The Last Second Chance: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 3) (19 page)

She found him unloading groceries in the kitchen in a cozy scene. Jax, with snow in his hair, was putting vegetables in the refrigerator while Waffles inhaled the remains of his breakfast.

It felt…good, comfortable.

And that worried her. Was she already getting too attached? Or was she just appreciating the fine male form taking care of a domestic task? She’d probably feel the same way if she found Jax folding laundry, which was a task that she didn’t bother wasting time on.

She tabled her concern for the moment and dumped her bags on the island.

“Colby took the dogs back to the farmhouse for now,” she told him. “They got tired running around the stables.”

“I’ll check in on them when I head back out.”

“How was town?”

“I forgot how stupid snow makes everyone,” Jax said, filling a glass with water from the tap and downing it.

“Fistfights over bread and milk?”

“No, but there was almost a civil war over pineapple vodka.”

“Yay! You got the tequila,” Joey said, picking up the bottle. “I should have warned you that the liquor store before a snow storm is busier than Mrs. McCafferty’s mouth.”

“Actually, you can thank Taneisha for the tequila. It’s a long story that involves Fitz so don’t ask. But I did get you these.” He pulled out a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“Gimmie!”

Jax handed them over and watched her rip into the bag with enthusiasm. “Oh, my God. I haven’t had these in forever.” Joey peered into the bag and frowned. “Why can’t they put more chips and less air in the bags?”

“Because then you’d just have a big pile of chip dust.”

“I’ll eat all of these before dinner,” she sighed mournfully.

“Then it’s a good thing I got you a second bag and hid it already.”

“You sure know the way to a girl’s…” Joey shut herself up before she said anything stupid. She shoved another handful of chips into her face for added measure.

“So have you thought of the living arrangements for the storm?” Jax asked.

“You’re staying here, right?” Joey mumbled through a mouthful of salt and vinegar. “I mean, it just makes sense logistics wise. That way we can tag team snow removal in the morning.”

“I’d have two extra dogs with me,” he reminded her.

Joey shrugged. “That’s what the guest room is for.”

“Okay then. I’m going to finish up some things on the farm and I’ll swing by the house and get the dog beds and food.”

“Bring pants with an elastic waistband,” Joey said. “You’ll need them after dinner. I’m planning a blizzard feast.”

“Beds, food, and a pair of Summer’s maternity pants. Got it,” Jax said, leaning against the island.

Joey smirked at the thought. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him toward her placing a smacking kiss on his mouth.

“That better be an appetizer of what’s to come,” he said, moving in for another kiss.

She let him take the lead, deepening the kiss on a sigh. The kiss chased away the chill of the storm and brought Joey’s blood up to a simmer. It was just their lips that touched, but she could feel the effects throughout her entire body. Like an engine revving, ready to throw caution to the wind.

He pulled back with a growl and ran his thumb over her lower lip. “I need to get back out there and finish up a few things before dark. Hold that thought?”

Breathless, Joey settled for a wide-eyed nod as an acceptable response.

He reached down to adjust himself. “I need to buy roomier jeans if we’re gonna keep this up,” he muttered.

Joey bit her kiss-swollen lip and watched him toss a chip in Waffles’ bowl before striding out the front door.

“Get it together, Greer. You’re not eighteen anymore,” she mumbled to herself and set about unpacking the rest of the groceries.

As the snow fell faster outside her windows, Joey worked her way around the house, making sure she was domestically prepared for a good snow in. The generator was good to go, her propane tanks full, and the fridge was stocked. There was a snow shovel at the front and back doors and a pair of snowshoes on the back porch. Pet friendly salt for the steps and walkways was in a heavy bucket topped with a scoop.

She hustled upstairs and put fresh sheets on the bed and pulled some extra blankets out of the linen closet. She spread out an old picnic blanket, one she’d stolen from her parents years ago, over the bed in the guest room to minimize the dog hair her overnight guests were sure to leave behind.

With Jax taking care of the last check-in for the horses, Joey jumped in the shower before changing into plaid pajama pants and a tank top. She pulled her hair back into an unruly ponytail as she took the stairs back to the first floor.

