Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lauren
I swing my legs from the barstool at the kitchen island, taking in a deep breath and trying to focus on the handsome man in front of me right now.
It’s been hard to relax this evening. My goal for the day was to map out at least four of the paddocks for AMP grazing, but I only got two done because I got a call about one of our cattle getting caught in the fence.
It took four of us to get it out, and when we did, her leg was scratched up enough that we had to call the vet.
I barely finished in time to see Jax, and now I’m both behind and exhausted.
But here he is, cooking me dinner and looking incredible in that tight white tee and those gray sweatpants. Knowing how much I love the taste of red wine with my pasta, he brought me a pretty expensive bottle, which he won’t even have a sip of.
I’m trying to enjoy it all, but it’s nearly impossible to let go of everything I should be doing instead of sitting around having dinner cooked for me.
Plus, putting on a face is really difficult with Jax.
It’s like he sees my soul, which is marvelous but frustrating when I’m trying not to ruin our evening.
In an attempt to at least shift my thoughts, I focus on how to be the best girlfriend for Jax. Spinning my wineglass around in my hand nervously, I ask, “Are you sure you’re okay with me drinking if you’re not going to drink?”
Jax pulls a fettuccini noodle from the pot, blowing on it and holding it out for me to test. “I’m a bartender. People drink in front of me all the time. I’m fine.”
“Why did you decide to bartend given all the bad memories you have involving alcohol?” I take the noodle off the spoon, sampling it. “Those are perfect. Pull ’em.”
He turns the burner off and shifts his attention to the alfredo sauce, stirring it carefully.
“I mean, part of it was just taking the opportunity that was given to me.”
“But there’s something else you haven’t told me.”
“I like being there to look out for people.” He doesn’t lift his gaze from the pot. “I know alcohol can make people do dumb stuff, and this has given me the chance to step in and advocate for those who find themselves in vulnerable positions.”
“Like when Austin harassed me that night.”
“Yeah, I guess it triggered me to see him grab you like that.”
I don’t know how I never connected the dots.
He moves the sauce off the burner. “Are you ready to eat?”
I don’t press the issue as I slip off my barstool and walk into his outstretched arms. When my chest meets his, he wraps his arms around me and places his chin on top of my head. I love the way his six-foot-four frame engulfs me. It makes me feel safe.
“Not to sound clingy already, but I kind of missed you this week,” I murmur against his chest.
He presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I couldn’t be at the ranch more. The bar nearly fell apart without me last weekend. I’ve spent almost every day since cleaning up messes that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
“It’s okay. I managed.”
“Tell me about your week. What have I missed?” He dishes up two plates of pasta, bringing them to the kitchen table and lighting a single candle in the center.
I sit down next to him and immediately pull my phone from my pocket to show him pictures of the puppy from yoga. “I guess the big highlight is that you have some competition. I fell in love this week.”
I thrust my phone in his direction, showing him a photo of the tiny girl with her paws crossed over each other.
“Look at her! She’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
We joked that she is such a lady for crossing her paws like that.
” I swipe over. “Olivia took this video of us as we were leaving. She wouldn’t stop following me. It was so cute.”
“She has freckles just like you do.” He points to light brown flecks that cover her snout, the whites of her paws, and the spot between her eyes.
“Oh my gosh! She does. That just makes me love her more.”
“And to think you used to not like freckles.” He twirls pasta on his fork, looking smug.
“I didn’t like my freckles. There’s a difference.”
“Well, either way, it sounds like it’s meant to be.” He shrugs. “Does this mean you’re going to get a dog?”
“I don’t know.” I set my phone down on the table, grabbing my fork. “Sometimes I feel like I can hardly take care of myself.”
“An animal is a huge responsibility. I’m glad you don’t take that lightly. I think that means you’ll be an intentional dog owner.”
He hums. “Sometimes it takes caring for someone else to help us learn how to prioritize ourselves. She might be what you need to finally let yourself enjoy a walk here and there and to finally go to bed at a reasonable hour. You should consider getting her, especially if it means helping a dog in need. I like seeing the way you light up, and looking at these pictures, it looks like she’s rather fond of you too. ”
I glance down at the picture on my phone again. “Just like that.” Jax points to the involuntary smile that’s grown on my face. “Do you know what you’d call her?”
“Bella.” I hold up the picture. “Doesn’t she look like a Bella?”
“She does.”
“When I’m ready, I’ll adopt, and it won’t just be one dog. I want a couple, but I need to work on a few things for myself first.”
