The Wrong Brother, Accidentally Yours

My memory? Gone. Wiped clean.

Clinton asked me the question that would change everything. Do you remember who your boyfriend is?

I raised a hand, pointing past him. To the man in the corner with the playful smirk.

Clinton exhaled. A long, shuddering breath. Like hed just dodged a bullet.

He was relieved.

But later?

On my wedding night with that same brother?

Clinton lost his mind.

Fists slammed against the bedroom door. Wood splintering. The sound of a man unhinged.

"You can't do this! You can't marry him!"

His voice cracked, raw with desperation.

"Eden! Open the goddamn door!"

Chapter 1

Ever since Dr. Webber confirmed the holes in my memory, Clinton had been a permanent fixture at the hospital.

The day before my discharge, he dropped the bomb.

"Eden." He leaned forward, eyes searching mine. "Do you remember who your boyfriend is?"

My gaze drifted past him. To the corner of the sterile room.

To the man slouching in the shadows.

Jax.

Clintons younger brother.

Hed been here every day too. Silent. Watchful. And devastatingly handsome. The kind of face that was exactly my type.

Lexi had filled me in earlier. He was chasing you, Eden. Relentlessly.

I lifted a trembling finger and pointed straight at him.

"Him. He's my boyfriend."

The air in the room shifted instantly.

Clintons shoulders dropped. The tension that had been holding him upright seemed to drain away.

He forced a smile. It looked painful. "Right. Jax is your boyfriend."

A sharp scoff cut through the silence.

Jax unfolded his frame from the chair and stood up.

Holy hell.

Broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. Towering height. Pure, unadulterated testosterone. The man was danger personified.

I watched, frozen, as he stalked toward me.

He stopped inches from the bed. His scent hit memusk, mint, and something cool.

He leaned down. His face hovered close enough that I could count his eyelashes.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow. Girlfriend."

His voice was a low rumble. A velvet caress that sent a shiver straight down my spine. The suggestive drawl on the last word? Possessive. Seductive.

Heat flooded my cheeks.

I watched him walk away, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Eden"

I snapped my head back. Clinton.

His expression was sour. Dark.

My smile vanished. "Why are you still here?"

A shadow crossed his eyes. "My engagement party is coming up. Paris and I anyway, I can't pick you up tomorrow."

I waved a hand. Dismissive.

"Thanks, but I don't need you. I have my boyfriend."

Jax was punctual.

He grabbed my bag with one hand. His other hand found mine naturally.

Intertwined our fingers. His palm was warm, rough with calluses. The friction sent a jolt up my arm.

He drove us to his place. A sleek, modern penthouse that screamed money.

"You're in the guest room," he said, nodding down the hall.

He turned toward the master suite.

The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"We don't sleep in the same room?"

Jax froze.

He turned back, a look of pure, puppy-dog hurt washing over his sharp features.

"You never let me sleep in the same room as you, babe."

Damn amnesia.

I couldn't exactly beg him to take me to bed now. I racked my brain, but the memories were blank.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some dignity. "Right. Let's stick to the old rules. Until I get my memory back."

"Deal."

He grinned.

A smile so handsome it was predatory, making the hair on my arms stand up.

Jax disappeared into his room and didn't come out.

Dinner time came and went. Silence.

Hunger gnawed at my stomach, so I raided the kitchen to make something simple.

Halfway through chopping vegetables, the atmosphere in the room changed. The air pressure dropped.

Heavy. Charged.

Heat radiated behind me.

A chest pressed against my back. Hard muscle. Solid wall.

"Whatcha making?"

Chapter 2

I instinctively stepped back.

Mistake.

I hit a wall of solid muscle. His chest pressed against my back, a furnace radiating heat through the thin cotton of my shirt. It wasn't just warm; it was searing.

My hand spasmed.

Clang.

The spatula hit the floor.

Panic spiked. I dropped into a crouch to grab it. At the exact same moment, Jax shifted.

My thigh brushed against his.

Friction. Electric and immediate.

The contact was absolute. No air. No space. Just the shock of his denim against my bare skin.

Before I could breathe, hands clamped around my waist. Iron-hard. Possessive.

He hoisted me up like I weighed nothing, setting me aside with a rough motion.

I spun around.

Too late. I only caught a glimpse of his retreating back. He was moving fast. Like he was fleeing a crime scene.

