Amka close while you came to get me? I’m so sorry—”
“Relax,” he says with a grin, bending down to drop a quick kiss on my lips. “I’ve got it covered.”
Hudson steps aside as Jaxon opens the door and gestures for me to precede him. But I’m only a few steps into the library’s main room before I realize that I’ve messed up a lot more than an evening study date. I’ve messed up a date date, because sitting in the center of the room is a small, round table covered with a tablecloth, candles, and one of the most gorgeous bouquets of flowers I have ever seen.
“Well, well, well,” Hudson says, sauntering into the room, his hands shoved into his front pockets. “Isn’t this cozy? Tell Jaxon I’m overwhelmed, but he really shouldn’t have.”
42
Ben & Jerry Are the
Only Two Guys I
Want to Fight
Over
“Oh, Jaxon. You didn’t have to do this.” I walk toward the table, feeling more than a little bit fluttery as I take in the candles and the sparkling water on ice and the flowers. The really beautiful flowers. “They’re gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“I love them,” I correct him, burying my face in the white, lavender, and purple blooms. “They smell amazing.” I hold them out to him.
“I smelled them when I picked them out,” he says. “And it’s not that big a deal.”
I melt all over at his words, because it’s a huge deal for so many reasons.
One, he went through the trouble of organizing a dinner like this for me because he thought I would like it.
Two, he went through the trouble of finding flowers in the middle of Alaska and picked them out himself.
Three, he did this even though ours is the first real relationship he’s ever had—the first time he’s allowed himself to feel in more than a hundred years. How could I not fall for Jaxon when he reminds me, over and over again, just what good care he will take of me?
“They’re flowers, not a trip to Paris,” Hudson says as he grabs a book off the circulation desk and thumbs through the pages. There’s such annoyance in his movements that I totally ignore him. The night is young. There’s more than enough time for him to rain on my parade before I have to go back to my room.
“It’s a huge deal,” I answer them both, wrapping my arms around Jaxon’s waist and squeezing him tightly. “And I’m so sorry I forgot. I feel awful.”
“Don’t.” He gives me a soft smile as he brushes a curl back from my face. “You’ve had a rough few days. And there’s a microwave next to Amka’s desk. Your dinner is easy to reheat if we need to.”
“What did you get me?” I ask, my suddenly growling stomach a reminder that I’ve had very little to eat today.
Jaxon laughs at the rumble. “Come on, let’s get you seated and you can find out.”
He escorts me to the table, and I realize he’s done more than just candles and flowers. He’s gotten me street tacos in the middle of Alaska that look just like the ones from my favorite taqueria in San Diego. “How did you do this?”
“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” he answers with a grin.
“Yeah, but you definitely have to tell me this secret.” I pick one up and take a bite, relishing the way the familiar flavor explodes in my mouth. “I’m going to have to get these again soon.” I take another bite, so excited about this little taste of home that I’m not even pretending to have any restraint.
“Or you could keep me around, and I could get them for you anytime you want,” Jaxon suggests as he settles down next to me.
“Yeah, I could totally do that.” We grin into each other’s eyes for long seconds, my breath catching in my chest for all the right reasons this time—at least until Hudson walks over and interrupts with a disbelieving laugh.
“Meat? My brother got you meat as a gift?” He snorts as soon as Jaxon gets up to turn on some music.
I glare at Hudson and whisper-shout, “They’re not meat. They’re tacos. And—”
“Which are made up of meat, am I correct?” He starts circling the table like an attorney hell-bent on cross-examination. He even looks the part in his flawless dress shirt and dress pants.
“Okay, yes. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I love tacos.” I deliberately turn away from Hudson and back to Jaxon, who is