by Torsha Baker
“Yes, darlin’. I am.”
I close the distance and press my lips to his. Jax’s hand moves to my hair as he deepens the kiss. My head swims, and my heart is full.
“You know,” I say, breathless. “If everyday of my life could be like this, I’d die a happy woman.”
“It could be, you know. I mean, it’s probably not realistic to make the climb every single day to set up a picnic on a mountain. That was no easy task.”
I bat my eyelashes. “Aren’t I worth it?”
“How about every week?”
I tilt my head, as if I’m considering it. “Throw in some chocolate cake, and you’ve got a deal.”
The expression on his face is void of humor as he studies my face. His crystal blue eyes seem to be contemplating something. “I mean it, you know. I can see us returning here every week, at least until we get too old to make the climb, in which case I’ll still make you a picnic with chocolate cake . . . just closer to home. Our home.” He lays his forehead on mine. “I know it’s only been a few days since we reconciled, but I’m at a point in my life where I know exactly what I want. And that’s to grow old with you, Malia.”
He’s exposing his heart and laying out his intentions without hesitation. With Jax there are no games, no pretenses. He’s real and mine for the taking. A life with Jaxon is what I’ve wanted since I was eighteen. I still don’t have answers for how this can all work. But staring into his intense blue eyes that seem so sure of our future and what it can be, sets all my worries at ease. And for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like something is missing in my life. We may not know all the logistics yet, but if we’re both dedicated to one another, perhaps that’s enough and everything else will fall into place.
I place my hand over his. “I want to grow old with you too, cowboy.”
He lifts his head from mine and smiles like he just won an Emmy. He kisses me again, long and slow. I savor the moment, my insides doing flips while his lips move expertly against mine. He picks me up, moving me so that I’m facing him. His fingers graze the exposed skin above my pants and my insides burn for more. My hand moves up his shirt and over his rock hard abs, a moan escapes him in response, and I contemplate ripping his clothes off right here and now.
He suddenly pulls away so that we’re not touching, and I’m left breathless. I feel cold in the absence of his arms. He lets out a breath, drops his head, and after a moment looks up at me. “I want you to meet my daughter.”
His words are like ice-cold water over my head. I raise my brows at him. “That’s what you were thinking about while kissing me?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up, causing his dimple to peek out. “I was thinking that if we keep kissing like that, I might not be able to stop where it was heading.”
I give him a wicked grin and move closer. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“Bad is definitely not the word I would use.” His eyes roam my body, and he drags a hand through his hair. “That would be a very, very good thing, and believe me, the eighteen-year-old in me is shouting at me to shut up and take you right here on this blanket.” He sighs. “But I promised myself long ago that I would be sure to do things in the right order. For me, that means marriage first.”
He’s afraid of getting me pregnant? This is definitely a new side of Jaxon I’ve never seen. “So that’s what made you think of your daughter. Well that’s one form of birth control.” A part of me is disappointed of course, but a bigger part of me is impressed with his self-control and integrity. He learned at a young age that certain decisions have consequences. And strangely, I feel even more attracted to him. I take his hand in mine. “I both hate and love that, Jax.”
“I’m hating it myself right now.”
“I’ll have to warn you that you’ll probably need to remind me of your decision from time to time.” I squeeze his hand. “Also, I’d love to meet your daughter.” And it’s true. I’m excited to get to know the little girl Jaxon is raising. A part of me is nervous too, of course. I mean, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she thinks I’m taking her dad away from her? What if I don’t know how to talk to her?
“Come to dinner tonight,” Jax says, breaking my thought. “Landon and his wife Kitty, Dillon, and Preston will all be there. The boys are excited to see you again. In fact, they are at the point of threatening my well-being if I don’t bring you home soon.”
“On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Landon cooks,” I say, remembering the one time Jax tried to cook for me. “I don’t want to be responsible for you burning down the house the first time you bring me home.”
He laughs with me. “How was I supposed to know you don’t throw water on a grease fire? I’d never had that happen before.”
“Your mom was so mad,” I say, remembering her scolding him. She made him re-paint her kitchen, which was black with smoke stains after Jaxon tried and failed to make fried chicken.
“I was only eighteen. I’ve gotten much better since then.”
“Oh yeah, what are your specialties?”
He looks contemplative. “I make a mean sandwich.” He gestures at our picnic.
“The sandwich was good,” I agree. “What can you do with a stove or an oven?”
“Grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, pancakes . . .” he trails off. “Landon will cook.”
Chapter Fifteen
JAXON
I made it back to the ranch by four and quickly told the others Malia’s coming for dinner. Then I took a shower, helped Audrey with her homework, and helped Landon and Kitty make dinner—as much as they would let me, which meant setting the table. Now I’m sitting with Landon in the living room, waiting for Malia to arrive. Kitty is in the backyard with Audrey gathering flowers for the table. I’m not sure where Dillon and Preston are, but I’m sure they’ll surface as soon as Malia gets here.
