Chapter 11 #2
"Yeah."
"Good. Because the guys have been giving me hell, and I need you to help me shut them up."
"How?"
He grins. "By kicking their asses at kickball."
The game is ridiculous. The Bad News Babes versus The Good News Guys—a rivalry that goes back years, though no one can remember how it started.
I'm at home-base for the Babes while Jax is playing shortstop for the Guys, which means we keep making eye contact and forgetting what we're supposed to be doing.
"FOCUS, KENDALL!" Grace shouts from the dugout. "Stop making googly eyes at the enemy!"
"He's not the enemy—"
"He's literally on the opposing team!" Riley calls from first base.
The Walking Ladies have set up camp along the third-base line with lawn chairs and what looks like an entire tailgate spread. They're wearing matching t-shirts that say "TEAM KENJAX" and waving pom-poms.
"GO KENDALL!" Gladys shouts, then immediately switches to, "GO JAX!" when she sees him. "We're rooting for love, not points!"
"That's not how sports work!" Hudson yells from centerfield.
"Sports are boring, dear. Romance is forever!" Florence adds, taking a suspicious sip from her lemonade’.
I notice Valerie and Brad standing across the parking lot, Brad holding up his phone, clearly recording everything. They're trying to look casual, but Declan keeps positioning himself between them and me whenever possible. Even during a fun game, I'm still under protection.
"Your turn, Kendall!" Kate calls.
I step up to the plate. Reid is pitching for the Guys, and he's got that competitive gleam that means he's taking this way too seriously. Reid is like that, though. In all aspects of his professional life as a doctor and his personal life as one of Hooplas owners.’
"Easy out!" Kane shouts from third base. "She hasn't played in months!"
"Excuse me?" I shoot back. "I was MVP two seasons ago!"
"That was before your drought!" he teases.
"He means athletic drought!" Jax quickly clarifies, glaring at Kane. "Definitely just sports-related! Right, Kane?"
"Sure it was," Brooke mutters from behind me.
Reid rolls the ball, and I nail it, sending it sailing between Jax and Hudson. I run, rounding first where Eli gives me a mock salute—even though he's on the other team—past second, and I slide into third just as Jax gets the ball.
"Safe by a mile!" Betty shouts from her lawn chair. "That's our girl! Wait, which team are we cheering for?"
"Whoever's winning!" Joan responds.
"So... the Babes!" Gladys adds, causing the Guys to groan.
The game continues with more comedy than competition. Nicholas, playing for the Guys despite being six and technically not on either roster, manages to get a hit off Grace, who dramatically accuses him of cheating by being ‘too adorable to pitch strikes to’.
"That's not an actual rule!" Declan protests.
"It should be!" Grace argues back.
The Walking Ladies switch sides every inning, their cheers getting increasingly creative and inappropriate.
"Nice buns, Hudson!" Florence shouts when he bends to field a ball. "Kate's a lucky woman!"
"My turn to kick!" Mia announces, approaching the plate with determination.
Jax is pitching now, and I try not to notice how good he looks—relaxed, laughing, nothing like the by-the-book officer from a week ago. He rolls the ball to Mia, who kicks it directly at him. He catches it easily.
"Out!" he calls.
"That's profiling!" Mia protests. "I was aiming for your pretty face to distract you!"
"That's definitely not in the rulebook," Jax laughs.
"We don't need rulebooks where we're going!" Gladys shouts, then pauses. "Wait, where are we going?"
"Hooplas, after this game!" someone yells.
"Perfect! I need to collect my winnings!"
When it's Jax's turn to kick, I find myself holding my breath. Charli's pitching for us now, and she's got her game face on.
"Remember when you left her for Dallas?" Charli calls out sweetly, tossing the ball from hand to hand.
“Yeah,” Jax answers. “Not one of my finer moments, I know.”
"Well, this is payback!"
"That was ten years ago!" Jax protests.
"I hold grudges! Don’t forget that." She rolls the ball hard and fast.
He kicks it straight up—a perfect pop fly. I'm closest to it, positioning myself underneath, but the sun's in my eyes and—
Jax crashes into me, catching me before I hit the ground, the ball bouncing off his shoulder.
"Interference!" Grace shouts. "That's an automatic out!"
"He saved her from falling to the ground!" Hudson argues. "That's chivalry!"
"Still against the rules!" Riley chimes in.
We're tangled together on the ground, his arms around me, both of us laughing and ignoring our friends arguing.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his face inches from mine.
"Better than okay," I admit.
"KISS HER! KISS HER! KISS HER!" all four Walking Ladies chant in unison.
"This is a family sporting event!" Captain Ramirez calls out from where he's been watching in the stands, trying to sound stern but clearly fighting a smile.
Jax helps me up, his hand lingering on my waist. The game continues, but the competitive edge is gone, replaced by pure fun. Even when the Guys score the winning run—Declan sliding home while we're all arguing about whether Hudson's last kick was fair or foul—no one really cares about the score.
