by Torsha Baker
“Well, don’t,” I snap, knowing I’m not being fair. “I don't need your help. And I definitely don’t need to be in your arms.” I swipe a hand through the air. “Ever.” It’s too painful. I want to scream at him, It reminds me of what we had, of what you threw away.
And that’s when the first fat raindrops fall onto our heads.
Jaxon stares at me with a defeated expression, the rain kicking up between us.
“We can’t climb down until the storm passes,” he finally says. “We need to find shelter.”
I rub my arms and nod, not trusting myself to speak again.
He looks around us. “There’s an old hunting shed not too far from here.” He walks west and I follow. The rain increases until it’s a downpour. Lightning strikes nearby, followed by thunder that reverberates to my bones. We’re now jogging, our clothes soaked. All the while, my emotions are just as crazy from the storm in my mind as the one raging around us.
Why did I think I could possibly be professional where Jax is concerned? No amount of acting can erase the pain that he caused me. I thought I was over it, but it’s obvious that I never really got over Jax. Being close to him again—his eyes, his arms, his scent—all of it carries memories of the happiest time of my life, which ended in my greatest suffering. I’m such a fool.
Jax suddenly stops and whirls on me. I halt in front of him. His eyes are a thunder of emotion. “Why did you stand me up?” he asks. “Tell me straight out.”
My face flushes with heat, despite the cool drops of rain falling on it. As if he has any right to question me. After everything he put me through. “Because you cheated on me and left me for another woman,” I yell, finally deciding that this is the moment, the moment that I won’t hold back. I’ll tell Jaxon Wyle everything that’s been drowning my thoughts. “I know it was eight years ago, but I only found out yesterday why you broke up with me through text.” I take a step forward, my anger propelling me. “And that’s another thing. You dumped me through a text—a text, Jax! You know how messed up that is? It was as if what we had meant so little to you that you didn’t even feel I deserved the respect of telling me face-to-face that you didn’t want me anymore.” I wipe both water and hot tears from my face.
He stares at me for a moment, looking confused. “I never cheated on you, Malia.” He shakes his head. “Never.” He takes a step closer, his eye imploring me. “You were everything to me. I’ve never looked at another woman the same since you came into my life. I still don’t. And the reason I broke up with you through text is because I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t go through with it. I knew that one look at you, and I would beg you to never leave me.”
His words don’t make sense. I’m more confused than ever. “What?”
“The week before we were supposed to leave, my ex-girlfriend approached me wanting to talk. I told her we had nothing to discuss, that I was with you and leaving for California in a week. But the morning we were supposed to go, she came to the ranch and . . .” He takes a steadying breath like this next part is hard for him and looks me in the eyes. “Malia, she told me she was five months pregnant with my child.”
Pregnant? An invisible fist wraps around my chest, and a chill runs over my body while the rain continues to soak through my clothes. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling small against something as big as new life.
Jax wipes rainwater from his face and continues. “She wanted money for an abortion, but I could never live with myself if I didn’t take responsibility for the life I’d helped to create. So, I begged her to give birth to the baby so that I could raise her.”
I stare at him, my mind racing. I think about the timing. Jax and I met at the beginning of summer and were supposed to leave in September. I know that he and his ex broke up the same day we met. That means she was definitely pregnant before they broke up. He didn’t break up with me because he stopped loving me or because I wouldn’t sleep with him. He broke up with me because he learned he was going to be a father.
Jax sighs. “I couldn’t put all that on you, not when you had dreams of your own that didn’t include a baby. So, I made the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.” He drops his head and looks up at me again, his eyes red. “And I set you free.”
My mind is reeling with this new information, but I just stare at him for a moment, feeling new anger surface. That’s why he dumped me? Because he thought he knew what was best for me?
“How dare you,” I say and hit him in the chest. “How dare you. I loved you with everything I was, and you destroyed me. Did you think I wasn’t strong enough to handle the truth?”
His eyes widen. “No, Malia. I knew you were, and I knew there was a chance you would give up on your dreams for me. And that wasn’t something I could live with.”
The truth is, I probably would have followed Jax into hell itself as long as we were together.
“If I chose to stay, it wouldn’t have been for you. It would have been for us—for what we had. And that wasn’t your decision to make. It was ours. Yours and mine, to make together.” I shake my head and turn away from him. I think of all the could haves. I think of all the pain I was put through because he thought he knew what was best for me. Thunder rumbles in the sky around us.
“Malia,” Jax says. His voice is like a prayer: pleading, hoping. He gently turns me around. Even the slightest touch of his hands on my shoulders has my body craving for more. It doesn’t seem to understand that we’re mad at him right now. Mad and, if I’m being honest, relieved. He didn’t cheat on me. He didn’t break up with me because he didn’t want me anymore or because he stopped loving me. And even though I’m still angry that he made my decision for me, a part of me can understand his reasoning behind it. Would I have done things differently had our roles been reversed? I honestly don’t know.
“Malia,” he says again, and it’s like a balm on my broken heart. He lifts my chin, and his fingers are warm against my chilled skin. “Please, Malia. Look at me.”
