JAXON (The Caine Brothers Book 4)

by Margaret Madigan

  She smiled and slipped her hand into his, surprising him how intimate the gesture felt. “Let’s go.”

  After they left the food bank, they drove across town to Houston Fresh. It radiated charm and cheer. Outside, a hand-lettered blackboard sign announced the daily specials, and bright distressed yellow tables and chairs offered outdoor seating set amongst a jungle of potted flowers. Inside, white walls and a high white ceiling, vintage mirrors, and lots of natural light brightened the modest space, causing it to seem bigger. Wood floors, vintage hanging lights, and a variety of mismatched tables and chairs added to the quirky charm of the place. The rich, savory smells coming from the kitchen made Jaxon’s stomach rumble.

  “Whatever’s cooking back there smells incredible,” Jaxon said.

  Lily grabbed his hand—again—and dragged him through the crowded dining room. He wondered if she held his hand purposely, or if it was a subconscious gesture. Either way, he liked it.

  “Let’s go say hi to Summer before we find a seat,” Lily said. “She’ll never forgive me if I don’t.”

  He followed along behind, the warmth of her hand in his anchoring them to each other.

  In the kitchen—a room more efficient but no less quirky than the dining room—Summer stood behind a big, old industrial cooktop, working like a maestro conducting an orchestra. She barked orders to the sous chef and other kitchen staff who scurried around to do her bidding.

  “Hey, Summer,” Lily said.

  Jaxon wouldn’t have waded into the middle of that storm as calmly as Lily had. Summer glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw Lily and Jaxon she did a double-take with a giant grin on her face.

  “You take my advice, Lil?” she asked, turning to plate a huge, mouthwatering rustic grilled sandwich.

  “None of your business,” Lily said, dropping Jaxon’s hand too late for Summer to miss it. Something about Lily being flustered buoyed his spirit.

  “If you say so,” Summer said, humor still dancing in her eyes. “Are you here for lunch?”

  “Yes,” Lily said.

  “Okay, go find a seat and I’ll make something for you. How much time do you have?”

  Lily pulled out her phone and checked the time. “Not a ton. I have to be at the community garden for a presentation in a little over an hour.”

  “No problem,” Summer said. “Go sit.”

  Jaxon followed Lily out to the dining room, where she selected a table near a window that looked out onto an alley patio full of tables and potted flowers.

  She fidgeted in her seat, rearranged the silverware and napkins, straightened the salt and pepper shakers, fluffed the flowers in the little vase.

  “You’re nervous,” Jaxon said. He tried not to sound sarcastic in his understatement, but it was hard.

  “You might find this surprising, but I’m not fond of public speaking.”

  “You mean your presentation this afternoon? What’s it about again?”

  “Organic pest control,” she said.

  “And you know what you’re talking about, right?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sure you’re an expert,” he said. “So, just talk to them like you’d talk to one person. Pretend someone asked you about the subject, and just chat about it. The trick to public anything is to own it. You know your stuff so just go in there, turn on the charm, make it about helping them. That’s what you do. What you’re good at.”

  Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and it gave him a warm feeling of satisfaction to encourage her.

  Summer showed up at their table with two big plates, placing one in front of each of them.

  “Simple and fast,” she said. “And one of my specialties. Bon appetit.”

  Each plate contained a grilled cheese sandwich with thick slices of tomato and onion, and crispy lettuce on hearty homemade bread, and a pile of homemade fries. He squished the sandwich down a bit, then took a big bite. He groaned as he ate it.

  “Good, isn’t it?” Lily asked.

  “Oh my God. I’ve never eaten anything this good.”

  Summer nodded her satisfaction, then said, “I have to get back to work, but you kids have fun, now.”

  “Thanks, Summer,” Lily said. Summer winked at her, then turned and headed back to the kitchen.

  “How does she grill it and keep the lettuce crisp?” Jaxon asked.

  “Magic.”

