“Wow,they’ve kind of gone all out, haven’t they?” I muse as Jackson and I stroll into the chic, Hell’s Kitchen restaurant where Drew and Sullivan are holding their engagement party. It’s Sullivan all-over, that’s for sure. The decor is dark and refined, with slate gray floors, walls paneled in sleek, dark wood that looks almost black, and chandeliers hanging from sky high ceilings that give barely any light.
“I guess that’s what happens when you marry a billionaire,” Jackson murmurs wryly.
“I’m working on it, babe,” I say with a grin, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
God, he looks fucking edible tonight. Jackson is really not a formal attire kind of guy, usually opting for jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. He might occasionally pull a button down shirt from the depths of his closet if we’re going somewhere a bit trendier than usual, but the only other times I’ve seen him in a suit were my two graduations and Aaron and Kylie’s wedding.
He casts me a wary look. “You’d better not become a fucking workaholic like Sully and Spencer. I don’t see enough of you as it is.”
Fuck, isn’t that the truth. Even though we’ve been spending every night together this week, it still feels as though our time has been limited thanks to the hours I’ve been putting in at work. The feeling was accentuated today when I spent most of the day in the office with the other “first year grunts” combing through the mountains of discovery in search of any tiny thing that could help with the firm’s defense of one of our biggest clients, who is currently on trial for real estate fraud. It doesn’t exactly make me feel wonderful to be putting all this time and effort into helping a guy that in all likelihood scammed a bunch of innocent people into pouring all their savings into what they thought would be their dream home in a brand new apartment complex but turned out to be a shoddy, barely standing, rat infested dump—especially when the time and effort takes me away from Jackson—but as my criminal law professor always said: everyone’s entitled to a defense. And mega-rich assholes are entitled to be defended by one of the best firms in the country, apparently.
But I really shouldn’t be complaining. If I were that bothered by it I’d quit my job and go work for the DA, or the Innocence Project or something. My high horse is really more of a Shetland pony when you think about it.
I shift to face Jackson, letting go of his hand so I can bring my palms up to cup his cheeks, leaning in to brush a soft kiss against his lips. “Never. I know things are crazy right now, but it won’t always be like that,” I assure him.
Jackson smiles and leans in for more lip cuddles, causing tendrils of warmth to spread out from my heart and through my entire body. “If I could spend every second of the day with you, I would,” he murmurs. “But it’s a nice consolation knowing you’re finally living your dream. You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so proud of you, Sky.”
The love and affection and pride shining in his eyes makes my heart swell like a giant balloon. I’ll never get enough of that expression—the way his eyes light up when he looks at me. Any part of me.
He’s not like all the random guys I used to hook up with in my desperate search for validation. He doesn’t look at me with desire or hunger or need. With Jackson it’s more. It’s better.
I’ve never needed validation from him; his love for me has always been unerring and unconditional. When he looks at my body, it’s like he’s gazing upon something rare and precious. When he looks at my face, it’s like he’s lighting up from the inside. And when he looks into my eyes, it’s like he’s seeing his own soul reflected back at him. And I can see mine in his.
I pull him closer and kiss him again, wishing we could ditch this party and go home to make up for the alone time we missed out on today. I don’t even need to get off; I’d be happy just cuddling on the sofa and watching a movie. Jackson’s strong arms around me, his warm skin heating my back, his hand threading through my hair…nothing sounds better than that right now.
“Fucking hell, do you two want to actually join the party at some point or are you happy just staying here all night stealing our thunder?” I hear Sullivan’s deep voice growl.
I reluctantly pry my lips from Jackson’s and turn to find Sully glowering at us.
“Cheer up, buddy. I thought this was a happy occasion?” I say with a smirk.
He rolls his eyes. “Itshouldbe. Drewfinallydecides he’s ready to make this engagement official, and what do you two do? Give us all of two seconds to enjoy it before swooping in and stealing all the attention by finally getting together and being all adorable and coupley and shit.”
“They were coupley before they got together,” Cole points out, coming up beside Sullivan to join the conversation.
“That’s not the point,” Sully says, shooting his friend an annoyed look.
I quirk a brow at him, the corner of my lips curing up. “While I do enjoy being called adorable, I think this level of hostility is unwarranted considering your fiancé was the one who played cupid here,” I remind him, gesturing between Jackson and me. “Also, you guys have been engaged for six months…even if Drew was too chicken to admit it,”I add in a murmur under my breath.
“What was that?” Sully asks, a suspicious look on his face.
“Nothing,” I say, all innocent. “I just think if anyone could be accused of thunder-stealing here it’s you and Drew. How do you think Jackson and I feel, after all these years we finally discover our love for each other and now we have to attend a party in celebration of someone else?”
“Fucking hell, you’re such a lawyer,” Sully grumbles, while Cole shakes with silent laughter.
“Hey, congratulations, man,” Jackson says to Sully, reaching out to clap him on the shoulder.
Sullivan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Come on, Jax—let’s take our adorable, coupley selves into the party,” I suggest, taking his hand in mine and heading toward the sound of music and conversation.
“You just had to make a thing of it,” I hear Cole say to Sully from behind us, his voice full of amusement.
There’s a small staircase that leads down to the section of the restaurant where the party is being held, and as Jackson and I walk down, hand in hand, I actually feel a little twinge of regret for brushing Sully’s annoyance off so easily. Because the reality is, it’s not entirely unwarranted—not if the way half the party pause mid-conversation to turn their gazes on Jax and me, as thoughwe’rethe guests of honor, is anything to go by.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Jackson murmurs to me.
I flash a bright smile. “Because we’re so adorable.” Unable to resist, I lift my free hand to his cheek and turn his face toward me so I can press my lips to his.
