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Chapter Two

Despite the fantasticbefore-sleep sex, a full six hours of rest, and the general pleasantness of his usual morning routine with Patrick, Will walks into Brown Gargle with a headache growing behind his eyes.

His usually comfortable button-up blue shirt feels itchy, and his new leather loafers are a pinch too tight. His chest is tight too.

Despite plenty of interactions over the last few years, Will knows his mom has never really grown accustomed to Patrick’s gruff side. And, despite explaining to her that Patrick is on the autism spectrum and doesn’t always understand the nuances of social interactions, she doesn’t seem to get it. Always declaring that ‘excuses like that’ only go so far.

Never mind that his mom’s own behavior leaves a lot to be desired socially, in Will’s opinion. But she’ll never see herself the way he does, and Will can’t begin to explain it to her without another relationship tsunami rising between them. So he just has to grin and bear it. Again.

He smooths his hands through his hair and takes a calming breath.

Whatever she has to say to him, it’ll be fine. Patrick will be waiting for him this evening at home and, no matter what level of crazy his mother brings, they will befine.

He just wishes his headache agreed with him.

Will checks his monitor and gets a good BG reading. So it’s probably not a glucose spike and his pump is most likely working fine. It’s just stress and that won’t end until he’s out of his mother’s clutches for the day.

Jax Taken Alive is behind the counter looking a bit tired and grim. His dark hair is growing out in a hip, rock-star-esque shag these days, but there’s a tension to his expression that isn’t usually there. The morning doesn’t seem to be agreeing with him either. That or he and Jenny are arguing again.

“Hey, man,” Will says, pulling out his wallet to pay for the Buckaroo-sized coffee that Jax is already pouring. “Can I get a jelly donut too?”

“Sure. Patrick coming or are you alone?” Jax asks, indicating the cups he uses to make Patrick’s usual Calamalatte Jane.

“Just me.” Will smiles and stuffs a five in the tip jar. “You okay? You look—” he waves a hand over his own face and says nothing.

“The usual.” Jax shrugs, getting the jelly donut from the display case and shoving it into a small takeout bag without asking Will if he’s staying or going. “She’ll either get over the age difference or she won’t.”

“Yeah,” Will agrees, taking the bag and the to-go cup without protest. “It’s not like you can do anything about it.”

And it’s been overtwo years. Will doesn’t understand why Jenny won’t just move on from either the problem or from Jax. One way or the other, she needs to choose. It’s cruel to keep torturing Jax this way.

Jax leans forward. “I’m aiming to do something about it.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“I haven’t told many people, so keep this to yourself, but I’m working out a deal with Old Man Hart to buy him out of this place.”

“Wow, so he’s looking to leave the business?”

“He wants to retire to Cali to be near his grandkids. But I want to convince Jenny to marry me. Buying him out seems like a good first step toward showing her I’m not a kid.”

“You’re older than me. What makes her think you’re a kid?”

Jax raises a dark brow. “You run a massive charitable foundation. I’m a barista.”

“You aren’t just a barista. You manage this place. Old Man Hart’s never here. You keep it going.”

He shrugs. “In Jenny’s eyes, I’m still the kid barista she somehow fell into screwing and can’t seem to stop. She won’t even tell me she loves me.”

“What?” That seems absurd. Jenny was instrumental in getting Patrick to accept and declare his feelings for Will, and she’d wanted to beat up Will when he’d failed to declare his own in a way that prevented Patrick’s heart from being temporarily broken.

Now it turns out she’s a withholding jerk about her own heart? Will wonders what Patrick has to say aboutthat.

Jax shrugs. “Baggage. From Tom.”

“The only thing Tom was good for was making Dylan,” Will says, sipping his coffee, and glancing around to see if his mom is already somewhere in the shop waiting impatiently to needle him with guilt. “Jenny’s better off without that guy in every other way. It’s good that he left.”

Jax’s dark eyebrows draw lower. “He’s been calling her again.”