Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Jax
When we’re back in the comfort of our hotel room, Lauren looks thoroughly confused. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I thought you said there was more to the surprise?”
“Buying you all those wasn’t enough?” I tease.
“It was more than enough. I’m actually a little relieved there’s nothing else. I already have no idea how I’m going to make this up to you.” She points to the stack of books next to her suitcase.
A smile slips onto my lips, and I pull her in close. “You don’t have to make it up to me. I’m doing this because I want to.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I do have one more part of the surprise. Get into something comfy, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
She groans defiantly, but there’s a spark in her eyes, and a smile tugs at her lips as she hesitantly moves toward her suitcase to pull out a change of clothes.
While she’s in the bathroom, I make a quick call to room service, and by the time I’m done, she’s coming out wearing a pair of black sweatpants that cinch at the waist and one of Charlie’s football T-shirts from high school.
She’s taken off her makeup, and there’s something about her naked hazel eyes that makes it impossible to look away.
“Will you do my skincare while we wait?” I ask.
“Only if you tell me what we’re waiting for.”
“No way! That defeats the purpose of a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
“Fine.” She tosses her head back as if she’s already exhausted from all this waiting. She heads to the bathroom, grabbing her bag of toiletries. “Come on then.”
She puts a little dollop of oil onto her palm and looks at me with those big beautiful eyes, waiting for permission to touch me. If only she knew how badly I crave her gentle, comforting caress.
I prop myself on the counter and give her a nod, so she places her fingertips to my cheeks, smoothing the oil across my face.
I have to fight to keep myself from closing my eyes as I relish our closeness.
The warmth of her contact liquifies my body.
I love that I can smell the scent of her honey shampoo and count the freckles on her cheeks.
Flecks of gold and green kaleidoscope in her stunning eyes, mesmerizing me.
Once the oil has been evenly distributed, she wets a washcloth with warm water and wipes it across my face, explaining each methodical step again and making sure to show me the dirt that just came off my face.
I pick up one of the bottles on the counter, inspecting it. “Did you have fun today?”
“I did. Did you?”
“A lot more than I expected to have at a ranching conference.” I’ve found the lectures to be interesting. I almost wish Lauren would accept more help because I have a few ideas I’ve picked up on that might make the cowboys’ work more efficient.
She pulls a bottle of toner from the bag, replacing it with the cleansing oil we just used. Music from the hotel room next door fills the comfortable silence between us as I watch her apply her own.
She hums along until she finishes up, turning to me and asking, “Is there a reason you like John Michael Montgomery so much? He has some great songs, but I don’t know anyone else who’d happily listen to the same artist on repeat.”
She rubs the cool liquid across my clean skin, and the sensation scrambles my brain.
I drag my lip in with my teeth, trying to refocus.
I could keep things light, but there’s something about the curious look in Lauren’s eyes that compels me to go deeper with her.
Besides, the man who deserves her would be willing to open up.
She busies herself with switching out the toner for moisturizer as she waits for my answer. I can’t believe I know words like toner and moisturizer, and I definitely can’t believe I’m about to share this with her.
Lauren has me in a chokehold, and she doesn’t even realize it.
She brushes the smooth cream onto my face and turns to wash her hands off. I use her to calm me as I blurt out the words before I can think any more about this. “His music makes me feel safe.”
She gives me a questioning look as she wipes her hands off on the towel.
“I’m sure by now you’ve heard the stories about my dad.”
She nods. The whole town wouldn’t stop talking when my mom and I first showed up at Aunt Carol’s doorstep covered in bruises with not a penny to our name.
“He was an addict. Gambling was his drug of choice. He just couldn’t say no to a bet.
” I stare at the floor. “He was always convinced he’d strike it big on the next one, but it’d only lead to more debt, and when he was down, he got angry.
He never took responsibility for his own actions.
He found ways to blame it on my mom and me.
He’d yell…” I wince, realizing I haven’t told this story to anyone except for Charlie, and that was years ago.
It’s been easier to bury all of this down deep.
“When the yelling wasn’t enough, he used his fists.
We slipped out in the middle of the night, when Mom was certain he’d drunk enough alcohol to knock him out cold.
” I grind my teeth together, not wanting to say the next part.
“I know I was supposed to be the strong one, the one who helped her, but I was terrified. I was certain he’d find us in Roots.
I mean, it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out we’d gone to stay with Mom’s sister.
But I don’t think Dad even missed us. He was probably glad we were gone because he didn’t have to hide his addiction anymore, and he didn’t have to hide the fact that he was selling drugs to try to pay for all his gambling debts. ”
Lauren’s eyes go round. She shuffles closer to me, sandwiching herself between my thighs and rubbing my back gently.
“About three weeks after we left, we found out my dad was arrested for dealing. Aunt Carol took us out to dinner at Sweet Mae’s to celebrate, and John Michael Montgomery’s music was playing in the diner.
Something was wrong with the stereo, so it played on loop.
Now, whenever I hear his voice, I have that feeling of being safe and happy again. ”
Lauren places her hands on my thighs. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to. I just wanted to understand you a little better. I should’ve asked you if your favorite color is green or something like that.”
“It’s not green.”
“See, I was wrong. Tell me what it is then.”
“It’s hazel.” I grab her waist and turn her toward the mirror. “More specifically, it’s the color of your eyes.”