"Rematch next week!" Kate announces. "Losers buy the first round!"
"We didn't lose," Grace protests. "We strategically came in second."
"That's literally the definition of losing," Kane points out.
Sawyer slaps Kane on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future.” He laughs at Kane’s shocked expression and then chases after Grace trying to apologize.
As everyone packs up, I notice Valerie and Brad have moved closer, still filming. Valerie's got that smirk that means she's planning something, and it just turns my stomach.
"Ignore them," Jax says, appearing beside me. "Whatever they're planning, the detectives will handle it." He takes my hand in his, and it quickly calms my racing heart.
The Walking Ladies shuffle past, Gladys pausing to pat my cheek. "It's about time you two figured it out. We've been waiting years for this show!"
"We're not a show," I protest.
"Oh, honey, in this town? Everything's a show. Might as well give us a good one!" She winks and follows her friends, their laughter carrying across the parking lot.
Someone clears their throat. We jump apart to find Captain Ramirez standing there, in civilian clothes but still radiating authority.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we've had a development and I want to keep you in the loop."
My stomach drops. "Another fire?"
"No. But we found something interesting in Brad's financial records. Large deposits from an account connected to Sunset Services."
"Valerie's husband's company," I breathe.
"Exactly. It's not enough for arrests yet, but we're building a case. In the meantime," he looks at Jax, "keep her close. They're getting desperate, and desperate people are dangerous."
He leaves, and suddenly the jovial atmosphere feels forced. Everyone knows something's wrong.
"Alright, everyone!" Kate calls out. "After-party at Hooplas! First round's on Hudson!"
"Hey!" Hudson protests. "Why is it on me?"
"Because, that’s why." She laughs at him.
As everyone packs up, Jax takes my hand again. "Okay?"
"They're not going to stop, are they?"
"No. But neither are we." He squeezes my hand. "And we're not alone. Look around."
I do. Practically the entire town is here, rallying around us.
The Walking Ladies are planning some kind of surveillance schedule.
The Bad News Babes are coordinating something on their group text that probably violates several privacy laws.
Hudson and the guys are deep in conversation with Captain Ramirez.
"They're all here for you," Jax says. "For us."
"It's overwhelming." I admit.
"It's family," he corrects. "The kind you choose."
Valerie walks by, fake smile in place. "Enjoy it while it lasts," she says sweetly. "Tomorrow changes everything."
"Is that a threat?" Jax asks.
"It's a promise," she says, then walks away, her heels clicking on the pavement.
"We should skip the party," I say. "Figure out what she's planning—"
"No." Jax turns me to face him. "We're going to the party. We're going to be with our friends. We're going to show them they can't scare us into hiding, and we’re going to let the department handle them."
"But—"
"Trust me?"
It's a loaded question. Trust has never come easy for me, not since everyone I loved left. But looking at Jax, remembering how he held me last night, how he's stood by me through everything these past few days, I realize I already do trust him.
"Yeah," I say. "I trust you."
He kisses me then, right there in front of everyone. Not a quick peck, but a real kiss that makes my knees weak and my heart race. When he pulls back, half the crowd is cheering and the other half is exchanging money.
"Gladys wins again!" someone shouts.
"I always do, dear! I haven’t made it to my eighties without learning a thing or two." Gladys calls back. "Now, who had money on a public declaration of love before Tuesday?"
As we head to the cars, surrounded by friends who are basically family, I catch sight of my reflection in a window. I look happy. Despite everything—the threats, the fires, the cameras—I look happy.
Maybe that's what love is. Not the absence of problems but finding someone worth facing them with.
"Ready?" Jax asks, holding open his truck door.
"For Hooplas? Sure."
"For everything that comes next?"
I think about Valerie's threat, tomorrow's planned inspection, and all the unknowns still hanging over us. Then I think about last night, about ten years of loneliness, about the man standing in front of me who borrowed a goat just to make me smile.
"Yeah," I say, climbing into the truck. "I'm ready."
As we drive toward Hooplas, his hand finds mine across the console. The afternoon sun streams through the windows, and for just this moment, everything feels possible.
Tomorrow we'll deal with Valerie and Brad and whatever scheme they're hatching. Tomorrow we'll figure out how to save my career and catch the people trying to destroy it.
But today? Today I'm going to hold this man's hand and let myself believe in second chances.
The Hooplas parking lot is already packed when we arrive. Through the windows, I can see our friends gathering, drinks already flowing, laughter spilling out into the evening air.
"Last chance to run," Jax says, but he's smiling.
"Rule number four," I tell him. "No more running."
"I like that rule the best."
"I'm full of excellent rules now."
He comes around to my side of the now cleaned up truck, helps me down, and keeps my hand in his as we walk toward the door.
And for the first time in ten years, I feel safe and loved.