CHAPTER 9 #2
"Sorry," I said, turning away from the window. "Just… distracted."
Harper followed my gaze briefly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "He's quite the watchdog, isn't he?"
I felt heat creep into my cheeks. "Connor insisted."
"Mmm-hmm," Harper hummed, clearly not buying it but graciously letting the subject drop. "Now, let's find you something that'll make you feel amazing."
With Harper's guidance, I began picking out a few pieces that caught my eye, dresses in soft blues and earthy greens, flowing blouses in cream and rose, and comfortable jeans in various washes made their way into my arms. The soft fabrics and rich colors brought a genuine smile to my face.
As we moved from one section to the next, Harper chatted animatedly, sharing stories and offering suggestions.
It was nice to be distracted, to focus on something other than the chaos in my mind.
But every so often, my eyes drifted back to the window.
Jaxon had shifted positions, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him.
His head turned slowly, methodically scanning left to right and back again.
A couple passed by with a dog, and I watched his entire body tense until he recognized them as harmless and relaxed, if only slightly.
Whatever had him on edge was getting worse, not better.
"You know," Harper said, holding up a beautiful teal sundress against me to check the fit, "if you're worried about him, you could always cut this short and go check on him."
"I'm not—" I started, then stopped. Was I worried about him? Or was his tension just feeding my own anxiety? "He's fine. He's always like this."
Harper raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "Well, this color is gorgeous on you. It brings out your eyes. You should definitely try it on."
As I headed toward the fitting rooms with an armful of clothes, I couldn't resist one more glance out the window.
Jaxon was on his phone now, but his free hand rubbed the back of his neck in…
agitation? His shoulders were hunched forward, and even through the glass, I could see the tension in every line of his body.
Something's wrong.
The thought settled in my gut like a stone, heavy and cold. But what could I do about it? March outside and demand he tell me why he was acting like we were in enemy territory? That would go over so well.
I tried on the clothes Harper had picked, and honestly, she had excellent taste.
The teal dress fit perfectly, and the jeans were comfortable without being too casual.
A flowing white blouse with delicate embroidery along the neckline was exactly my style.
But even as I admired my reflection in the fitting room mirror, my mind kept drifting back to Jaxon outside.
When I emerged with my selections, Harper was already at the register, her bright smile firmly in place.
But as I glanced out the window again, I noticed Jaxon had stood up.
He was pacing now, just a few steps back and forth in front of the bench.
His hand went to his hip, then dropped. Went to his back pocket, then dropped.
Restless, agitated energy radiated from him in waves.
As I approached the boutique's antique checkout counter, a beautifully weathered piece with ornate brass fixtures and a polished wood surface, our relaxed laughter and easy conversation began to fade as the shopkeeper's curiosity visibly piqued.
"So, if you don't mind me asking…" Harper began, giving me a friendly yet inquisitive look as she folded my purchases with practiced ease, "What brings you into town today? Just a fun little shopping spree to treat yourself?"
I hesitated, unsure how much to share.
"Not exactly…" I said slowly, choosing my words. "Connor wanted me to pick up a few essentials while he's in town. He's having lunch with Morgan while I run errands."
Harper's expression shifted, barely perceptible, at the mention of Morgan.
The vibrant spark in her green eyes dimmed slightly, her bright smile faltering for just a moment.
But she quickly composed herself. Her perfectly manicured fingers, painted a cheerful coral that matched her dress, neatly folding my clothes into a yellow boutique bag printed with elegant script.
"Oh, I see," she said evenly. "I'm sure they'll have a great time catching up. Morgan's… something, isn't she?"
The slight change in Harper's usually bubbly demeanor didn't go unnoticed. Morgan seemed to provoke strange reactions, even from those who barely knew her, like me. Still, I let it slide, not wanting to press. Harper seemed to sense it and smoothly shifted the conversation.
"In any case, I hope you found some cute new pieces you love and will get tons of use out of," she said, her megawatt smile returning as she nestled the last item into the bag. "And don't be a stranger, okay? Us small-town girls have to stick together."