They were two parts excited that she’s coming and one part annoyed with me that I haven’t brought her home sooner. Dillon keeps bringing up the legal letter and reminding me that I don’t have a ton of time to waste. A not-so-subtle way of urging me to get more serious with Malia. While I do want to marry Malia one day, I don’t like the added pressure of my brother’s coaxing. I want things to happen in their own natural time, not rushed because of Brittany’s blackmail.
“You’re moving around like a hen at feeding time,” Landon says from behind his laptop. “It’s giving me a headache.”
Landon is sitting on one of the couches, his laptop in front of him, probably searching for prices on a new saddle. He promised Kitty last week that he would find her one.
I pull my hands back from the stack of magazines on the table that I was repositioning for the second time and resist the urge to re-stack the coasters again.
I sigh. “I want everything to be perfect for her.” Because I want her to look at this place and see herself in it, with us.
“She’s not going to just turn and walk away if she spots a magazine out of place. You know she doesn’t care about that sort of thing.”
I run a hand over my face. “Yeah, I know.” The house is looking better than ever these days, all thanks to Kitty. She remodeled the place when she and Landon were dating. The wood-look tile floors bring a nice warmth to the blues and greens and the feminine touches she added really make the space feel like home again—like it had when Mom was still around.
The doorbell rings, and I glance at my watch. It's five minutes until six.
Dillon strides into the room. “I’ll get it.” He smiles at me. “At least she didn’t stand you up this time.”
If I’m being honest, I’ve had this irrational fear that she won’t show up. I sometimes worry that the responsibility of a child might be too much for Malia. Like it was for Brittany. But I remind myself that Malia is nothing like her.
Just before Dillon reaches the foyer, Preston comes tearing down the stairs and bolts past Dillon to the front door. “I got it! I got it
!” Preston calls out.
He swings the door open. “Lia!” He grabs her into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground before setting her back down again. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a thin white sweater. Her hair falls almost to her waist in a beautiful mess of waves and curls. Her eyes are lit up with excitement. She’s magnificent.
“Preston?” Malia says, stepping back. A huge smile lights up her face. He puts his hand out, and they both do a series of hand motions, slaps, and forearm taps until they end with a both hands in a shaka motion. “You remembered!”
“‘Course I did,” he says.
Malia looks him over. “You’re huge. Last time I saw you, you were only to Jax’s shoulder.” She pats his face affectionately. “And so handsome. I bet you’re breaking all the girls’ hearts.”
“I’d never do that,” he says, grinning at her. “You taught me to respect them.”
“That’s right. You’re just as sweet as you were when you were young. Glad to see some things never change.”
Then her eyes fall on Dillon, standing behind Preston. She squeals, runs to him, and throws her arms around my twin brother. “Dillon!” Malia is one of the only people who has never mistaken Dillon for me or vice versa. We asked her once how she can tell us apart. She’d said, “Are you kidding, you two are nothing alike. Dillon’s a gentleman.” Dillon has liked her ever since.
“Malia Kalama, finally, in the flesh,” Dillon says, backing out of her embrace. “I was starting to think we’d only ever see you on our televisions.”
“So you’ve watched my show?”
He laughs. “Are you kidding, like Jax would ever miss an episo—”
“Okay,” I say. “Let the woman through the foyer already. Stop crowding her.”
But Malia turns to smile at me. “You don’t miss a single episode, do you?”
I shrug and she laughs.
Landon steps forward. “Welcome back to Wyle Away Ranch, Lia.”
She squeals again and runs to throw her arms around Landon. He picks her up in an equally affectionate bear hug before setting her back down. “We sure missed you ‘round here.”
My heart is full watching Malia interact with my brothers again. When they met her all those years ago, they became fast friends. My brothers treated her like one of the family, just as they’re doing now. I hope Malia can see just how easily she fits in here with us all.
Malia grabs Landon’s hand with the wedding band on it. “I heard you got hitched.”
Landon glares at me. “You wouldn’t have heard if Jax was any good at keeping secrets.”
Landon and Kitty technically eloped in order to keep their marriage a secret from her family. I did explain that part to Malia.
Malia places a hand on Jax’s arm. “Don’t worry. I’m good at keeping secrets. It’s part of the job requirement in order to work in Hollywood.”
Malia looks past us all. “Where’s Ethan?”
Everyone goes still.
“Not here,” Dillon says stiffly.
“He hasn’t been back home for a while,” Landon says. “Left to veterinary school and never came back.”
Malia’s face looks concerned. “Is he okay?”
I need to lighten things up. I give Malia a wink. “He’s fine, just busy pampering poodles in the city.”
“The girls are in the back,” Landon says.
As we all head out to the back of the house, my heart speeds up. The two most important people in my life are going to meet. What if it doesn’t go well? I shake the thought from my mind. It will work out. It has to.
Chapter Sixteen
MALIA
I hold my breath as Jax takes my hand in his and leads me out the back. His brothers follow. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, and yet it’s there, twisting my stomach and making me feel as if I’m going to the biggest audition of my life. And in a way, I am. If Jax’s daughter doesn’t like me, what will that mean for us?