  “I’m in love. Seriously. I don’t want this sandwich to ever end.”

  Lily giggled, a sweet funny sound he wanted to hear more of. “If you keep helping out, I can guarantee continued payment in food,” she said.

  “Count me in,” he said. “I’ll do anything you ask as long as Summer keeps feeding me.”

  A little bit of sexy seeped into her smile before she turned her attention back to her plate. “I’ll remember that,” she said.

  He wondered what she was thinking. Did it involve more time in bed? He liked the idea, but he wanted to get through at least one night celibate on this retreat. It didn’t sound like much of an accomplishment, but at the rate Lily captivated him, it might turn out to be.

  “So how did you and Summer meet?” Jaxon asked.

  “We’ve been friends since high school. We had big plans to join the Peace Corps and go off to save the world.” Lily smiled. The memory obviously made her happy.

  “But you didn’t, I take it? Join Peace Corps, not save the world.”

  “We didn’t. We did some traveling together after high school—took that year off—then I went to college and she went to culinary school.”

  “Now you just save your own corner of the world?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “We do our best. If you’re interested, tomorrow is meal delivery day. Summer donates meals to people who are shut in and can’t get out for food. I volunteer a couple of days a week to deliver.”

  “How can she afford to do that? The restaurant business isn’t that profitable, is it?”

  Lily said, “Houston Fresh is doing really well. She takes tax deductions for the food as charitable donation, but even if she couldn’t do that she’d probably still give the meals away. She and her mom were homeless for a couple of years when she was young and depended on people to help them out. It’s important to her to return the favor however she can.”

  “Makes sense.” Jaxon tried to remember any time as a kid that his dad had helped anyone other than himself. He couldn’t think of anything. Filthy rich, his father had instilled a different set of values in his sons—work hard, fight for what you want, never give up—all admirable qualities, but Jaxon had no idea the rest of the world didn’t live like them.

  He’d gone on to live in the insulated world of celebrity and not given much thought to what happened outside of it.

  Remorse hit him hard. How could he have been so oblivious? He and Cory had wanted to make a difference in the music world, but what about the real world? Suddenly his priorities seemed out of whack.

  “I’ll be happy to help with deliveries,” he said.

  After lunch they piled into Lily’s truck and she pulled them out into traffic. Jaxon enjoyed the companionable silence and his full belly as they drove, his eyelids getting heavier the longer they traveled. He’d almost drifted off to sleep when they pulled into a parking space near a large lot surrounded on three sides by older apartment buildings.

  “We’re here,” Lily said.

  A wrought iron fence ran the distance of the fourth side, hung with a sign that said West Side Community Garden. Inside, raised beds overflowed with vegetation and the place swarmed with all kinds of people working their plots. It was the picture of bucolic urban agriculture.

  “You organized this?” he asked as he yawned and climbed out of the truck.

  “No. I’m on the board of Houston’s urban garden league, so I help out with gardens all over the city, but I didn’t organize this one specifically. There’s a team that manages each garden.”

  A Hispanic man in dirty work clothes
and gloves approached with a big smile and pulled Lily into a hug.

  “Lily. I’m so glad you’re here, mi amiga. And you brought help. Good. Everything is growing so fast nobody can keep up with it.”

  “Carlos, this is my friend Jaxon. He’s staying at the estate for a while, so of course I dragged him along to put him to work. Give him some gloves and point him where you need him. He probably won’t do too much damage.”

  She winked at him, and he figured he’d do anything she asked if she continued to pay him that kind of attention.

  When she turned away he said, “Wait, you’re leaving me? I want to see your presentation.”

  “I’m nervous enough as it is. I don’t want to feel like you’re watching and judging me.” It gave him a warm little boost that his presence would do that. Only a person who meant something would make someone nervous.

  “I’d never judge you.”

  “It would probably bore you anyway,” she said.

