He chuckles, tossing me a wink that could probably melt steel. “Flavor, huh? Sure, if by flavor you mean an entire cup of sugar and cream with a dash of coffee. But whatever makes you happy.”
I reach over and wrap my arms around him from behind. “Hey, I just like my way, but I won't be mad at you for drinking your coffee black.” I tease softly, nuzzling him a little.
Beau, who’s quietly putting together breakfast, clears his throat with a grin. “Alright, lovebirds. The food’s ready.”
I watch him walk over to the table with three perfectly placed meals. He sets them down as if he were a trained server or something. He comes closer, presses his forehead gently to mine, and kisses me like he means it. The warmth of both of them around me makes my heart flutter.
“We figured since we kind of ruined our first Valentine's dinner last night, we’d make it up to you with breakfast.”
Jackson hands me and Beau our cups of coffee, and we make our way to the table. I take a moment to admire the layout Beau’s made — eggs, bacon, toast, and what looks like some perfectly crisped hash browns.
Beau takes his seat on one side of me and Jackson on the other. I look between them, a smile spreading across my face. “You two sure know how to make a girl’s heart race.”
Jackson leans in, his voice soft but playful. “We just know how to take care of our lady.”
I take a bite of bacon, savoring the flavors. Honestly, I don't think I’ve ever been this spoiled in my life. It feels like every moment with these two only gets better.
“Well, are you happy? Have we done our jobs?” Beau speaks up.
Before I can answer, Jackson pipes in, “Of course she's happy. Between the orgasms and breakfast, we're pretty great dudes.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through me. “You guys are impossible,” I say, taking another bite of eggs. “But you’re my impossible.”
Beau chuckles softly, digging into his own plate. “Damn right, babe. Don't ever forget it.”
I take another sip of my coffee, and Beau’s phone buzzes loudly on the table. He wipes his hands on a napkin and picks up his phone to read the message.
Almost instantly I notice the shift in his demeanor. His eyes flick over the screen slowly before widening. He stands up quickly, making his chair scrape against the floor.
“Jackson, we need to talk. Now,” Beau says, his voice low and tight. "In the bedroom.”
"What’s going on?” I ask, my gut tightening.
“Baby, you stay in the kitchen and enjoy your breakfast.” Beau pleads. His tone sounds almost reassuring, but it doesn't work. I can see the tension in his shoulders. “We can handle it. This is supposed to be your morning to relax.”
I don’t like the way he said that. I don’t like the way Jackson is staring at him as if they’re communicating with just looks.
“No,” I protest, my voice sharper than expected. “No more secrets between us, Beau. I don’t carewhat this is about. I’m done with the mysteries. Tell me what the hell the message was about right now.”
Beau and Jackson exchange a look. Their faces are loaded with a secret meaning. I feel that even after last night they still don't fully trust me, and that feels like a punch to the stomach. They're still making choices as if I'm not part of this, like last night didn't mean anything. Beau looks conflicted, like he wants to tell me, but is holding back because of how I might react.
Finally, he sighs and sits back down at the table, slumping in frustration. He slides the phone to Jackson without a word. Jackson takes the phone, his eyes scanning the screen.
The entire room feels like it’s holding its breath. Then, Jackson’s face shifts. His jaw hardens as his eyes narrow with a deep, unfamiliar tension that I've never seen before.
Jackson hands the phone to me. On the screen, the message is blunt and unmistakable.
I know who you are. I know where you've run. I want money. Or you'll wish you never took your whore into that bar.
It's like the words I just read punch me in the ribs. I can't breathe past them.
“Who the fuck is that?” I ask, my voice shaking. “What the hell is this?”
Neither of them speaks right away, Jackson’s eyes still locked on the phone in my hand. Beau’s face tightens in anger, his fingers twitching as if he wants to do something.
Finally, Jackson meets my eyes, his voice tight. “We thought we were safe here. I guess we were wrong.”
Beau’s hands fist on the table, his expression darkening. “This is why we didn’t want to drag you into this, Aria. It’s not just about us anymore. This is bigger than us, and we can’t afford for you to be in danger because of what we did.”