A table is set with seven place settings on the porch. A beautiful woman with auburn hair and green eyes is filling glasses with lemon water. She looks like she belongs here at Wyle Away with her cowboy boots and button-down chambray top. Landon closes the distance to the woman and puts his arm around her.
“Malia, this is Kitty,” he says.
The woman smiles at me. “Hello.”
“Aloha,” I say and close the distance to give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek—the typical Hawaiian greeting. Kitty smells of barbecue and wildflowers.
Her smile widens. “So I finally get to meet the woman who has Jaxon, of all people, swooning.”
“Whoa,” Jax holds his hands up. “Hold on there. I do not swoon.”
Kitty rolls her eyes. “What else would you call acting giddy all the time? Giggling like a schoolgirl at your text messages? Changing your clothes several times each morning?”
Jax coughs, his cheeks tinged pink. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I laugh, already liking Kitty. I reach out and squeeze Jax’s hand. “Aww, you like me.” I flutter my lashes at him. “You really like me.”
His face softens and he smiles. “That I do.” He lifts my hand up and kisses the back of it.
“See,” Kitty says with a triumphant smile. “Swooning.”
“Well, I’ll take the swoon over the smolder any day,” I say.
“The famous Jaxon smolder failed?” Kitty asks.
I laugh. “You mean that expression where he looks like he’s constipated?”
Jax cringes. Kitty laughs.
“Hey, it worked on you once upon a time,” Jax counters to Kitty.
“Oh, no. We’ve already established that it was merely a training exercise,” she says. “It didn’t count.”
I raise my brows at them.
Landon shakes his head dismissively. “A lifetime ago Jax tried his player ways on Kitty. It was well before you, of course.”
“And what of the women after me. Is there anything I have to worry about?” I ask in jest.
“What women?” Dillon asks. I look at Jax with a questioning gaze. Surely he has dated since me. There’s no way that he’s gone eight years without dating other women. This is Jaxon Wyle we’re talking about here.
Kitty smiles at me. “From what I hear, there wasn’t much in the way of women after you. At least none that made it to a second date.”
I look to Jax who just shrugs like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal. Because all this time I’d imagined Jaxon with a new woman every month. My heart heals even more, realizing that he was just as hurt as I was . . . so much so that he hasn’t opened his heart since. If we weren’t surrounded by others, I’d kiss him right now. He squeezes my hand as if to say: It’s okay. We’re together now. I give him a smile and hold on tight to the feeling that’s swelling in my heart.
I gaze around the backyard, searching for Jax’s daughter, but I don’t spot her.
“She’s in the garden gathering more flowers,” Kitty says, knowingly.
Jax and I go down the steps to the small flower garden off to the side of the house. So many memories of my summer here flood my mind. Every time we went on a date, Jax would pick me a bundle of flowers until his mother finally told him to stop or she’d have no flowers left. I remember helping Jaxon’s mom with the dishes, playing card games with his family in the living room, riding horses through the many trails on their land, and Jax’s dad teaching me how to rope a cow. A pang of sadness pulls at my heart at the loss of Jax’s parents.
As we round the corner of the house, the garden appears. My stomach is in knots, and my heart beats like hoofbeats on the desert floor. I can hear a little girl’s singing before I see her. Crouching between some purple and yellow flowers is the most adorable blue-eyed girl I’ve ever seen. Her long wavy brown hair is pulled back from her face with a blue headband that matches the flowers in her dress.
“She’s beautiful,” I breathe. And she is. She has Jax’s eyes, an adorable round face with rosy
cheeks, and perfect little heart shaped lips.
“Meet my daughter,” Jax says. “Audrey.”
I turn to stare at Jaxon. “You named her Audrey?”
“Someone once told me Audrey Hepburn was the most beautiful and classy actress of all time and that her humanitarian work and love for others makes her someone to look up to. It seemed like a great namesake.”
I look back at Audrey picking flowers, feeling my nose burn with the threat of tears. He named her Audrey, after my idol. I was worried that Jax saw his ex every time he looked at his daughter, but he gave her a name that would make him think of me instead—a name that I once told him I planned to name my own daughter one day. My voice is thick with emotion when I speak. “She wears the name perfectly.”
Audrey looks up at us and smiles, showing a dimple on the side of her cheek just like her father’s. Then her gaze falls on me. Her smile fades and her brows crease. For a moment, I’m worried she’s not happy with whatever she sees in me.
“Do I know you?” she asks, her voice small and lilting yet sure.
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
She stands and comes over to us, still staring at me. “I know you,” she says with conviction. “What’s your name?”
I crouch down so that we’re at eye level. “I’m Malia.”
Then her eyes widen, and she gasps. “You’re Malia Kalama!”
I glance up at Jax. “You really do watch that show a lot, don’t you?”
He cringes a little and shrugs.
Audrey smiles. “I knew I saw you before.” She looks up at Jax. “Daddy, you know Malia Kalama?”
“She’s the special guest I was telling you about who’s joining us for dinner. She’s an old family friend.”
Audrey puts her hand on her hip. “Do we have any other old family friends you haven’t told me about? Like Beyonce?”