I gaze up at him, into those blue eyes that have always known me so well. I search them as his seem to search mine. What am I looking for? The boy I once knew? The boy who loved me? Instead, I see a man who had to make terribly difficult decisions at the expense of his own heart to do what he felt was right. I feel a new respect for him for taking responsibility for his actions. I reach up and cup his face. “Jax,” I whisper.
He leans forward so that his breath is on mine. “Not a day has gone by that I didn’t think about you.” His voice is deep and full of raw emotion. “I wished that I could hold you again, kiss you again, and tell you that I never stopped loving you. My heart has and always will be yours. I know what we had was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, but I'm challenging lightning to strike again.”
His declaration is so open and vulnerable. He’s offering his heart to me completely, knowing that at any moment I can shatter it as he had mine, knowing that he would let me for just another chance to be with me again. It’s intoxicating and alluring and has my heart racing.
I slowly, tentatively close the distance, letting my lips brush over his, testing, wondering if I have the strength to let myself open up to Jaxon Wyle a second time. His warm lips, slick from the falling rain, are smooth and inviting. He’s still, as if afraid that the slightest movement will have me bolting like a scared animal. And perhaps he’s right to think that, but as soon as our lips touch, I’m undone. My anger, hurt, and pain melts away.
His mouth slowly explores mine. It’s remembrance and familiarity, and yet a touch of newness resides there as well. Heat surges in me, igniting a want for more, and I take the kiss deeper. I feel lightheaded and giddy, eager to discover this new Jaxon. I tangle my fingers into his hair. Jaxon’s hands wrap around my waist, pressing me into him, and I arch my body into his, wanting to be closer, to feel how perfectly my body fits with his. It’s as if he was made for me and I for him. He kisses me with the passion of eight years of pent-up emotions, and I match that intensity with my own lon
ging. Somewhere in the distance thunder echoes, like the heavens are cheering for our reunion.
We finally end the kiss, breathing heavily, resting forehead to forehead and staring into each other’s eyes. Old and new meld into this one moment standing in the rain. Jaxon pulls me into an embrace. He breathes a sigh of relief and nuzzles his face into my hair like he used to. We cling to each other, perhaps afraid that if we let go, we might lose each other all over again. We know that life isn’t as simple as it was when we were teens. But at least for this small moment, we can just enjoy each other.
We stay like that for a long while, healing a little more with each passing moment.
“We should get out of the storm,” Jax finally says and backs away. He leads me to the old hunting cabin, his warm hand wrapped around mine.
It’s a small one-room space with a stove, couch, bed, and a small table with two chairs. Jaxon finds some towels in a cupboard, and we work to dry off before sitting on the couch. When we sit, Jax pulls me into his side, like he can’t handle any space separating us. I oblige willingly and lace my fingers with his. I stare at our entwined fingers wondering if we can weave our lives as easily.
Jax reaches up to touch my wet hair with his free hand. “I always preferred your hair like this.”
He’s referring to the rain bringing my hair back to its natural curly state. Most mornings, I straighten it.
“I love it wild and curly,” he says. “The way you used to wear it. Besides, the curls will hide the cut part better.” He chuckles and I playfully slap his chest.
“My publicist told me to wear it straight when I auditioned for my previous role. She said it made my features stand out more, which she claimed would be good for the villain. She was right, I guess.” I shrug. “I landed it.”
“Veronica Chase,” Jax says.
I chuckle. “So, you’ve watched it?”
“I might have seen a couple episodes.”
“Somehow I didn’t pin you as the type to watch that kind of show. It’s basically a soap opera.”
He laughs. “It is not. It’s a drama.”
“A serial melodrama, set primarily around women’s lives.”
“You say tom-a-to, I say to-ma-to.”
After a moment, I turn to look at him. I’m still getting used to how his face has matured over the years. There’s a calmness to him that wasn’t there before, and his eyes are so much wiser than they were in his youth. But I suppose being a father will do that to a person. It’s still strange to think of Jax as a father. “Tell me about your child,” I say.
He smiles, and it reaches his eyes with love and pride. “She’s amazing. She’s always asking questions, smart as a whip. Smarter than me for sure. She loves animals and has been riding horses since she was able to walk. She’s full of wit and has a great sense of humor.”
I smile with him. “I suppose she would have to with a dad like you.”
“She’s the best thing that’s happened to us all, my brothers and me. She’s the glue that holds us together.”
“I bet your mom and dad love being grandparents.”
His smile fades, and a haunted look replaces his happy one. My heart sinks as I realize something must have happened to them. I sit up, turning to face him, and my hand goes to my mouth. “No,” I whisper.
He nods. “They died a couple months after my daughter was born. A drunk driver.”
I shake my head. My nose burns and eyes water. Jaxon’s parents were amazing, and I know how much Jax loved and respected them. “Jax, I'm so sorry. I—I didn’t know.”
He gives me a sad smile. “I know. It’s okay. I’m just glad they got to meet their granddaughter before it happened.”
“If I’d known, despite everything that happened between us, I would’ve come to the funeral to pay my respects. They were always so kind to me.”
“That’s because they knew you were the best thing for me.”
“They were really smart too,” I add, earning a chuckle from him.
