Page 32 of Purgatory
He told me the story of his girlfriend and how she died just before the guys got here earlier this year. The revelation, however normal it may be for the circumstances, was still heartbreaking. It’s obvious it still affects him. Of course, it would. Any normal human being would be affected by an event like that. What I don’t understand is his hot and cold behavior towards me, specifically, regarding it. Why does he seem so inclined to kiss me one second and then feels the need to pull himself away as if he’s doing something wrong. Does he think he’s betraying her? Thinking on it now, I could understand if that was the case.
I’ve been here a little over one week and things have quieted down since I first arrived. Neither Hawk, nor Jax have attempted to pursue anything more with me, physically. But that doesn’t mean the flirting has diminished.
Hawk has continued to be my wakeup call. Making me giggle and laugh every morning with his nonsensical antics. I really don’t understand how he comes up with some of the stuff he says and does but it’s a great way to start the day. Sometimes, I think he just likes to see me smile.
In the evenings, Cole has taken it upon himself to personally bring me little bouquets of wild flowers. Ok, he never actually gives them to me himself, but I do find them in my room with little notes. The last one simply stated,“A little attempt to brighten your day, even if they’re not as radiant as you... Cole.”The man certainly has a way with words if the butterflies in my stomach have anything to say about it.
Even Jax has become welcoming, despite the barricadehe’s erected around himself. On the days when I’m with him, he’s taught me a ton about homesteading, survival, preparation. The man has so much knowledge it’s overwhelming at times but the strain that was originally there between us has slowly but surely waned. It’s been nice, even if he’s seemed to be on autopilot, teaching me in a manner befitting more of an instructor than a friend, but it’s better than the mean beasty I've encountered previously so I’ll take it.
I just finished cleaning out the chicken coops and gathering eggs when I enter the kitchen from the patio. I place the basket full of goodies on the counter and turn to get the canister they keep the eggs in. I tell you what, you learn something new every day. Like, if you don’t wash your farm fresh eggs you don’t need to refrigerate them. Yea. Who knew? Not this city girl that’s for sure.
Jax comes in from the patio door a few minutes later carrying a giant squash in one hand and a basket of various other veggies in the other. He places them on the counter and looks at me.
“How’d the chickens do today?”
“Great. Filled the basket. The little bitties are working overtime out there.”
He laughs at that which catches me off guard. Jax doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even chuckle around me really. With the guys, sure, but not with me. Thankfully, the day after we had our marshmallow feast, his vocabulary skills evolved from grunts and narrowed eyes to simple conversation. Nothing extensive, but at least he’s talking to me without hostility.
“Well, in that case, how about some pasta? Wanna help me make it?”
Ok, what’s going on? Jax never asks me to help in the kitchen. He acts as if I’ll burn the house down if I get within an arms distance of the stove. Granted, I did manage to burnthe bottom of a pan when I was daydreaming the other day…about their freaking half-naked bodies that were lounging in the kitchen right in front of me, tempting me while I was just trying to boil some eggs, but that’s beside the point.
It’s been months since I’ve needed to use a stove, so sue me for getting side tracked on the thought of licking all of you...
He comes up next to me with some flour, olive oil, the eggs and two bowls and sets them down beside me on the counter. I realize I haven’t responded to his question and opted to give my populardeer in the headlightslook when it comes to him, as he looks over to me again.
“Have you ever made homemade pasta before?”
I shake my head. “Nope, can definitely say I've never made pasta from scratch before. Out of a box, yes. With my hands, no.”
“Well, let’s fix that, shall we?” He looks to me and smiles slightly. We turn, wash our hands and get back into place. He takes the bowls and places them in front of each of us on the counter. One in front of him, one in front of me. He, then, puts a few cups of flour in each as well as some eggs.
“Now take a fork and start to mix the eggs into the flour. Once they start to come together, go ahead and use your hands to mix it more.”
I do as he says and as predicted the mixture forms a slightly sticky dough ball. “Great, that looks just how it should” he praises. “Now take it out of the bowl and kneed it on the counter.” I do as he instructs, taking the dough ball in my hands and flopping it onto the counter with a heavythud. After a few seconds of minor second guessing, I decide to just get on with it, pawing at it like a kitten would do when it purrs. Pushing here and there and then flipping it onto itself when it looks too much like a pizza.
“What are you doing?” He asks after a few minutes.
“Uh, kneading the dough like you said.”Duh…What’s it look like I’m doing?
“Come on, you can do better than that. Look at these muscles. Put some oomph into it.” He says playfully as he squeezes my nonexistent little baby muscles. “Look. Like this.” I turn fully toward where he’s working and watch him push and pull the dough like an angry lion. So much more aggressive than my weak little kitten kneading.
I scoff at him. “Well, excuse me for not having the entire gun show in attendance at pasta prep school.”
That makes him laugh again. The sound from him is so completely foreign to me that I can’t help but be on guard, but the relaxed version of our relationship, if that’s what you want to call it, is refreshing. I like the laid-back version of Jax. Broody, intense Jax is sexy as hell but playful Jax is giving me the feels. I hope he doesn’t stop like he has the last few times.
“Gun show, huh? Well, I guess, you can’t show up to a gun show without some ammunition, right?” He says with a smirk. Ok, super corny and cute but what the hell is he talking about? I really hope he’s not going to flex and kiss his biceps because that would just be too much. I’m about to ask what he was talking about when his arm comes flying across me reaching for the flour. He takes a handful and flicks it towards me, creating a cloud around us with the white dust landing on my shirt and across my nose. My shocked face is enough proof that I was not ready at all for playful Jax and he’s taking full advantage of it.
“Oh, really. That’s how it's gonna be?” I reply. Malicious vengeance coating my words as I smile back and attempt a stealthy, yet not stealthy, grab for the flour to retaliate. My flour dust bomb hits its mark and makes his inky black hair and stubbly beard look like a powdered donut. The equally gobsmacked face I’m rewarded with is worth the extensive chase scene that erupts afterwards. Around and around the kitchen island and out past the patio, Jax chases my unathletic ass until I’m covered head to toe with flour and sweat. We’re both a panting mess when we’re finally done tormenting each other. Well, I’m a panting mess, he barely even looks winded. So unfair.
“At least Cole can’t say he’s the only one that sends youflowersanymore” Jax jests, sticking his tongue out while I'm still gasping for breath. “I just gave you a bunch of my favoriteflour...that’s right...semolina.”
Puns... we’re making puns now. Ok. I see how it is. But I can’t be too annoyed by it because I haven’t seen a smile that large on his face, like, ever. I don’t even know if I’ve ever seen him smile before today. The thought makes proud little butterflies take residence in my belly.
I did that.
And I like that I was able to.
