Page 34 of Venomous Throne

“No,” I admitted. I changed the topic to safe territory. “Do you have a favorite color?”

He watched me, unfazed by the abrupt question. “Black. You?”

“Orange.” I smiled.

“Orange.” He tasted the word.

“Mhmm.” I nodded. “The sunset, the fruit, a tiger lily—it’s a beautiful color.”

We ordered, and while we waited for the food, we conducted the strangest interview that ever happened on a first date.

He preferred wild game over domestic animals for food. I admitted I hated the texture of shrimp and most other seafood. He never had any pets, but a cat seemed the most logical. I told him I’d never had a mani-pedi.

By the time the bill came, I was in danger of falling for this strange, wonderful human being.

“I can never be your anything,” he said with rapped finality.

It was as if he read the trail of my thoughts.

“I never asked you to be,” I stammered, feeling guilty about the emotions swirling through me.

Jaxon nodded. “This is my way of making sure you’re okay after your charity work went south. But this is our last date, Isabella.”

The punches kept coming.

“I’m not on the dating market.” I slid my hand with the wedding band onto my lap.

His eyes softened. Those lush pools of grey missed nothing. “I know your husband died. That’s not why.”

Then what is it?I pressed my lips tight to keep from shouting.

Yes, he had no place in the mob. My world wasn’t open to outsiders. But to dismiss this unexpected connection right off the bat was strange.

And then, it hit me. Jaxon was just being nice. I was jaded and torn from years spent trapped in a terrible marriage—surrounded by equally horrific examples of matrimony. His kindness was so foreign that I was reading into it, searching for something that wasn’t there.

But it wasn’t fair.

Why were men like him unavailable, but monsters like Marco, Vincent, and the drunk dad beater got women?

“Isabella?” A gruff voice broke my mental spiral.

Snapping my head to the side, I stared at the apparition beside our booth.

Franky looked between me and Jaxon with interest. “You didn’t answer your phone. I came looking for you.”

Damn my bodyguard and his insistence on activating the tracker on my phone.

“We were just wrapping this up,” I said lamely, gesturing between Jaxon and me.

Franky waited while I climbed from the booth.

“Thank you again for your help today,” I said.

Jaxon didn’t respond.

That hurt more than I cared to admit. Following my faithful friend outside to the waiting sedan, I fought back the surge of emotions at the unfairness of it all.

Chapter 15 – Isabella