Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
MADISON
F or the next thirty minutes, we all chatted while Jax and Austin did some more fence repair. Then I got a text from Zoey.
Zoey:
Hey, how is everything in Montana?
Me:
Really good, actually. I had a pretty amazing chat with Dad. I think we’re on the way to something good. Can’t wait to see you Thursday.
Zoey:
Awesome! About fucking time you listened to me. I’m always right.
Me:
You really want to go down that road?
Zoey:
Uh, nope. Have fun, and I’ll see you soon.
I looked across the pasture, and it seemed Jax was talking to a cow. Austin approached him and then walked toward me.
“I think something’s wrong with Jax.”
“What?” I looked over and saw he was bent down, his hands resting on his knees, and he was definitely speaking to the cow. Cow whisperer or weird farmer?
We approached Jax slowly.
“Hey, Bud, what’s up?” Austin slapped him on the shoulder.
Jax tore his eyes away from the cow. “I think he wants to get out of here.”
“The cow?” Austin scratched his head, and I wondered if this was yet another prank Jax was trying to play on me. Not falling for it.
“He told me he wants to get the hell off this ranch.” Jax shook his head and whispered, “I think we should load him in the truck and set him free.”
I had not seen this coming; Jax was insane.
“Guys, we need to set him free! Come on, Austin, let’s help him.” Jax’s arms were flying in the air as he spoke.
I stepped closer, took Jax’s chin in my hand, and zeroed in on his eyes.
“What’s he on?”
“Nothing. Jax doesn’t do anything.” Austin looked closer at Jax.
“His eyes are all messed up. He’s on something.”
Zoey, of course, would be the reason I knew a little about the topic.
Austin took Jax by the shoulders and shook him hard, causing his head to bob around. The sudden thought of a Jax bobblehead doll struck my funny bone.
“Jax, what the hell is wrong with you, man?”
“Nothing. I just think it’s time we helped the cattle. They have dreams and ideas, and I think they want to go to Canada.”
Frustration consumed Austin. “Jax, did you take something?”
“The only thing I’ve taken is the freedom of this cow!” He suddenly looked upset.
“Wait, when he was putting on my bandage, he said he ate some candy.” Did candy have an expiration date? This could explain a lot of my monthly PMS issues since I basically freebase Skittles.
“Son of a bitch, candy from my truck?” Austin’s eyes were like frisbees as I nodded.
“Damn it, my friend Paul stuck some edibles in my glove box and forgot to take them out. I think there were three or four. He’s screwed.”
Huh, and he said there wasn’t enough for me.
We stepped back and observed Jax while he promised the cow he would get him to the border by sunset.
“I’ve got to get the wedding centerpieces in town, but I probably need to babysit Jax, right?”
I nodded.
“Shit, Daisy’s going to kill me.” He popped a brow. “Unless you’d babysit him for a bit?”
“Me? No way. I think we should just take him to Daisy’s house. She can take care of him.” I didn’t want to monitor an edible-eating Jax.
“No way, she would freak.” Austin shook his head. “He’ll probably just crash, and you can watch TV.”
“So, you’re just picking up stuff and coming right back?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I was supposed to meet a gal pal of mine for a quick drink after. I won’t be that late. Please?” He shoved his hand in his pocket and whipped out a twenty. “I’ll pay ya.”
Sigh, I was poor and needed cash. Babysitting the stoned cowboy, who wanted to drive all the cows to Canada by sunset, sounded just peachy…for the right price. I held out my hand and stroked my empty palm. Austin let out an exaggerated sigh and slapped two twenties on it.
On the way to Jax’s, I sat in the backseat as he babbled on about flu shots, chicken pot pies, and the fact that the freedom of cows should be in the U. S. Constitution.
“So, you’re okay with this?” Austin peeked at me in the rearview mirror. “I haven’t totally ruined your mood by making you babysit?” He flashed me a hopeful smile.
It really depended. Was wanting to shake the marbles out of these men’s heads a mood? Because I was feeling it. “No, it’s fine.”
No sooner than we had arrived at Jax’s, he fell out of the truck and laughed his ass off. Once on his feet, we walked to the front door as Austin drove off. Lucky bastard.
