Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jax
Hesitation floods Lauren’s face. It’s sad to see the bold and excited version from last night gone so soon. I hate Austin for doing this to her, and I hate myself for not stepping in to help her sooner.
“I just made the list. I should probably—”
“It doesn’t have to be anything big.” I pull the bacon out of the pan and split it between the two plates on the counter. “We could just buy you a book at the bookstore so you can start reading.”
“That’s all I have to do?”
“Yes.” I flip a golden-brown pancake. “In case I didn’t make it clear last night, you don’t have to do all of this alone.”
“Okay, well maybe we can do it later?” She bites her lip as she pulls her phone from her pocket. “I have a couple things I need to do this morning, and I’m already getting a late start to the day.”
“Let’s eat some breakfast and then I can help you before we go to the bookstore.”
I add three blueberry pancakes to her plate.
“Thank you.”
Grabbing my own loaded plate, I join her at the kitchen island.
I drizzle syrup across my pancakes, slice into one, and am half a second away from chomping down on my bite when she asks, “So is this the Jax Greer treatment?” When I furrow my brow at her, she cheerily adds, “You know, after you sleep with a woman? Is this what you do?”
I set my fork down, my stomach churning. “No, it’s not. When you’re trying to keep things casual, making a woman breakfast the next day doesn’t make any sense.”
My words have a bite to them, but Lauren doesn’t seem to notice. I hate that she sees me as someone who sleeps around. I guess I did it to myself: I’ve been too afraid of hurting anyone and too caught up in my feelings for the same, unavailable girl. But I want to be more.
“Too bad, because these pancakes are amazing!” She assesses the ingredients on the counter. “Is this store-bought mix? I didn’t think I had any in the pantry.”
“They’re homemade. Aunt Carol used to make them for me in high school.”
“Wow. Make sure to tell her thank-you for me.”
She shamelessly shovels pancakes into her mouth, doing a giddy little dance as she does so. Wisps of hair fall out of the braid she slept on last night, framing her freckled face. Her skin is still glowing, which makes me somewhat reconsider my judgments on her time-consuming regimen.
She glances up at me, her smile gone. “Why do you always keep things casual with women? Why not have a real girlfriend?”
“I don’t want one.”
“Why not?”
I kill some time and take her empty plate, unwilling to dive into the fact that I haven’t believed myself worthy of caring for someone like that after I failed to stand up for my mom every time my dad drank too much.
And how would I even explain that I haven’t met anyone who’s held a candle to Lauren since we met nine years ago. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure, just let me change.” She pauses, eyeing me and pointing her finger from my head to my toes and back again. “I hope you have a shirt lying around somewhere because that outfit is very impractical for ranch work.”
She slips past me with a smirk.
“You were looking, huh?”
“You wish! Don’t flatter yourself.” Her bedroom door slams closed.
She’s right. I’ve been wishing Lauren Rhodes would notice me from the day I first laid eyes on her.
It took Lauren a while to get out of work-mode in the bookstore. She made a beeline for the Ranching and Agriculture section, and I had to peel her away, but once she started exploring other sections, her eyes filled with wonder.
When we walk out of Molly’s five minutes before closing, I’m still riding the high of seeing the smile on Lauren’s face when I bought her both the romance books she was torn between.
“Thank you again for these.” Lauren lifts the bag in her hand. “I’m excited to start. I’ll have to figure out how to work it into my routine a couple times a week.”
“That’s the whole point of this list, to bring some joy into your life.”
“I think it’ll help.” She scuffs her boot on the sidewalk. “Do you have some in your life?”
Her question catches me off guard, and I tense up.
It’s not like she asked me to tell her about my past, which I’ve hid from most people in town, both out of shame and a desire not to revisit it.
Yet it still feels like she’s asking me to give her a piece of my heart, something I don’t normally do with women, but especially not with Lauren.
I’ll never get that piece back from her.
I lift my hat, raking my hands through my waves before putting it back on my head. “What do you mean?”
“I was just wondering. If you’re the one who’s supposed to be helping me check things off this list, I should probably vet you and make sure you have some in your own life.”
“I do,” I say, automatically.
“Like what?”
We’re still just standing outside Molly’s place, so I take her hand, leading her to our parking spot while I figure out how to answer this question without saying you.
Once we’re in my truck, she buckles up and swivels toward me expectantly. I guess I should’ve anticipated that.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Okay, fine.” I turn my key in the ignition. “I like my mom’s cooking, and I like seeing her happy. She and Aunt Carol are both very important to me.”
“That’s nice, but you should have things you can do for yourself that make you happy too, right?”
Right. I glance over my shoulder as I back out onto the road. “I like hunting. There’s no better feeling than being in a deer stand, disconnected from nature. I like the concentration it takes to keep my hands from shaking when I draw my bow back, the satisfaction of getting a whitetail.”
“When was the last time you went hunting?”
“I guess it’s been a while.” I used to be better about that when Charlie was around, but I’ve spent the last couple years focused more on making something out of myself than enjoying hobbies.
“Good thing it’s hunting season now.”
I glance her way as I flick my blinker on and turn off Roots Road. The corners of her lips are curving into a smile.
“I guess I could try to find some time for it.”
“There you go.”
I wonder if she’s doing this because she thinks she owes me after I helped her make the list. I open my mouth to tell her this isn’t supposed to be a transactional arrangement, but she speaks first. “What about work? Do you enjoy your work?”
I punch in the code at the gate to Copper Hill and marvel in the beauty of this place.
Even in November, there are still some wildflowers growing along the fence line.
The cattle graze peacefully to our right.
There isn’t a cowboy in sight. I’m sure they’ll all gathered in the bunkhouse for supper.
It’s such a different lifestyle from mine—getting up with the sun instead of going to sleep just before it rises.
I loved working on this ranch with Charlie back in the day.
“Jax?” Lauren leans forward to inspect my face.
“I don’t mind bartending.”
“Is there something else you’d like to do someday?”
I stopped wanting things for myself a long time ago. “Maybe.” I shrug.
I brace myself for her to ask me more questions as I pull into her driveway, but instead, she leans in to give me a quick hug. “Thank you again for the books. It was a delightful surprise.” She puts her hand on the door. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”
That’s it? I’m not ready to say goodbye. If I’m not careful, I’ll close in on a full twenty-four hours spent with Lauren, but I can’t help it. She’s like a drug.
I shuffle out of the truck, walking to her doorstep. Before she can reach for the doorhandle, I blurt, “Do you want me to cook you dinner?”
She hikes her thumb toward the house. “I have leftovers in the fridge that need to get eaten and a couple hours of research to do tonight. Besides, you’ve done enough for me already.”
“I don’t mind.”
“That’s okay.” She swings her door open. “I really need to get started on regenerative ag research if I’m going to implement it in the spring.”
“Of course.” I glance down at the ground. “I’ll, uh, see you soon then. I plan on following through with my promise to help out around here.”
“Thank you.”
I take the cue and head out, bounding down the steps of her front porch and trying to block out the shame of her rejecting my offer.
As I open my truck door, she calls out, “Do you make dinner that’s as good as your pancakes?”
I glance up, unable to stop my grin. “Better.”
“Can you make pasta?”
“The best pasta.”
“Then sign me up for dinner soon.” A smile paints her lips.
I spend the entire car ride home plotting how to get more one-on-one time with Lauren as soon as possible.