Page 87 of Sweet Surrender

Those words along with the look in his eyes have my heart fluttering in my chest.

He’s not supposed to make me feel this way. His words aren’t, the looks he gives me shouldn’t, and yet since the first moment we met, hasn’t that been what’s been happening?

“I know, I know,” he says as I am dying to hear the other side of the conversation and try to motion for him to put the call on speaker. He just grins, his dimples deepening, and keeps it to his ear in an act of playful defiance. “And we apologize for not including you in the big day. I know to you it feels like it was impulsive and reckless but—” His eyes light up as he listens to her. “Yes. I agree completely. Sometimes you just can’t stop love when it’s as strong as ours.” He chuckles and lifts his eyebrows at me like my mother is out of her mind. She very well could be. “Well, Nosy Natalia is right. She’s quite the social media sleuth. Hendrix and I met and it’s been a storm brewing beneath the surface over the months waiting for the right time to erupt.”

“Erupt?” I mouth to him and groan.

“I’d like to call it more of a surrender of our wills. A sweet surrender,” he says and when his eyes find mine, the softness in them hits me squarely in the gut. “But your neighbor is wrong. Hendrix isn’t pregnant. This wasn’t a shotgun wedding for that reason.” He nods his head. “Hmm. Yes, well, she definitely has a temper and a lot of fight in her, but that’s part of the reason I love her. She learned her lesson with Paul—” He laughs. “I stand corrected—with Fucktard—and she won’t ever allow herself to be treated like that again. And sure as shit, not by me.”

There is a pause as I adjust my towel, drawing his eyes again.

“One hundred percent agree.” He nods and his eyebrows furrow. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What is she telling you?” I whisper-yell, partially dying inside over everything she’s oversharing with him.

By the time he hangs up, he’ll probably know who my first kiss was, that I wore braces forever, and was a total dork in high school.

His grin just widens when he knows I’m curious. “I know. Definitely.” His eyes meet and hold mine again. “She said yes and I had to jump at the chance before she realized I wasn’t worthy of her.”

He laughs loudly but sincerely. Clearly, my mom has turned on her own charm with him because his cheeks are heating and he’s running a hand over the back of his neck.

“She does work too hard. But sometimes dreams are that way. Hmm, yes. But don’t worry. I’ll be convincing her to hire some help for the shop so she can breathe a bit easier.” He barks out another laugh. “And yes, to have more time to make grandbabies for you, although I’m a firm believer in enjoying your marriage first.”

My face feels like a furnace just exploded in my head and no doubt my cheeks are beet red. My mother is talking to Jase about sex. About babies. About . . . can I just die now?

Please.

“Sounds good. I look forward to officially meeting you too. We’ll figure it out. I promise.” He holds the phone out to me and I shake my head violently. I am not prepared for the lie-fest to my mother. Especially when I’m standing in a towel and his eyes are as hungry as they are. “She’s right here. Yes.”

I level him with a glare as he hands me the phone. I push the mute button. “I told you not to give it to me.”

His grin falls lopsided. “I’m just hoping you get so wrapped up in talking to her that your towel falls loose.”

I roll my eyes and laugh. Such a guy. But damn his words make me feel good. I unmute the call as I hold the towel in place with my other hand. He made me talk to my mom. He’s not seeing shit.

“Mom. Hi. I knew you’d be calling.”

“You said for me to know that you were okay. You didn’t tell me you were marrying a rock star,” she screeches. “I’m beginning to think we don’t communicate well.”

“Oh, Mom.” I sigh, but my smile is real. As is the pat on my ass that Jase gives as he walks by.

“Oh, Mom, is right. You’re lucky I don’t hop on a plane and visit you right this minute to give you two a huge congratulations hug. Now you better tell me everything and not leave a single thing out, or I’m going to make that threat a reality.” She tsks. “You tell me you have some huge order to fulfill when in fact you were planning a wedding.”

“I do have a huge order. One thousand cookies for a dog’s birthday party. That was planned. The wedding . . . not so much.”

“About that. I’m going to need some more details to understand this.” Silence falls on the line. “I’m waiting, young lady.”

Oh boy.

Let the lying commence . . .

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Hendrix

The days blur together. Between the continuous orders coming in and the influx of people who suddenly care about my bakery—mostly looky-loos hoping to catch a glimpse of Jase when he’s never set foot in here to begin with—I barely have time to breathe, let alone revel in this newfound, albeit temporary, success.

Jase was right. I need help. I can keep up with the orders, but it’s the orders and the customers and the ridiculous questions being asked—so someone can snap a sneaky pic of me—that I can’t do.