by Tessa Layne
Behind her a throat cleared, and the sexy, deep voice she hoped never to hear again, spoke with a hint of a smile in his tone. “Do you think I could squeeze in here?”
Holy. Hell.
There was no way he hadn’t heard her. And who knew how long he’d been standing there, eavesdropping? If only the floor would open up under the pew and swallow her whole. But there was no chance of that, nor was there any hope of running and hiding. For starters, she’d have to climb over an entire row of grieving townspeople and march out of the church in front of God and everyone. How Jarrod had managed to squeeze himself up to the fifth row was beyond her. It wasn’t actually, she’d seen him in action at plenty of professional events in D.C. He’d obviously used his stinking charm and million-watt smile. The guy should be a freaking politician.
And before she could open her mouth to respond, or shake her head no, Lydia fucking threw her under the bus. “Of course you can,” she said, beaming up at Jarrod. As if that wasn’t insult enough, Lydia followed up by grabbing her arm and pulling her over as she scooted obscenely close to her husband, Colton. Given the hungry look Colton aimed at Lyd, Lexi was sure he had no complaints whatsoever about the new seating arrangement.
She sure did, though.
Jarrod settled in next to her, thigh pressing against hers. She could feel the heat of him right through her silk skirt. His touch brought back a flood of memories she’d tried and failed to suppress over the last six months. God only knew how many batteries she’d gone through with her vibrator. She really ought to look into one of those ones with a USB port. And now, his arm pressed awkwardly against hers. “Here,” she said, holding out the bulletin. “I’ll share with my sister.”
“Thank you,” he answered, all gentleman, as he took the folded paper, brushing her fingers in the process.
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the jolt of electricity zipping up her arm. Would she always react like this from now on? Now that she knew what his hands, his mouth, could do to her? How was she going to manage sitting next to him through a whole service? She’d just have to keep her eyes on her bulletin, or on Pastor Ericksen. At the pastor’s direction, they all rose and began to sing Amazing Grace. Lexi sang tentatively, not wanting to be heard. And then she stopped altogether as the sound of Jarrod’s rich baritone cascaded over her like melted caramel. Holy smokes, the man could sing. She’d never sing another word if she could listen to him for the rest of her life. But when his voice caught and faltered at the top of the second verse, she risked a glance.
He looked… awful. Like he’d aged ten years since she last saw him in the courtroom. The lines around his eyes were deeper, the dimple at the corner of his mouth, more pronounced. His normally clean-shaven jawline now sported a healthy scruff that in other circumstances would make her drool. But in that moment, his face twisted into a picture of such grief, that her chest ached with it.
The man she’d shared drunken toasts with, who she’d let give her multiple orgasms, whose firm mouth always looked about to laugh, was gone. In his place was a haggard, exhausted, heartsick man she barely recognized. What had happened?
Fucking duh. How could she have been so thoughtless after Jamey had spent days before and after her brother’s funeral crying at their kitchen table?
Jarrod might be a thorn in her side, exceedingly arrogant, and endlessly frustrating, but even she wouldn’t wish him the kind of grief he wore.
But when they sat after the first song, Jarrod shifted, and placed his arm over the back of the pew. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lydia smirk. Fucking hell. She pitched forward, scooting forward on the pew, but still, his arm remained casually draped over the back. If she sat back at all, like a normal person would, she’d lean right into his embrace. And she couldn’t have that, no sirree. But after sitting ramrod straight through two eulogies and the sermon, her ass hurt and her back ached. With a quiet huff of resignation, she sagged back against the pew… and Jarrod’s arm.
Wrapped in his arm, she became hyper-aware anytime he stiffened. She assumed during those times he was thinking of his late brother, who had only been in his mid-thirties, according to Jamey. Jamey seemed to adore all her brothers, so Jarrod couldn’t be all bad, could he? But why had he sold out, taking money from the dirtiest corporations, and building a reputation on getting them off the hook from everything?
