Chapter 2 #2
"No. I haven't met anyone exciting in a long time.
" As she said the words, Jax Ridley's handsome image flashed through her head.
He was definitely attractive, with his rugged good looks and deep blue eyes.
But even if she was intrigued by him, he was definitely not interested in her. He'd made that clear.
"Maybe you're too picky," Lexie suggested.
"I doubt that. My last online date left right after he finished eating a really expensive steak. He suddenly felt ill and had to leave, sticking me with the bill. I never heard from him again, which was fine with me."
"Well, hopefully, the next guy will be better. I have to say, I do not miss dating."
"I got off the apps a couple of weeks ago. I need a break." She paused as Paige and her six-year-old boy, Henry, came to the pool, settling into the lounger on her other side.
"I have a frog that swims," Henry told her, showing her a frog, whose legs were kicking away.
"That's cool," she said with a laugh.
"Stay in the shallow end," Paige told her son, then gave them a smile. "It is so damned hot."
"Mom, you said a bad word," Henry declared from the edge of the pool. "I get another quarter."
"Sorry, honey," Paige said quickly.
"Bad word jar?" she asked.
"Yes. I'm going to go broke if this heat doesn't let up." She looked up as Bree and her six-year-old daughter, Olivia, joined them.
"It looks like we've got a party," Kaia said, thinking her idea of relaxing by the pool had just gone out the window.
On the other hand, she had all her friends around her.
What could be better? She set down her drink.
"Save my seat. I'll be right back. I need to move my laundry along.
" While she hated doing laundry, it was much better when she could wait for her clothes to be done while sitting by the pool.
She threw on her sheer cover-up and made her way around the pool, stopping to say hello to Josie, Margaret and Frank, who were playing cards as usual.
"Hello, Kaia," Josie said with her perpetually cheerful smile. "Anything new?"
She shook her head, remembering Lexie's warning not to talk about Jax Ridley to her aunt. Although she couldn't help wondering again what the connection was between a woman in her early seventies and the thirty-something, very attractive man, who didn't seem to exist anywhere in the world but here.
Jax usually found doing laundry to be relaxing because it was so boring.
But as he set his basket on the table in the center of the room, his vibrating phone drew his attention once more.
It had been going off relentlessly for the past hour, with almost a dozen texts from Clay Henning, his former agent, two from Sharla Fields, Wren's publicist, and three from Wren herself.
Everyone seemed determined to bring him back into a life he'd left behind.
Frowning, he looked around for an empty washer, but they all appeared to be taken. He probably shouldn't have waited until Saturday to do the laundry. Two of the cycles appeared to be finished, so maybe he could move the laundry along. Before he could do that, his phone rang again.
Shaking his head, he decided the only way to end it was to end it. "Clay, you need to stop."
"I can't believe you finally answered."
"Because you're making me nuts. I told you I wanted no contact."
"That was months ago. Things have changed. You need to talk to Wren. She's in a good place now. And you can get back everything you lost."
"There's no way I could ever get back even half of what I lost," he said emphatically, pausing as the laundry door opened and Kaia walked in. Knowing Clay was about to launch into whatever scheme he had in mind, he said, "I have to go. Whatever you are trying to put together, the answer is no."
"Sorry to interrupt," Kaia said as she ventured farther into the room. "I just need to move my laundry."
"Great," he said tersely, not sure what she'd heard, not that it mattered, because she was the least of his concerns.
As she opened the washer and transferred her clothes into the dryer, he suddenly became aware of her beautiful bikini-clad body, which wasn't at all hidden by the sheer cover-up.
His breath caught in his throat as he noticed her creamy, slightly pink skin, her freckled shoulders, sexy curves, and long legs.
He swallowed back a sudden knot in his throat.
Of course, he'd noticed her before lounging by the pool.
He wasn't blind. But he also wasn't interested.
He couldn't be interested. He didn't need that kind of distraction.
