Rules of Entanglement (30 page)

…

Vanessa knew that everything looked stunning, that the food was exquisite and the cake was like little bites of heaven. After all, she’d been the one to choose all of it during her many meetings with Robért. But that was the
only
reason she knew it. Nothing seemed to quite come into focus, and she couldn’t remember what any of the five courses tasted like.

From the moment she saw Jackson, she felt as though she’d been underwater. The world around her looked wavy, the conversations were muted and unclear, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never move fast enough to get away.

After the ceremony, she tried excusing herself to use the restroom, thinking she could sneak away long enough to avoid the dinner portion of the night where she’d be forced to sit across from Jackson and his stares that bored through her like fricking lasers. But she’d been swept along to pose for a million pictures where—thanks to the photographer, who was now on Vanessa’s hit list—she was forced to stand
with
Jackson and endure the heat of his hands on her waist and the smell of him in the air.

She’d braced herself for him to try and talk to her, to pull her aside or speak his mind where they stood, but he never did. He also never stood close enough that their bodies touched. She found it sadly ironic that she felt more bereft standing a mere three inches away from him than when she’d been thirty miles away.

She reminded herself that he was giving her exactly what she wanted. Relief should be lifting the huge weights off her shoulders, making it possible for her to breathe easily for the first time in days. But all she wanted to do was cry into a pillow until her ducts dried up and she passed out.

Once the pictures were finally over, she again tried to excuse herself, but the tidal wave of wedding organization that was Robért herded everyone, including her, to their seats at the long table. Bride and groom sat at the head with Vanessa to Lu’s right, Jackson to Reid’s left, and the rest of the guests filling in the other twelve spots.

Lucie had asked that she at least stay through dinner, and despite her attempts at escaping sooner, that’s what she did. And
now
she was getting the hell out of there before the first dance started and she was roped into dancing with her bridal party counterpart.

As the waitstaff began clearing the table of dishes, several people wandered over to the small tiki bar, including Eric and Kyle, her two best guy friends and dart league partners.
Perfect.
Vanessa pushed back from her seat. Lucie’s hand struck like a cobra, grabbing her wrist before she was even fully standing.

“Where are you going, Nessie?”

She smiled and nodded in the direction of the bar. “To talk to the boys and order a whole lot of something that rhymes with shequila.”

“Oh, okay. Hey, will you bring me back a beer? If I have any more champagne, I’ll have to look at my wedding album to remember anything.”

“Sure thing.” Or at least she’d send one of the guys back with one. Moving as fast as her beach shoes could carry her, she bee-lined it to the bar. After hugging the guys, she ordered a Patron on the rocks and didn’t begin to relax until she downed the first and ordered the second.

Kyle, her buff, blond, and bound-to-state-the-obvious friend didn’t disappoint. “So what’s with Lucie’s beau-hunk of a brother staring at you like you’re his last meal but you kicked him in the balls and ran away?”

Vanessa almost choked on an ice cube. “That’s the dumbest thing I think you’ve ever said.”

Eric, a solidly built Hispanic with black hair and too-observant chocolaty eyes, said, “No, the dumbest thing he ever said was when he told me certain things had become routine. He couldn’t sit without wincing for a week after that.”

“Which is why I consider it one of the
smartest
things I’ve ever said, babe.”

Listening to the familiar back and forth of Kyle goading Eric eased some of her tension. They’d been together since their college days and were as tight as any hetero married couple she knew. People who didn’t know them never guessed they were gay. Both men were extremely athletic and macho and neither were fans of PDA. But just like any group of close-knit friends, when they were hanging out with Vanessa and Lucie, not much was TMI. At least it had gotten her out of answering Kyle’s ridiculous inquiry.

As the guys continued to play-bicker about who did what intentionally, she glanced around, searching for Robért, who would no doubt usher her back within the reception parameters should she breach them.

“Good evening, everyone.”

