by Taylor Hart
The message brought him a smile, and he thought about the crazy woman who’d come to check on him and bring supplies.
Jax puttered out down the hall and into the kitchen, noting the soda and crackers on the table. He ripped open the package of the crackers and ate one. Whenever he’d gotten sick as a child, his mother would get him soda and crackers. He moved to the cupboard and got a glass out, taking care to pour the soda and take a sip.
Tia was kind. He remembered how she’d stormed toward him like she would kiss him. She was bossy, too. Grateful for her bossiness, he walked back to the table and sat, sipping his soda and nibbling at his crackers. The woman had come into the den of sickness when she hadn’t had to.
He hated sickness. Ugh. Jax grabbed his throbbing shoulder.
Picking up his phone, he read her text again. This girl was so different from Karli. Not that it was a competition, but still. Karli was the kind of gorgeous that had been paid for by a lot of plastic surgery. The most annoying part was that Karli had deceived him. It had blindsided him big time when she’d left him standing on that beach all alone. He’d felt stupid, humiliated, betrayed. But at least he hadn’t had to live it down in a town like Snow Valley, where everyone knew everything.
Jax’s mind flashed to the situation with Brad and Tia. He hated the guy, and he wouldn’t mind giving him a bloody nose in a dark alley just for good measure. Dang, why was he feeling so protective of this woman already? He couldn’t forget about her red hair, smooth skin, and kind eyes, nor the way she looked at him like she would really kiss him if he wouldn’t go back to bed.
Jax texted her. I’m feeling better. Thank you. Plan on me coming over for dinner if you’re still up for it.
He stood and moved back down the hallway, heading back to bed. Tia would be proud of him. And he wasn’t falling in love with her. That wasn’t possible.
Chapter 12
The day had been long, to say the least. The flower shop had been slammed. The Harringtons’ daughter had eloped with her boyfriend. Scandalous. Now the parents were having an impromptu open house tomorrow night. They needed flowers. Lots of flowers.
Mrs. Harrington had come in for roughly four hours and helped Tia put the arrangements together. Tia had actually learned a ton from the lady, but it’d been intense. The only good part about the business was that it’d kept her mind off of her date with Jax tonight.
Her phone buzzed, and she took it out of her pocket. Her heart sank. Brad.
We need to talk.
She texted back. No, we don’t. Stinking Brad. What did he think—that he could drop her and pick her back up whenever he wanted?
Tia, I’m sorry. When can I see you?
Never. Frustrated, she turned on her “do not disturb” setting. She diverted her attention to the kitchen window. There was a snowy, hazy sunset, and she was grateful for how quiet life was out here. She liked quiet.
Last night, after checking in on Jax, she’d come home and actually written five pages on her story. Which was a big deal. Of course, the protagonist had transformed into Jax Casey, except she’d changed his name to Stone Hall. Now that was a cool name for a guy who was military turned civilian turned bodyguard. She’d used Jax’s idea. It’d been so fulfilling to get the words out, but she needed some help with the middle of the story where the action would happen. She might use Jax and his military brain tonight for help.
It was crazy that his mother had been an author. She’d googled his mother more and couldn’t find anything about her personal life. When was the last time Jax had seen her? Had she come to his father’s funeral?
Not that it mattered. The subject was off-limits.
She thought of how Jax had spoken with his grandpa and Martha and Pastor John. He called everyone sir and ma’am. Manners were just drilled into the man. She remembered how he’d practically run down the hallway when she’d told him she would kiss him. Her mood brightened. The man was intriguing.
She checked on her carne asada and Mexican rice and special dip, plus a side of vegetables. She hoped he would like it.
The doorbell rang, and she rushed to answer.
When she opened it, Jax was holding a bottle of cider and a package of cookies. “I wanted to bring something.”
She smiled and took them. “Thank you, come in. How are you feeling?”
“Right as rain.” He walked in, giving the place a cursory glance. “I like it.”
“It’s perfect for me. And I’m grateful my aunt and uncle let me stay here rent free.” She shut the door and motioned to the hooks on the wall and the little spot for shoes. “You can put your things there.”
“Okay.”
The scent of his cologne hit her. It wasn’t heavy, and it smelled sort of like cool mint. She liked it.
The side of his lip tugged up. “You okay?”
She jumped a little, moving toward the kitchen. “Yeah, sorry.” Had she really just gotten lost in his smell? “I hope you like Mexican.” She’d debated texting him all day and asking, but she didn’t know how to cook many things, and this was one she was confident in.
“Smells great. How can I help?” He followed her into the kitchen.
This guy didn’t just have manners; he was sincere in helping. So unlike Brad used to be. He’d always told her that if they got married, he would work and she would cook. Crap, she didn’t want Brad in her head right now.
Tia put the cookies on the counter. “Go ahead and grab your plate, and we can dish up.”
He took both of the plates off the table and brought them to the stove, holding one out to her.
She systematically opened the lids and put a piece of beef on their plates with the sauce. She added the rice, some chips, salsa, and the steamed broccoli.
“Man, I can’t tell you how much a home-cooked meal means to me.”
