Chapter Sixteen #2
“She did and thirty-nine years ago, it was a much bigger deal than it is now. She knew she wanted children but didn’t think
she was the ‘fall in love’ type. She went the turkey baster route and nine months later, I was born.”
“That was here?” he asked.
“No, Manhattan. Mom’s a high-powered literary agent. My earliest memories are of high-rises and busy streets.”
“Port Palmas must have been a shock.”
“It was, but a nice one. When I was four, Mom asked what I thought about her getting pregnant again. I liked the idea of a
sister, although she explained she couldn’t control which she was going to have.”
She smiled at the memory.
“Did she use the same sperm?” he asked, only to make a face. “There’s a sentence I never thought I’d speak.”
She patted his arm. “You’re doing great with this and yes. Ryleigh and I are full sisters. We were still in New York then.
“The summer I turned ten and Ryleigh turned six we came out here on vacation. Mom had grown up in the area. She and Taft had
dated in high school and had broken up when she’d left for college. Somehow they connected and that was it. They fell back
in love and we moved here permanently.”
“Taft’s family owned the store before you?”
“Uh-huh. His parents converted it to the store you see now. The house had always been called the Painted Lady, so they took
the name for the store.” She smiled at the memories. “I’d always been a book person, so when I walked inside, it was love
at first sight. Taft had never had kids, so Ryleigh and I were the grandchildren his folks always wanted. They were thrilled
I was interested in continuing the legacy.”
“They’re also the ones who took in Ramon.”
“They were. The initial idea was to foster him until they could find him his forever home, but when that didn’t happen and
he and I clicked, they were kind of stuck with him.”
“No, they knew you’d want him for your own.”
“He’s my guy. I’m glad he’s not mad at me anymore.”
“As long as you’ve learned your cat lesson.”
She winced. “I have. He’s officially responsible for his own pet happiness.” She looked at the big, bright kitchen. “You could
get a cat or even a dog. You have plenty of room.”
“Not going to happen.”
“You’re not a pet person?”
“I am a pet person, but I’m not home enough to have a cat. It would be lonely and bored.”
“You could take a dog with you to work. That would be fun. He could ride in your truck with his head sticking out of the window. Or you could get something small you could carry around. Maybe in one of those slings you wear across your chest. Like a Chihuahua. That would be so cute. You could get a company sweatshirt for her.”
“Why are you torturing me?”
“You could call her Bella or Mandi with an i.”
“Not Pookie?”
She laughed and reached for a slice of red pepper. “Pookie would absolutely get a thumbs-up.” She finished chewing then asked,
“You and your ex didn’t have any pets?”
“She wasn’t a fan.”
“And you married her?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry. That was supposed to be an internal thought.”
“It was a sign,” he admitted. “I should have paid attention.”
“You told me that she wanted more than you two had here in town, which is on her. Did you have any fault in the breakup?”
“Sure. It’s never just one person screwing up. I felt her pulling back, so I knew something was wrong. I could have asked
her about it, pushed back on how she was acting. Instead I got all macho and withdrew, which meant neither of us was doing
anything to keep the marriage going. By the time I figured out I’d made the wrong choice, things between us were pretty much
over and there was no going back.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I had plenty of time to think when she was gone. You’re right—the house is big and when it’s just me, it can be lonely.”
His admission surprised her. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“Because you’re never lonely. You have the kids and your sister, the store, Ramon. Even Harris. It’s a crowd.”
He was right, she thought. Even on the weeks when she was away from her kids, she was never lonely. Her days were filled with
work, and she planned things in the evenings. If she just hung out, watching TV, Ramon was usually with her.
“I get the irony of it,” he said. “That I’m clear on the breakup because I put a lot of effort into understanding what went wrong. For a while I nearly convinced myself that if I’d put that much thought into the marriage we might still be together.”
“Do you think you could have made it?”
“Not so much. There were several fatal flaws. Even if I ignore the fact that I could have been a much better husband, there’s
still the problem that she and I wanted different things. I’m sorry it didn’t work out but I’m not surprised.”
He glanced at her. “Too much sharing?”