Even facing away, there was no mistaking who the voice belonged to. Her body betrayed her the minute the sound entered her ears, bypassed her brain, and traveled straight south to settle between her legs. Clenching her thighs together, she turned just as Jax stood and reached into his breast pocket for a folded sheet of paper.
The best man speech.
The perfect time for her to slip away. All eyes would be on him and his would be on the happy couple. She’d just wait a minute for everyone to get settled, and then she’d make her move.

A hand closed around her elbow as another landed on her lower back and led her toward the reception table. The Wedding Nazi had found her. “Robért, I was fine where I was,” she stage-whispered.

“Nonsense, it’s toast time. The maid of honor has to be up there with the best man.”

Vanessa had no choice but to go along unless she wanted to cause a scene. After depositing her next to Lucie, Robért went off in search of his next mission. Letting out a discreet sigh of frustration, Lucie faced Jackson and feigned a happy interest. The idiot winked at her and turned to face the group.

“On behalf of Reid and Lucie, I’d like to thank you all for being here to help make their day special as they begin their new life together. As a fighter, I know that you can only do so much planning and prep for your opponents. You can study their moves, their strategies, learn how to defend and counter. But the truth of the matter is, when you step inside that cage, you never know what that guy is going to throw at you. You have to accept, adjust, and execute.

“Love is no different,” Jackson said, the sound of his deep voice washing over her on the salty breeze. “Growing up, we imagine the type of person we’ll someday fall in love with, and over time, we try our best to execute our plans to find—or for us commit-aphobes, avoid”—polite, muted laughter met his last comment—“that person.

“But just as a fighter can’t predict what an opponent will do as he works to execute his plan, we can’t predict what love will throw our way as we search for that perfect person.” Eyes alight with the setting sun met hers, melting her resolve from the inside out. “And more often than not, who we
think
we need isn’t at all who we
really
need.”

Jackson turned his head to address the couple. “Case in point, our very own Reid and Lucie. If they hadn’t accepted what love was throwing their way and adjusted their points of view, Reid would still be a miserable bachelor denying his passion for art, and Lucie would be married to a narcissistic surgeon who wouldn’t know true beauty if it bit him on the ass.”

Laughs and murmurs of agreement rose from the guests. Lucie’s cheeks were moist from tears, but the smile she’d worn all day was still in place and the only way Reid could get any closer to her was if he pulled her onto his lap.

Clapping a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, Jackson continued. “I’m incredibly thankful that my best friend and my sister were smart enough to adjust and accept their love for each other.” His hand dropped and his eyes found Vanessa’s again. “But what about the future? Relationships have ups and downs just like everything else. One minute you’re winning and on top of the world…”

Jackson swallowed hard, pausing like he’d forgotten what came next.
Or like it’s too hard to say.
A tightness spread through her chest just as he came back to himself, but the last part of his sentence only made the pressure worse. “…and the next minute you’re knocked out, fighting against the darkness and wondering where the hell things went wrong.”

Just when Vanessa thought she couldn’t take any more—that she needed to stop him or she’d crumple where she stood from her bleeding heart—his speech took a left turn.

“So I wanted to give them some advice that might help them in the future, and I came up with a list of seven things. I guess you could call them rules…”

“Oh no.” Vanessa clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. She’d blurted it out and now everyone was staring at her as ice shot through her veins. He was going to mock her. Right here, right now, in front of all her friends. Seeing as she’d already made a fool of herself, she skirted around the happy couple to Jackson’s side.

She tried not to notice the guests whispering guesses as to what was going on.
The best man’s hijacking the fucking wedding,
that’s
what’s going on.
Damn him, this wedding wasn’t about them or what they did or didn’t want…

God, you are such a hypocrite, Nessie.

She’d been doing exactly that all damn day, trying to leave because she felt uncomfortable around Jackson. How fricking selfish could she be? Lucie should have told Vanessa to take a flying leap off a tall cliff hours ago, hell,
yesterday
even, but her friend was too kind for that.

So, yes, she felt slightly schmucky about all that, but at least Vanessa only intended on excusing herself from the party. She never would’ve dreamed to make the wedding a public forum for her relationship problems like an episode of
The Jerry Springer Show
. The whole thing was so ludicrous, she didn’t have the words.

