6. Jax
SIX
jax
No. Fucking. Way.
I wasn’t even halfway finished with my coffee when I saw her. It had only been a few days since I came to Kitchi Falls, but Seneca Lake was already growing on me. I could get used to working on the deck with this view every morning.
When I first saw the kayak in the distance, I didn’t think anything of it. But as it made its way down the shoreline, I became curious. Every so often the kayak slowed and its rider reached down into the lake.
Curious enough to get a better view, I grabbed my coffee, abandoned the mounds of paperwork I’d been sorting through, and made my way onto the dock of my lakeside rental. I could tell it was a woman, but she wore a hat so I couldn’t see much. Until she rowed closer.
Of all the people in the world, or on this lake, what were the chances?
“Good mornin’ beautiful,” I yelled, a reference to our very enlightening discussion two nights ago.
She’d been leaning over the opposite side of the kayak from where I stood. At the sound of my voice, she whipped around so quickly her kayak became unbalanced. And then the unthinkable happened. At least, for someone like Natalie who likely lived in that lake and could handle a kayak as well as anyone. She was tossed right over the side. I knew I was going to hell for it, but simply couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing.
Natalie, however, wasn’t laughing at all. She frantically searched the lake for something, not bothering to turn the kayak right side up. I took a sip of coffee, glad to have abandoned my work for such a show, and waited.
It didn’t take long.
She glared up at me with some of the vitriol I’d seen in the face of other adversaries I’d faced. But instead of wielding a gun pointed at my chest, this one, thankfully, was armed only with a paddle. She’d fished it from the water and was now in the process of turning the kayak over. Accomplishing the feat deftly enough, Natalie tossed the paddle inside and turned back to me.
I made a motion for her to come to my dock.
She shook her head.
“Come on,” I yelled out. “Use my dock. Temporary truce.”
Clearly torn, she looked around only to discover what I knew already. No neighbors. This particular property came with enough land to ensure it, since my privacy was more important than the astronomical price I’d paid for a monthly rental.
“Don’t be stubborn,” I yelled, trying again. It would be one hell of a feat for her to get back into that thing on the water.
Glowering at me one last time, Natalie finally gave in. With the kayak trailing behind her, she slowly made her way to my dock. I tried, and failed, not to smile at the sight she made. Hat, soaked. Nose scrunched up in annoyance.
Adorable.
Putting my coffee mug on the deck, I made my way over to where she pushed in. Squatting down, I held out my hand for the paddle. Reluctantly, she gave it to me, still glowering, and swam over to the ladder.
Knowing she wanted nothing to do with me helping her out of the water, I pulled the kayak up onto the dock instead.
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “I’m getting back in.”
She was ridiculous. “You’re soaked. And it’s not exactly warm out,” I said, the cool morning warranting the light jacket she wore and the fleece I’d put on to sit out on the deck. “How far do you need to go like that?”
Dripping everywhere, Natalie took off her hat and began to squeeze the water out of her clothing. “Take a guess,” she quipped.
The inlet.
“What . . . do you live there?”
“Pretty much,” she said. Unfortunately, her words lacked their usual heat, making me almost feel bad about the fact that I’d be buying that piece of land.
I chose to focus on “almost,” given that the woman was shooting daggers at me with her eyes that were at odds with her soft tone.
“That’s too far to go like that. Let me get you some dry clothes first.”
She stopped wringing out her jacket.
“Dry clothes? If you think I am going into that house with you, today or any other day, you’re out of your ever-living mind. Lord knows what evil lurks in there.”
Christ almighty. She really had it out for me.
“Natalie. I need you to access your non-crazy side for a second. If you have one. Evil? really? A bit strong for the circumstances, wouldn’t you say?”
“First of all, Mr. Land-Stealing Army Ranger—”
“Ex-Army Ranger.”
“Whatever. First of all, if I’m acting crazy, you drove me to it. Second of all, I’m not acting crazy. Third of all, evil might be slightly harsh.”
So she could be reasonable?
“Probably deranged is a better word.”
So much for that. I walked over to my coffee mug. “Suit yourself. Get back in the kayak. Freeze your ass off. Or follow me into the house where I can grab you a towel, a pair of sweats and sweatshirt, and a warm cup of coffee. You can hate me on the way back and for every day I’m here, but at least admit you’re freezing.”