“We should take our shoes off, right? We were walking in the dirt.”I bent down, pulled my shoes off, and turned back around to see Jax with his pants in his hands.
He held them out to me. “What should I do with these?
“Uh, you should put them back on.” He was standing in blue boxers, just staring at me.
“I don’t wanna. Why don’t you take your pants off?” he asked in the same tone I would ask someone to pass the salt.
“Well, no, thank you to that. Why don’t we just go inside instead, okay?”
I pushed open the unlocked door as Jax tossed his pants in the air and walked past me. This was going to be interesting.
I looked around the house, and it was just the kind of home I’d expected Jax to have. Masculine and woodsy, if that was a thing.
My eyes scanned the room for signs of a girlfriend. I mean, I didn’t expect to find a hot pink thong dangling from the ceiling fan or anything, but I’d be able to tell, right?
Jax led the way to the kitchen.
“I like your house.”
He snatched a can of Pringles from the counter and shoved a few in his mouth, completely ignoring my compliment. “I need a snack.”
Shocking.
After he grabbed a box of Fruit Loops, six saltine crackers, and eleven grapes—indeed, he carefully counted each item—I followed him into the living room and plopped on the couch.
He put his snacks on the coffee table, and I was a bit surprised when he walked to the coat closet, rummaged through for a moment, and returned to the couch carrying a clarinet. I didn’t think I’d seen a clarinet in person since I was in Mr. Keiser’s band class in the seventh grade at La Vista Junior High, but there it was.
He stood in front of me wearing a blank look. “I want to play for you.”
With a perfunctory bow, he put the clarinet to his lips and began playing the theme song to “Star Wars.” He was pretty good if I had to rank an adult playing a clarinet in his boxer briefs while stoned out of his mind. Overall, I enjoyed the performance.It was too bad I didn’t have a little survey card or something.
He completed the song, took a deep bow, which of course, made me stand and applaud. What else would I do, right?
After tucking the clarinet under the couch, he sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“That was something.”
He nodded with his eyes closed. “I know.”
There was silence, which I always felt the need to fill. “So, tell me about Jax.”
“Oh man, he’s trouble.”
Okay, we were talking in the third person now.
“No, I don’t believe that.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yup, he’s no good and good for nothing.” With his head resting against the couch, he turned to gauge my reaction.
“That’s not very nice. He seems like a pretty good guy, I guess. Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. He’s always screwing up stuff, but he’s trying to do better. You know, not fuck up as much.”
This was different. Imagine if every woman could ask questions of a guy and get honest answers. It could solve most of the problems in the world, which seemed to be caused by men much of the time. Edibles could be part of the solution.
“So, does Jax have a girlfriend?”
He perked up. “Do you know I can do the worm?”
Before I knew it, he hopped up, pushed the coffee table aside, and was doing the worm across the room. Again, it wasn’t what I expected, but definitely entertaining. I watched his strong arms as he moved across the room before he stood and took yet another bow. I clapped again before he plopped back down beside me.
“That felt great.”
“It, um, well, it looked great. Yes, you are quite the wormer. Now we were talking about Jax, and you were telling me about his girlfriend, I think.” Lies don’t count when one participant in a conversation will never remember it the next day.
“Oh, Jax is bad with women.”
“He doesn’t do well with women?”
“Oh, he does very well with the ladies. Boy has got the moves.”
“Moves?”
He laughed and punched my arm. “You know what I’m talking about. He can rev their engines, for sure. It’s like a superpower.”
“Oh.” It made sense. “So, he’s just bad for women overall.”
He was suddenly serious. “Not bad for all women. I mean, he’s fine with grandmas, aunts, or librarians. Well, he doesn’t read very often, but if he did, he would be fine for the librarians, I’m sure. I think he’s just super-duper bad for the single ladies.”
He suddenly burst into laughter. After a moment, he was holding his stomach, and then I started in too.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“He’s bad for the single ladies!”
He stood, skipped to the front door like a schoolgirl, and grabbed a pair of golf shoes that were on the floor. He pulled them on and did a tap dance, belting out his rendition of “Single Lady” by Beyonce.
He was completely out of his mind, so, of course, I grabbed my phone and recorded the entire glorious performance. One thing I’ve learned is that video evidence is something that should always be cherished and preserved.
