Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter 3) - Page 13/64

“Just water for me, thank you.”

“Looks like it will be just water for both of us, who doesn’t have a corkscrew?”

“Joe’s son is more of a beer type guy.”

Filling two wine glasses with water, Jax sets them on the table and looks up at me. “What makes a guy a beer type guy?” He asks with a playful, crooked grin. He pulls out a chair and stands behind it, waiting for me to sit, before he takes his own seat across from me.

I think for a minute. It’s difficult to put a “type” of guy into words, you just know it when you come across him. “The type that doesn’t pull out my chair at the table,” I offer with a smirk.

Jax chuckles at my definition and responds, “I didn’t realize manners matched with beverage preference.”

“I think it might, Mr. Knight.”

One eye arches in surprise, questioning, waiting for more.

“The doorman, the driver, the penthouse suite…just feels more like Mr. Knight than Jax.”

He nods, but stays silent.

“Why is it I feel like I’m missing a few pieces to the puzzle?” There’s a shift in him when I ask the question. He looks at me, searching, deliberating over his response. But too much thinking hinders an unfettered response, so I push a bit.

“Well…” I wait expectedly.

Drawing a deep breath in, Jax begins, “My father is a Senator. You’ve probably seen his face on TV…in the papers. Preston Knight. He’s been in the news lately. A lot. For some pretty crappy stuff he did. His story made headlines six months ago when it came out he had an illegitimate son. My half-brother is Vince Stone, reigning MMA Middleweight Champ. The story broke right after Vince won the title. Took my family by surprise. Things had just started to settle down finally after six months. Then my father decides to announce he is running for re-election the same day it’s announced Vince is hosting the MMA Open and the media circus started right back up again. And somehow that makes me newsworthy by association.”

I nod, not knowing exactly what to say. “So you thought you’d get some peace here in New York while you checked out the gym and the press found you?”

Jax feigns a conciliatory smile. “I live in D.C., I changed hotels twice there, thought maybe if I came to New York for a while, I could get away from the circus.”

“Your plan seems to be working well,” I quip, full of teasing sarcasm, before biting into a ravioli from my plate.

Both Jax’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised at my comment, but he looks amused too. “Watch it, or I won’t let you do me any more favors, you keep being a smartass like that.”

“Oh my god.” I close my eyes to savor the taste on my tongue, it’s just that good. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten, what’s in them?”

Jax smiles knowingly. “Brown butter lobster ravioli.”

“God, if I was a dog, I’d be wagging my tail. They’re heavenly.”

He laughs. “It’s the only reason I stay at that hotel when I come into town.”

Swallowing another forkful of the sinfully delicious pasta I’ve shoved into my mouth, I tease, “So it’s not for the marble floors and three bathrooms?”

Jax arches one eyebrow, “Snooped around while you were there, I see.”

I feel the pink color flush on my face. Sheepishly, I respond, “Sorry. I’ve never seen anything like it, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasing.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I didn’t say I was going to answer, but you can definitely ask me anything you want,” he chuckles.

I ball up my napkin and throw it across the table, hitting him in the nose.

“Very mature.” Jax smiles, lifting his tall glass of water, he dips his fingers into it, and flicks them at me. Water drops hit my cheeks, nose, and forehead.

Eyes wide, surprised by his action, I squint, staring at him for a few seconds. He holds my gaze, his face showing he’s feeling sure of himself. Never breaking eye contact, I reach across the table and fork his ravioli onto my utensil, quickly shoving the whole thing into my mouth.

Shaking his head, he reaches over to my plate and steals one of my two meatballs, shoving the entire large globe into his mouth.

When he finishes chewing, he reaches over to my plate, cutting the other meatball in half and bringing it to his lips. “So what question did you want to ask me?” He grins, before taking the half meatball into his mouth.

Following his lead, I reach over to Jax’s plate, cut his meatball in half and bring it almost all the way to my lips before speaking. “Why do you need such a huge hotel suite, if you’re just one person?” I eat the half meatball, waiting for his answer. God, it’s delicious too.

Jax reaches over to my side of the table, his fingers wrapping around my water glass, he brings it to his mouth and downs almost half the glass, returning it to my side of the table. He shrugs, “I have absolutely no idea.”

His honest answer takes me by surprise. “Seems like a waste,” I declare.

He smiles and then concedes, “It is a bit excessive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Knight. It is.” I chide playfully.

Jax tells me a little bit more about his father, but most of it I knew from my snooping of the newspaper article in his suite. Plates bare, we finish dinner eating each other’s meal without ever discussing our actions verbally, but the smiles exchanged speak volumes.

After dinner, we clean up together, storing all the leftovers in the refrigerator. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for sharing yours with me,” Jax smirks, leaning casually against the counter, arms folded across his chest. We’re both quiet for a moment. There’s a shift in the air, a tension I breathe in that spreads warmth throughout my body. I feel his eyes on me, watching me intently.

“I should go.”

One of Jax’s arms reaches out to me and hooks around my neck. “Come here.”

Lips parted, I take a deep breath in as he pulls me closer to him. His face six inches from mine, he stops. Looking into his pale blue eyes, I get lost for a minute. The hand not around my neck, reaches up and his thumb rubs the side of my mouth.

“Sauce,” he whispers through his grin.

“Ummm…thanks.” He releases his grip around my neck, but his hand lazily slides down my spine where the other arm joins, locking around my waist, keeping me close. I know I should step away, but electricity tingles all over my skin. And the way he looks at me, so intense and focused, my eyes lock on to his and everything else blurs in the background.