She shut the dryer door. "Sorry if you had to wait." She tipped her head toward his laundry basket.
"It's fine."
"Are you okay?"
"Fine. I thought you were all about respecting the privacy of your neighbors," he grumbled, knowing he was taking out his bad mood on her.
"You're right. I shouldn't care if you're okay. You just seemed to be having some drama with someone on the phone."
"Drama that doesn't concern you. You do this a lot, don't you?"
"Do what?" she asked warily.
"Insert yourself into someone else's business, like you did last night with the old guy."
"Walter Cobb almost got himself killed. Since I've been called to treat him three times in the last two weeks, I was concerned about him. I still am. But he doesn't want my help. And that stubborn pride could be his downfall."
She might not be wrong, but he didn't feel like telling her that. He did, however, feel like a jerk for trying to turn someone's kind concern into something bad. "I'm sorry," he said shortly.
She raised a brow in surprise. "About what?"
"It was nice of you to be concerned about him. He does seem like he could use some help. But doesn't he have family to do that?"
"He lives with his granddaughter, but I've never met her. She works long hours and is currently out of town. I don't know their situation, but I do know he's not taking care of himself the way he should, and I worry about the consequences."
"Do you always get so involved with people you treat?" he asked.
"I try not to, but sometimes when there is more than one call, it's difficult to stay detached.
Walter also kind of reminds me of my father," she said unexpectedly.
"He's a veteran, too, and he doesn't like to ask or receive help.
Nor does he ever want to talk about what's bothering him.
" She gave a faint smile. "I seem to be surrounded by men who would really like me to leave them alone. I guess I should do just that."
"I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier. I was bothered before you walked in the door."
"From whoever was on the phone. I get it. Apology accepted."
"Thanks."
"I do have one more thing to say."
"What?"
"You should separate your colors from your whites." She tipped her head to his laundry basket. "That red shirt could turn everything else pink."
"I know how to do laundry. And I've washed that shirt before. It's fine."
"You like that word, don't you—fine?" she said with a drawl. "So, I'll just say fine and leave you alone."
"Fine," he said, unable to stop a reluctant smile from lifting his lips. Kaia Mercer definitely had a personality to match her red hair.
"That's a better look on you," she said approvingly. "You should try smiling more often." She left the laundry room, the door banging behind her.
He shook his head in bemusement, feeling like every time he talked to her, he ended up feeling like she'd somehow gotten something out of him he hadn't wanted to give, whether it was information or a smile.
He threw his laundry into the empty washer and started it.
Then he left the room, not at all surprised to see an impromptu party around the pool. There seemed to be one every other day.
Kaia was in the middle of things with Lexie, an attractive brunette who helped Josie run the building and was also a photographer, and Emmalyn, a sweet blonde elementary school teacher who was apparently getting married to a former military pilot, who was now doing search and rescue.
It was amazing how much he had learned from just leaving his windows open or walking through the courtyard.
"Jax," Josie said, waving to him from her card game.
He frowned, wishing he could ignore her, but she was the one person he couldn't just walk away from, not after what she was doing for him.
"We could use a fourth," she said. "Do you play gin rummy?"
"Sorry, I don't," he said automatically.
"Well, if you change your mind, you're welcome to join us."
"Appreciate that." He hurried across the courtyard and into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.
But with his windows open, he could still hear the party, and for the first time in a long time, it felt more appealing than repulsive.
But he couldn't join in. It would just lead to questions he didn't want to answer, to speculation and curiosity, maybe renewed media attention. He didn't want any of that.
But as he looked around his too-quiet apartment, he wasn't sure he wanted this much silence either. There was a lot of life happening right outside his door. How long would he be able to stay on the inside? Especially when so many people were trying to pull him out.
As his phone vibrated again, he picked it up and shut it off. Maybe he couldn't avoid his neighbors, but he could avoid the people from his past, and he was going to do that until, hopefully, they gave up.