“Dude.” Wes’s boots came into view. “You okay?”
Jax nodded, unable to speak.
Fuck. That had hit him out of nowhere.
He’d been repressing everything so completely—how much he missed her, how empty he felt without her, how she was better off without him—it lashed back on him now like a whip.
He finally looked up and met Rubi’s frown but was still breathing hard when he asked, “Is…Lexi…okay?”
Rubi studied him with intense blue-green eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and humor. She wore skintight blue jeans that showed the perfect shape of her highway-long legs, heels that made those legs look even longer, and a halter top that showed both her flat belly and her cleavage.
Jax’s guys were tripping over themselves to take in every inch of her.
She turned to them, offered a flirtatious smile. “Can we have a minute, boys?”
The guys wandered back to their gear, muttering to each other, laughing quietly. Everyone except Wes. He crossed his arms and kept grinning like an idiot.
“You think you’re special,” she asked Wes, “don’t you, Golden Boy?”
“I know I’m special.” Wes’s grin widened. “Just ask my mama.”
That pulled a deep, rolling laugh from Rubi. She might mesmerize every other man on the site, but her playfulness was bugging the shit out of Jax.
“Wes.” Jax pulled his friend’s attention. “Get lost.”
Wes turned a lazy gaze back on Rubi. “Dinner sometime, beautiful?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Last I heard, you were taken.”
He lifted a shoulder. “We’re on a break.”
“Sorry…Wes.” Rubi drew out his name in a voice that he thought would make Wes drop to his knees, but his friend just kept grinning. “I’m not a break kinda girl. Besides, I hear you like sweet. And, handsome”—she lowered her lids—“I’m not the least bit sweet.”
“If Chamberlin can go from sour to sweet”—Wes drew a business card from his wallet—“I can certainly change my tastes to something on the tangy side.”
“Are you two done?” Jax straightened, used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and rested his hands at his hips. “We’ve got work to do here.”
“Ignore him.” Wes sauntered over to Rubi. “He’s grouchy when he’s not getting any.”
“Wes,” Jax warned.
When Rubi ignored Wes’s card, he slid it along the edge of her halter and tucked it beneath the fabric at the curve of her breast. “My tastes are changing as we speak. Besides, I know there’s a lot more sweet beneath that tart surface than you let on. I bet you’d set my taste buds on fire.”
“You bet your rock-hard ass I would,” Rubi returned.
Wes started toward the trailer, yelling at the others, “Is it hot out here?”
He caught the bottle of water one of them threw, uncapped it and, walking backward, grinned at Rubi as he poured the water over his head.
The guys bust out laughing. And Rubi sputtered a surprised chuckle. “He is a character.”
Jax shifted on his feet. His fear had transitioned into annoyance. “Rubi, is Lexi okay?”
She pulled the card from her top and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. When she looked back at Jax, her expression had sobered. Her serious gaze seemed to penetrate him. “Lexi’s a survivor.”
That wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. That made it sound like she was struggling. He wanted Rubi to tell him that she was great. That him leaving her was the best thing that had ever happened in her life.
“Why are you here?”
She pulled a square white envelope from beneath the cross of her arms. “She asked me to deliver this.”
From five feet away, Jax could see his full name on the envelope. He didn’t like the look of that. Wedding invitations came in envelopes like that.
They’d only been apart six weeks… She couldn’t have found…
But then Jax realized he and Lexi had gone from zero to sixty in about the same amount of time, and a spear of anxiety pierced his chest.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Find out for yourself. Lexi instructed me not to open my big mouth.”
Jax took the envelope and stared at his name printed in Lexi’s hand.
“And since she’s the sister I never had and I love her more than anyone,” Rubi said, strolling back toward the Ferrari, “I’m not going to tell you that Lexi deserves stability in her life. I’m not going to tell you that she’s worthy of a guy who can merge all his sides into one unique and outstanding person the way she has.”
She opened the Ferrari door, holding his gaze. Hers was serious, deep, showing a side of her Jax guessed not many people noticed beneath all her flash and beauty. Showing him the side of her that he guessed Lexi loved so much.
“I’m not going to tell you to ignore this invitation if that’s not you,” she said. “I’m just going to keep my mouth shut, like I promised. And, by the way, thanks for taking care of that shit photographer.”
She turned on the sparkle, blew a kiss to Wes, who dramatically acted out getting shot in the heart and fell to the cement to the laughter of the group.
“What a hottie,” she said, affection and longing softening her voice. “Too bad I don’t go for those mama-lovin’, sun-streaked country boys who adore sweet women.”
Rubi slid into her sports car, slipped on sunglasses, and turned over the engine.
