Page 89 of The Last Second Chance
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 makethistheir 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.
Drawn to her—and the kitchen scents—Jax followed his heart and stomach into the kitchen so he could crowd her.
She topped each bowl with a dollop of sour cream and cut thick slices of cornbread to float on top.
“Drinks?”
Joey nodded toward the fridge. “How does dinner on the couch sound?”
“Almost as good as what we did on the couch the other night,” he quipped, holding up two beers. “Did the dogs eat?”
“I fed them all while you were in the shower. That’s some detailed list of instructions Summer left.”
Jax laughed. His brother and sister-in-law had left a long, step-by-step thesis detailing the dogs’ daily routines and medications and the timing thereof. “Yeah, we have to give Meatball his thyroid meds tonight.”
“Already done. I think he’ll eat anything that’s wrapped in cheese,” Joey said, leading the way into the living room.
He followed her to the couch where he stepped in to coax Valentina off of it so he and Joey could claim it for their dining pleasure.
Valentina looked devastated for half a second before climbing onto an armchair and attempting to curl up on the seat.
Jax and Joey settled side-by-side on the leather couch, both propping their bare feet on the coffee table.
“She does realize she’s one hundred and twenty pounds of hugeness, right?” Joey asked, eyeing the dog.
“She’s a delicate one hundred and twenty pound Great Dane flower,” Jax said. All coherent thoughts immediately left his brain with the first bite of chili. “Sweet Jesus, woman. This is the best chili I’ve ever had in my life.”
Joey laughed and blew on her spoon. “I’m surprised you didn’t scald the taste buds off your tongue. Didn’t your mother teach you not to inhale hot food?”
“Caution must be thrown to the wind when something that tastes like this is in front of me.”
“I feel you reaching for a euphemism here,” Joey told him.
“You know me well.”
Joey frowned over her bowl. “Actually, no I don’t.”
“Jojo, you’ve known me since kindergarten.”
