Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

“You mean something like this?” she asked softly, reaching toward one of the hangers.

Her fingers glided over the silver-and-white silk material, and he could see the longing in her eyes. At that moment, it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the wrong thing for her to wear. There was no way he was going to tell her no.

“Absolutely,” he said with a firm nod. “You got shoes to go with that or do we need to make a stop and pick up a pair? Drake will understand.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh no. I have shoes. Besides, I’m already late and as everyone is constantly reminding me, Drake doesn’t like to be kept waiting so he’s probably already angry.”

Jax frowned. “Now wait a minute, sugar. It’s true that Drake is an impatient son of a bitch and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, but he will not be angry with you and he damn sure won’t hurt you. Besides, I’ll simply tell him I got held up and was late getting here to pick you up.”

She smiled and for a moment he forgot to breathe. Holy hell, but this woman was death on men and didn’t even have a fucking clue.

“That’s sweet of you, Jax, but I would never allow you to take the blame for me oversleeping and then having a meltdown because I’m too gauche to know what I’m supposed to wear or how to act. If Drake is going to get mad at anyone, it will be me and not anyone else.”

Her jaw was set in a stubborn line that told him she meant business.

“I have the shoes over here,” she said, bending over and rummaging through several boxes before producing a pair of iridescent high heels that would look killer on her already gorgeous legs.

Then she frowned. “I should probably bring makeup and toiletries. Do we have time for me to pack a quick bag?”

“Sugar, you take all the time you need. I’ll just wait in the living room.”

He was almost to the door when she called out to him.

“Oh! Jax, I almost forgot. Can you do something for me, please?”

Hell, she could ask him for damn near anything and he’d do it or die trying.

“Sure thing. Just name it.”

“There’s a box of cupcakes on the bar in the kitchen. Can you get it for me? I was going to just keep them here for Drake, but since we’re going to the club and there are plenty to go around, I thought I’d bring them for the guys.”

He was at a momentary loss of words. Cupcakes? She was bringing the guys at Impulse cupcakes? Drake might never live this one down, so it was with glee that he cheerfully agreed to collect the box and wait for her in the kitchen.

Evangeline carefully put the dress into one of Drake’s garment holders, grabbed an overnight bag and stuffed the shoes and all her toiletries and makeup inside and then hurried into the kitchen to see Jax stuffing what was left of a cupcake into his mouth.

When he heard her, he looked up, ignoring her accusing look and the hand on her hip. “Holy shit, these are fucking awesome. Where did you buy them?”

She fidgeted uncomfortably. “I made them.”

His eyes bugged out. “You made them?”

She ducked her head but nodded. “I like to cook. And bake.”

“Oh my God, I’m in love,” he groaned. “Any chance you can forget that you were bringing the box for all the guys and let me take it home with me?”

She grinned. “No. But I’ll pretend you didn’t already have one so you can have another when we get to the club.”

“Good. I’m starving. Haven’t had a chance to eat yet.”

Evangeline frowned and put her stuff down on the counter and then shoved a startled Jax around to the other side of the bar and made him sit.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly baffled.

“Feeding you. I have leftovers from the dinner I made Drake last night. It won’t take but a few minutes to warm up and as you said, we’re already late, so what’s a few more minutes, right? Traffic was so terrible.”

Jax laughed. “I like you already.”

“It won’t be as good as it was last night,” she said in an apologetic tone. “But it won’t be bad. Promise.”

“You actually cooked dinner for Drake?”

“Yeah. I thought I screwed up and pissed him off. He had placed an order with a delivery service for seven, but I misunderstood when he said he’d be home at six and that we were eating in. I assumed he wanted me to cook, so it was kind of awkward. Until he tasted my cooking,” she added with a grin.

A few minutes later, she set a plate of leftover fish and the sides, minus a baked potato, in front of Jax and blinked as he literally inhaled it.