7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
T he next day when Carson stepped through Raegan’s front door, her best friend shoved an arm full of deflated balloons at her, commanding her to inflate and decorate. Carson was happy to oblige, but her lungs were even happier when she spied the helium tank sitting on the kitchen table.
“You’ll never guess what happened this week at work,” Raegan said, fretting over the pasta salad in the kitchen. “First, a little girl throws up all over the X-ray machine. And I mean covers the machine in vomit. Then the next day, another little girl bites my dental assistant.”
Carson laughed over the whirring of expanding balloons.
“It’s not funny,” Raegan whined. “My assistant threatened to quit.”
“Come on. You have to admit it is kind of hilarious.”
Raegan wiped her hands on a rag before tugging down the white cover-up she wore over her mocha-brown swimsuit and adjusting her gold necklaces. “You’re right. It is a little funny.”
The door to the garage opened. Hunter squeezed himself and the two bags of ice he was holding through it. “This is all they had. Apparently, the whole town needed ice today.” He hefted the bags onto the countertop, the ice crunching within the plastic. “Hey, Carson. Happy birthday to me, right? Have to go get the ice for my own party. ”
“Oh, get over yourself, and take these to the coolers on the back porch.” Raegan patted his back while waving him off with her other hand.
The doorbell dinged.
“I’ll get it,” Carson offered, having just finished tying the last balloon.
One by one guests filtered in. Somehow Carson became the party usher, welcoming those who arrived and showing them to the backyard where the festivities were taking place.
“Food is ready,” Raegan reported, entering from the backyard with an empty dish that had once held raw meat and placing it in the sink. “Go get a hot dog before the carnivores out there eat everything.”
The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the party. Some guests—the carnivores—were already overfilling their plates, the paper goods bending underneath the weight. The pool was also overfilled. Water sloshed out and Carson wondered if there would be any left after the party.
Stomach rumbling, she snatched herself a plate and squeezed between two meaty men. The sliding glass door squeaked, and when she glanced up, Jax was just stepping onto the back porch. For a brief second she made eye contact with him, and the spoon full of fruit she was holding slipped from her grasp and clattered back into the plastic bowl. The newly formed smile beaming on Jax’s face faded when a set of abs in only swim trunks pulled him in the opposite direction of her.
Satisfied with a hot dog and blueberries she had fished out of the pile of fruit, she searched for a space to eat. The tables were full, but it was too beautiful of a day to go back inside. Not daring to eat in the pool area for fear of being drenched, Carson chose to sit on a patch of freshly mowed grass, balancing her plate on her crossed legs. The blades poked her thighs through the bike shorts she wore, along with the spirit jersey she’d purchased during a San Diego trip with Luke the summer before the accident.
As she picked at her food, Carson tried to decipher the game being played in the pool. At least, she assumed it was a game, as there was a red ball being thrown around with shouts of victory and moans of defeat. After a minute of spectating, she concluded it wasn’t the first time this game had been played.
Every once in a while, her eyes would wander to find Jax. The last two times she had snuck a peek, he’d been sitting in a small circle of friends, laughing with a plate of food in his lap. Once he caught her staring, to which she gave him a smile and a small wave. After that, she tried to avoid looking in his direction all together. Except her eyes would betray her and sneak a quick glimpse at him. And every damn time, he was sneaking a glimpse back at her.
Eventually Raegan found her, plopping herself down on the grass “Having fun?”
“I’m enjoying the water Olympics.”
“Boys.”
Someone must have scored a goal, or whatever they were calling it, as the pool erupted with hollers.
“My neighbors are going to file a complaint,” Raegan mumbled. “How was that legal something something convention?”
“Western Legal Professionals Convention,” Carson corrected her.
“Whatever, same thing. Anything exciting happen?”
Carson could still feel the unpleasantness of her and Will’s exchange, the flowery cologne and the graceless handshake. Will’s hand was nothing like Jax’s. His was clammy and limp, while Jax’s was warm and strong.