“That’s very honorable.”
I plaster on a smile, hoping I didn’t say too much.
I don’t want to ruin our evening by telling him how exhausted I’ve been lately.
Between Austin invalidating my feelings when we were together and me taking over for Charlie when he left, I’ve learned to keep things pushed down.
But Jax is so wonderful. Maybe I should tell him.
Maybe he’d want to know. He’d probably even be supportive.
“You look distracted, Freckles. What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” Jax’s rough voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I’m honestly a little relieved.
“I was just thinking about how incredible this pasta is. Where’d you learn to make it?” I shove a mountainous bite into my mouth.
He assesses me with a look of doubt for a little too long, but finally he decides not to press me any further.
“My mom got it from a neighbor when we lived in Oklahoma. I think she knew what was going on in our house. Mom refused to accept help, but she’d occasionally accept dishes the neighbor would bring over.
” He shakes his head. “A couple years later, after she mastered the recipe, Mom taught me how to make it.”
“That was nice of your neighbor to share her recipe. I’m certainly grateful.” I twirl another large bite to prove my point.
As we finish our meal, Jax’s gaze on me doesn’t waver, like he knows I’m hiding something and staring me down is going to help him get to the bottom of it. Still, he doesn’t try to pull it out of me.
I polish off my glass of wine, and by the time I swipe our empty plates from the table, we’ve both settled back into some semblance of ease.
Setting the plates in the kitchen sink, I say, “Thank you again, Jax. This was delicious.” I swipe the sponge over my empty dish before pausing. “You know, it’s kind of annoying that your name is so short. It’s hard to give you a cute nickname.”
“My nickname for you has nothing to do with your name. I guess I’m more creative than you.” He shrugs, moving in next to me to dry a dish.
I press my lips together. “Honestly, you probably are because I’ve got nothing.” I empty the leftover meal into a Tupperware before putting the pan in the sink.
“Let me clean that.”
“No way. You cooked. I clean.”
“I wanted to make tonight special for you. Let me do both.”
“That’s sweet, but no.” I snatch the pan back. “Maybe your nickname should be Hog since you like to hog all the chores.”
“That’s a horrible nickname.”
“Grinch could always make a comeback.”
“No, absolutely not.” He hip-checks me before crossing the kitchen to put the dry pan away.
“I can make it cuter and call you Grinchie.”
“That’s even worse!”
“Come on. I need something special to call you.” An idea flashes in my head. “Maybe I need to lengthen your name instead of trying to shorten it. I’ll call you Jaxon.”
He bursts into laughter. “I don’t know how to tell you that’s an awful idea.”
“You just did.” I playfully shove his shoulder.
“Maybe you need to give this a little more time. Don’t rush it and pick a name you’ll regret.”
“Okay, fine, Grinchie.”
“I’m ignoring you.” He holds his finger up in a matter-of-fact way before setting down the dish towel he used to dry the pan. He closes the two-foot gap between us, kissing me slowly. “How about we find something to do while you think a little more about that nickname?”
“Like what?”
“Well, we can’t exactly go out in public, so do you want to play a game or something?”
“I have a game I used to play in college that could be fun!”
“Can just two people play it?”
“Of course.”
I dash down the hallway, opening the tiny closet at the end and rummaging around. I quickly return to the living room with a box of cards, setting it down on the table and patting the spot on the couch next to me.
“The game you used to play in college is Uno?” Jax doesn’t fight his laughter.
“Kind of. It’s a more adult version of Uno. Sit, I’ll explain it.”
When he does, I immediately snuggle into his side. He smells so good, and his warmth is enough to spark a fire.
“Okay, so we’ll play Uno like normal, but we have to do certain actions for certain cards.
In college, any time someone played a skip or reverse card, the receiver had to drink.
We can change that rule though.” I press my finger to my lips as I think.
“How about any time you play a skip or reverse card on someone, you get to ask them a question?”
“How do you play a reverse card on someone?”
“It’s just whoever was supposed to go next but doesn’t get to go because the card was played.
Since there are only two of us, the person who doesn’t play the card will tell a truth.
Next rule: any time a change color card comes up, the player gets to choose a person to dare to do something.
Again, in our case, any time I play one, I will give you a dare, and any time you do, you’ll give me a dare. ”
His brows knit. “You really played this in college?”
“All the time. We did the stupidest thi—I mean, it’s fun.”
“I’m about to get into trouble, aren’t I?”
“I’d never get you into trouble. I’m a perfect angel, remember?”