Page 109 of First in Line

I wait for the light to be off again, then grab my laptop. When I open it, the call has been cut off. I’m not even sure I’m in the mood to continue what we started.

When she picks up, she’s wrapped in the fluffy blanket we keep by the couch. “I’m so sorry about that. Did you finish?”

“I did,” she answers with a wince. Her cheeks are pink, eyes glistening, and I swear I could strangle my teammate for robbing me of watching her come. “Did you?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to give you a little show while you finish?”

“No, I’m good, princess. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“Oh, okay… I’m sorry I finished on my own. But I was so close.”

“No, you did the right thing. I’m just tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. I love you, Jax.”

“I love you, Evie.”

Six months. Half a year, and I’ll be back with her. Then she’ll come live here with me, and there won’t be a need to sneak around at night like this anymore.

I can’t fucking wait.

Wesley and his wife insisted that we join them on their yacht for the transfer to Barcelona, which got in the way of the romantic road trip I had in mind.But I figured that making the journey on a fifty-million-dollar yacht was an acceptable alternative.

So, with Evie’s permission, I accepted their offer.

After a somewhat short overnight journey, we anchored off Saint-Tropez for a day. It’s a tradition for billionaires cruising the French Riviera to show off their yachts while the ladies disappear into luxury boutiques. Evie wasn’t very interested in that, especially not the designer brands Eliza and her friend sought, so we strolled around the beautiful town and lost ourselves in the narrow streets filled with rich history. She tried and loved the tarte tropézienne, a staple of this town, and we visited the citadel and its museum.

Then, after a night at sea, we anchored near Gruissan and spent the day inland, in Narbonne, which is the halfway point. This wasn’t about shopping but rather culture—and Wesley’s obsession with the Roman Empire. We couldn’t shake off our hosts and their friends, who took us on a curated tour through the city and its hidden wonders. We visited a museum with them, shared a massive tray of seafood served on ice, and then returned to the coastline after an afternoon of exploration.

Although it wasn’t my intention when I shared the information with them during breakfast this morning, Wesley and his wife had tasked the crew to prepare a surprise for Evie’s birthday. It was all set up by the time we returned to the yacht, including a quartet that played mellow music to fill the space.

We had a lengthy dinner, she received a few gifts, and we all drank a little too much. The chef had prepared a six-course dinner for us, which kept us seated until well into the evening.

Although Evie did her best to hide it, I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with any of it. She only met these people two days ago, after all, so I can understand why all this would feel like too much.

Still, when the evening comes to an end, she graciously tells Eliza and Wes, “Thank you again for the lovely surprise.”

“Of course, darling,” Eliza replies with a dismissive hand motion. “You should have told us it was your birthday sooner. We would have organized something bigger. Entering your thirties is a big milestone. We would have invited people and—”

“Oh no, that was plenty.” I hold back a grin at Evie’s apparent horror that this could have been even more.

“Well, I hope you liked the gift. I couldn’t for the life of me pick just one, which is why you got so many.”

“Thank you, yes. A Hermès scarf is one of those things to have, isn’t it? Like a Rolex or a… boat. And now I haveten.”

There’s a little bite of irony to her tone, which they probably won’t notice since we’ve all drank a lot. But I know her well enough to catch it, so I lay a hand on her hip and say, “I should go put her to bed. It’s been a long few days. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course, Jackson. I’m so happy you two could join us.” She leans closer and whispers, “We love the Hendricksons, but they’re a little boring, if you know what I mean.”

Now, it’s Wesley’s turn to decide his wife needs to head to bed. While they head toward the front of the boat to their suite, Evie and I go below deck to our respective cabins.

Desperate to keep our rekindled intimacy private, she insisted we weren’t back together, contrary to what appearances might suggest. Although no one was fooled, they graciously gave us separate bedrooms for the journey. Of course, she’s been sneaking into mine as soon as everyone was off for the night and then leaving me alone in bed at dawn. And I’m pretty confident the same thing will happen tonight. Unless I sneak into hers first.

Leaning against the doorframe of her room with my arms crossed, I watch her get ready for the night. “Did you enjoy your birthday, princess?” I ask, already guessing the answer.

“Yes, Narbonne was lovely.” She offers me a smile with the statement, but it doesn’t ring quite true.