“I got asked on a date.”
Raegan’s head turned so fast, Carson thought she was going to snap her neck. “What?”
“An attorney from California was there. Will. He wanted to take me out to dinner,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her bare legs.
“. . . and did you go?” Raegan asked. Was there a hint of hope in her voice?
Carson shook her head. “No. I’m not ready for dating. At least, not yet.” Or ever.
“Mind if I join?” Jax had appeared out of thin air, towering over them.
Raegan looked a little annoyed at him for interrupting their girl talk, but said, “Yeah. I need to go get the cake ready anyway. You can keep Carson company.” Raegan lifted her hand, and Jax hoisted her up.
“Don’t you need some help?” Carson asked.
“No, I got it.” Then Raegan grinned wickedly. “But don’t think our conversation is over.” The gold chains around her neck clanged as she turned and strolled back to the house.
Jax took Raegan’s place on the ground. He must not have worried about getting grass stains on his white shirt as he leaned back on his elbows, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, and let out an exhausted sigh.
“Long day?”
“I covered a buddy of mine’s swing shift. I’ve been running on six hours of sleep for the past three days,” Jax said.
“Hunter and Raegan have a huge, expensive bed inside.”
Jax smirked. “Don’t tempt me. I’m just glad I have the next four days off.”
Putting her plate of a half-eaten hotdog and two blueberries on the grass, Carson unfolded her legs and leaned back on her hands, digging her fingers into the cool soil. Then, thinking about the tiny critters who made their home in the lawn, she quickly retracted them .
It had been a while since the last time she saw Jax at the auction a month ago.
Oh. The auction and the stupid green dress.
Hunter’s date with Gloria turned out to be a blast. Besides her wandering hands, he’d thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the old woman.
“How was your date?” Carson asked. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she regretted them. She did not want to know how well it went.
Except her question seemed to drain him. The smile on Jax’s face faded, and his body sagged even more. He stared down at his black Vans.
“That bad?” she asked, trying to sound sympathetic. Secretly, her insides were dancing with glee.
“Worse,” he said. “She was supposed to meet me at the restaurant but showed up almost an hour late. Then she was downing martini after martini. When she wasn’t drinking, she was talking about either herself or her ex-husbands.” He paused to rub his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.
“Classy,” Carson murmured sarcastically.
“That’s not all.” Jax stopped rubbing his eyes. “She got so drunk she started taking her clothes off. The cab could not have picked her up soon enough.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Carson was sorry. But only a little.
“Thanks, but I feel bad for her though,” he said. “I really have the best luck with women, don’t I?”
A scuffle drew their attention back to the house. Hunter was wrestling with a few of the guys, hooting as they took jabs at one another. Someone put him in a headlock, and he reciprocated by hooking his leg around theirs to trip them up.
“Are they always like that?” Carson asked.
Jax glanced back at her, looking grateful that she changed the subject. “ Yes, but they’re family so you get used to it.”
“You like being a firefighter?”
“I do.”
“What made you decide to be one?”
Jax gave her his full attention, the scuffle forgotten. “When I was a kid, my dad was drunker than usual. He fell asleep with a lit cigarette—yes, it does actually happen—and the carpet caught fire. My oldest brother saw the flames, and by the time the fire department came the fire was completely out. We ended up having to toss the couch and curtains. It took my ma a while to scrub the black off the ceiling so we didn’t have to look at it anymore.
“I can remember when the fire truck rolled up to our house. I watched all the firefighters doing their job. They let me and my three brothers sit in the engine and honk the horn. I thought it was so cool.” Then a slight darkness shadowed Jax’s face. “They kept us entertained while my ma talked with some other people who showed up. I later learned that it was Child Protective Services investigating the incident.
“I guess those firefighters made an impression on me, because I dedicated my life to become like them. I took the test on my nineteenth birthday.”