My memory might be Swiss cheese, but my body knew basic biology.

Heat flooded my face, burning all the way down to my collarbone.

When dinner was ready, I went to find him.

Jax acted like the kitchen incident never happened. He sat down, face unreadable.

"Clinton's engagement party is tomorrow," he said, cutting into his food. "You're my plus-one. We're going."

I nodded, pushing rice around my plate.

Then it clicked.

"Wait. Isn't that basically meeting the parents? Again?"

Jax leaned back, the tension in his shoulders dissolving into that trademark lazy slouch.

"You've already met everyone, Eden. A thousand times. Just be yourself."

The engagement party was a sea of designer silk and fake smiles.

Jax kept a hand on the small of my back, steering me through the crowd. But I could feel the weight of a hundred eyes on us.

I leaned in close to him. "Jax. Why is everyone looking at me like I grew a second head?"

He smirked, dipping his head so his breath ghosted over my ear.

"Because you're stunning. They're terrified you're going to upstage the bride."

My cheeks heated.

I had dressed up today. Not to outshine ParisClinton's fiancebut because I didn't want to embarrass Jax.

I slipped away to the restroom to breathe.

I was in the stall when the door opened. Heels clicking on marble. Voices.

"I can't believe Clinton is actually going through with it. Marrying Paris? When Eden gets her memory back, it's going to be a bloodbath."

"Let her scream. Clinton never loved her. If her daddy wasn't loaded, he wouldn't have tolerated her obsession for five minutes."

My blood ran cold.

"And now she's clinging to Jax? Failed with the heir, so she hops on the spare? Trashy."

"Knock it off. Eden has always been generous to you guys."

The voices faded as they left.

I stayed in the stall for a long time, staring at the locked door.

When I finally walked out, Jax was leaning against the wall opposite the restroom. Arms crossed. A sentinel in a tuxedo.

He scanned my face, his expression unreadable.

"Were you waiting for me to come in and rescue you?"

I forced a scoff, though my face felt hot. "In your dreams."

He pushed off the wall, stepping into my personal space. His grin was wicked.

"Every damn night, Eden."

He reached for my hand.

I slapped his knuckles. Lightly. "Jax. I heard them. They said before the accident I was in love with your brother."

Jax laughed. A short, dry sound.

"Clinton wishes."

He grabbed my hand this time, refusing to let go. His thumb traced circles on the sensitive skin of my palm.

"He doesn't have the spine to handle you. You've always been mine."

The caress sent a jolt of static electricity straight up my arm.

I yanked my hand back. Too much. Too fast.

He didn't push. He just reached out again, intertwining our fingers with a grip that said he wasn't letting go.

"Come on. Let's get you some real food."

I nodded, letting him lead me back into the lion's den.

Chapter 3

Jax claimed the old me treated sugar like poison to maintain a size zero.

Sounds miserable.

By the time Clinton and his fiance drifted toward us, I was already three pastries deep.

Jax didn't flinch. He reached out, his thumb sweeping across the corner of my mouth. The pad of his finger was rough, the pressure deliberate. He wiped away a crumb, eyes locked on my lips.

Intimate. Claiming.

I grabbed his wrist. "Jax. Your brother and the bride-to-be."

"Mn."

"Mmm." A low vibration in his chest. He didn't pull away. Instead, he flipped his grip, capturing my hand.

He pulled it into his lap.

His long fingers began to dismantle mine. He traced the tendons, massaged the knuckles, played with the joints. It was idle, rhythmic, and incredibly distracting.

The air around us turned brittle.

I stood up, forcing a smile. I raised my champagne flute. "Happy engagement."

Paris, the fiance, let her gaze bounce between Jax and me. A calculation. Then, a polite, plastic smile.

"You two seem so close. I hope well be celebrating your engagement soon."

My hand spasmed. I let out a dry, awkward laugh, ready to deflect.

"Soon," Jax said.

His voice was dead serious. "We're looking at dates."

Clintons head snapped toward me. His eyes narrowed, dark and sharp.

"Is that true, Eden?"

My nerves frayed. "Y-Yes."

Clinton opened his mouth to press, but Jax stood up, blocking his view. A physical wall between me and his brother. He shut the conversation down before it could start.

"Let's go for a drive."

