Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Jaxon
“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” I say as I slide into the booth across from Carter at Wild Bluffs Café. “It even has the same burned coffee smell. Shit, I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Kinda trippy, isn’t it?” Carter asks. “When I first moved back here, it was like I was thrown back to high school every time I’d walk in.”
“Yeah, I have a weird urge to order pancakes with a Mountain Dew to drink,” I say, scanning the menu to decide on something a bit more adult to eat for breakfast. Maybe pancakes with coffee.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” Carter says. “My mom is down to working just a couple hours a day, and I like to be here during her shifts whenever possible.”
Carter’s mom was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago, and as her only family, he moved back a few years ago to help care for her. Now, the Harpers have absorbed them both into their family, and Carter seems much happier than he was when he first started working for me last year.
I put my menu down, deciding on a couple eggs instead of the pancakes. Not having a home gym like my one in Nashville has really put my physical fitness on the backburner.
“Of course. I love the diner, and your mom is great. Plus, it means I can ditch Nash for an hour. It’s getting awkward having him sit in a car in front of my house.”
“You could invite him in, you know.”
I shake my head. “Not there. You both know he’s welcome in my Nashville house at any time, but not here.”
Carter’s mom stops by and takes our orders, chatting with her son about the weather and some TV show they’re watching.
Being the good friend and head of security that he is, Carter waits until after his mom leaves to start interrogating me about his sister-in-law.
“So, what’s going on with you and Iz? Town seems to think you two are dating, but as the person who had to tuck you into bed after she all but called you an inept idiot a couple of weeks ago, it feels like I’m missing something.”
Izzy and I texted about this, making sure we had our story straight, but now that it’s time to tell it, I’m worried it might be too flimsy.
“You know I apologized,” I say.
He raises his eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say.
“I’m just surprised she accepted. But go on.”
I continue, “We decided to let bygones be bygones, and we started hanging out again. It’s been fun.”
None of this is technically a lie. I did apologize to Izzy.
And we are hanging out again. And it’s really fucking fun.
In fact, it was about the most fun I’ve ever had watching Iz as I tried to get her off with a dildo.
Shit, even just lying in bed holding her as she worked through her emotions by watching embarrassing videos of me was one of my top five moments of my last decade, and I went on seven international tours during that time.
I also realized I needed to step up my game. The internet is a terrifying place, but people have lots of ideas about how to help women get off. Izzy had better be prepared for Thursday because I have big plans for our second attempt.
“So, you’re just friends?” Carter asks, the height of his eyebrows a clear giveaway to just how skeptical he is.
What do normal people say when they’re just hanging out with someone, but they want to be dating them a month from now?
Shoot. Maybe I should’ve spent more time searching for the answer to that on the internet instead of ways for Izzy not to get distracted by her to-do list when having sex.
“We’re seeing where things go?”
“Why are you phrasing it as a question?” Carter asks.
“Because I’ve never done this before,” I say, glad I can give a truthful answer.
Carter sets his elbows on the table and leans forward slightly.
“Jax, I say this as your friend but also as her brother-in-law: Izzy isn’t the woman you test out dating with.
If you’re not sure what you want, then just tell her you’re sorry, and let it die there.
Don’t bring her coffee at work. Don’t wait on her porch for twenty minutes for her to get home. Don’t bring her dinner.”
Well, damn, I guess Nash really does keep Carter informed of everything happening in my life.
“Nash made it sound worse than it is,” I say.
Carter shakes his head. “Oh no. That’s not from Nash. I heard that from JT, who is out of town at a golf tournament right now. He’s somehow connected to all the gossips in town, and his phone has been blowing up all week about you being in love with Izzy.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not in lo—” I start to say.
“Please don’t tell me,” Carter practically begs.
“Just don’t break her heart, or Kelsey might make us drop you as a client.
I can just hear her now. ‘I can’t in good conscience murder him while he’s a client, Carter.
It’s not my fault if I’m better than all his other options and will be able to sneak past them and strangle him with my bare hands once he finally hires someone new. ’”
I shudder. “That’s a terrifying picture.”
“Both Kelsey and Bryn adore Izzy, and I wouldn’t want to be on either of their bad sides,” he warns. “So don’t fuck this up.”