For a moment the anger she’d clung to ever since she’d thrown him out of the playhouse, resurrected. But that was over now. A past life. If she’d learned anything in the two months since the trial ended and she’d been sacked on the spot, denied a spot on the appeals team, was that she had to let go, move on, start over. She was in good company. All her sisters had needed to move home to regroup, and look how happy they were as a result. Lexi was pulled back to the present by his heavy sigh. And before she could stop herself, she leaned in. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she whispered.
He went tight. Fuck. Had she said the wrong thing? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d opened her mouth and inserted her foot. But then his hand came to her shoulder and he squeezed. Warmth spread across her chest. At least she’d managed one good deed today. Two, if she counted helping her dad with the cattle.
As they rose for the sending hymn, he gave her shoulder another squeeze before dropping his hand. For a split second, she wished it were still there. That she had someone to lean on the way Lydia leaned on Colton, Cassie on Parker, safe and secure within the confines of his embrace. But that wasn’t her calling in life. She’d always been a crusader, looking out for and defending those she loved. And that was a solitary job.
As soon as the hymn was finished and Wilson Watson’s casket was carried out of the building, the church buzzed with the familiar chatter and gossip of neighbors and friends. It was Colton who broke the ice first, reaching around her and Lydia to offer Jarrod his hand. “Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise. You feeding your son steak already?”
“Of course,” he deadpanned. “That’s how we do it out here in the boonies.”
“You have the benefit of Jamey’s good cooking. And Dottie’s. Nice to see you again, Lydia,” he acknowledged shifting his attention to her sister. “Alexis.”
Lydia made a face that was half-amused, half-shocked. “Alexis? The only person who calls her that is mom. When she’s hopping mad. It’s Lexi for the rest of us.”
Thrown under the bus again. They’d be discussing this later. Over chocolate.
“I see… Lexi.”
She could hear the smile in his voice again, and if not for how irritated she was that he’d learned her nickname, from her sister, she might have gone weak in the knees from the sexiness of it.
Chapter Nine
Alexis… Lexi, had been the last person he’d expected to see this morning when Jamey announced they had another funeral to attend. Fucking funerals. Every moment reminded him of Jason, of everything his family had lost with his brother’s death. Singing Amazing Grace had been the worst — he’d been pulled right back to Jason’s funeral and the procession of bagpipes that marched in front of his casket from the firehouse to St. Joseph’s. The vision was burned into his memory the way the grief had burned a tunnel straight into his heart. The only bright spot in the whole service had been Lexi.
He hadn’t intended to sit, given how crowded the church was with people who actually knew Mayor Watson when he arrived. But then he’d caught sight of her profile, and his legs had pulled him through the crowd. Three things surprised him — her acknowledgment of his brother’s death and the lump it raised in his throat, and that when he’d settled his hand on her shoulder, she hadn’t shrugged him away. What was that about? He’d been fully prepared for her to shrug him off with a scathing glare, just like she’d shrugged off every other overture he’d made since November.
But now that the funeral was over and the moment passed, her walls were high as ever. Her scent, as always, hit him like a punch to the throat — a heady mix of citru
s and spice that reminded him of summers on Nantucket. It took all his self-control to refrain from bending to her neck and inhaling.
They stood, but there was nowhere to go. It would have been easy for Jarrod to slip out, he was on the far aisle, but everyone seemed to be waiting to file out the center and pay their respects to the family. And he’d be a fool to leave and miss another opportunity to needle his favorite lawyer. Alexis had turned her back as soon as she stood, falling in line with her sister and the others waiting to leave by the center aisle. He leaned in and fired the opening shot. “You look lovely today… Lexi,” he said, biting back a chuckle. Her back stiffening was the only acknowledgment she gave. He spoke again. “I didn’t realize the mayor’s funeral was such a big deal.”
“He was the mayor for over fifty years,” she answered tersely without turning around.
