Chapter Five #2
Wow, she remembered those hands. The memory rose unbidden.
The warmth of his palms as they’d roamed over every inch of her body.
Rough calloused hands from his mechanic job at his dad’s garage.
The surety of his touches that ignited flames of insane need and pleasure inside her.
She swallowed hard, pushing down on the memory.
Pleasure and invoking want was something her late husband had never truly been able to do. Not that he had tried very hard after they’d married.
Why had she stayed with Tim? Why had she left him several times and kept going back to him just because he’d suddenly acted all sweet and charming again? But that charming side of him had never lasted. He’d always gone back to being his immature selfish skirt chasing self again.
She frowned, flipped the omelets, and poured coffee into mugs.
“Is there anywhere we can order a windowpane? I can take measurements and call it in,” Axel's question made her jump as she hadn't heard him returning from the bathroom and her nerves were still frayed from the night before.
Man, he sure was quiet.
“Hey, easy. I didn't mean to scare you,” he said softly.
“Me? Scared? Never,” Jenna joked as she gazed up at him.
Gosh, he looked so much like before. Except older. His brow was furrowed as he studied her.
“The Jenna I knew rarely got scared. So what's up with that?”
She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. Should she tell him what had happened last night? Gosh, was it only last night that she had had that scare?
Her fingers tightened around the coffee mug.
“Seems like I have stepped on too many toes. Sit,” she ordered.
“Trouble?” he growled and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“That's right,” she said as she served him his coffee and omelette.
“You're still getting into trouble? Even after all this time?” He gazed at her, his dark brown eyes now flashing with amusement.
Jenna shook her head. “You're one to talk.”
“Yeah well, trouble is lots of fun, or don’t you remember that time we got caught stealing Old Man Joe’s apples because I wanted you to bake me an apple pie and you said we didn’t have any apples, so I persuaded you to come with me to help ourselves to some apples under his tree and then he was there with his shotgun.
Or the time your dad caught us kissing in your mom and dad’s covered swing on their back patio and he grounded you for three weeks? ” he replied.
“Oh geez, I forgot about that,” Jenna said as the memories flooded her mind.
Warmth bloomed through her chest, softening the edges of the morning.
Their first kiss had been that night on that swing, so intense and so much pleasure, until her dad’s loud voice had been like an ice cold bucket of water being dumped over both their heads.
“You looked so embarrassed and horrified. I felt so bad for you,” she admitted.
Suddenly Axel burst out laughing. The sound wrapped around her, rich and familiar, tugging her straight back to when she was seventeen.
It was a deep, genuine sound that echoed from within his chest and she couldn’t help but smile and remember that yes, the two of them did have adventures that seemed to lead them into the path of trouble.
His laughter had always been irresistibly infectious, drawing her into its warmth.
He dropped his gaze to his plate and powerfully cut into his omelet with his fork.
“Yeah, your dad didn’t like me at first, but he warmed up to me, didn’t he? Damn this smells so good. Tell me what happened last night,” he prodded.
She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat.
“What happened last night was no fun. I'm sure more is coming. So you and Nick will have to watch your backs while you're here. I should have warned him before leaving and now I can’t because Sam doesn’t have a phone, he usually comes here to use ours. I should have given Nick my cell phone, just in case.”
“From where we’ve just come from, it's now second nature to watch our backs. I’m sure Nick will be fine,” Axel replied.
Jenna nodded. Of course it would be that way in prison.
He shoved a forkful of omelette into his mouth, closed his eyes, and moaned his appreciation.
Jenna’s breath caught at the sexy sound.
“This tastes like heaven,” he said between bites.
She loved that he enjoyed her cooking.
“Glad you like it.”
She was also happy her tummy was cooperating. No more morning sickness. Hopefully, what she’d experienced earlier with passing out and puking had just been pregnancy nerves. But still, she’d need to check in with her nurse practitioner as soon as possible.
“Tell me what’s going on.” His expression was now of concern and had her confessing to him about the rock thrown through the window, the note and that she had no idea who might be behind it.
“It’s a good thing we showed up when we did. There’s no way someone is going to hurt you. Not on my watch,” he growled.
She wanted to tell him he would be looking out for more than just her. Her hand drifted unconsciously toward her abdomen. She had her unborn baby too. She’d have to tell him. Just not now.
“I’m sure if someone was watching my place today, they’ll think twice about coming around again,” she replied. At least she hoped that was the case.
“Nick and I will keep an eye out.
“Thanks. Much appreciated.”
“So how are your brothers and sisters? Give me the scoop.”
She exhaled slowly, grateful for the shift in topic. She grabbed her mug of coffee and some toast fresh out of the toaster and sat down opposite Axel who continued to enjoy his omelette and coffee.
“Well, up until about two weeks ago Ginny was here running my place with the help of Sam, but when I came back from wrapping up things at work, I found a note saying goodbye and that she’d be in touch.”
“She was just a kid when I went in. Man, she must be what twenty? Twenty-one?
“Twenty two, actually. And she's so beautiful, Axel. She almost died that same night my mom and dad died.”
“Yeah, my mom told me about that too. I'm glad she made it.”
“She's tough.” Jenna answered as she sipped her coffee, watching him.
She kept quiet as he ate his breakfast. There was something strangely comforting about watching him devour breakfast like he always used to. He chowed his food down like a man possessed. When he finished his coffee, she poured him another.
“How are the others?” he asked as he finished.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully, some stories weren’t hers to tell.