She put a lid on the sauce and turned to face him. He was right beside her, almost close enough to kiss. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. “No problem.”
The side of his lip quirked up. “I guess I did demand you cook.”
“Yep, part of the contract.” Whatever was between them was becoming more and more real.
“Right.”
They both sat, and she asked, “Would you mind if I pray?”
“Nope.” He linked his hands together.
She said a simple prayer, asking the Lord to bless his grandpa and her aunt and uncle and their family. “And thank you for healing Jax.” She finished with blessing the food. “Amen.”
“Amen.” Jax was smiling at her.
“Something funny?”
He picked up his fork and put his napkin on his lap. “Do you believe in God?”
What an odd question. “Yes.” She felt silly, like she was a little kid and he thought her prayer was cute. She picked up her fork and took a bite.
He took a bite of the beef, then closed his eyes. “This is amazing.”
It didn’t hurt her ego to hear him praise her food. “Thank you. It turned out.”
They ate for a few moments, taking their time to savor the meal.
“Do you believe in God?” she asked.
He paused. “I do, but not in the way that God actually affects things in our lives. I believe He created all things, and then He lets it all just play out.”
“That is called Deism,” she said. “Benjamin Franklin actually took that view of God, too.”
He looked surprised, then nodded. “What about you?”
She thought of her struggle this past year. “When my mom died, I was so angry at God. I decided I wasn’t going to believe in him anymore. And when Brad and Ellie got together, it nearly destroyed me.” She focused on her plate, embarrassed.
“I get it.”
She met his eyes. “But one day, when I was walking around New York feeling so lonely, I realized I was lost. My phone wasn’t working, and I stopped at a bus stop. I was scared. There’s a lot of different people in New York.”
His face grew serious. “So what did you do?”<
br />
Emotion clogged her throat just thinking about it. “I remembered something that Pastor John would say: God is the best GPS. Pastor John told us that God always knew where we were, what we needed, and how to help us, but we had to ask Him. So that’s what I did. I prayed for help.”
“What happened?”
Tia took a sip from her drink. “This lady got off the bus, and I asked her for help. And she didn’t just help me. She took me back to her house and let me charge my phone, she fed me a simple meal of soup and bread, and she just … talked to me.” She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “I know it sounds silly, but she reminded me of my mother, and I really needed someone that day.”
Jax reached across the table to take her hand, just like he’d done the first night they’d gone out.
“So, after that, I let God back in, and I decided I would look for the ways God blesses me. And once I started looking, I found Him more and more.” She squeezed his hand. “Maybe God was the one who brought you into the flower shop the other day. Maybe God was the one who brought me a fake boyfriend, just when I needed him.”
The side of Jax’s lip tugged up. “Maybe.”
“What?” She felt nervous.
“Nothing.”
“No, something.”
He let out a light laugh but his eyes grew serious. “You’re kinda preachy Snow Valley girl.”
She laughed, but their eyes held. “Am I?”
Looking at his plate, he took a bite. “But it’s all good.”
It felt like he didn’t want to continue that line of thought, so she let it go. They both ate again, and somehow the silence wasn’t awkward.
“So why did you come back to Snow Valley?” he asked.
“Snow Valley is my home.”
“I know, but with your mom gone,” he said tentatively. “And with everything that happened with Brad—I’m not saying it’s bad, I just …” He trailed off.
She grimaced, feeling a prick of humiliation.
“All I’m saying is that you could have gone anywhere.” He gestured to her. “You’re a writer.”
“Yes, I am.” She put her fork down and took a drink of cider. “Earlier, before you got here, I gazed out at the sun setting through the fog and winter haze. As it went down behind the mountains with pinks and purples in the sky, I just felt peaceful.” She didn’t know if he would understand. “When I was in New York, going to school and then working, I never had that. When my mom passed, I still thought I would come back.”
“To be with Brad,” he said, filling in the blank.
She nodded. “And when that went sour, I tried to run away, but my uncle Michael showed up. He has business everywhere and he’d told me he wanted to take me to dinner just to catch up, but …” Unwanted tears filled her eyes. “Seeing him just made me want to come home.”
He pointed his fork at her. “Plus, I was deployed, so you were extra lonely.”
After a moment of confusion, she laughed, appreciating that he’d lightened the mood. “Right. Exactly.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Enough about me. Your turn.”
Dramatically, he put a hand to his chest. “I’ve got no story.”
“Pfft. Right. Just so you know, you’re the protagonist of the story I’m writing now, and I put out five pages last night.”
“Really?” He smiled sheepishly.
She mimicked him, pointing her fork at him. “Don’t let that go to your head.”
“Why would that go to my head? I mean, sure, everyone bases their hero off of me.”
She knew he was teasing, but she could tell he was a bit cocky. “I led myself right into that one, didn’t I?’
“Yep.”
Their eyes held, and attraction sizzled between them. “Story,” she insisted.
He took a deep breath. “Story. Okay. My dad was Air Force. My mom stayed home and wrote books. Honestly, it took a long time before she was ever published.”
“But you never talk to her,” she asked.
