Page 33 of No More Secrets
Wow. Those Pierce genes were experts in crafting perfection.
“Find what you need?” Jax asked, oblivious to her gawking.
“I think so.”
“You might want to consider a couple of three dollar t-shirts,” he said, tossing her a cherry red V-neck.
Back into the fitting room she went. She heard Jax’s phone ring next door.
“What’s up?”
“Yeah, she’s with me.”
“What are we doing? We’re getting naked.”
Summer heard his quick laugh. “Relax.We’re enhancing our farm wardrobes at McCafferty’s.”
Jax was quiet for a minute. “How about we bring home dinner? Will that make you less of a dick? You call it in. We’ll pick it up.”
Okay. Later.” He hung up. “I’m breaking a brotherly code here, but Carter was not happy about the idea of you getting naked with me,” he called over the tarp.
Summer was glad he couldn’t see the blush creep across her face. “He’s probably protective of all his houseguests.”
Jax laughed. “You keep telling yourself that, Summer.”
By the time they left, Summer had amassed a collection of pants, shorts, t-shirts, and a baseball hat all for less than the pair of destroyed jeans. Flushed with success, she gleefully tossed the haul in the trunk of her car.
“Wow, you can’t buy a t-shirt for thirty dollars let alone three in Manhattan.”
“L.A., too. Those underwear Clem satanically destroyed cost me seventy-five.” He threw his bag in the trunk and closed the lid. “What else do you want to see while we’re here?”
Summer looked down the street. “What’s OJ by Julia?” she asked, spotting a colorful chalkboard sign in front of a neon green shop a few buildings down.
“Organic juice shop. Ever have a wheatgrass shot with an apple ginger juice chaser?” Jax asked.
“Can’t say that I have,” Summer laughed.
“Well, let’s give it a whirl.”
OJ by Julia was just as colorful on the inside as the out. Deep purple cushioned benches slid up against lime green wainscoting and flanked black tables. Stainless steel industrial lighting fixtures highlighted coolers of mason jars filled with colorful juices. There was a bar with high-backed stools and the menu was written in a charming script on blackboard in neon chalk.
A lavender head popped up from behind the counter.
“Well, well, well. Jackson Pierce. Of all the juice joints in all the world, you had to walk into mine.”
“Julia,” Jax grinned. “Look at you all entrepreneurial.”
She scooted out from behind the counter, leading with a very pregnant belly. “And pregnant as all hell,” she said, hugging him as best she could.
“You were pregnant at Dad’s funeral, weren’t you? This still the same one?” Jax teased.
“That was my first. We’re on our third now.”
“Holy shit, Jules.”
“I know, I know. But Rob and I wanted to get them all out of the way before we’re too old to play or tackle them when they’re awful.” She tossed her light purple curls out of her face. “Now what can I do for you two?”
“My friend Summer here has never had wheatgrass.” Jax said pulling out one of the stools for her.
