“Well, I can be mad at you for pointing out the truth I was trying to avoid.”
“Nope.” Maggie shook her head, her smile growing with each of Jill’s squirms. “That’s my job as said best friend. To call you on your crap.”
“Well, consider it called.” Jill walked to the corner of the courtyard when she recognized one of Mae’s faithful minions, Mrs. Gregory, leaning closer. “So, what do I do from here?”
“You reach out with an olive branch when he gets back from wherever he’s going every day.”
“Or in Jax’s case, a six-pack of IPA and a steak?”
The giggle and hiccup that escaped Maggie was on brand.
“Exactly. See? You know him pretty well. Now, come home and put on The Princess Bride and rub my feet since that’s your job as my best friend.”
“As you wish.”
Once Jill had put away work, gone home, and helped Maggie get up to bed, she was left with her thoughts. And they weren’t good.
On one hand, Jax was kind, funny, and attentive. On the other, he was a flight risk. And that was one area the two were as different as wine and water.
She yawned. A glance at the home screen told her it was past ten, and in ranching life, that was practically midnight. Which meant it was almost time for Jax’s secret sojourn. She hopped up to turn off the lights.
Her phone chimed.
Jax’s name caused her pulse to kick up a notch. He’d reached out. Maybe this was his way of saying he was done hiding in the shadows and was coming back to work.
And maybe, just maybe, coming back to me?
She swiped into the message, her greedy fingers tingling.
“Hey. Left you something on the porch. Hope this doesn’t wake you, but I saw a light on.”
Jill shot up off the couch and tore open the front door.
At her feet was a wicker basket wrapped in cellophane. What looked like a plush pillow, a bag of dog food, and a bag of puppy treats, topped the massive pile of items in the basket.
A canine pregnancy gift basket.
She turned on the porch light and saw a shadowed figure halfway down the drive.
“Jax!” she hissed. But the figure didn’t stop, so she ran after him, breathless by the time she got there. “Jax, stop. Please,” she whispered.
He turned around. The moonlight cast his features into relief, chiseling them more than they already were.
“Oh, hey. Did I wake you? Sorry, I just got … back,” he hedged. “And I wanted you to have this before tomorrow since it looks like it won’t be long till she pops.”
She winced at the word pop but recovered with a smile.
“Thanks. It’s nice.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just puppy support. Since we’re half responsible, you know.”
Such a sweet, simple gesture. Suddenly, she was in front of Jax, her palms pressed against his chest, her chin tilted up to meet his gaze.
She was powerless to stop herself. It was so good to have him back at all.
Her lips met his, but where there’d been desire and curiosity and passion in their last kiss, now she was met with only firm hands on her shoulders, pushing her back.
“I can’t.”