The Last Second Chance: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 3)

by Lucy Score

  “Make that two,” Gia added.

  “You remember what happened last time we did shots together?” Joey warned Gia.

  “Ugh, Ed’s Erasers. Don’t remind me. I ended up giving Anthony Berkowicz a Monthly Moon cover story about how dumb I thought Beckett’s face was.”

  Joey grinned. “On second thought, maybe we should have some Erasers.”

  She felt a tingle at the base of her spine and knew that Jax was watching her. Whether he was joking with his brothers, taking his mother for a spin around the dance floor, his gaze always returned to her.

  Joey bided her time until just before midnight. Without looking in his direction, she sauntered outside, leaving the liveliness inside.

  It was a night so crystal clear and cold that she could see her breath. Thankfully the perfect amount of booze in her system kept her warm. She hadn’t drank enough to make any bad decisions, just enough to loosen a few inhibitions.

  She carefully followed the side of the tent looking for a quiet, secluded spot. Joey felt him before she heard him. That awareness of his presence she’d always had. His return to Pierce Acres had woken her from a sound sleep. It was as if the shadow had slipped off the face of the moon, finally bringing the light. But in the last eight years, Joey had grown accustomed to the dark.

  “You’re not leaving without dancing with me.” It wasn’t a question or a request. Jax didn’t ask for permission.

  Joey turned to face him, bracing for the familiar hum that vibrated through her blood every time she looked him in the eyes. She’d avoided him for months when he came back, not certain she could resist her body’s baser instincts.

  Looking at him now, she knew the caution had been warranted. Even in her painful, pinching heels, he still had a couple of inches on her. His hair, dark and thick, curled a bit at the top. The ever-present stubble, something she’d always found irresistible, had been shaved off for the day. At one time, she’d been convinced that fallen angels had carved his face. Now she was fairly certain those dangerous planes were the work of the devil.

  His gaze, despite a color akin to icy seas, warmed her blood to a simmer.

  Even after all this time, she still remembered what if felt like to have his hands on her. She’d told herself that it was puppy love, that her sex life couldn’t peak during her teenage years. But, so far, her carefully selected ventures into the physical since then had held none of the thrill she’d experienced with Jax.

  She walked to him, thankful that she didn’t trip on the uneven sidewalk, and put her hands on his shoulders.

  Joey almost smiled at the suspicion that lit his eyes. He probably thought she was going to kick him in the balls. But she had something more mutually satisfying in mind. A fling. A one-night stand. She could enjoy scratching an itch and putting him back in his place, reminding him of what could have been his had he stayed.

  “What are you doing?” he asked on a gravelly whisper.

  “You wanted to dance,” she smiled slyly.

  Jax hesitated for a beat before shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She felt claustrophobic surrounded by his heat, by his scent. But two could play at that game.

  Joey let him bring his broad palms to her waist. She wound her arms around his neck and let her hips sway to the beat of the slow rock ballad the Wild Nigels were playing the hell out of.

  She felt his hesitation and relished it. Back in control. God, it felt good. And so did being in his arms again. But she wouldn’t dwell on that. Joey shook her hair back and wet her lips. She wasn’t going to lose her nerve now.

  As if he read her mind, Jax’s fingers tightened on the curves of her hips. He pulled her in closer so they were touching everywhere. The heat that pumped through his crisp white shirt should have scalded her hands, but instead it just drew her in.

  Her breasts were flattened against his chest and she felt his belt buckle digging into her stomach. It wasn’t the only thing hard against her. Somewhere between exiting the tent and pulling her in, Jax had gone raging hard.

  She swallowed a heady combination of desire and fear. She could control this, couldn’t she? She could be the one to walk away this time.

  His breath was hot against her face. They were too close. Her heart was thumping like a hammer and she hoped he couldn’t feel it.

  “Joey.” There it was. Her name on his lips. A prayer and a curse.

  She was saved from responding by the crowd in the tent.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven …”

  She tried to step back and get an inch of space to breathe, but Jax wasn’t having it. One hand trailed up her back to cup her neck, the other slid dangerously low on her hip.

  “Six, five, four …”

  Her heart was pounding out of her chest now. She could still win, just needed to keep her head.

  “Three, two, one!”

  She didn’t hear the roar of the crowd. She didn’t see the fireworks display happening at the front of the tent. The only thing that existed to her at midnight was Jax’s mouth. There was nothing soft or sweet about the kiss. There was a repressed violence about the way his lips moved over hers, crushing, bruising.

  The years apart had mellowed nothing. Joey dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as her mouth voluntarily opened to him. His tongue breached her lips and invaded with aggression.

  He was using the kiss as a brand, reminding her who she belonged to. But Joey Greer belonged to no man. She stole back the lead, only partially aware of what she was doing. She pushed them away from the white walls of the tent, the only thing separating them from the merriment of a few hundred people, until his back met a tree.

  Joey shoved her knee between his legs and felt him tense. She smiled against his lips when he flinched.

  His hands were roaming now. One slid around to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress. She purred and he growled.

  “Be with me tonight.” She bit his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth. He wasn’t the only one who could make demands.