Jax had to go through so much that year. Raising a baby on his own, losing his parents, and letting go of the woman he loved. My heart aches for the boy who had to turn into a man so quickly. I place my hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jax. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it.”
He leans into my hand and shuts his eyes for a moment. He opens them again. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick. I gather him in my arms, and he holds me tight.
I’m driving back to my parents’ house to change before heading to the hospital to visit with Ala. Jax and I stayed in the cabin until the storm died, reminiscing about the summer we spent together. It was so easy being with Jax again. Easier than being mad at him. But what does a kiss and reconciling with Jax mean exactly? My cheeks burn at thought of our kiss in the rain. We obviously still have chemistry between us, and truth be told, I want to see where that takes us. Perhaps the reason we both never fully got over each other is because we were meant to be. And yet, I can’t deny how different our lives are. I have a fast-paced career in Hollywood, and he has a ranch to run here. How would that work? And what about his daughter? A child adds a whole new level of complexity to the possibility of dating Jax again, and that scares me. I have plenty more lessons with Jax over the next few weeks. I need to stop worrying so much and just see where our time together takes us.
Chapter Thirteen
JAXON
I’m carrying the climbing equipment back into the barn when I spot Landon and Preston oiling one of the tractors.
Preston groans and wipes at his brow. “Why do I have to get the hard-to-reach zerk fittings?” Preston is my youngest brother. He just graduated and is working on the ranch full time now.
“Sorry kid, but you’re still the smallest,” Landon says.
Not by much, I think, looking at my baby brother. Preston wears jeans, a scuffed up pair of brown boots, and an old, passed down army green T-shirt that used to hang off him but is now filled out. Preston is just about as tall as Landon. A few more months of doing ranch work full time, and he’ll be as muscular as the rest of us Wyle brothers. He’s currently holding a pistol grip grease gun, crouching down, and looking for the next zerk cap.
“To your left a little more,” I say, knowing exactly where they all are.
He turns his attention to me and stands up, taking in my wet clothing. He smiles. “Got caught in the storm?”
Thoughts of Malia and me kissing in the rain come back to my mind. “That we did.” I lay out the damp ropes and harnesses over the bales of hay to dry. “But we made the best of it.” We really made the best of it.
Landon pumps three times on his pistol gun, sending oil into the zerk fitting, and then gives me a pondering gaze. “Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?”
I shrug, but can't seem to keep the grin from my face. “‘Dunno what you mean.” I walk to the tack room and retrieve a dry towel. The truth is, I haven’t been able to keep Malia or what happened between us on that mountain top from my mind for a single second since she drove off. I still can’t quite believe she forgave me. It all seems surreal . . . and right. Like everything in the world is right again. I feel like I can take on anything now.
“The client must have been hot,” Preston says. “Come on, admit it. She was hot, wasn’t she?”
That she was. I remember how the rain clumped her lashes together, making her hazel eyes stand out even more, how her wet clothes clung to her curves, and that kiss. That kiss was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Before that, I’d wondered if maybe I was building up our chemistry in my mind because that summer was my last bit of carefree youth. But that kiss proved otherwise. The sparks are not only still there, but they’re even stronger than what we had as kids—more like lightning than sparks. I don’t tell my brothers any of that though. I just raise my brows in answer and work to dry all of the metal pieces on the harnesses.
Landon wipes a zerk clean of oil with a smirk on his face. “If I didn’t know bette
r, I’d think you were interested in this hot client.” He shakes his head. “Does this mean you’re over Malia standing you up?”
“Malia?” Preston asks, eyes wide. “Malia was here and you didn’t tell me?” He turns to Landon with an accusatory gaze. “And you knew?” He shakes his head. “You guys don’t tell me anything.”
Preston loved Malia like a big sister. I don’t think he ever fully forgave me for letting her go. Landon shrugs. “There’s not much to tell. Jax asked Malia to coffee, but she stood him up.”
“Great,” Preston says sending a glare my way. “So Jax screwed it up again, and we don’t get to see her?”
I finish drying a buckle, remembering helping Malia into it. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I say, ignoring his ire.
Preston scrunches his brows in confusion. “But what about the hot client?”
“Funny thing,” I say. “Malia was the hot client.”
Preston pauses, then breaks into laughter. “Oh, to be a fly on the rock wall for that encounter.” He examines my face more closely. “She didn’t punch you? Not once?” He sounds disappointed.
* * *
“She threw plenty of verbal jabs,” I say, remembering the fire in her . . . and the hurt. I’d put that there. It stabs like a cactus at my heart.
Preston smiles at that. He remembers how strong-willed she was. She never fell for my charms, but she saw me—the real me—and loved me anyway.
Landon just stands there with a knowing smirk on his face. “It must have gone well enough for you to be looking so satisfied. Just don’t blow it this time.”
By his lack of surprise, a thought occurs to me. “Wait a minute, did you know she was my client?”
His smile deepens. “I had a suspicion. When her agent booked, she told me her client needed to learn skills for a role, and she paid plenty to get you alone . . . and for our discretion. Said her client didn’t want any exposure. How many actresses do we know who’re currently in town? Wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.”