He danced over to the couch, grabbed my hands, and pulled me to my feet as he continued to sing and dance. After a moment of hesitation, I thought, why not ? He was very happy when I pulled up some Morgan Wallen on my phone. So happyhe started to whip me around the room.
I knew he was lit, but I hadn’t had this much fun with a guy since, well, I couldn’t remember when. Steve was more of a paper-reading, coffee-drinking kind of guy; he never danced or anything. Jax suddenly went to pick me up and lost his balance, causing us both to hit the floor.
I heard a thud, and when I glanced over, I saw Jax’s face had hit the coffee table on his way down. I moved quickly and rolled him over. At first, I thought he might be dead; he was so still. Then he suddenly roared with laughter again.
“Are you okay?” His eye looked red. I leaned down to get a better look. “Jax, are you okay?”
He continued to laugh. “Did you see that? I fell on the damn table!”
“Are. You. Okay.”
“I fell on the damn table!”
I was looking at the redness of his eye when I shifted my focus back to his face. He was grinning and suddenly pulled me down for an incredible kiss.
I didn’t care how blitzed he was. I’d never in my life been kissed like that. I felt it all the way through my body down to my toes. I pulled away, looking down at him. There was silence. What was he thinking?
“Do you want some?”
“What?” I started to stand up.
“I could really go for some pepperoni right now.”
Apparently, the kiss was long gone for him, but my mind and lady parts were playing it on a loop. He closed his eyes for a long second before looking back at me, although I was pretty certain he couldn’t really see much.
“Hey, why don’t we get you to bed, and I’ll get some ice.”
His eyes closed, and a big goofy grin stretched across his face. He let out a belly laugh. “Now you’re talking.”
I took his hands in mine, and after initially resisting, he finally cooperated, and we got him in a standing position. I let go, and he nearly fell again.
“Whoa, I’m feeling a little weird.”
“Really? I would’ve never guessed.” I put my arm around his waist, propping him up against me andsteering him towards what I assumed was his bedroom. “Come on.”
“Look at you being all bossy.” He whispered and giggled at the same time. “I like it.”
His bedroom was just as ‘tough guy’ as the living room, with a large bed, nightstand, and a bookcase containing framed photos and books he apparently doesn’t read. I pulled back the comforter and got him in bed.
“Stay here. I’ll get some ice.”
“Okey-dokey.”
He suddenly pulled out his boxers from under the comforter and whipped them across the room. Alrighty then.
I went to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a dish towel. I found pain reliever tablets in a cabinet, along with a bottle of water. Based on the contents of his freezer, it looked like he was a fairly healthy eater. An admirable quality, but I was beyond disappointed not to see any ice cream.
I grabbed my phone and texted the one person who would know details about edibles.
Me:
Zoey, if someone ate three edibles, would they remember anything in the morning?
My phone pinged a moment later.
Zoey:
Hell no! Who is the dumbass?
Me:
Nobody. I was just watching a CSI episode and wondered if that was true.
Zoey:
Stop watching TV! You’re in Montana. Go ride a buffalo or pick some wheat or something. See you Thursday!
I took the ice into the bedroom. I’m no doctor, but it appeared to me he had a swollen shiner brewing. I placed the ice on his eye, causing him tojump.
“Shit, that’s cold.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you. Let’s try to keep this on your eye, okay? Does it hurt?”
“What?” His eyes were closed.
“You fell on the coffee table, and now your eye is swelling. I’m putting some pain relievers and water on your nightstand. So, I’ll ask again. Does it hurt?”
He sat up quickly. “I hit my eye?”
We were face to face, and I froze. He grabbed and kissed me again before I pulled back and stood up quickly.
“Jax, we can’t do this.” I looked down to see him lying with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.
I could not make out with Jax. He was not in his right mind.
Wait, I could make out with hot Jax and see what that would be like, and he would have no memory of it in the morning? So, I would be the only person in the universe to know that I made out with Jax? No, no. It wouldn’t be right. Only a perv would take advantage of someone who’s not in full control of their faculties. And never let it be said that Madison Clark is a perv.
I sat next to him on the bed, gave him a light kiss on his forehead, and moved to tuck him in. His eyes opened halfway, and a sexy ass grin spread across his face. “I like you.”