Carson’s hand, only a few inches from his on the grass, twitched in its direction. She wanted to comfort young Jax and his brothers, even his mother. It was difficult to imagine what it would be like to discover your house on fire from your own father’s carelessness. A parent was supposed to protect their child from danger, not be the danger.
A hypocritical pain sliced through her chest. A parent was supposed to protect their child . She was supposed to protect her child.
“I can’t believe your dad did that,” she said. I can’t believe I did that .
Jax rolled it off his shoulders. “Accidents happened a lot in that house. ”
“Oh.” He didn’t need to explain any further.
A whistle from Raegan alerted them that dessert was ready.
“Well, Mr. Hoover, would you like some cake?” Jax rose before her, offering his hand. He pulled Carson up, and for a second she thought he would keep holding her hand, but he dropped it, causing a minor twinge in her gut.
Everyone crowded around the extensive, concrete patio table for the celebratory birthday ritual. Raegan had placed the red velvet cake full of lit candles in the center. One of the meaty men from earlier squeezed in front of Carson, pressing her right into Jax. Jax’s musky scent enveloped her, making her dizzy. It reminded her of being in his truck. Then she felt his hand on the small of her back. Apparently, Jax didn’t feel the need to move as they stood crammed together. Every part of Carson that was pressed up against him pulsated with electricity.
She tried very hard to focus on singing happy birthday, but Jax’s breath was hot on the top of her head, sending goosebumps down her arms.
The song ended, Hunter blew out the candles, and Raegan plastered a very happy birthday kiss on him. The table whistled and cheered. Carson glanced up at Jax and pretended to gag at her best friend’s display of affection. He suppressed a laugh.
With her slice of sugar, Carson sat at the table, listening to the banter bouncing back and forth between the leftover party guests.
Tim, whom she’d learned was the captain at Station 71, had just finished telling a story about a kid who was almost beheaded by an invisible wire while riding his quad. Thankfully, the wire had snagged on the kid’s helmet and ripped it, instead of his head, off his neck.
“Where did this happen?” Carson asked, stressed as she thought about all the trails she used to explore on her dirt bike .
It was Hunter who answered. “Somewhere off Senator Highway. I don’t think they ever figured out who put up the wire.”
“That’s right,” Raegan chimed in, her small face pinching with concern. “That was one of your favorite spots to go riding.”
“Oh, this was like six months ago,” Tim reassured them, wiping cake crumbles from his comically stereotypical mustache. “The police searched the whole area and only found that one wire. There haven’t been any reports of another wire.”
“Do you ride quads?” Jax asked Carson.
“I had—have a dirt bike, but I don’t ride as much anymore.” In fact, it had been years since Carson had mounted her bike. It currently sat in the shed, collecting dust and spider webs.
Jax’s face lit up, impressed. “So do I. We should go riding sometime.”
“Not down Senator Highway,” Raegan quickly interjected.
“I haven’t been out in forever. I’ll probably crash,” Carson speculated.
“Great news, Jax is a certified emergency paramedic,” Hunter said slyly. “He can treat your injuries.”
“Seriously, though, we should go ride,” said Jax. “All of my lame Arizona friends don’t own a dirt bike.”
Raegan huffed. “My husband is not allowed to own or ride one of those death machines. The only reason Carson can is because I am not married to her and therefore cannot tell her what to do.”
“Hey,” Hunter contended.
Raegan gave a devilish smile. “You like it when I tell you what to do.”
He wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze. “Yeah I do.”
“Gross,” someone muttered.
Jax ignored the exchange. “Since I don’t work tomorrow,” he said to Carson. “Want to go riding? ”
Carson hesitated. She would probably make a fool of herself. No, she would definitely make a fool of herself . . . again. In front of Jax.
Pinching her cheek between her teeth, her eyes darted around the table. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. Maybe she should go. It would get her out of the house and out of her head.
Then she remembered the personal goal she recently made. It would be a distraction from the other activities she could be doing, like taking a blade to her thigh and pressing—
“Why the hell not?” Carson said.