Reckless (Forever 6)

I took a quick look under a couple of plates: one had a sushi roll, beautifully plated. The next was covered in a thick slab of chocolate cake. It didn’t look like party food—but it did look delicious, especially since I’d barely eaten all day because I’d been worried about Jax avoiding me. Add in the intense cowbell-playing, and I was practically dying for a bite.

"There’s enough to feed an army here," I said, puzzled, as I set the covers back down. "Why all the food? Are the roadies coming to the party, too?"

"Well, I figured we didn’t have to eat like we were on the road," Jax called back to me as he walked to the bar. "You’ve been eating like a bird on the tour bus," he continued, changing the subject. "Maybe now you can find something you’ll enjoy."

I blushed, embarrassed. "I eat," I said quickly. "It’s just, when I’m stressed and working, sometimes I forget. And sometimes I’m not hungry. But it’s sweet of you to notice."

"Mmhmm. But tonight, you’re not working. So relax." He started looking over the bar. This time, I couldn’t tell what he was making. Judging by the strangely shaped bottles he was picking—and the blender he got out from beneath the bar—I could tell it wasn’t his usual Godfather. He looked back up from the bottles to where I was standing. "Go ahead, pick something good."

I lifted the lids one by one. The first covered dish held a thick burger, while the one next to it had scallops. There was a lot of food, but none of it was as exciting as the room itself. When I lifted the tenth cover and found a fruit plate, I shrugged. "Close enough," I said, bringing the melon and grapes back to the bar and taking a seat on a stool.

Jax was busy adding ingredients to the blender. "What’s that?" I asked as I popped a grape into my mouth, watching the liquids blend together.

He poured syrupy, light amber liquid from the blender into two champagne flutes. "It’s your drink," he said, then popped a cork on a bottle of sparkling wine and topped each glass with its bubbly contents. "I call it . . . The Riley."

He invented a cocktail for me? "Well, it’s a good name. What’s in it?"

"Plum puree, champagne . . . and black pepper vodka," he said. "Like I said, it’s your drink."

I eyed the amber liquid curiously. The drink, the private tour, none of it made sense. Why was he acting so nice? And how could he be so sure I’d like the drink he’d made? With the pepper and dry champagne, it looked nothing like the usual, cloyingly sweet cocktails most guys assumed girls preferred.

It was also something I might have ordered if I’d seen it on a menu—and he’d made it after knowing me for only a little while. But how had he guessed my favorite fruit?

"I get the pepper," I replied, "And the champagne, for the hot tub. But what about the plum?"

"Did you forget that night I gave you the back massage? You were eating a plum then."

I felt my cheeks getting hot. "Oh, right. I’d almost forgotten."

His eyes crinkled as he handed the drink across the bar and lifted his own glass. "To Vegas," he said, his scarred eyebrow arched as if the toast were a question.

"To Vegas," I said, lifting my glass and clinking it to his.

Unsure what to expect from the flavor combination, I sipped the drink tentatively. As soon as it hit my tastebuds, I realized Jax was an even better bartender than I’d given him credit for. The sparkling bubbles hit first, followed by a peppery, fruity burst of flavor that felt edgy and dark, but still refreshing.

It was incredible—a drink I’d have expected to pay way too much for at a bar. I sipped smoothly. "Mmhmm," I said, underplaying how much I liked it. "It’s interesting."

Setting the drink down, I reached for the plate of fruit. Jax grabbed the plate and took it away.

"Hey, I wasn’t finished!" I cried.

He looked at me skeptically. "You were going to eat melon and grapes with that drink?"

"Is that a crime?"

Walking to the food carts with the half-eaten fruit plate, he called back to me. "Not exactly. But I think you could do better. Let me try."

"What do you mean, do better?"

He lifted covers from dishes, one at a time, but shook his head or gave a half-frown to each one. "No, not quite . . ." he muttered at the carts, then raised his head and looked at me. "Don’t you think it’s better to find food that goes together with your drink?"

Shaking my head, I smiled at him. "I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean," I said. "I’ve had wine pairings before, but it’s not magical. It’s just the food and the drink. They taste how they taste."

Jax’s eye lingered a while on one of the dishes, and he set it off to one side of a cart. "Maybe you just haven’t had the right pairing," he said, continuing his search through the feast. "When it’s right, what you’re eating and what you’re drinking don’t just taste how they taste—they taste better. It’s like melody and harmony."

After looking at the last cart, he stacked three of the covered dishes in his arms and brought them to the bar, setting them side by side.

"What did you bring?" I asked.

Jax walked back to the cart and came back with a napkin and fork.

"Only good things," he said, setting the fork next to me from behind.

I reached for one of the dishes and started to lift the cover, but Jax’s hand stretched over mine and pressed it back down. "No," he said, then softened his voice. "Relax. You’re going to let me serve you—and no peeking at the dishes, unless you want the blindfold back on. Understand?"

"Okay . . ." I said, unsure what to think, especially after he’d mentioned the blindfold again. A hint of nervous anticipation crept into my voice as I took my hand off the dish. He tied a napkin around my neck, and the sudden brush of his fingers against my skin made my heart race.

A half-smile played on Jax’s face. "Drink," he insisted, "and then try this first."

He moved the leftmost dish to my place and uncovered it. Three pieces of creamy looking cheese and a few almonds were on the plate.

After a sip of the drink he’d made for me, I took a small piece of cheese and an almond and put them in my mouth together. The cheese had a mild, sweet flavor, with a hint of something that almost tasted like maple, while the almonds gave it a smoky crunch.