“Just the right amount. I’ve been thinking a lot about my marriage lately. What went wrong.” She thought about her recent
conversation with her ex. “Harris told me he didn’t feel welcome in our lives. That we got into a routine while he was gone
and when he showed up, he was just in the way.”
“Is that true?”
She glanced at him, then took a sip of her spritz. “Probably. I know it makes me a horrible person, but it was just plain
easier when he wasn’t around. I like being in charge and maybe because of that we never learned to be partners in the traditional
sense. Because of the store and Ramon, I couldn’t go on the road with him like some of the wives did. So we would go weeks
without seeing each other. The baseball season can be long—especially when you factor in training camp and preseason. Once
I had the kids, there was no way to pack them up and follow him from town to town, even if I wanted to. Then he got injured
and had to leave the sport.”
“That had to be tough on both of you.”
“It was. For Harris it was the death of a dream. It took him a couple of years to come to terms with the loss. I, on the other
hand, had two kids and a business. Suddenly my husband was around all the time, doing everything wrong and generally getting
in the way.”
She groaned. “That came out way more terrible than I wanted it to. No wonder he was unhappy.”
“Sounds like you were unhappy, too.”
“Yes, but not an excuse for making Harris feel unwelcome in his own home.” She looked at him. “If I’ve made myself seem too
unlikable, you could take me home now and have all the mac and cheese to yourself.”
“Lobster mac and cheese,” he corrected with a grin. “And I like having you here.”
“Even if I’m a hideous person?”
“You’re not.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Anytime.”
Three hours later Jax was happy to know that despite their conversational rocky start with the emotional dumps about their
exes, the rest of the conversation had been easy. They’d talked about his business, her kids, the remodel and how neither
of them ever wanted to move to a bigger city.
A little after nine, when the kitchen was clean and he’d insisted on packing up a to-go container of their delicious entrée,
they walked back to his truck.
“I had a good time,” she told him.
He chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
“I am. I haven’t been on a first date since college. I’m out of practice and I was nervous.”
“You did good.”
“Thank you. So did you, although I doubt you were nervous.”
He opened the passenger door and set the to-go box on the dashboard. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve dated in the last decade and you have all those women. You’re smooth.”
He looked into her eyes. “They’re not my women and I’m not smooth.”
“I think I’m the one who gets to say if you’re smooth or not.”
“Is this you being bossy?”
“A little.”
“Good. I like it.” With that, he pulled her close and kissed her.
Based on what she remembered from their last kiss (everything!) Jax immediately relaxed in his embrace and prepared herself
to be wowed. Marcus didn’t disappoint. He angled his head and lightly brushed her bottom lip with his tongue. She parted for
him, then prepared to get lost in a firestorm of sensations.
Sure enough, heat exploded inside of her and wanting surged. She wanted more than kissing—a lot more. Not that she was going
to say that. For one thing, she hadn’t put on her nicest bra and panties and, perhaps more importantly, she didn’t think she
was mentally or emotionally prepared to have sex with anyone. Two weeks ago she’d barely been thinking about dating. But it
was nice to have all the feels and do the wanting thing.
After a few minutes, they both drew back. They were breathing heavily and she had a feeling she looked as aroused as he did.
“You’re a very good kisser,” she murmured.
“Back at you.” He drew in a breath. “I should have waited until I’d taken you home, but I didn’t want to be kissing you behind
the bookstore.”
“Not exactly romantic?” she teased.
“No.”
She looked around at the tall trees and stars in the night sky. “I agree this is very nice.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll make love out here,” he told her.
She swung her gaze back to meet his. “An unexpected offer.”
“But an okay one?”
She thought about how his kisses made her feel. If she kept seeing him, sex was going to happen—a thought that could have
terrified her but suddenly didn’t. If anything, she was happy to start planning.
“A better-than-okay one.” She paused, then blurted, “But I’m going to need a little time.”
“I know. I’m good at being patient.”
“And kissing.”
He brushed his mouth against hers. “It’s the company I keep.”
He stepped out of the way, so she could climb into the truck. Later, as they pulled into town, he glanced at her.
“You’re smiling.”
“I am.”
“I’m glad.”