“Brady and his two partners have a cattle ranch a couple hundred miles from here and he has a baby daughter who is a little over seven months old.” She almost told him that the mother of his baby had gone to Brady’s ranch through the Cowboys Online program, but she held herself back, thinking that Brady might not want that advertised.
“No, shit. So he gave up the city life. Good for him.”
His easy grin tugged a reluctant smile from her.
“Mitch did too. He isn't too far from Brady. Has his own wilderness horse ranch with a couple of partners.” And a woman living with them was also through the Cowboys Online program. But she kept quiet about that too.
Axel chuckled.
“Never figured he would be one for going into the woods. He seemed to be the city type.”
“I know. It came as a shock to all of us.”
“And Carly? Megan? Boone? Cody?”
Jenna wrapped her hands around her mug, bracing herself.
“Carly is in the military, currently stationed in Nunavut. Boone is currently running a bed and breakfast up in Alaska and Cody is hitchhiking around the world. You know him, always the wanderer.”
She hesitated. None of the siblings really discussed Megan, especially Brady. He was so angry with her for refusing his help and she’d cut off all contact with the family, that he pretended she didn’t exist.
Axel cocked a curious eyebrow at her.
“Megan?” he prodded.
Her stomach tightened. Megan was always the hardest one to talk about.
“Prison, out west in British Columbia.”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
He looked surprised. She didn’t blame him.
“Pretty Miss Perfect! What did she do? Put on the wrong color nail polish?”
Jenna’s mouth twitched. The joke was inappropriate, but it was also Axel trying to soften the blow.
His expression sobered, and something gentle flickered in his eyes.
“Sorry. I shouldn't be joking. She's the last one I ever expected to be incarcerated. She seemed to be such a nice, sensitive kid. Very outspoken for others. Reminded me of me. And she was always getting into trouble from your dad and especially your mom for wearing too much makeup.”
Her throat tightened as she forced the story out, each detail scraping raw.
“She didn't handle our parents dying too well.
She quit school and drove out west with friends and it appears hooked up with a bad crowd of young alcoholics out there and ended up in a hit and run.
They found her passed out in the driver's seat of a car.
She ran down a lady, left her paralyzed.
She says she doesn't remember a thing. She's seven years into a twenty year sentence.”
She had been trying hard not to let what had happened to Megan affect her life. But it did.
“Wow. I'm really sorry to hear about that, Jen.”
“Want another omelet? Toast? Eggs?”
Time for her to change the subject because she could feel the sting of tears starting.
Hell, she needed Cyn to call her back. She needed details about Axel and Nick’s stay. She’d left messages for her, a couple of them were not so nice. But she needed to know what she was dealing with here.
“I wouldn't mind some toast and a couple of eggs. But I can make it. I can make you some too.”
He made a move to get up, but she waved for him to remain seated. The Axel she knew didn’t know anything more than making coffee. She cleared her throat, desperate to steer them back to safer ground.
“I'll make it,” she moved to the stove. She blinked hard, clearing her tears and stared at the counter until her vision steadied.
A moment later, she had some butter melting in the pan and the bowl of eggs back on the counter.
“Just like old times,” he drawled.
Jenna held her breath knowing where this was going.
“Remember when we'd spend solo weekends up at your parents cottage?”
Her breath hitched. She knew exactly where he was going with this.
Heat fused through her at the mention of their trysts at the cottage.
She swallowed as her pussy clenched, remembering how intimately he'd slide his cock into her welcoming vagina while she stood slightly bent over at the stove cooking them breakfast.
Their passion had been insatiable. Even simple routines, like making breakfast, would turn into intimate encounters.
Oh boy, this was getting way too intense way too fast.
She remained silent as she cracked a couple of eggs into the frying pan.
They sizzled and she quickly lowered the heat, resisting the urge to fan her hot face. He had been here barely two hours, years apart, and she wanted to jump into bed with him. She was nuts.
“Remember the weekend we locked ourselves out of the cabin. Had to spend the night out on that crazy squeaky pull out couch your mom and dad had on that screened veranda.”
That pullout couch squeaked so hard that night she swore the neighbors across the lake could hear it. She smiled and put the bread into the toaster.
“And then you woke up in the middle of the night and saw a black bear just outside the screen. You screamed so loud,” he chuckled.
Suddenly he fell silent. Was he remembering how much she screamed during their lovemaking? A wave of heat rushed through her. Not from the stove, but from the flood of memories she wasn’t ready to face. She focused on the rhythm of cooking, hoping the familiar motions would ground her.
“Do you still like blueberry jam?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Her voice sounded hoarse. Aroused?
And how odd that she’d recently accepted a jar of home made blueberry jam from Sam. He’d offered over the years, but she’d declined and always accepted strawberry jam instead. This last time, she’d taken the blueberry.
“You remember I’m nuts about blueberry jam?” he said with a chuckle.
“Of course I remember. I remember everything. Why do you sound so surprised?”
She stared at the cooking eggs, not daring to look at him. She knew his look would be heated, intense.
“Kind of figured you went on with your life and put me out of your mind like I asked you to.”
His words hit her like a slap. Sharp, unexpected, undeserved. Her shoulders locked, tension radiating through her entire body.
“You mean like you forced me to. I told you I would wait for you,” she snapped. Her voice shook, not from weakness, but from years of hurt finally breaking loose.
She clutched the edge of the counter, refusing to meet his eyes, her hands tight around the butter knife. She wanted him to understand that she hadn’t chosen to move on, she’d only done what he’d forced upon her, even though it had broken her heart.