The kitchen was the place outside the stables that she felt most at home. Recipes made sense to her. She put the right ingredients in the right amounts together, followed the directions, and she was rewarded with exactly what she set out to make. It was the predictability that she found appealing. The predictability and deliciousness.

She’d baked because her mother and grandmother had baked. Her father was always a willing guinea pig and sampled every recipe from her triumphant Boston cream cupcakes to her failed first attempt at flan. Jax and his teenage appetite had become her second biggest fan. She sometimes wondered if it wasn’t her baking that lured him to her in the first place. Maybe he couldn’t stand the thought of Bannon Bullock having her cookies to himself?

In college, baking had bled into cooking by necessity. Nowadays, in her well-stocked kitchen, Joey could whip up just about anything. Tonight it was her favorite chili, a hearty recipe she reserved for the dead of winter and snowstorms. She diced onions and peppers with the efficiency of a network food show star and while they sautéed, she unwrapped the cubed chuck and gathered her spices.

She took a minute to sync up a playlist from her laptop and shifted her cooking rhythm to match Chris Stapleton’s smoky vocals.

Waffles came to investigate when Joey put the chuck in the pan, his nose sniffing with heightened interest.

“Nice try, buddy. You can settle for some tasty chicken and rice stuff.”

Waffles looked disappointed. She was amazed at how quickly she’d gotten used to sharing her life with a dog. Granted, Waffles was probably an anomaly. Gia was full of stories of Diesel the puppy doing his best to destroy their house and Carter and Summer had their hands full with the medicated Meatball.

But Waffles was the dog that always came when called and sat by the back door when he had to go outside. He’d taken to life on the farm as if he’d been born there, befriending horses and barn cats and entertaining her riding students before class. And at night, he curled into a tight ball at her feet as if he was grateful for it all. But Joey was the grateful one. Whatever happened between her and Jax, Joey knew she’d always owe him for Waffles.

She helped herself to a bottle of porter from the fridge and opened it with the bottle opener mounted on the wall next to her back door. The beer was thick and flavorful. Perfect for drinking and seasoning. She poured a half-cup into the chili and stirred. The smells were making her mouth water and she realized she’d forgotten to grab lunch. Fueled by coffee and a need to set things in order before white, flakey chaos fell from the sky, she’d blown right past any thoughts of food.

With the chili nicely taking shape in the big pot on the range, Joey turned her attention to starting the cornbread in a cast iron skillet.

The flakes were falling fat and fast outside her cozy home. She kept an eye out the window as day turned to dusk and the snow continued to accumulate. She caught a glimpse of headlights coming up the drive and pushed the second garage door opener button signaling Jax to pull into the bay she’d emptied for him that afternoon. It would save them both time if they didn’t have to dig the Jeep out from under three feet of snow.

Waffles gave a welcoming woof when Jax bustled through the front door a minute later. Valentina and Meatball were attached to leashes looped over his wrist.

Valentina headed straight for the couch while Meatball tried to scramble up the stairs, resulting in a tangle of dogs, leashes, and man. Jax extricated himself and unsnapped the leashes.

“They’re not too wet. Just from the snow between here and the garage,” he said apologetically as damp footprints splattered over Joey’s clean floors.

“Don’t worry about it. The floors will be a mess tomorrow anyway. Consider this the pregame,” she said.

Meatball hurtled up the stairs with Waffles on his heels. Valentina couldn’t be bothered to be interested in her new surroundings. She ambled over to the fireplace and flopped down on a floor cushion.

“I’m gonna grab their stuff. Be back in a second.”

“Do you need help?” she offered.

“If I can get those beasts in here myself I think I can handle anything.”

Meatball howled on the second floor.

Joey narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to just get in the Jeep and drive back to an empty house leaving me with this motley crew, are you?”

“The thought had occurred to me, but I’d be awfully lonely in that bed by myself,” he winked.

When he returned he was loaded down with a duffle bag, two bags of dog food, and two dog beds.

“Are you moving in?”

