Page 12 of Kiss Marry Kill
“By the way, I’m Jackson Irons,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “But everyone calls me Jax.”
Bending down to pick up her hat, she smoothed out her ponytail and then put the cap back on. “I’m Megan Cruz,” she said, shaking his hand. She smiled, still a little on the shy side. He needed to coax the giddiness and the confidence out of her again.
“Well, Megan Cruz, as far as I can tell you’ve got two choices,” he said, still holding her hand in the air mid-shake. It was so small and soft compared to his. “You can go back in there and deal with an undoubtedly angry boyfriend—who, honestly, seems like a dick—or we can go have lunch.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“We’ve kissed. Not exactly strangers anymore,” he teased and rubbed his thumb over her hand, not letting go. He couldn’t help it, he liked the feeling and the way her eyes widened and her lips turned up with every contact. It was as if she’d been deprived of affection. Damn, he could fix that. No problem. He’d love to start that job immediately, actually. “And I feel like I owe you a meal or something after that kiss.”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
She pulled her hand away and fumbled nervously with the foam finger, about to tear a chunk out of it when her cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, she ignored the call and slid it back into the pocket of her jean shorts.
“It’s the douchebag?” Jax asked.
“His name is Richard.”
Looking disgusted, he shook his head. “Seriously? Richard? The name says it all. He’s a dick—literally,” he said, making her laugh loudly. “Jax is a way cooler name.”
She looked over his shoulder as if trying to decide what she was going to do, or maybe it was to see if Dick would show up and fight for her. That’s what he would’ve done if he was Dick but then again, no guy at a baseball game would be kissing his girl, especially while he sat next to her. He reached down and took the foam finger she was destroying. “I’m just going to hold on to this while you make your decision. Poor finger doesn’t deserve your torture.”
She laughed again. “I uh . . . I don’t . . .” She shook her head side to side. “Richard’s going to be so mad at me, not that I necessarily care, but he’s my boyfriend. It feels wrong that I kissed you.”
“Does it? I thought it felt spec-fucking-tacular,” he said, and then added, in a serious tone, “If I was your man, I’d question what the fuck I did wrong to make my girl want to kiss another man. Then I’d kick that other’s man’s ass for touching my girl. We’ve been out here for about ten minutes, I don’t see Dick running out to find you.”
“He wouldn’t run after me and risk making a scene.”
“Like I said, he’s a dick. Look, there’s a little Cuban café down the street. Stranger danger, I get it. But I promise, I’m a good guy. We can just walk. You have your phone in case you feel uncomfortable. Plus, it’s broad daylight.”
Her phone rang again and again she ignored the call, but this time she let out a deep breath, slid the phone back in her pocket, and finally said, “yeah, okay. Lunch sounds good.”
He wanted to pump his fist in the air triumphantly, right there in the middle of the street. But, he was trying to impress this woman, not make her think he was an immature idiot . . . like her boyfriend. So instead he smiled brightly, because she deserved to know it felt like a privilege that she wanted to spend time with him.
* * *
Oh God. What did I just do? And why is this man so happy to be going to a café with me? He doesn’t even know me. I’m not that fun.
“You like baseball, huh?” he asked, causing her to whip her head to the side to look at him. Her mind was a jumbled mess of questions and worry. Accidentally, his hand brushed hers, which made her heart skip but also made her fear bubble up. Her parents were going to have a fit. Richard was surely on the phone with them right now telling them what had happened.
“Megan? Baseball?” he repeated.
“Oh . . . uh . . . yeah. Love it. I try to catch at least one game every season.”
“If you love it, why don’t you come more often?”
“Richard never has time to come with me. I used to come to the games with my grandfather before he passed away.”
“Like I said, Dick’s a dick.”
She laughed—she’d been doing a lot of that in the few minutes she’d known Jax. She really liked that he said exactly what was on his mind—consequences be damned. He wasn’t the reserved kind of man she was accustomed to. “He’s just really busy, is all.” As soon as she said it, she felt like an idiot making excuses for the asshole.
“Too busy to take you to a game? Too busy to kiss you?”
“He’s about to make partner at Cruz, Cruz, and Castle. Damn it, I don’t know why I’m making excuses for him.”
“Isn’t your last name Cruz?”
“Yeah, it’s my parents’ firm. That’s how we met.” Megan saw Jax roll his eyes, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. It’s the same thing that had been swirling through her mind lately.