“I’d love to buy you dinner when we get back to D.C. You know, treat you to a proper consolation meal?” He couldn’t resist adding the last bit, knowing he’d get a rise.
This time, she turned around and glared. “I’m sure you’ve already heard, but I live here now.”
His eyebrows skyrocketed. “I… hadn’t.” Why hadn’t Jamey disclosed that juicy tidbit? When he’d been here in November, she’d made it clear she suspected something had happened between him and Lexi, but he’d been able to sidestep her questions.
This certainly changed things. And made him glad he’d decided to take the full year of leave his law firm offered their top partners. “How about dinner here, then?”
As Lexi opened her mouth to reply, his sister jumped in. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” For once, Jamey’s timing irritated the shit out of him. “Brodie and I have to get over to the Hansen’s before this crowd does. His truck’s idling out front, but we can slip through this side door.” She pulled on his arm, and he turned to follow her, but not before he caught Lexi’s eye one last time. He shot her wide grin and a wink before turning. She was going to flip when she learned he was here to stay. And wouldn’t that be fun to see?
Chapter Ten
“I really should stay here and check on the cows,” Lexi said as her sisters prepared to head over to the Hansen’s arena.
“Oh pish,” answered her twin. “I think you’re avoiding a very handsome lawyer.”
“Absolutely not,” she lied vehemently. “He’s probably not even going to be there. He didn’t know the mayor.”
“But Jamey’s helping Ma with the food. Of course he’s going to be there,” added Carolina with a knowing smile. “C’mon. It’s time to ‘fess up.”
“If I wasn’t already married to the sexiest man around,” said her oldest sister, Cassie, “I’d go for him in a hot second. Put him in a cowboy hat and boots, and cover that fine ass in a pair of Wranglers, and he’d become Prairie’s most eligible bachelor overnight.”
Lexi’d had a similar thought, the new scruff Jarrod sported was definitely yummy. “But who cares about his hot bod when he’s, when he’s… arrogant.” She screwed up her face in frustration. “And cocky. And-and… opinionated.” Her sisters burst out laughing. “What’s so funny about that?” She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s true.”
“Because, sis,” Carolina said, wiping her eye. “You just described yourself.”
“Yeah,” added Lydia. “I think you don’t like him because he didn’t fall all over you and hang on your every word.”
“Not. True. I don’t like him because he has no morals.”
“I can’t believe that,” said Lydia. “Look at Jamey. Jamey’s as loyal and kind-hearted as they come. And I can’t imagine she’d adore her brothers if they were assholes.”
“His clients are known polluters, known rule-breakers.”
Cassie gave her a measured look. “Not everyone is a crusader, sis. Have you ever asked him why he represents those clients? Maybe he has a good reason.”
“There’s never a good reason to represent entities that are hurting other people, or our planet.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Cassie had been a combat helicopter pilot, and while they’d never talked about her experiences in the Middle East in great detail, she was sure Cassie lived with the fallout of impossible choices.
Cassie’s mouth pulled tight. “I’m just suggesting that you don’t know the whole story, and that maybe you should talk to him before you jump to your self-righteous conclusions, sis. That’s all.”
“I am not self-righteous,” Lexi sputtered. Her answer set of another round of laughter among her sisters.
“You’ve been this way ever since you were seven, and you brought home that baby kitty the Simpson brothers were harassing behind the church,” corrected Cassie. “You’ve always had a soft spot for the underdog, which I love about you. Even if it does cloud your judgment at times.”
“C’mon, just go with us?” Lydia begged.
“Pretty please?” added Carolina. “It might be a wake, but you know how much fun they are.”
Her sisters had a point — why deny herself fun just because of Jarrod? Even if he was there, she could avoid him. Lord knew, she’d managed that countless times in D.C. And she loved spending time with her family and friends. Tomorrow would be another long, hard day mending fences with her father, she could afford to let her hair down. “Okay, I’ll go.”