“Eventually. We’ll probably have to add on. I’m thinking a nice, big sunroom off the back with another bedroom and office upstairs. But we’ll talk about that later.”

“You’re insane.” Joey shook her head.

Jax dumped his haul on the floor and yanked off his boots. He set them in the tray next to the door to contain the drips. Snowflakes as big as nickels clung to his head and shoulders. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook next to Joey’s.

“It smells like heaven in here,” he said, coming into the kitchen to investigate.

He dropped a kiss on her cheek as he peered over her shoulder at the stove. “Chili? And what’s this? If you tell me that’s cheesy cornbread, I’m going to marry you.”

“Then no, it’s definitely not cheesy cornbread, it’s boiled Brussels sprouts.”

“Liar. I’m totally marrying you,” Jax turned her around and put his hands on her hips. “Hi,” he said softly, before bringing his lips to hers.

It was a soft, warm kiss. The kind that melted Joey’s insides like chocolate over a low flame. Decadent, delicious.

“Hi, yourself,” she said, when he pulled back.

“You taste like beer and beautiful,” he told her.

“What does beautiful taste like,” she asked, arching an eyebrow at the line.

“You.”

“Oh, boy. The snow brought me Mr. Smooth,” she teased.

“Do I have time for a shower before dinner?” he asked.

“Sure, help yourself,” she said, giving him a one-shoulder shrug before turning back to the stove.

“Care to join me?”

“I already had my shower. Why don’t you take a beer up there to keep you company, while I finish dinner?”

“Have I told you that I love you?”

“Get out of my kitchen,” she ordered, rolling her eyes.

Jax grinned and helped himself to a beer from the fridge. She pointed at the bottle opener on the wall before he could ask.

“I’m serious about that marriage thing,” he said, taking a swig from the bottle.

“I’m serious about the you getting out of my way thing,” she said lightly.

He pressed a quick kiss to her neck. “I guess we’ll see which one of us gets our way.”

J
ax tossed
the dog beds into Joey’s spare room and took the beer with him into the shower.

Usually only a summer ritual, the shower beer seemed appropriate enough for tonight. His body was sore from the physical demands of the day, while his mind revved from the sense of urgency he’d worked under.

He cranked the hot water and let it pelt his aching shoulders and neck. Joey’s shower was a marvel, neutral stone tile walls with jets aplenty. There was room enough for two, possibly more in the walk-in. He felt like he was standing under a tropical waterfall as the water steamed and sluiced its way down his skin.

He was never leaving. He would stand under this water until his body dissolved and flowed down the drain.

He helped himself to a swig of beer and then began to peruse Joey’s bath accessories. He’d been in bathrooms of women with thousands of dollars of bath products, shelves crammed full of bottles that claimed they would tighten, soften, soothe, or protect.

Not Joey. No, Joey’s bathroom had a bottle of two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, a loofa, and a bottle of generic body wash. He sniffed it, making sure it wasn’t some froufrou, cloying floral scent before dumping some onto the loofa.

He could deal with smelling like “cool morning cucumber.”

He stayed under the showerhead until his body forgot about the cold of the day and his beer was empty. Twisting off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the two neatly folded towels on the vanity and dried off. He strolled naked into the bedroom where he found Meatball snoring on his duffle bag.

“Sorry, bud. You’re gonna have to move your ass. I need pants for dinner.” He pushed and prodded Meatball until the beagle reluctantly got off the bag, and wandered off grumbling.

He pulled on a pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt, dug out his laptop and charger, and followed his nose back downstairs.

Joey was ladling the steamy chili into a pair of hand-thrown bowls he recognized from Purely Pottery in town. She glanced up at him and proceeded to dribble chili onto the counter.

Jax knew when a woman was interested in him. He’d seen the look in others’ eyes, but it had never been as gratifying or as punch-in-the-gut exciting as when it was Joey looking at him like she was right now.

It hit him fast and bright, how much he loved her. How much he’d always loved her. Being with her in this homey scene sharpened the keen desire he had to make
this
their everyday.

“You’re staring,” she said in her husky voice.

“Same goes.”

Her mouth curved up the slightest bit and she went back to ladling chili.