“Well, I like you too, Jax.” Sounding like an old matronly kindergarten teacher, I patted his hand under the duvet.
Big mistake. My mouth formed a surprised ‘O’ when he yanked me down on top of him and kissed me silly. His muscular arms held me tight and tighter still as I tried to wiggle my way out of his embrace. And then—Oh. My. Gosh. There it was, Jax Junior, tenting the covers.
I finally broke his embrace and took several steps away from the bed, taking one last look as he rolled over, hugged the pillow, and fell asleep as if nothing had happened. Oh, thank God, he wouldn’t remember this in the morning.
Shaking and feeling all wobbly from the voltage of his kiss, I took a few deep breaths and paced the floor a minute to pull myself together. How could this man, with one kiss, have my body and soul feeling electricity that I never knew existed?
I imagined, for a second, what it would be like to be wrapped up with him all night, causing my stomach to plummet with recognition. Chemistry. Holy macaroni! That is what people talked about. Chemistry, which I thought I had with Steve, but now knew there was no effing way that was true. Even with Jax as high as a kite, in a matter of seconds, he had my body feeling things it had never known before.
When my heart rate normalized, I walked over to the bookshelf, where photos of Jax as a teen with Austin and Jax fishing with a group of guys were on display. The one that really grabbed my attention was a framed picture of Jax, Austin, Daisy, and my dad. They were on horses with beautiful mountains as a backdrop, looking like a happy Montana family.
Examining their smiles, I felt a sadness for all the time lost. Jax and Austin looked like they were in high school, so I would’ve been in high school at that time too. My dad was on some horse-riding extravaganza with his new family while Zoey and I were thousands of miles away.
Nope, I wasn’t going to go there. Letting go of the past is what I had to do, and damn it, I was going to pull it off.
Next, I did some serious detective work, AKA snooping, while Jax was passed out. On the fireplace mantel, behind a picture of Jax playing hockey was a metal box. Inside, I found his adoption certificate and a picture of a pretty woman in her twenties with a little Jax sitting on her lap, wearing a huge smile on his face.
Jax had her eyes, and I wondered how a kid would get through such a huge loss. When I even thought about losing my mom, I got misty.
I imagined being taken from his mom, going into foster care, and then her death would cause all sorts of detachment issues for him when it came to relationships. In fact, I was certain of it. I was a psychology major for two semesters, so there you go.
I carefully put everything back in the box exactly as it was. I then watched “You” on Netflix, which was about a serial killer. While this wasn’t my typical jam, I’d seen the first few episodes and couldn’t stop watching, just like Joe couldn’t stop taking people out.
I realized, as I watched Joe obsess over yet another woman, that the whole setup of the living room was wrong. The television was at an angle, so why wasn’t the couch at an angle? That way, Jax could watch T.V. and enjoy a fire at the same time.
While I hadn’t known Jax or his decorating preferences for long, I spent the next thirty minutes rearranging the living room, and I was pretty sure he would be thrilled. I had a way with putting rooms together; it was kind of a gift.
My mom insisted I help her decorate and even assist with renovation selections in the hotels. There was almost nothing better than shopping on someone else’s dime.
Just when I thought I was done giving Jax’s living room a breath of fresh air, I realized that if I switched the mirror by the front door with the painting over the mantel, it would be like the salt on the rim of a margarita glass, perfection.
When I was moving furniture, I found a twenty-dollar bill under the couch and put it on Jax’s nightstand before staring at his shirtless chest for three minutes. I decided three minutes was acceptable, while five would make me more like a sick stalker.
Austin pulled up a bit later and strolled in. “So, he’s passed out?”
“Yep. He’s been asleep for a while, so hopefully, he’ll wake up as good as new. Or as good as Jax gets, I guess.”
“I’ll stay here tonight in case he wakes and tries to load up any cattle. I can drive you back to Daisy’s real quick.”
“That’s okay; it’s just over the hill. I’ll be fine to walk.”
I walked back to my dad’s with my mind running over the events of the evening, and I knew it would be a long while before I would be calm enough to sleep. I sat on the big porch in an old wooden rocking chair, overlooking the land and barn I’d become familiar with in just one day. I never imagined how much could happen in a twenty-four-hour span.