Chapter 12
Rowyn
I’m nervous. So damn nervous it’s ridiculous.
But I shouldn’t be. This is Jaxon. My childhood friend.
The guy who I recently spilled my secrets to, who’s seen me at my worst, even carried me to the nurse’s office.
The guy I trust more than anyone, and believe me, in my line of work, trust doesn’t come easily.
And yet… this is also Jaxon—my childhood friend turned hockey legend, the man with the easy grin and devastating eyes, and the one person I can’t afford to lose.
I slide into his car and smooth a hand down my new dress, the silky fabric whispering against my thighs.
Yes, I bought a new dress. And yes, I might have splurged on sexy lingerie, too.
Totally unnecessary for a fake relationship, but try telling that to my traitorous heartbeat.
Will he think I’m ridiculous? That I’m turning this pretend date into something more?
Then he crosses in front of the car and all rational thought fizzles. I’m used to hoodie-and-sweats Jaxon—the comfortable version I’ve always known. But this Jaxon, in dark dress pants that fit just right and a soft sweater that hints at the strength beneath, is a whole different problem.
I blow my bangs off my forehead, pretending to be cool while my insides are basically doing the macarena. He slides in beside me, bringing with him the scent of fresh soap, crisp evening air, and something warm and familiar that is just… him. Jaxon.
He starts the car, but before backing out, he glances my way. His arm stretches behind my seat, casual but intimate, his gaze sweeping over me like a slow caress. “You look beautiful,” he says, voice low and sincere.
“So do you.”
Wait, what? My brain short-circuits. “I mean, you look—”
“Handsome,” he finishes for me, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“Yes. That.” I exhale a laugh, tension easing, though the air between us still hums with awareness.
Then his expression softens. “Row,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. His thumb lingers, featherlight but enough to make every nerve in my body spark to life. “What we do tonight, it’s entirely up to you. If you’ve changed your mind…”
“I haven’t,” I cut in quickly, then force a breath. “But… I am nervous.”
“I get that,” he says, his tone low, steady, grounding. “We’ll go as slow, or as fast, as you want.”
Slow.
Fast.
God, I want it all.
“Okay,” I croak out.
“I want you to know that I’m clean, Rowyn. I haven’t been with anyone in a while and we get tested often. I also picked up condoms. I’m not sure what you want, but I wanted to be prepared on my end.” He lets out a humorless snort. “You know I’m not looking for kids.”
“Me either,” I blurt out. “I have an IUD, so we don’t have to use a condom if you don’t want, but if you don’t believe me, I understand.” He’s been tricked before, and I have a career to think about. I’m certainly not looking for any kind of long-term relationship or children.
Ah, but deep down that’s what you really want, Rowyn.
Before I can drown in that thought, words tumble out of me. “I saw him today.”
Jaxon’s brows draw together. “Saw who?” he asks, like he’s genuinely forgotten the reason behind this whole fake relationship.
“Hot coffee shop guy,” I say, trying to sound breezy, like I’m not melting under his gaze.
He lets out a short laugh, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right. Of course. How did that go?”
“He must’ve seen the photos of us,” I say, twisting my hands in my lap. “He asked about you. About us. He actually seemed… curious. So I guess the plan’s working.”
Jaxon’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel, jaw flexing. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Guess it is.” He looks straight ahead when he asks, “Did he explain why he stood you up?”
It’s clear he’s annoyed that someone would treat me like that, and I truly appreciate the protectiveness he always exhibits around me, and those he cares about.
“There was a family emergency, actually. We didn’t exchange numbers, so he couldn’t call.”
For a long moment, he goes perfectly still. Quiet. Too quiet. I can almost hear the gears turning behind those stormy eyes. “What?” I finally ask, voice low, wary.
“If that’s the case… if you have his attention, maybe the rest of this is all for nothing,” he says, waving a finger back and forth between the two of us.
“First,” I started, wanting him to see how much I actually do need him.
“You came to my rescue in front of my work colleagues when I really needed it. Lord knows I don’t want to be set up with Billy’s divorced friend.
Second…” I hesitate, fidgeting with the hem of my dress.
“…Matt might be interested, but again, it’s the whole inexperience thing I’m dealing with. So this isn’t all for nothing.”
Okay, Rowyn, be honest, are you really talking about “inexperience,” or is it that Lumber-Jax effect that’s making your heart thump like a drum?
The thought hits me, and before I can stop myself I blurt out, “Are you… still game? Or do you want to end this right now?”
“No,” he says instantly, his tone firm, unwavering. That fast, confident response melts the knot in my stomach. His eyes lock on mine, and I suck in a sharp breath when I see it—hunger. Pure, undeniable hunger. The kind that made it clear he wants this… wants me… as much as I want him.
Alrighty then…
“Okay, good.” Relief washes over me in a warm, dizzying wave. I buckle my seatbelt and he does the same, the subtle brush of his hand on my shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me.