  She glanced down at the pavement and shifted from one foot to the other, obviously jittery. He didn’t want to add to her anxiety, as much as he wanted to see her teach her class.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m happy to help Carlos however I can. Go have fun.”

  Her relieved smile was infectious and he found himself returning it. She bounced up and kissed his cheek, then hurried off to mingle with the other gardeners.

  Carlos led Jaxon to a row of wooden bins at the edge of the garden, filled with what looked like dirt and garbage.

  “This is our compost area,” he said. He handed Jaxon a pair gloves, then gestured to a pitchfork leaning against the end of the row. “I’d appreciate it if you’d turn it.”

  “Turn it?”

  “Use the pitchfork and stir it up. Shift the stuff from the bottom to the top. Churn it around.”

  “I can do that.”

  Jaxon spent the next couple of hours turning piles of compost that smelled like shit, then filling wheelbarrows with it and distributing it wherever Carlos directed him. By the time he finished, his shoulders and back ached and he smelled as bad as the piles of mulch.

  But he felt like he’d accomplished something concrete. He’d met a lot of nice people, learned some stuff about growing a garden in the middle of a city, and worked at something that didn’t depend on his fame. He got absolutely nothing out of it other than satisfaction. It felt pretty damn good.

  He couldn’t have been happier that not one person recognized him. Nobody swamped him asking for autographs, or tagged along behind him like a spontaneous entourage. He couldn’t believe how freeing it was to be invisible.

  “Ready to go?” Lily met him at the front of the garden where he sat on a bench waiting for her.

  “You’re done already?” he asked. “How did it go?”

  She beamed at him. “It went great. I did like you said and just chatted with them and it worked perfectly.”

  “Good.”

  “Wow. You stink,” she said, waving her hand in front of her nose.

  He grinned. “This was your idea.”

  They headed for the car, Lily keeping her distance. “You can’t get in my car smelling like that.”

  “It’s just an old truck. Why does it matter?”

  “Because that smell will linger way past the time you’re gone.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, strip down?”

  She raised her brows and bit her bottom lip. He couldn’t tell if that meant he’d shocked her, or if she liked the idea. It sounded good to him, until he reminded himself sworn off women.

  “Or you could just ride in the back.”

  “That’s not safe, is it? I think I’d rather sit naked in the cab.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have to be naked. Just shirt and shorts.”

  He stripped off his shirt. “Works for me.”

  “Whoa,” she said, holding out a hand to stop him. “Just sit in the back.”

  “Nope,” he said, undoing the button and zipper on his shorts. “It’s a long drive back to the estate. I’m not sitting in the back the whole way. It’ll be lonely and unsafe.”

  She made a pained sighing sound, then said, “Fine. Put your stinky shoes and clothes in the tool box in the back. Keep your skivvies on.”

  “What if I’m not wearing any?”

  “I…” The look on her face suggested first surprise and confusion, then evolved into a sexy consideration of the fact he might be commando under his shorts. Unfortunately, that made his cock twitch. He ignored it.

  “I’m kidding. I’m wearing underwear.”

  She harrumphed at him then headed for the driver’s side as he stripped out of his shoes and shorts, dumping everything into the big silver tool box thing in the back of her truck.

  He climbed into the cab next to her, wearing only his socks and boxers. She glanced at him, her eyes roaming his body, before swallowing hard and turning away. He chuckled, but her eyes on him and his obvious effect on her caused unwelcome backlash as his cock inflated.

  She started the truck and pulled into traffic. She sat rigid, staring a determined hole into the windshield, refusing to look at him. They sat in tense silence halfway back to the estate. During that time, he tried not to imagine what she was thinking. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You’re ignoring me,” he said. “It’s kind of awkward.”

  “I’m not ignoring you. I’m concentrating on driving.”

  He snorted. “Right. It’s an intense job.”

  “You’re mostly naked. I’m respecting your privacy.”

  “Couldn’t keep your eyes off my nakedness last night.”