She winked playfully, and I smiled, genuinely touched by her warmth.
"I won't, I promise. It was so great seeing you again, Harper. Thanks for all your help today... I really appreciate it."
With a final wave, I stepped back out onto the sun-warmed sidewalk. The bell above the door chimed softly behind me, fading as I walked toward Jaxon. The boutique bags swung lightly from my arm, their bright colors catching the sunlight.
Jaxon was back on the bench, but he looked anything but relaxed.
One leg bounced rapidly, his eyes scanning the street with restless focus.
The late-afternoon sun struck his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the tension etched there.
Though his gaze was fixed on his phone, I could tell his attention was everywhere.
A breeze lifted strands of my hair, bringing the scent of my coconut shampoo into the air.
Jaxon's head snapped up, nostrils flaring slightly.
His eyes locked onto mine—sharp, assessing.
For a brief second, he just stared, taking in the shopping bags and the residual calm in my smile.
Then, his expression closed off, the familiar mask slipping back into place.
"You all set then?" he asked, standing in one fluid motion and sliding his phone into his pocket. The breeze tugged at his gray shirt, and I caught a faint whiff of cedar and soap, his cologne, now mingled with a trace of sweat.
I nodded and fell into step beside him. "Yep. I think I got everything I needed, thanks to Harper," I said, glancing over at him. "She was super helpful. And really sweet."
Jaxon grunted in response, his eyes already scanning the street, watching people, shop entrances, moving cars—everything.
The tension in his posture was unmistakable.
He moved like someone constantly calculating, always aware of the nearest threat.
Whether it was pure instinct or long-ingrained habit, it radiated from him.
As we walked through a cluster of tourists snapping photos, his hand hovered at the small of my back.
He didn't touch me, but the nearness was enough that I felt the heat of his palm through my shirt.
It was a protective gesture, oddly tender, especially given how distant he'd been earlier. I wasn't sure what to make of it.
Before I could ask, he spoke in a low voice that barely rose above the hum of the street.
"We should get your phone and meet Connor back at the truck. He'll be waiting."
I quickened my pace to match his, the shopping bags brushing against my leg. A tight knot of unease coiled in my chest. Jaxon's heightened alertness was contagious, feeding my own anxiety. Had something happened while I was inside?
But Jaxon wasn't the type to offer answers freely, so I followed in silence, letting my questions hang between us. As we moved along the busy sidewalk, I found my senses sharpening, attuned to every laugh, every car horn, every shifting shadow. I was reading the world like Jaxon was—on edge, alert.
The phone store was efficient. Connor must've called ahead; everything was ready when we arrived.
A simple smartphone with a sturdy purple case.
Jaxon stood near the door the entire time, never crossing fully into the store, his gaze fixed on the street through the front window.
The employee helping me kept throwing him nervous glances, clearly picking up on the same uneasy energy I felt humming off of him.
When we finally returned to the truck, Jaxon's tension hadn't eased. If anything, it had deepened. His eyes flicked left and right, sweeping storefronts, alleys, rooftops. Every movement was deliberate, every pause precise, like he expected danger around every corner.
The growing tension pulled at something buried deep in me, an echo of the fear I'd lived through with Daniel. And though I tried to shake it off, I could feel the edges of paranoia creeping in again, cold and tight around my chest.
"Why don't you wait in the truck while I call Connor?" Jaxon's suggestion was terse, his tone leaving no room for argument. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck taut with stress, that little vein at his temple visible beneath the brim of his cap. "I want to see how much longer he'll be."
I ground my teeth, frustration flaring at the suggestion. I was tired of being treated like I was fragile, a delicate flower that needed constant protection. I knew Jaxon was only trying to keep me safe, but his overprotectiveness grated on my nerves. It wasn't his place.
With a sharp nod, I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door with more force than necessary. The sound reverberated through the truck's cab, a sharp punctuation mark for the emotions swirling inside me.