Lydia jumped up from her seat and hugged her tight. “Little Bubba will be so happy to spend more time with his auntie.”
“So you and Colton can sneak off for a quickie in the barn?” she teased.
Lydia turned beet red.
By the time Lexi and her sisters arrived at the Hansens’, second, third, and fourth thoughts bombarded her. She should have stayed home and gone to bed early with a good book. Lost herself in a romance about Highlanders and strong-willed English lasses. She should have worn something besides her favorite denim jeans and red boots. Yet, she couldn’t help scanning the crowded arena for signs of Jarrod as soon as she’d helped herself to a pint of Mike McAllister’s beer. His brewery had taken off, thanks to funding from Emmaline Andersson’s husband, Declan Case. Her mom confirmed that Mike’s root beer made the best floats. She now had a full keg of it behind the Formica counter in the diner.
“Looking for someone?” a deep sexy voice beside her asked.
Lexi yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin and practically spilling her beer. “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone? You could give them a heart attack,” she said, turning to face Jarrod.
He grimaced at her words, but the expression came and went so fast, Lexi wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“At least I didn’t spill my beer.” She held up her glass.
He raised his. “Here’s to Wilson. I’m sure he was good. And if he wasn’t. I’m sure he was good at it.”
Lexi almost snorted her beer, a laugh catching in her throat the same time she was taking a sip. A vivid memory flashed in her head, of Jarrod, naked and looming over her. Definitely good at it. “You did not just say that.”
Jarrod grinned and flicked his eyebrows. “He had five kids. He must have been good at it.”
Heat flushed Lexi’s face. She must be as red as her sister was earlier. “You are so dirty,” she said, punctuating each word.
“Nah, I’m just Irish.”
Just then, Lexi heard a hint of the broad Boston accent she’d become accustomed to hearing from Jamey. Jarrod had obviously practiced for the courtroom. But Lexi had to confess she liked the sound of it. “So you’re saying the Irish are all dirty?”
“I think you have first-hand knowledge of that,” he replied with a smirk.
“That night never happened,” she said loftily. Yet her pulse raced, and heat pooled low in her belly.
Jarrod took a step closer, so close she caught another whiff of his masculine, woodsy scent. “I have fond memories of that night… Lexi.”
His voice dropped an octave when he said her name. It was like a caress that slowly rippled down her body. Lexi fought back the shiver of arousal poised to give her inner thoughts away. She had fond memories, too — what she remembered of it. So fond, in fact, that Jarrod had starred in many a midnight fantasy with her trusty vibrator. But that did not make the man relationship material. Nope. She was going to settle down with a dependable rancher. Someone with a sweet disposition, even if she had to take out an ad in Rancher’s Monthly to do it. “I-I have to go look for my sister,” she fibbed. “Nice seeing you again.” She turned.
“Wait.” His hand snaked out to capture her arm before she could take a step. Butterflies launched in her belly at his touch. “You never answered my question.”
“What question?” But she knew. She’d hoped he’d forgotten. The butterflies turned into jackrabbits, kicking her insides to pieces, and she drew a shaky breath.
“From earlier. At the church. Can I take you to dinner?”
Dinner alone with Jarrod was a bad idea. The best kind of bad idea. She should say no.
“Unless you don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?” he added with a grin when she failed to answer immediately.
Heat spiked through her. “I’m not afraid to be alone with you at all,” she retorted.
“That’s not what I said,” he countered, ever the lawyer.
“I know what you said,” she snapped, feeling more and more like a witness he was cross-examining. “I trust myself completely.” Ha. Her conscience objected. You know how much you want to kiss him. She risked a glance his direction. His mouth was firm, but not thin. Lips perfectly shaped for kissing. Awareness zinged through her. Oh heavens, yes, she’d like to kiss that mouth. But, no. Not happening. Definitely not happening. “Tell me where,” her mouth said before her brain could object further.
“Gino’s,” was his immediate reply. “Seven-thirty.”
“Fine.”