Jax didn’t move as she roared from the cement canal, and thought about the photograph that had changed everything. He’d hired a private investigator who had gotten to the bottom of it within the twelve hours he’d promised Lexi. Hardly compensation for all the trouble and stress he’d caused her, but all he’d been able to do, other than getting the hell out of her life.
Wes turned from watching the car go and settled his gaze on Jax. One look and he turned toward the guys. “I think it’s lunchtime.” Then yelled toward the bridge. “Troy, get your ass down here. We’re eating out today.”
A loud whoop sounded behind Jax, followed by the shrill grind of Troy sliding down his cable. The rest of the team loaded into nearby trucks, arguing over where they’d eat.
Wes strolled up to Jax and looked down at the invitation. “Let me just tell you now, if that’s for Lexi’s wedding, I quit.”
Jax scowled up at Wes.
“You’ve been hell to live with, dude.” Wes gave him a pitying half grin. “I won’t be able to stand you.”
“You’re not all joy and sunshine yourself,” Jax said to Wes’s back as he headed toward one of the trucks.
Wes flipped him off.
Jax waited until the guys were on the road to pull off his gloves and open the envelope. His dirty hands turned the pristine cream envelope gray and left a streak across the torn flap. He couldn’t help but feel like that symbolized how opposite they were—Lexi all light and promise, Jax all grunge and shadow.
Jax took a deep breath and slid the card inside halfway out.
You are cordially invited to
The Luxe Couture Bridal Show
Jax released the air he’d been holding. The tension left his body, and he bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees again.
He closed his eyes and swore at the relief coursing through him. Jax struggled to get his air back, then pulled the card the rest of the way out of the envelope. His hand was shaking.
The invitation gave the date in less than a week, the time, the location, and allowed him to bring a guest.
As if.
At the bottom, Lexi had handwritten a note.
If you come, come as you are.
Twenty-Six
“Lexi.”
Lexi stopped fussing with a strand of lace that wouldn’t fall right on the dress worn by the fifth model, Kylie, and looked toward Rubi’s voice. She stood near one of the makeup tables in the LaCroix section backstage at the Luxe Couture Bridal Show. On one side of the space, makeup tables with mirrors and lights lined the wall. On the other stood small dressing spaces separated by black drapes, each with the model’s assigned gowns and accessories and a dressing assistant standing by.
Rubi gestured to the hairpiece she was helping a stylist place in another model’s hair.
Lexi squinted, assessing. “Nice, thank you.”
The young woman in the chair stood and started toward her dressing area.
The models lined up along the space, all lace and sparkle, tulle and satin.
“No,” Lexi said, “Carly goes before Stephanie.”
The girls changed positions in the lineup. Lexi moved to the front of the line. The third model, a stunning sixteen-year-old who looked twenty-five at the moment in professional makeup, sparkles in her hair, and a ten-thousand-dollar couture wedding gown, turned toward her with a serious expression.
Lexi scanned the dress, adjusted the fall of one shoulder, pulled the lace taut over her abdomen. “Happy brides, okay?”
The girl broke into a gorgeous, nearly authentic smile. Lexi breathed out and shook her head. “Stunning.”
The smile reached the girl’s bright blue eyes.
She went down the line, inspecting each girl. By the time she reached Rubi putting the final touches of makeup on the last model, Lexi pressed a hand to her stomach.
“I want to puke,” she murmured.
“I’m almost done here. I’ll go see if I can find him.”
“I don’t know if I want to know whether or not he’s here.”
“Your choice, but I have to know.” Rubi called to another makeup artist messing with the collar of the lead model’s dress. “Doug, take over here. I’ll be right back.”
Doug rushed over and took the finishing powder and brush from Rubi’s hands, then back to the front of the line, prepared to douse any shining surface.
Lexi ignored Rubi as she turned out of the room. “Focus,” she reminded herself. “This is your career.”
But Lexi already knew she couldn’t change anything now. All the plans and props were in motion. The dresses made. The choreography decided. The models rehearsed. She’d made this decision weeks ago.
Now it was all or nothing.
Now, Lexi just had to let go, the way Jax had taught her to let go.
As the applause out front died down and the announcer started speaking again, Lexi turned on autopilot. She shut down all peripheral thought, focused on the moment, and moved to the front of the line.
She put a hand on Naomi’s arm, smiled at the eighteen-year-old beauty and said, “Happy brides. Best day of your life. Cloud nine.”
Naomi beamed. Her dark skin sparkled with glitter, mouth painted the same color as the girl’s crimson leather gloves.
The music cued, and Lexi squeezed Naomi’s arm. “Go, sweetheart.”
Jax wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d expected, even though his best Armani suit jacket was too tight and his suit pants too loose. His stunt work had honed his body over the past few years. But beyond the discomfort of wearing a suit, he had to admit he was enjoying himself. As much as a man preparing to grovel could enjoy himself.