  “Oh my God,” she mumbled.

  “You say that a lot.”

  “I’m at a loss for other words. I thought you’d sworn off women?”

  “I have.”

  “Except for last night.”

  “It was an interruption. I’m back to it now.”

  “But you’re flirting with me.”

  “You’re different.” The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Before he knew what he meant. How was she different? He’d ended up at a place where all women seemed interchangeable, so he’d sworn off them. No sex for a while. No going through women like they were disposable. But Lily wasn’t the kind of woman he normally got exposed to, setting her apart.

  She finally took her eyes off the road and glanced at him, confusion knitting her brows. “How am I different?”

  “Well…” Anything he said at that point could be taken the wrong way. If he told her she was different simply because they’d met outside of his celebrity life, that would sound dismissive. If he said she was different because he admired her commitment and passion, she’d just say if he’d taken the time to get to know any of the women he’d met on the road, he might learn something different and interesting about them, too. Clearly, he was the issue. He felt like an asshole. “You make me think—about the things you’re committed to, but also about myself. How can I be a better person?”

  It sounded like a cheesy, opportunistic pickup line, but her expression softened. “Good,” she said as they pulled into the driveway.

  He climbed out of the truck and collected his shoes and clothes, wondering what she meant by that sly smile. “So what’s on the agenda for the evening?”

  “If you’re still game after everything else we did today, it’s dumpster night.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Her expression brightened even an August day in Texas. “Nope. You have to experience it to understand. But you might want to just save those clothes. Dumpster night can get dirty.”

  He waggled his brows. “I’m game for dirty.”

  She snorted as she headed for the door. “I’m sure you are.”

  In the foyer they stood for an awkward, silent moment, not sure what to say or how to go to their separate wings of the house. Jaxon still only wore his boxers and carried the rest of his clothes in a wad under hi
s arm. He shifted from one foot to the other, not ready for their day together to be over.

  “Okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “So, meet back here at midnight. You might want to nap because we’ll be up late.”

  “Midnight?”

  At midnight, Jaxon left his room and headed back to the foyer. He’d showered, dug around in the fridge for something to eat—Lily hadn’t cooked dinner so he figured they were on their own—and taken a short nap. He hadn’t fallen asleep easily. Instead, he’d laid there with tangled thoughts about food and hungry people, Lily’s fiery hair and passion, and music and his absent muse, all filling his head in that drowsy place between awake and asleep.

  Despite Lily suggesting he wear the same smelly clothes, they were too ripe, so Jaxon had thrown on jeans and a t-shirt.

  Lily stood in the foyer waiting for him as he descended the stairs. She wore dark jeans and a tight black t-shirt that emphasized her breasts and slender waist, and did nothing to discourage his libido. She’d pulled her hair back into a messy bun. She looked so good his first instinct was to drag her upstairs and sex her up until neither of them could stand upright.

  But he crushed that impulse. Celibate.

  “Ready?” she asked, handing him a cup of coffee she’d been holding

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  As they climbed in the truck, Jaxon noticed the back full of coolers and crates held down by bungee cords.

  “What’s with all this?” he asked, gesturing to the stuff.

  “You’ll see.”

  Her smile teased at something, but he had the feeling he might not like it. They drove with the air conditioner chugging to keep up with the heat outside, and the radio turned up. Jaxon sipped his coffee and watched the dark scenery drift by, but then the song on the radio changed and suddenly he was thrown back into his world. His band and his voice blasted from the speakers.

  They looked at each other, frozen in that weird moment, but then Jaxon broke out and sang along Karaoke style. He belted the lyrics and drummed on the dashboard. He didn’t care how good or bad it sounded, he didn’t care about production values or audience satisfaction or singing the right notes or anything he usually worried about when on stage. This wasn’t stage. This was why he’d got into music in the first place, because it fed his soul. It made him happy, and by the way Lily laughed and sang along, it made her happy, too.