She was shivering now, her breath visible in the air. If there was one thing my training had taught me, it was that it was easier to let people convince themselves than to convince them. She was either coming or not. To that end, I began to walk off the dock toward the house, giving her one last prod.
“Come on, Natalie.”
By the time I climbed the steps to the deck, I could sense her following. Sure enough, as I got to the door and turned, a very soaking wet Natalie was behind me. I opened the door and held it for her.
“Thank you,” she grumbled, clearly not thrilled to have anything to thank me for.
“You’re welcome,” I said sweetly, just to rankle her.
It worked.
Since I’d never had a woman hate me before—certainly not a young, beautiful one like Natalie—this was uncharted territory for me. There was really no need to press her already inflamed buttons, but the woman just made it too easy.
“Help yourself to some coffee,” I said, coming in behind her. “Mugs are in the cabinet right above. I’ll grab some dry clothes.”
The house was spacious, an open concept with a fireplace all the way up the wall in the great room. I bounded up the stairs, looked for something appropriate for her to wear, and took a pair of sweats and hoodie back down to where Natalie was, sure enough, sipping a mug of coffee.
No woman had any business looking that sexy after they were just doused in a lake. But she did. Except for her eyes. Big, beautiful eyes that hadn’t looked kindly at me once. And probably never would.
“Sweats. Hoodie. Pair of socks.” I smiled. “I was gonna grab some underwear but didn’t know if you were a boxers or briefs kinda girl.”
The faintest hint of a smile betrayed her before Natalie put her mug on the kitchen counter and took the clothes. Her fingers brushed me so briefly, I might have imagined it. Except, I didn’t. Her touch was electric. Something I wanted again, despite her hatred of me.
“Sorry,” I said belatedly. “I keep forgetting you work for the Trust. I’ll keep it more professional.”
It was clear by her expression Natalie hadn’t been thinking along those lines. She didn’t respond but did look around the room. I pointed to a door off the kitchen. “Bathroom.” And then, because I could be an asshole sometimes, “Unless you’d feel more comfortable changing in the bedroom?”
Her head cocked to the side. “Bathroom is fine, thank you.”
Natalie took her clipped tone and sweet body with her to the bathroom while I refilled my coffee and tried not to think about her changing in there. By now, she was likely completely naked. Unfortunately, that thought alone was enough to make me hard as a rock. Before I could walk, I needed to get my mind as far away from that bathroom as possible. Instead, I thought back to the moment she fell in the water.
“What’s so funny?”
Snagged. “I was just thinking about when you fell into the lake.”
“And that’s funny?” she asked with an armful of wet clothes. If I thought naked Natalie was sexy before, seeing her in my clothes was even more so. Her hair was still wet but on top of her head in a messy bun. She looked as if she’d just come from a bout of sex and a shower, both of which I’d gladly participate in with her.
Which got me thinking.
Even if Natalie didn’t hate me, she’d be firmly hands off. For some reason it had never occurred to me until now that tangling with her could be bad for the deal. She did work for Finger Lakes Land Trust, after all.
Heading to the kitchen, I opened and closed cabinets until I found what I was looking for. Handing her a plastic bag, I said, “I’ll meet you on the deck after you top off.”
With that, I headed back out, fully expecting Natalie to march out the door, down the steps and out onto the dock. Instead, she gently pushed open the door with a coffee in hand, no bag of wet clothes in sight.
“One coffee,” she said, sipping it with the reverence it deserved.
“Suit yourself,” I said. “But you’re welcome to stay for two.”
“Jaxon,” she said, with a “you’re a bad boy but not in a sexual way” tone.
“Jax. If you’re sharing a coffee with me, it’s Jax.”
Natalie took the seat next to mine. “Just one.”
Feet tucked under her, cross-legged, a coffee mug lifting to her mouth, Natalie could easily belong here, next to me like that.
What a ridiculous thought.
“Just one,” I repeated. “And a temporary truce.”
She frowned, not responding. But Natalie did seem to have softened her expression toward me, even if just slightly.
“So tell me,” she said finally. “What are your plans for my land?”