Jax: I was talking about those stuntmen who trained me, but sure, bro, you did okay too.
I chuckle and check on Mercy and Emma to be sure everything is still good before replying.
Me: Well, thanks for helping with Mercy. Try not to set anybody on fire tonight.
Jax: No promises, and don’t thank me. Get Rena here.
That slams into me. One more way the fault lines stay intact. Rena might be half an hour away, safe, and happy, but her absence at La Lun Noire is a hole we all feel, even the staff. She’s a light for all of us. The one our employees confided in, the one who drove us crazy and kept us sane in one fell swoop. But Jax is the one who needs her most.
Ashes and lies.
Me: I’ll work on it. You good?
Jax: Trying to be.
The only words of comfort I have are the same ones he extended to me.
Me: That’s all we can do.
“Does you coming back mean …” Emma begins when she notices my focus rising to them. “Is this finally something?”
“Yes,” I reply before Mercy can, and while Emma heard the rumors and suspects the truth, I stick with ourstory. “She was off doing amazing things, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I told her she was no longer my friend, that I wanted more, and that she had to return to New Orleans asmine.”
Mercy produces the ring after that, not as forthright as she had with Martina, but it doesn’t come across as forced, and a possessive beast roars to life inside me.
“How the hell did I miss that?” Emma yells over the music, examining Mercy’s finger. “Engaged? Makes sense. I went for the introverts, and you dreamed of a bossy man. I told you he was the one.”
I’ve always liked Emma.
“You did, but don’t inflate his ego.” Mercy beams across the booth at me, so I slide her back to the center and point her toward the appetizers she’s ignoring.
“Deflating egos is kind of my specialty.” Emma directs her sass to me. “So, in that case, I used to nag her about you two all the time, and she insisted she never thought about it, never dreamed of little Noires running amok, never fantasized of what the kings did down in Magie—”
“Emma,” Mercy cuts her off. “It’s good to see you. We should catch up. Just the two of us.”
“Message received.” Emma giggles and stretches toward her for another half hug just as Bryce sidles up to the table.
He kicks up his chin to me. “Hey, man. I apologize for the intrusion. Emma likes to chat.”
I appreciate that he isn’t trying to slip in an unscheduled conversation. Running into non-members in our public restaurants can often be tedious.
“No worries,” I assure him. “It’s good they caught up.”
“If I promise to behave,” Emma starts, wrapping her arms around his waist, “maybe the four of us could do something.”
“We’d love that,” Mercy says before we all exchange a goodbye. As they saunter away, she looks at me. “Is it me, or does New Orleans feel very small right now?”
“Well, it’s Saturday night, so … Let’s not breeze over the most important tidbit Emma dropped.” I clamp my hand over her thigh, mirroring her gesture from earlier as I inch north. “You never thought about miniature Noires running amok, huh?”
She likely expected me to harp on the mention of the sex club, but even if she’s surprised, she tries her damnedest to battle a smile. “Never. You?”
“Once or twice,” I admit, though it’s a lie. Hundreds of times would be accurate, and they always have her beautiful smile.
“I thought you never saw yourself in that family role. I mean, you did it with your siblings, but—” Her shoulders tense. “A clerk from Monroe’s office is here.”
I follow her line of sight, noticing a guy from the governor’s office. “You know, Monroe’s second term ended last year.”
Dalton’s father, Monroe Montgomery, was a beloved governor who served out his term in the nick of time. Otherwise, I would have terminated it for him.