“So, I shouldn’t mention the fact that I’m supposed to hang out with Izzy all afternoon?” I ask, only kind of teasing.
“Lord have mercy on your soul,” Carter says as his mom brings out our food.
I thank Alice for the pancakes I didn’t order, and when she leaves, Carter apologizes.
“Honestly, this is what I wanted anyway,” I say, secretly pleased that now I get to eat pancakes and look like a good person. A real win-win.
“Hey, Matt!” Carter says as a tall, vaguely familiar man walks by.
“Carter,” the man says, tipping his head at my friend. “And Jaxon, right?” he asks, extending his hand to shake mine.
“That’s me.”
Matt offers me a smile as he says, “I was a few years behind you in school.”
“Matthew Thatcher?” I ask, realizing I can still see the boy I once knew behind the hard lines of the man.
“That’s me. Hey, now that I’ve got you here, I’ve been meaning to reach out to ask about your farm.”
I internally cringe. No matter what my dad seemed to believe, it was never my farm.
Matt continues, clearly unaware of my discomfort around the topic, “We border you on two sides, so was wondering if you’re planning on renting it out or if you’re going to try to sell it.”
“I’m selling it,” I say, forcing a smile to help cover up the harsh tone of my answer. “End of the month.”
“Ah. Alright, then,” Matt says. “I figured as much.”
I nod. “Yeah. It’ll be easier to have it dealt with. It’s a lot a land, and even having a renter would require quite a bit of work on my part.”
“I understand,” Matt says, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Well, I’ll let you two finish up. Nice seeing you again, Jaxon.”
Matt leaves, and Carter and I finish up our breakfast not long after. I still have two hours until I’m supposed to be at Izzy’s house, so I head back to my dad’s place, giving myself a mental pep talk the entire time about spending the time cleaning out my dad’s room.
Shit.
There’s a car out front when I pull up, parked in the far spot. I can see Nash tailing me in, so I know it’s not him. I stop, waiting for him to catch up.
My security team has been on my ass about making sure I stick to all my safety protocols, but I really thought I was safe in Wild Bluffs. I guess not.
I wait while Nash enters the house, my phone in my hand, ready to call 9-1-1 should anything crazy happen. Instead, he comes out twenty seconds later, a big smile on his face.
“You’re clear,” he says after he opens my door for me.
“But there’s a car here,” I say slowly, my mind trying to catch up.
“Yup. There’s a person here, too. But you’re not in any danger. Or at least not too much. Good luck in there.”
I shoot one more questioning look Nash’s way as I make my way up the steps to the house and push open the door. There, on the couch, scrolling through shows on the TV like she owns the fucking place, is Izzy.
No wonder Nash couldn’t wipe the grin off his stupid face.
“I hope you don’t mind, I grabbed a water,” Izzy says, still scrolling through options on the streaming service she must’ve signed into herself. I sure as hell don’t know my own login information for things like that.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I thought we were meeting at your place.”
“Yeah, but that felt awkward after all the stuff the other day, so I decided to surprise you here,” she says.
“I didn’t think about Nash needing to check the house, though.
Luckily, he decided not to shoot me. It’d really hurt my friendship with the guy if I had to dig a bullet out of my shoulder, and I like him. ”
Ignoring the slight flare of emotion at her confession about Nash, I focus on what’s really important—her being in my house.
“You can’t be here, Iz. Let’s go to your place.”
“Don’t call me Iz, Jaxon Reid,” she says as she leans back and crosses her arms. “I can be here if I want to. I mean, maybe not legally, but I’ve been here about fifty times in the last fifteen years, which is”—she taps her chin as if in thought—“only about fifty more than you were, so if anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s you. ”
“You visited my dad?” I ask, surprised at how hurt I feel.
Izzy was always on my side. My dad and I fought a lot there at the end, and Izzy never agreed with him.
She thought it was ridiculous he wanted me to give up my dream of being a musician to stay in Wild Bluffs and farm.
She knew how much his resentment of my fucking existence hurt me.
“Yeah,” Izzy says, her tone defiant. “He understood how it felt to lose you. No, not to lose you. To have you choose to leave. So, yes. I visited him. And then I kept visiting because he was lonely.” She looks out the window, biting her lower lip as she scratches her nose.