Acts of Desperation(26)

I took my seat and watched as Jax walked around the table. He slipped out of his black leather jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. His gray Henley outlined his muscular chest, triggering memories of his dressing room performance, and I felt my skin flush thinking about what happened after. His distressed jeans clung perfectly on his hips, slightly hugging his thighs. When he sat down, he gave me a sly grin, and I wondered if he was reading my mind.

We talked over the menu, and when our server came up, Jax handled the rest. He ordered the spinach artichoke dip to start, and then a club sandwich for me and a gourmet burger for himself. The Oregon pinot noir he added at the end was the most expensive on the menu, and I couldn’t wait to try it.

When our server left, he was starting to tell me a story about a baseball game Fritz took him to one summer, but his ringing phone interrupted his story. He pulled it out and looked briefly at the screen before silencing it.

“Everything ok?” I asked. His expression told me he seemed bothered by the call.

“It’s just work,” he said, avoiding eye contact and hiding his unease behind a smile.

“On a Saturday night?” I asked.

“For me, it never seems to stop.” He smirked. “I’ll just shut this off so it doesn’t distract me anymore and I can focus on you.” He scrolled through his phone. He read a text that chimed in then scowled and turned it off. Just as he was sliding it back into his pocket, our server returned with our bottle of wine and filled our glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he said, holding up his glass, “and to where the night takes us.”

I chuckled a little and tapped my glass against his. “To new beginnings.”

My first glass of wine went down easily while he finished telling me his story about Fritz and my phone call with John was now a faded memory. The conversation flowed so freely that before I even realized, I was well into my second glass—which was technically my third if you count what I had back at the house. I started to feel tipsy and thought about the conversation we had over lunch the previous day. It was at this point that my lips loosened up and my internal filter completely disappeared.

Without so much of a thought, I said, “So, what did you leave in New York?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, confused.

Realizing my question probably came out of left field, I said, “You know? The skeleton you’d prefer not to talk about. You mentioned it at lunch yesterday.” As soon as his face fell, I regretted saying it. I cursed myself and resigned to drink some water to prevent further disasters.

He swirled his wine around in his glass, pausing for a beat. “The past is the past, and I don’t want to relive it,” he said and threw back the wine in his glass.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s the wine.” Then there was an uncomfortable silence. I scooted my chair back and excused myself to the ladies room. He was about to say something, but I stopped him before he could start. “Be right back,” I said and smiled.

On my way to the restroom, I called myself various names but idiot seemed to be the one that popped up most often. I washed my hands and fixed my hair and took a few extra minutes trying to sober up. When I started my walk back from the bathroom, I was so lost in my thoughts that I knocked elbows with a man walking in my direction. I excused myself, but he only glared at me over his shoulder. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I quickly dismissed it, and reminded myself to watch where I was going. In my state, there was no telling what kind of damage I could do.

When I stepped through the archway of our kiln and walked to our table, Jax stood up. “Hey,” he said and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I smiled.

“No, it’s not,” he said and gave me a weak smile. “I ordered us another bottle of wine and our food came while you were gone. What do you say we eat and you tell me about your day then after dinner we can go outside to the fire pit and you can ask me whatever you want?”

“There’s a fire pit outside?” I asked.

“Our waitress mentioned it when she brought the food. There’s supposed to be a band out there in a bit too,” he said.

“Sure.” I smiled. “That sounds nice.”

The rest of our meal passed with ease. We laughed, we ate, and we drank more wine. I sipped sporadically on my water, but before I knew it, I’d consumed another glass of wine. When we were finished, Jax laid out a generous tip, and I stood from my seat. That, unfortunately, was when I lost my balance and hit the proverbial wall. I grabbed the back of my chair to steady myself and took a deep breath, but it was useless—I was completely drunk.

Jax walked around behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Are you ok?” he whispered in my ear.

“Hmm? Yep. Fine. I probably should have stopped after the first bottle. The wine’s caught up to me a little I think,” I said, leaning my weight back against his hard chest.

“Maybe I should take you home then.”

“What?”

“We should probably call it a night.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but I wasn’t.

Jax smirked then led me carefully by the hand through the restaurant and outside to the car. When he opened the car door for me, I turned and tried to salvage the evening.