Irritation flickered across his face, but it was gone fast. “Nope.” He tapped the table, looking like his mind went elsewhere. “We moved every two to three years. It was rough, but I didn’t even think about it. I mean, we came to Snow Valley every year and stayed with Grandpa for a week or so, I loved that, but I didn’t really mind moving. Until I was fifteen and she left.” He waved a hand through the air. “Pretty short story.”
She could feel his pain. As much as she wanted to ask more, he didn’t want to talk about his mom.
Jax crossed his arms. “Go ahead. I know you want to ask, and you told me about Brad, so I guess you can.”
“Have you seen her since then?”
“Nope. I know she’s still alive when another book comes out.” He picked up his fork and took another bite. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “And you and your dad were close.”
“When mom left, my dad and I got really close. When I was eighteen, I thought about going to college, but I’d always wanted to go into the Navy.” He flashed a grin. “Me and Dad would banter about it all the time.”
Her heart warmed, thinking about him and his father.
His face fell. “Then Dad passed.”
She nodded, feeling her own emotions start to bubble up.
“But Grandpa was there with me.” With a sigh, he picked up his water. “Grandpa always called, and he would come visit, even after Mom left. My senior year, he took me on a trip to San Diego. We stayed at Hotel del Coronado right by the Navy SEAL training center. We would watch guys in training run up and down the beach. I remember distinctly knowing then that I would be one of those guys one day.”
Any preconceived notions she’d had about Jax Casey acting too tough fell away. He would do anything for his grandpa. That was clear. He was a good man. He’d even agreed to be her fake date, even though he’d told her he’d been hurt in love, too. The man had many layers.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He sat back and wiped the edges of his mouth with his napkin.
“Oh.” She hated that she would kind of zone out sometimes. Michael and Janet and Lacey and Mike all teased her about it. “Nothing.”
The side of his lip tugged up. “Hey, if you don’t want to admit you were thinking about me in a bathing suit in California, you don’t have to.”
“You wish.” She laughed and tossed her napkin at him.
He laughed too. There was a playful gleam in his eye.
But she wasn’t done with her questions. She thought of the night she’d seen him in the barn, the way he’d cringed and grabbed his shoulder. “Will you tell me about your injury?”
He hesitated, as if weighing the pros and cons of telling her. “It was a bad night. We’d been brought in to secure a statesman who was there to help negotiations between hostile terrorist organizations. The guy was trying to preserve what peace they had left, but … we lost the statesman, we were taking enemy fire on both sides. And I got shot.”
With a pang, she imagined what kind of trauma he kept reliving.
“My best friend, Tim, got hit right after me. I tried …” He broke off and then sucked in a shaky breath. “I lost my friend that night.” He swallowed and looked back at her, as if the emotions were right there and he was trying to push them away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, for lack of anything better to say. After a minute of silence, she asked, “Would you ever consider being done being a SEAL?”
He leaned back. “Funny you should ask. It’s actually time to decide if I’m re-upping or not.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you first sign up, it’s for six years. Mandatory. Well, I did two in the regular Navy, then four as a SEAL. Then I re-upped for another four, and now … I get to decide again.”
Her heart raced, and she had this crazy thought to tell him to stay. “So what are you going to do?”
He hesitated. “Re-up. I mean, where do I h
ave to go?”
“You could come here,” she said, then quickly backpedaled. “I mean, you have your grandpa and everything.”
He hesitated, a small smile tugging at his lip.
“Anyway,” she said, feeling nervous. “Finish telling me about your injury.”
The smile widened. “Are you just trying to get me to talk?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
He let her off the hook, massaging his shoulder again. “This injury was actually the turning point that led me to the bar where I met Karli.” He grunted. “I thought she was the one, but she wasn’t. Grandpa always told me that nothing good came out of a bar. He was right.”
She didn’t know what to say. This guy was pretty intimidating. The life he’d lived and the experiences he’d had were far more poignant than hers.
“What?” he asked softly. “Am I scaring you away?”
“No,” she said, answering too quickly. Even to herself, it sounded like maybe he was scaring her. “You’re not. You’re just … I’m feeling a bit out-leagued by you sometimes. All your life experience.”
“Naw.”
“You’ve lived a lot of life, seen a lot of things, been shot.”
He shook his head. “None of that matters. Believe me, on the goodness scale, you’re way at the top and I’m way at the bottom.”
She found it interesting he thought that about himself, but this wasn’t the time to dig deeper. “Not true,” she said, standing and picking up leftovers.
Jax stood too and picked up his plate, then reached for hers.
“You don’t have to do that.” She tried to get her plate back. “You’re company.”
He wouldn’t let go, stopping her with his gaze. “You cooked, I do dishes. That’s how I roll.”
Again, tension pulsed between them. She couldn’t quit thinking about what he’d said about re-upping and where would he go. She let him have the plate and grabbed a couple of things before following him into the kitchen.
Expertly, he began moving dishes into piles, and he found her soap and filled the sink.
She pointed to her cleaning supplies. “There’s my sponge and scrubber.”
“Thanks.”
