Page 42 of A Recipe Called Home

“Everything ok with her and the baby?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything is fine. She’s just ready to not be pregnant anymore,” he said with a hoarse laugh. “How come I haven’t seen you here in a while? What's going on with you and our guy over there?”

Jules twirled the bottom of the water glass in her hand on the counter.

“Well—” she started.

“Ahh, I see. Trouble in paradise,” he interrupted.

“Not exactly. We agreed to be friends while I figure some stuff out,” she continued.

“That explains why he’s been so sulky. Could barely get more than two words out of him this past week.”

Jules’ cheeks reddened. It made her uncomfortable that Jax knew this much about their relationship. He probably thought she was an awful person, her coming back into town and leading Miles on. But no one knew their full history, or why they didn’t work the first time around. Jules and Miles even had secrets from each other.

Sensing the discomfort, he asked if she was planning to stay in town for a while or if she was going back to D.C. soon.

“I might stay around for a little longer. It depends on a few things,” she said. Jules hadn’t quite figured out what those few things were, but she was working on it.

For the next hour, she ate her gourmet fish and chips, which looked like they belonged on the cover of a food magazine, and listened to Miles sing. His voice seemed far away, almost underwater and she wondered if it had anything to do with her being there. He avoided looking her way and when he did, he averted his eyes down to his guitar. It didn’t take her long to feel like an outsider again, like she wasn’t welcome here.

Luckily, she didn’t have too long to think about it before Roxy walked in and plopped down in the chair next to her. Jules couldn’t believe she was even walking at this point. Her shirt, a dark green button-down that probably belonged to Jax’s, stretched over her round belly that had almost doubled in size since the last time she saw her.

“Oh, my word. How are you feeling?” Jules asked, turning away from the stage.

“Oh, you know. Like a school bus,” Roxy said, waving at her stomach. “I can’t believe there’s only one in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if we came home with triplets. Just crossing my fingers I make it through next week.”

“Next week?” Jules asked, confused.

“The Bear Ball."

“That’s right. Sorry, I completely forgot it was coming up. Is the planning going well?”

Roxy told her she had the menu all planned out but was worried about the prep work. Her kitchen staff was flaky at best, and she needed all the help she could get in her current state.

“I have some extra time on my hands and would love to help,” Jules offered.

“If you’d be willing, I’d appreciate it so much. I’ve heard you’re a skilled cook from a few people at The Landing.” Roxy's face looked pleading and relieved at the same time.

Jules told her she’d be glad to help and to email her the details. She’d be there. For someone without an actual job, she sure was keeping busy. However, she worried how Miles would feel about her volunteering. These were his friends, after all.

Two songs and a glass of wine later, Miles finished his set and packed up. Jules knew it would be her only chance to chat with him that night, so she made her way over to the stage.

“You sounded great,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. He did sound good, just different.

“Not my best performance, but it’ll have to do,” he responded as he continued to put his gear away, not bothering to make eye contact. There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence before he added, “But thanks for coming."

Well, this was more awkward than she’d feared. Taking a deep breath and trying not to fidget like she always did when she was unsure of herself, Jules asked, “Are you upset with me?”

The question seemed to hang in the air between them for a few seconds before he turned to face her, letting out a long sigh.

“No, not exactly. It probably wasn’t the best idea for you to be here tonight, though,” he admitted, which flared up a lick of anger in Jules.

Without thinking, she shot back, “Youinvitedme, remember?”

Holding his hands up defensively, he said, “I know…I know I did. And I thought I wanted you here. I always want you. That’s the problem.” Miles’ head slumped down, shoulders rounding, heavy with an invisible weight.

Softening now at his honesty, Jules told him she understood. She felt the same way, which was part of the issue.

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