Oh, who was she kidding? Yes, she did.

Stepping in close to keep her voice low, she angled her body away from the crowd and said, “Jackson, this is so completely and utterly unacceptable to do this to Lucie and—”

“It’s okay, Nessie.” Vanessa looked down at Lucie’s hand covering hers, then sought the hurt that would surely show in her friend’s eyes but found none. “Reid and I gave him the idea.”

“You
what
?” she whispered.

“Bitch me out later, Ness. Right now you need to listen to my brother.”

“Yeah, and make it quick, will ya? I’d like to dance with my wife.” Reid pulled Lucie closer to his side. “Before I need a hip replacement would be nice,” he added wryly. That earned him a discreet elbow to the ribs.

Speechless. They’d rendered her one hundred percent speechless. Which gave Jackson the perfect opportunity to carry out whatever asinine plan he had up his sleeve. Once again he addressed the crowd.

“As I was saying, I created a list of rules I’d like Reid and Lucie to have if they ever lose their way…” Jackson sought her out with intense eyes, and she was helpless to do anything but meet them. “…and need to find their way back.”

Damn him. Damn him and his amber eyes and his silver tongue.

He faced her and, if it was anywhere in the realm of possibilities, almost looked…nervous.

And if that was the case, then it explained why she was damn near jumping out of her skin with anxiety. Countless scenarios—good, bad, ugly, and horrifying—spun in her mind like Tasmanian devils on speed. Her heart had somehow escaped her ribs because she felt it beating faster and faster just under the surface of her skin, and her lungs must have collapsed because she couldn’t draw a full breath. Her organs were failing, the apocalypse was at hand, they were all doomed
and holy shit what the hell is wrong with me!

Jax placed a large, warm hand at her hip and leaned in until his cheek kissed hers and his mouth rested close to her ear. “V, take some deep breaths for me, honey.” His tone lacked the gruffness he used during more intimate times, but it was still heavy and commanding enough to trigger her desire to obey, to let go.

With him coaching her softly, she managed to slow her heart rate and fill her lungs to capacity, banishing her panic attack and preventing what would certainly have been an embarrassing moment if she’d completely lost it. She felt his hand brush her hair over her shoulder, letting his fingertips glide lightly over the shell of her ear and down her neck. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, before placing a discreet kiss at her temple and pulling away.

“Don’t you mean ‘crazy woman’?”

“Uh-oh. Someone’s been talking to the locals.” At least he had the decency to wince. “Come on, it’s kind of funny. You thought it sounded pretty.”

“I
also
thought pupule wahine was a term of endearment,” she whispered a little too loudly. Snickers and giggles wafted up from the peanut gallery.

“Can you berate me for your nickname later?”

“Absolutely. I’ll add it to the growing list of things I plan on berating you for later.”

That time she heard a snort, pronouncing her best friend’s amusement of the dressing-down of her big brother. Vanessa crossed her arms and arched a single brow, daring him to finish what he started, though she wanted more than anything for him to spontaneously lose the gift of speech.

Clearing his throat, Jax glanced at their rapt audience, took a deep breath himself, and began. “I call this ‘Jackson’s Lucky Seven Rules to Love By.’ Rule #7:
Always
be one hundred percent honest. Even if it means you can’t pretend to be engaged to the most beautiful woman on the island.”

She inhaled sharply. He peered up from the paper briefly then continued.

“Rule #6: Always own up to your mistakes. Even if you weren’t that late and planned on buying her lunch to make up for it.”

“Rule #5: Always negotiate in terms of forever. Even if she gives you a little more Hyde than Jekyll.” He gave their rapt audience an audacious wink. “The crazy just adds spice.”

Everyone laughed at that one. If they kept this up, she’d wind up with them voting her off the island like a bad mash-up of
Survivor
and
The Love Connection
.

“Rule #4: Always use your fists in the cage and to protect her if necessary, but never bring violence into your life.” Jackson picked up her hand and cradled it against his chest. “Even if she’s strong enough to take care of herself.”