Jax (Titan #9)(2)

"On that note…" Seven blew Jax a kiss while her fingernails scraped across the back of his silk shirt, hidden by his suit jacket she'd nuzzled into. Only a few inches separated her lips and his cheek, close enough that he could feel the shadow of heat on his skin. "I have to run. I'll see you if you come back to Iowa sometime."

He dropped his chin and whispered, "Mixed signals, babe."

"Good night, Jared." She extracted herself from Jax's side and turned on the sky-high heel that had first left Jax dazed in church. He'd said a prayer of thanks when he saw her walking down the aisle because she had no idea how much he'd needed to see her, those shoes, and that dress—but mostly her. Now Seven waltzed away as though she knew he couldn't stop staring.

"Don't look so surprised." Jared shook his head, cracking his knuckles against the side of the longneck. "She knows you."

She knows you… For as little as she did, Seven may have known him better than Titan.

A dark cloud coiled in his chest. Accusations of an often-recurring attitude problem echoed in his ears. Gone was the high of toying with Seven, the closeness of touching her, and the adrenaline burst from making her react.

"And your night is about to get worse," Jared warned as Jax caught Sugar, Jared's wife, making a beeline for them.

"I gotta roll also." If he thought some of his teammates were a pain in the ass, this woman had it in for him. He didn't need a liquor-fueled confrontation tonight. "But I'll have my phone on if anything unexpected pops up—"

"Too late." Jared laughed into his beer as Sugar's long stride made record time. "Should've just split."

"Jax." She coolly pursed her red lips together.

And have Jared chew his ass for that? Nope. "Looking nice tonight, Sugar."

The dark-haired, leather-clad fa?ade faded long enough for the ice queen to smile for her compliment. Then Sugar's suspicious smoky eyes narrowed. "There are more than enough biker bunnies here."

Sugar's social assessment of his behavior was Jax's cue to take cover, and he stepped away, giving no shits how obvious the duck-and-cover was. "There are. Good night."

She stepped forward, on the offensive. "Who would gladly say yes to whatever you offered Seven."

"Two witnesses, then." Jared rumbled with sarcasm. "I'll make sure Seven knows."

"Generous of you." With a quick wave, Jax ducked away and kept walking through the eclectic groupings of people.

The straightlaced mixed with the straightedge. All of Sweet Hills' community leaders mingled with 4-H Council leaders, who wore their best overalls and mud-scraped work boots. Then there were Titan Group and Mayhem MC, an odd combination of Ryder and Victoria's social circles, filled with former military, CIA spooks, and gang members of the motorcycle club variety.

Very few occasions—births, weddings, and funerals—could bring this assortment together without needing to call the police. Even the sheriff was on the dance floor, ignoring the outstanding warrants Jax assumed Mayhem had. The motorcycle club had to have a few with their guns and drug runners. Having worked a Titan op a couple years back and turning on national news regularly, Jax didn't believe the club's legitimate business ventures were anything more than a BS front.

He moved to the bar, and the bartender held up a shot glass that Jax regrettably recognized as Something Blue. "Never mind." He waved it away. "Water instead."

"No problem."

Jax threw down a tip for the open bar and glanced at the paper embossed with Victoria and Ryder. There would be so much hell to give Ryder about this Pinterest explosion, then Jax cringed that he knew what Pinterest was. He blamed his teammates and the pregnancies over the years.

"Anything else, buddy?" the bartender asked.

"No." Jax held out his water bottle. "Cheers to the day we stop pointing out the obvious. Pretty damn sure I know whose wedding this is."

The obvious surrounded him as the bartender moved on, and Jax obviously shouldn't have hit on Seven. Yet, the way she'd slid her arm under his suit coat said she obviously didn't mind their flirtations too much. Jax smiled around the top of his water bottle before taking another sip of water. After she'd slapped him, when they had been close enough to taste and tease, her breath startled for a second, surprised, as though maybe she couldn't believe she'd done that.

Tension had to erupt somehow… and, inhaling slowly, Jax wanted that panting breath next to his ear next time, with her thighs wrapped around—

"Need anything else?" the bartender asked again.

"No." He needed to bail and gulped his water, tugging at the already unbuttoned collar of his shirt. "Thanks, man."

The bartender's good night met his back as he left without so much as a goodbye to his teammates and walked out of the Sweet Hills Community Center.

Farm trucks mixed with minivans and rental cars in the parking lot, and at the front were two rows of Mayhem Harleys, the club's insignia on full display. But more interestingly, Seven was at the end of a row. Her hands were on her hips, and her brightly colored hair matched the angry expression on her face. She was pissed, which seemed par for the course. At least he wasn't the only guy there getting a dose of Seven's bitching as she stood behind an MC member leaned over a car.