He backs out of my driveway, the engine rumbling beneath us like a heartbeat. I try to steady my racing thoughts. “How was practice today?” I ask, genuinely curious, but also because talking might keep me from overthinking everything else.
“Brutal,” he admits, a tight nod accompanying the word. “But good. We have a real shot at the cup this year.”
“That’s amazing, Jax. I can’t wait to watch the games.” I grin, trying to sound casual. “Billy’s been all over it. He even pinned the schedule up at work. He’s a huge fan.”
Jaxon’s face goes tight for a second, like I’d said something wrong, and my stomach twists. Then he speaks, the tension inside me easing a bit. “Penn was saying that Jaylynn wants to get to know you better. They invited us for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh.” Surprise flickers through me, quickly replaced by delight. “I’d love to.”
“We don’t have to pretend around them,” he adds, voice softening. “They know the truth. So it should be… a relaxing night.”
“Sounds great,” I say, smiling, feeling a genuine warmth bloom in my chest. I like the idea of not pretending, of just Jaxon and I hanging out with another couple. It feels…right somehow. “I’ll text her to see what I can bring.”
And just like that, the conversation shifts to… normalcy. But that low, humming tension between us hasn’t gone anywhere. Not even close.
He nods. “How’s the city council investigation going?
” he asks, like he’s genuinely interested in my work, and even though I’m sure it will sound all boring to him, I explain where I am in the investigation.
By the time I’m done, we’re pulling into his driveway and I’m once again reminded why I’m here.
My heart beats a little faster and I work to slow it as I open my door.
He holds his hand out and I take it, grabbing my purse as I step out. I’m not sure why I can’t remember how to walk as he puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me to his door.
“Hungry?” he asks.
Oh, he has no idea.
“Yes, but you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”
“No trouble. I like being in the kitchen, remember?”
“Good hands, right,” I mumble under my breath as I watch him use those ‘good hands’ to unlock his door.
He pushes it open and I step in. Even though his house is huge, too big for one person, I instantly feel that warmth again when I walk in.
On the side table, I set my purse down next to his keys and follow him into the kitchen.
“I’m making your favorite,” he says.
I put one hand on my hips as he gestures to the seat at the island. I drop down. “How do you know my favorite?”
“It’s scallop linguine.”
My eyes go wide and my heart wobbles a bit that he remembered. “That is my favorite.”
“I know.”
We never had scallops growing up. They were too expensive for a single mom to buy, but that one time in high school when Jaxon and I were working on a group project, and had to finish it at the inn, I stayed for supper. His mom made scallop linguine, and I must have talked about it for a week.
“You know, I’ve had it many times since I moved to Boston, but nothing compares to your mother’s. You have big shoes to fill, buddy.”
He just laughs at me as he pulls cheese and the scallops from the fridge. “White wine?”
“I’d love some.”
He looks back in the fridge. “I forgot to grab it from the garage.” He makes a move toward a door off the kitchen and I hold my hand up.
“It’s the least I can do.”
He hesitates for a long second, his brow furrowed. “I…it’s kind of a mess in the garage.”
“I’ve seen messes before.” Then I hesitate, getting the sense it’s not the mess he doesn’t want me to see. “If you’d rather…”
He scratches the side of his head and my gaze goes to his bicep as it flexes. “No, uh, there’s a fridge just to the left of the door. There are different kinds of white wine chilling. Choose whatever you like best.”
I cock my head. “I thought you weren’t much of a wine drinker.”
He grabs a pot and starts filling it with water. “I keep bottles for company.”
I nod and step up to the door, biting my tongue before I ask if this company’s name is Poppy. Good Lord, what is the matter with me? I am not his real girlfriend. I am his friend.
I open the door and run my hand along the wall until I find the light switch.
The room comes to life as I flick it on and the heavy garage door clicks shut behind me as I take the two stairs to the painted cement floor.
My gaze goes to the fridge and as I move toward it, I note the faint smell of wood.
I turn, and when I see that his garage is actually a workshop, I stop moving.
What the heck? I thought I knew everything about Jaxon.
Abandoning the fridge for a moment, I walk over to the tools, but it’s not the newly planed wood or the bags of sawdust that hold my attention.
No, it’s the shelves filled with homemade ornaments that give me pause.
I glance over my shoulder, like a kid about to get caught snooping at Christmas time, and when I see that the door is tightly shut, I reach out and pick up one of the ornate ornaments.
My mind goes back to the Snowberry Inn, to the rooms that are always decorated for Christmas.
Then I think about the town, the ornaments that hang from the light posts.
But it’s the ornaments shaped like hockey sticks and pucks that pull my attention.
I’ve seen these on the community tree back home in Snowberry Falls.
Jaxon makes them?
I carefully examine the ornament and my heart jumps in my throat when I see a name burned into the wood. I have no idea who Coleson is, or what he means to Jaxon. I only know that there is more to this man than I ever knew and I can’t help but think there’s a great story here.