  “How much have you had to drink?” he groaned out the words as she pressed her hips into him. She felt him flex into her, grinding his erection against her lower belly.

  “What?”

  He pulled back from the kiss, fisted his hand in her hair.

  “How much have you had to drink?” he repeated.

  “What are you, my mother?” she asked, trying to get her body under control. She shoved against his chest, but he didn’t loosen his hold on her.

  “You’re drunk.” He sounded out of breath and accusatory.

  “I’m not drunk. I have a nice little buzz going. I know what I’m doing,” she told him.

  “We can’t do this, Joey,” he was pulling her hands away from him. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “I’m giving you permission.”

  “Not like this.” Jax’s tone left no room for argument and it pushed her over the edge.

  All of the heat from their kiss evaporated into the bitterest of anger.

  She bit her tongue and spun around, intending to march off, leaving him and his spectacular hard-on alone. But his hand snaked out and grabbed her by the elbow. “Joey, I’m trying to be the good guy here.”

  “Have fun with that,” she bit off the words. “You don’t want me, I’m sure there’s someone else inside who won’t have any problems going home with me tonight.”

  She’d gone too far, hadn’t actually meant it. But before she could take the words back, which she wouldn’t have anyway, he was whirling her around. Now it was Joey who had her back to the tree. Jax stepped in on her, robbing her of her personal space. His hands gripped her arms hard.

  “Don’t ever say that again.” The tic in his jaw, once only visible on the lacrosse field, flared to life. He gave her one good shake. Rather than fear, Joey felt fury race through her system.

  “You have no say in what I do with my life. You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

 
“I’m back, Joey,” he gritted it out. “And I will fix this.”

  “Not this way, Ace.” Joey stomped on his foot and shoved away from him. She thought about running back to the party, but that would only result in two broken ankles from the ice picks on her feet. At least they served her well on Jax’s foot. She settled for a steamed stomp toward the tent. But it wasn’t fast enough. She heard him coming and barely had time to brace for the impact. He was on her like a freight train, manhandling her over his shoulder. She landed hard enough to knock the wind out of her, if not the fight.

  She got in a half-assed punch to his kidney and a weak kick to his stomach before he slapped her on the ass hard. Handprint hard.

  Joey gasped in shock. Her dress had ridden up scandalously high, showing off her very small underwear. Jax’s hand settled over her ass and she froze, not willing to move a millimeter in case it would make his palm press even harder against the part of her that, a minute ago, had been a rainforest of lust.

  “Where are you—”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “I’m not ready to go home.” She was pouting. She was hanging over a man’s shoulder and pouting. Maybe she had had a little too much to drink. Joey Greer didn’t pout. She punched.

  Jax set her on her feet next to his car. “Get in.”

  “No!”

  He yanked the passenger door open so hard she thought he might rip it from the frame. “Get in the fucking car, Joey.”

  She took a page from Summer’s book and primly slid onto the seat, refusing to look at him as he slammed the door shut. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in Jax’s car. The Nova was a sweet ride. He’d even let her drive it once after Summer had stupidly broken up with Carter and they all convened at his house to cheer Carter up with greasy food and zombie TV.

  Jax certainly wasn’t going to let her take the wheel this time. He slid into the driver’s seat and slammed his door. The tic in his jaw was pulsing.

  “You know, it’s rude to leave without saying good-bye to the bride and groom,” she said icily.

  Jax didn’t bother sparing her a glance.

  “Shut up, Joey.”

  2

  She woke up the next morning with a mouth dryer than the sawdust floor of the stable’s riding ring and a marching band of a headache. Goddamn that Jax. She hated when he was right. She’d had too much to drink and humiliated herself with the one man she was determined to never let see her vulnerable again.

  And that asshole turned her down.

  How dare he? Joey started to stomp downstairs until she realized her head was about to snap off her neck. Carefully, she made her way into the airy kitchen that was way too bright. She intended to keep her head on straight enough to start the coffee. Only the coffee had already been started. Next to the machine sat a horse-covered mug that she’d tucked away in the back of her cabinet out of stupid sentimentality. It was the mug Jax had bought for her at their first date at Overly Caffeinated. There was a bottle of aspirin next to the mug.

  Jax.

  Last night, she’d busted through her front door the second his car came to a halt out front. He must have come inside after she stormed upstairs.

  She had offered him a night of no-strings-attached fun and he had the audacity to lecture her on alcohol consumption. What she wouldn’t give to throw this horse mug at his head right now.

  She settled for putting her head in her hands to block out the annoying light of dawn that was beginning to invade the front windows of her house. She had work to do, plus it was launch day for Summer’s online magazine. She had to slap on a not hung over supportive face for her friend.

  Her groaning must have drowned out the purr of the engine, because she jumped when she heard the knock at the front door.

  “Go away if you value your life,” she said in a half-yell, half-moan that had her head splitting open again.

  She lowered her forehead to the cool granite of the island.

  The door opened. Damn it. She was going to have to start locking up.

  The smell of warm, deep-fried goodness had her peeking over an arm. Jax stood just inside her door grinning and holding a grease-stained paper bag.

