy bangs framing her face with the hopes of covering the thin white scar above her right eyebrow. She’d gone easy on the makeup, except for the pop of red lipstick that matched her nail polish. She hadn’t worn red lipstick in a long time because Todd thought it was too racy. It felt good to wear it, like she’d rediscovered a piece of herself she’d been ignoring.
Satisfied that she looked chic but not overdone, she grabbed her tote bag. She’d brought her own wedding gown designs, but now she felt a little silly. Jax was a world-renowned designer, and she was just a girl with a love of all things fashion who had never finished her fashion degree. But if she was going to have a gown designed, shouldn’t it at least include some of the elements she wanted? She felt a familiar knot in her stomach. It had been there a lot lately when she thought about marrying Todd. But she didn’t have time to get lost in those confusing thoughts right now.
With a deep breath, she climbed out of her car and headed around the building, which was surrounded by the most glorious gardens. Jax’s studio was directly across the street from a beautiful park in the center of town. Even from the outside, it looked like a diamond among gemstones, with a rich, green storefront that was so dark it bordered on black, giving it an elegant feel, with JAX BRADEN DESIGNS in large, simple gold letters over expansive, paned windows, through which she could see the leather chairs in the lobby. The first time they’d met she’d seen only the lobby and his office, both outfitted with dark wood and sumptuously soft gray leather. She was curious about the rest of his studio. What did his work area look like? Everything about him seemed a step above the rest, and she’d been as taken with his offices as she’d been with the man himself.
The studio door opened, and Jax stood before her, striking in a fitted white dress shirt, windowpane-plaid gray slacks, and black dress shoes. Their eyes connected with such magnificent force, she swore the temperature spiked by fifty degrees.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Lawler.”
“Hello, Mr. Braden.”
“Won’t you come in?” His gaze swept appreciatively down the length of her, and as she walked inside, he said, “Killer outfit.”
“Thanks. Fashion is my guilty pleasure.”
He closed and locked the door, making her heart race. “I’d like to be your guilty pleasure.”
Her cheeks burned. Holy cow. “Jax, you said you wouldn’t flirt.”
“I’m not flirting. I was merely stating a fact.” He closed the distance between them and took her hand. “If I were going to flirt”—he kissed the back of her hand—“I’d say something far less brash.”
She wanted to know what he’d say, but that was a road that she had a feeling would lead to trouble, so she didn’t dare ask. “Then we need another rule. No more stating facts.”
He laughed. “Okay. Lies it is. But for the record, I despise lies more than anything in the world.”
“So do I,” she said softly, mentally noting another thing they had in common.
“I like a woman who appreciates honesty and the finer things in life.”
“I’m really not materialistic.”
“As noted by the fact that you were willing to buy your wedding gown off the rack.”
He didn’t miss a thing, did he? “Yes, well, I didn’t expect you or any other designer to have time to make a dress. But for the record, I don’t buy nice clothes or accessories to be flashy. I do it because I feel good when I wear them. For me, not for anyone else.”
“Not even for your fiancé?”
“Todd’s too busy to notice anything like that.”
“I hope you mean he doesn’t recognize brands and not that he doesn’t notice you.”
“No, I mean all of it. He doesn’t often notice what I wear.”
