“Keep her out of it. I actually still like your wife. Jury’s out about you, though.”
Bennett punched him on the arm playfully. Jax wasn’t in a joking mood, though, which was rare.
“Fine. But am I wrong? It doesn’t have to be with Jill, but you should hang out with people other than us.”
“Listen, if having me around all the time is too much, I’ll back off. You don’t need to feel sorry for me—I actually like being alone.”
And he would be, soon enough.
“No. We like having you. But having friends isn’t a federal offense, Jax.”
“Speak for yourself, jerk,” Jax mumbled. Bennett’s friends didn’t call back night after night asking if he wanted a repeat of their friendship.
“I’m gonna ignore that. Just do me a favor and be nice to Jill at dinner and maybe a little longer while she’s in town. Then you can go back to being your grumpy single self.”
He wasn’t grumpy, not until this brotherly talk, anyway.
It’s just … why, of all the people he had to have dinner with, did it have to be Jill? He plain ol’ didn’t like the woman, no matter who her parents were or how much she meant to his sister-in-law. It wasn’t that she was polished where he was rough or that she spoke down to him every time they’d brushed past each other at Bennett and Maggie’s wedding. Hell, it wasn’t even that she drank white wine with ice for cryin’ out loud. It was that, with her fiery red hair and sea-green eyes, she reminded Jax way too much of she-who-wouldn’t-be-named.
Hell, no matter how hard he’d tried to ignore Jill after they met at the wedding, pervasive thoughts of her kept waking up stuff in his heart he’d rather stay sleeping.
Like the way she spoke, like everyone should shut up and listen. Or the way she flipped her thick, wavy hair out of her face when she was thinking. But her smile was the worst offender by far. Worse than Nora’s by a long shot. It turned up in the corner like Jill held a secret no one else was privy to.
It didn’t help that she’d filled out the pale jade dress with curves that kept him up every night since.
Dammit. When she’d gone back to San Antonio, he’d really been hoping to avoid her for, well, eternity.
What he needed more than dinner, or a good trail ride, was a proper roll in the hay to forget the way Jill put a hand on her hip when she yelled at him with perfect pouty red lips.
He raked a hand down his stubbled jaw, groaning as sand caught in his facial hair got in the small cut along his palm. Stupid calves and their stupid ability to skirt beyond razor wire fences.
Well, if he was gonna put up with someone who rubbed him all the wrong ways, he was also gonna make Bennett pay for it. The steak Gander had just robbed him of was nothing compared to the filet Jax was gonna order.
“I’m not grumpy, I’m just…”
A fly landed on his shoulder, and he swatted it away. He wouldn’t miss those come winter. As the strong sun lowered, he squinted. That, he would miss.
He let the rest of the sentence evaporate into the warm, Texas air.
But I’m not gonna like it.
“Great.” Bennett slapped him on the shoulder. “Maggie was right. You can be reasonable when it suits you.”
Jax’s laugh reverberated against the walls of the barn.
None of this suited him.
“What’s so funny?” Bennett asked.
“Oh, I’m not laughing ’cause any of this is funny. It’s freaking tragic.”
And the definition of irony. Because his date with Jill was a string of flagrant reminders of why he avoided relationships to begin with.
“Well, get over it. Go have a beer and trail ride and be ready to go tomorrow night.”
Jax hated that his brother had his number. Bennett started heading out of the barn toward the main ranch house. At the door, he turned back around. “Thanks, Jax. This means a lot. I know damn good and well I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Tell him. Tell him now before it’s too late.