Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
JAX
L eesa stiffens, and her green eyes flare in alarm as she glances at the door like she’s ready to run for it. “Say what?”
“Sorry,” I say, holding up my hands. “That came out wrong. You’re shivering. I meant we should get you into some dry, warm clothes. And given what I’m assuming are the circumstances, I can’t imagine you want to stay in that dress any longer than you have to.”
“Oh,” she says, her body slumping a little. “Yeah, something else would be nice.”
“Right. If you go down that hall,” I say, pointing across the living area, “you’ll see a couple of bedrooms. Try the first one on the left. You should find some clothes in there. The bathroom is next door if you want to get cleaned up.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to argue, but then her shoulders sag. She nods and heads toward the bedroom. I know the signs of an adrenaline crash, and she’s crashing.
I stay rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door once she’s gone. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Why do I care so much about this woman? One look at her standing on the side of the road was all it took for her to become my mission. Every possessive and protective instinct roared through my blood when I saw her.
I move to the kitchen, needing something to do with my hands. Food. Whiskey. She needs something to steady her, and I need the distraction. I grab a pan of lasagna from the fridge, cut off two hefty slices, and pop them into the microwave. I hear water running in the bathroom as I pull two glasses from the cabinet and pour us both a generous amount of whiskey.
The microwave beeps as Leesa walks into the kitchen. Out of everything in the closet, she’s wearing one of my sister Andrea’s dresses and she’s wearing one of my old flannel shirts over it. She’s swimming in my flannel, the sleeves hanging past her hands. Her damp hair curls in loose tendrils around her face, and it takes all of my restraint not to pull her into my arms and hug her until she realizes she’s mine.
Fuck. I’m jealous of my old shirt. What I’d give to have her in my arms and feel her soft curves pressed tightly against my body.
“You look good.” The words come out before I can stop them, and they’re not enough to describe what I truly think. She’s so beautiful, even now—her face scrubbed clean, her eyes red from crying, and her hair wet. This woman is perfect.
She sits at the table and wraps the flannel tighter around herself. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Yeah, I did.” I grab the glasses and hand one to her before sitting across from her. “Here you go.” I place the lasagna in front of her and give her the glass of whiskey. “Eat. Drink. It’ll help.”
She eyes the glass warily but eventually takes a small sip, her fingers trembling around the tumbler.
I lean back, nursing my drink as I watch her. She’s trying to hold it together, but the cracks are showing.
“You’re not going to ask?” she finally questions, her voice quiet.
She takes a bite of the lasagna, and her eyes flutter with happiness. I make a mental note to thank my sister Olivia for bringing the lasagna over. I know my way around a kitchen, but I don’t tend to cook things like lasagna. Olivia knows this and she often preps another pan of food when she cooks for her family.
“Ask what? From how I found you, I’m guessing you ran out of your wedding.”
She closes her eyes for several seconds. “Why I left. And yes, I did.”
I recognize the signs of her fighting her emotions in the same way I’ve seen my sisters do.
I shake my head. “That’s your business. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
She gives a short laugh and stares at me. “That’s a first.”
I let the comment slide, keeping my eyes on her. If she wants to talk, she will. I’m not going to push her.
We eat our food and head back to the living room. Leesa sits at the end of the couch, clutching a pillow to her and squeezing tightly. How I wish I could lift the pain that she’s so clearly experiencing. I want to do unspeakable violence to the man who made her feel this way.
“I—” She hesitates, her voice small. “I caught him with the wedding planner. I went to look for her and found them together, right before the ceremony.”
My grip tightens on my glass, the whiskey sloshing against the sides. “The bastard,” I swear.
She blinks at me and nods. “Yeah. I should’ve seen it coming. Things weren’t bad, but our relationship didn’t seem as…deep as it is for other friends of mine.”
I force myself to keep my voice even. If this goddess thinks a man cheating on her is her fault, she has no idea how beautiful and strong she is. “That’s not on you.”
She shrugs stiffly. I’m absolutely certain she doesn’t believe me.
“I walked out, got in my car, and drove. I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to get away.”
“You did the right thing.”
She nods, tucking her legs underneath her and clutching a pillow to her stomach. “I suppose. I didn’t mean to end up on this mountain. I started driving and just followed the road. This is where it led me.”
“Well, you’re here now,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “And I don’t let people suffer on the side of the road. It’s not how we do things around here. You can stay as long as you need. I’ll take care of you.”
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, and she leans her head back against the couch. The lamplight casts a soft glow over her face, and I can’t look away. Seeing Leesa on the side of the road was like finding a goddess.
She’s not mine. She walked out of her wedding hours ago, for God’s sake. But the thought of her being hurt—or worse, alone out there—stirs something unfamiliar and so powerful that it feels like my entire soul is on fire.
“I’ll call my sister in the morning,” I say, breaking the moment before it gets too heavy. “She’ll know what to bring. And I’ll get your car taken care of. While you were getting changed, I called my buddy Mack at Rebel Autos. He’s already sent someone to tow your car, and they’ll look at it tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do all that.”
“Yeah, I do. You don’t have to worry about a thing tonight, okay? You’re safe.”
She nods, but I can see the doubt lingering in her eyes. Trust doesn’t come easy after something like this.
“Do you live up here alone?” she asks suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet.
I shake my head. “No. Me and a few guys work the land, keep the place running. But this place here is mine.”
“For how long?”
“A long time. My family has had a land lease on this side of the mountain for the last hundred-odd years. I’m the last of my family up here, and I have the land lease now. The men with me are like family. Most of us were in the Army.”
She nods like she gets it, but I’m not sure she does. Most people don’t understand why anyone would choose to live up here. We’re not cut off from society, but we mostly keep to ourselves. For some of us vets, we just want a simple life after serving our country. There are things you can un-see or un-experience, and which haunt you if you’re not careful.
Her brow furrows, and she looks down at her hands, twisting the blanket between her fingers. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
“You didn’t drag me into anything,” I say, my voice firm. “You were stranded and needed help. I did what any decent person would do.”
She exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping a fraction. “Thanks. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Her eyes drift shut, her head resting against the back of the couch. She’s still holding on to the blanket like it’s a life preserver, but her breathing evens out.
I look at her for a long moment, wild desire coursing through my veins. She’s not mine—can’t be mine—but the thought of her out there, lost and alone, makes my chest tighten in a way that scares the hell out of me.
She will be mine.