Jax buckled my seatbelt. His knuckles grazed my sternum.

"Okay."

I regretted that word exactly three minutes later.

Jax didn't drive. He piloted a weapon.

As soon as we cleared the city limits, he slammed the accelerator flush against the floorboards. The engine roareda guttural, mechanical scream.

The G-force pinned me to the leather seat.

I gripped the strap across my chest, knuckles turning white. I was hanging on for dear life.

Jax looked bored. Relaxed. He pushed the car faster, blurring the streetlights into streaks of neon violence.

I wanted to scream. I couldn't breathe.

The car skidded to a halt near the coastline.

I threw the door open, scrambled out, and fell to my knees in the sand.

My stomach revolted. I heaved, tears pricking my eyes, emptying the expensive pastries onto the beach.

"Ugh."

I wiped my mouth, trembling.

When I turned around, Jax was sitting on the sand, a six-pack of beer beside him. He cracked one open, foam spilling over his fingers, and waved at me.

I stared at him, disbelief warring with nausea.

"You kidnapped me, tried to kill me with speed, and brought me to the ocean for a drink?"

He took a long pull, his throat working. "I just thought you needed alcohol today."

Unbelievable.

"I'm a patient," I snapped, voice raspy. "I'm on meds. I can't drink."

Jax let out a soft laugh. The sound was carried away by the sea breeze.

"You can't drink," he agreed. He lifted the bottle in a toast. "So I'll drink for you."

The consequence of not stopping him?

I had to drive his terrifying sports car back to the city. Two hours of white-knuckled stress while he dozed in the passenger seat.

We made it to his building alive. Barely.

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing us in a steel box.

Jax moved.

One second he was leaning against the rail, the next, a long arm snaked around my waist.

He pulled me in. Hard.

My back hit the wall. His body pressed against mine, heavy and solid.

He smelled like sea salt, expensive cologne, and beer. Intoxicating.

His face hovered inches from mine. His eyes were half-lidded, dark pools of liquid heat. The alcohol had stripped away his usual guarded smirk, leaving something raw.

I stared up at him, paralyzed.

Jax tightened his grip on my waist, his fingers digging into my hip. He dipped his head lower.

"Eden," he rumbled. "Am I good to look at?"

I nodded. Mute.

"Do you like me?"

I nodded again. The air in the elevator was getting thin.

"Then" His voice dropped to a whisper, brushing against my lips. "Sleep with me tonight?"

I nodded.

The elevator chimed.

The spell broke. My brain rebooted.

Wait.

Heat flared in my chest. Panic and embarrassment.

"Jax!" I shoved at his chest. "Are you actually drunk or just faking it?"

He didn't budge. He just slumped forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

Dead weight.

"You"

I pushed him again. He was a statue.

A very heavy, very warm, very dangerous statue.

Chapter 4

The elevator doors pinged open.

Before I could take a step, Jax moved.

He swept me off my feet. Literally. One arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. Bridal style, but with an edge of urgency.

He strode down the hallway, bypassing the guest room entirely.

"Jax," I gasped, gripping his lapel. "Thats the master bedroom."

He didn't break stride. He just pivoted on his heel, smooth as silk.

"Your room it is."

He didn't bother with the lights.

Jax lowered me onto the mattress. The bed dipped under his weight as he followed me down, caging my body with his.

Darkness wrapped around us, amplifying every sensation.

His knee nudged between my legs. A claim.

His handrough, hot, and electricslid under the hem of my shirt.

Skin on skin.

My breath hitched in my throat. His fingers traced the curve of my waist, the friction sending shockwaves through my nervous system. His thumb brushed against my ribcage, inching higher.

Click.

Blinding white light shattered the atmosphere.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Clinton. Standing at the foot of the bed. His face was twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.

Jax didn't scramble. He didn't panic.

With his free hand, he quickly yanked the duvet up, covering my exposed body.

But his other hand?

It stayed right where it was. Under my shirt. Warm against my skin.

Jax turned his head slowly, locking eyes with his brother. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"What does it look like we're doing?"

Clinton marched forward, grabbing Jax by the shoulder. "Get out. Now."

Jax didn't fight the pull immediately. But before he let go of me, his fingers dug into my waist.

A sharp, possessive pinch.

He leaned down, lips grazing my ear. "Wait for me, babe."

Jax didn't come back