  “Get out,” she rasped.

  “Not feeling so friendly this morning, huh?” Jax smirked.

  She hurled the coffee mug at him showing off her Little League arm. She would have nailed him too if he hadn’t ducked. The ceramic shattered against the doorframe, sending red splinters everywhere. Unfazed, Jax crossed to her.

  He dumped the bag on the counter and handed her a sports drink. He reached around her, caging her against the island.

  “Listen, Ace, last night was a one-time offer. There’s no second chances,” she told him trying to shove past him.

  He handed her two aspirin and looked her dead in the eyes.

  “I didn’t turn you down, Joey. I took a rain check.”

  Desperate for relief, she washed down the tablets with a glare and the never-found-in-nature blue liquid.

  She tried not to pay attention to the fact that he looked entirely too good in jeans and a tight thermal shirt. It made her nauseous.

  “No rain checks, Pierce.” She tried shoving him back a step, but the man was a mountain. Immovable and impressive.

  “We will happen, Joey. There’s no point fighting it.” He tucked a clump of hair behind her ear and, before she could react, he leaned in for a hard, fast kiss.

  He pulled back before she had time to respond…or kick him.

  “I’ll see you around.” And with that, he was gone, whistling his way out the front door leaving Joey wishing that she had something else to throw at him.

  She waited until she heard him drive up toward the brewery before sneaking a peek in the bag. Three hash browns, glimmering in their own oil, beckoned her unsettled stomach with the promise of carbs and grease.

  “Bastard,” she muttered as she took a healthy bite of the first one.

  * * *

  Jax was still whistling when he got to the brewery. He’d beat Carter and didn’t expect Beckett until well after lunch seeing as how his brother was probably still in bed with his new bride.

  He tried not to think about how long it had been since he’d been with a woman. Great, now he was thinking about it. And about last night. And, great. Now he was hard.

  Jax took a few deep breaths and concentrated on his surroundings, willing the blood to return to his head. The day before the grand opening and the construction work was finally complete, leaving only the chaos of dressing and outfitting the place to be ready to serve a few hundred beers and plates of farm-to-table goodness.

  The tables and chairs had been set in the Summer-approved layout, which he had to admit was a much better use of the space than the haphazard jumble he and his brothers had originally planned.

  The bar was stocked with a shiny new tap system and shelves of full liquor bottles. There was another box of glassware ready to run through the washer, new towels ready to sop up the inevitable spills. The barstools were a work of art. They’d been a stretch for the budget, but the metal bodies and rustic wood tops fit the space perfectly.

  He could see it all in his head. His family clustered around a table while half of the town bustled in and out, sampling, laughing, gossiping. His brothers and their wives would raise their families here with the solid pine floors beneath their feet. He’d win Joey back here and their story would begin again.

  He always had a knack for seeing stories. That was the appeal of screenwriting to him. And his story in Blue Moon was just getting started. As an idiot teen, he’d been convinced that he needed to go somewhere to be someone. As John Pierce’s son, he had already been defined, already had expectations. And as the brother of an Army Ranger and a lawyer, he was already fucked.

  It hadn’t bothered him really. Until Joey.

  She deserved more than a jock and a teenage screw up. She deserved a man. One successful in his own right. And if Blue Moon was her home, wel
l then it would be his, too.

  He’d doggedly pursued a career in Hollywood, slowly crawling up the food chain until one of his pet scripts hit it big. It could have been enough, probably should have been enough. He could have come home flush with success and cash. A real somebody. Jax felt the familiar stab of guilt when he thought what his selfishness had cost his family. He hadn’t been here when his dad got sick or when Carter was discharged with bullet holes.

  But more doors had opened for him. More opportunities arose. He’d carved out a comfortable life for himself on the west coast. A nice house in the hills, the phone numbers of several aspiring actresses and models, invitations to the hottest events. But it hadn’t been enough.

  No matter how fat his bank account or who was on his arm on the red carpet, something was always missing.

  When he found the picture of Joey—all cocky grin and long, long legs—that Summer had posted on her blog last June, he’d booked a red-eye home. Nothing would ever be enough without her. So he’d plant roots here with his brothers on the land his father had loved. And he would make it all up to them. Especially Joey.

  She’d kissed him last night. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It had been a power play on her part, but it still counted. Joey didn’t do things she didn’t want to do. And for the first time since he’d come home, Jax felt hope. She still wanted him.

  And now that he’d had a taste of her, he wasn’t going to stop.

  A commotion from below had him snapping back to reality and shoving thoughts of Joey and her wicked mouth aside.

  He found Franklin, his mother’s fiancé and Gia’s father, directing a symphony of chaos on the lower level. He was a bear of a man, broad shoulders and generous proportions. Today he was wearing a long-sleeve Hawaiian shirt with hula girls and sharks on it. He held a cellphone to his ear while carrying on a conversation with a delivery guy and rolling silverware into paper napkins.

  Jax sighed with relief. Franklin, Blue Moon’s most successful restaurateur, had volunteered to help the brothers set up for the opening. And thank God for that because Jax was just starting to realize that they were dangerously close to being in over their heads.