Page 65 of The Last Second Chance
Jax shook his head. “I’m sticking. This,” he circled his finger, “the brewery, the stables, the farm. They’re roots. I’m staying put whether or not you come to your senses. But if you tell me this last time to leave you alone. I will. For good.
Joey started to roll her eyes.
“Don’t.” Jax shook his head. “I’m serious, Jojo. If you don’t want to give things a go, then you’ve got to cut me loose. Either way, tonight we stop playing games.”
She watched him, calculating, and he wished he could read her thoughts. He reached for the wine and towels.
“Thanks for the help tonight,” he told her. “You saved all our asses. Your shift’s over. Leave your door unlocked if you want company tonight. If not, I’ll see you around.”
He opened the closet door and stepped out.
“I’m keeping the tips,” she called after him.
Jax felt the corners of his mouth lift.
16
Leave your door unlocked.
Her damn door was always unlocked and now she was going to have to purposely lock it to keep him out. Joey fumed as she took the shortcut through the pasture. The moon in the crisp night sky guided her home with nearly three hundred dollars in tips tucked in her pocket.
She let herself in the backdoor to the happy yips from Waffles as he wove in and out of her legs.
Joey crouched down to give his wiry fur a good ruffle. Just a few days with a dog and it seemed like she’d had him her entire life. She knew she’d never get tired of the celebration every time she came home.
“Buddy, it wasn’t even three hours,” she laughed as he danced onto his hind legs to lick her face. “Okay, how about you keep your feet on the floor and I’ll get you a t-r-e-a-t?”
Waffles trotted after her into the kitchen and happily accepted the breath-freshening cookie Joey retrieved from the jar on the counter. She wrinkled her nose. The treats tasted like mint-flavored tuna. She knew because she’d sampled one. And one had been enough. She’d ordered a large pack of homemade pet treats from Vern and Sylvia, farmer’s market regulars who had a pet stand. Organic chicken treats would undoubtedly taste better than mint tuna.
As Waffles snarfed down his treat, Joey stared pensively at the front door. She was going to lock it. She knew better than to give into temptation when it came to Jackson Pierce.
Obviously there were still sparks between them. There probably always would be. She had to admit, the flirting, the teasing, it had been fun once she realized that she had the power. She wasn’t that skinny, pie-eyed kid anymore.
He’d hurt her once. Left her feeling weak, vulnerable. But things were different. She was different. She was the kind of strong that came from learning not to depend on anyone else. Never tying her dreams and goals to someone. Hell yes, she was strong. But was she strong enough to pursue a fling with Jax? Strong enough to enjoy that heady, physical rush without going under, without losing herself?
Joey strode over to the front door. The thick mahogany kept the cold out and would just as easily keep out the man who’d once been so careless with her heart. Just one twist of the lock and things would be settled between them forever.
He’d made sure she knew it was her call. She was in control.
She stared at the deadbolt and then through the glass sidelight into the night.
Her call.
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Hours later, Jax pulled up to Joey’s house, his fingers pausing on the ignition, debating. There were a handful of lights on in the first floor windows. Was that a good sign or did she just want to be awake to witness his devastation?
What was he going to do if he climbed those steps and found the door locked? God, to spend the rest of his life seeing the girl of his dreams every day. Watching her fall in love with some other guy who hadn’t broken her heart like an asshole. They’d probably have six kids, just to rub it in. He’d take up drinking and be Drunk Uncle Jax.
If that door was locked, everything—all of it since he’d left home—would be for nothing. God, he was afraid of the no.
Why did he have to push her? Why couldn’t he have given her just a little more time? He berated himself as he trudged up the porch steps like a prisoner facing his execution.
Jax closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath.
It couldn’t be locked. He’d known that Joey Greer was his future since he was fourteen years old, probably longer. “Now or never,” he muttered.
It turned easily in his grip and he spent a few more seconds contemplating whether or not she’d just locked the deadbolt to give him a false sense of hope before crushing him like a cockroach.
