So True

by Serena Bell

  Right now, it was safe, because they were all talking about what constituted the perfect marshmallow. And, as always at a campfire, there were representatives from all camps. Levi liked his charred. Trey had infinite patience and would gently toast on all sides to a perfect, even golden tan. And Mason did that thing that Jax had never understood where he pulled off each layer as he toasted it, ate it, and re-toasted the rest.

  Eventually, Jax had to admit he hated marshmallows.

  “But if you pass me the graham crackers, I’ll be a happy man,” he said.

  They all looked at him like he was crazy. “Does Chiara know?” Levi demanded.

  He figured that meant they were making some progress towards acceptance of whatever was happening between him and Chiara.

  “Yes,” he said. “Back in high school we were at a marshmallow roast once together and I had to fess up.”

  “S’mores are one of Chiara’s favorite foods.” That, believe it or not, was Mason, whose voice was low and rough, probably from disuse. Jax could count on both hands the number of times Mason had spoken to him.

  He nodded. He did love how the Campbells did sibling protectiveness. They were worried he’d break her heart. Or keep her from her marshmallows. They covered all the bases.

  “Hand me a marshmallow,” he said.

  They all watched as he toasted it. He went with Trey’s approach. One, he felt like it was above reproach—you had to respect someone who could patiently toast like that. And two, he knew that was how Chiara liked it. He fucking remembered, like he remembered everything he’d ever known about her. How much parmesan cheese she’d put on her spaghetti with sauce. How sharp she liked her pencils. How much friction and in exactly what spot it took to make her come.

  Chiara had not pressured him to show up at the campfire. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to be there,” she said, almost shyly. And he understood what she was saying. If he didn’t want to be her boyfriend publicly, she wasn’t going to guilt him into it.

  But he did, that was the thing.

  He’d started thinking about the future, which he never let himself do. Because the last time he’d let himself imagine a future—a future with someone—was ten years ago. And look how well that had ended up.

  Not so well.

  But now he was thinking about whether Bakersfield was the only place for him. True, his business was there, and rebuilding would be a royal pain in the ass. The kind of pain in the ass you would only undertake for someone you cared deeply about. Two someones. And a place you loved.

  But Chiara wasn’t planning on staying in Tierney Bay. And if Buyathon was what she really wanted, then that was what he wanted for her, no matter how mysterious it seemed.

  So—he didn’t know. He just fucking didn’t know.

  “Hey.”

  He looked up to find her standing over him, expectantly holding out a hand and smiling.

  Levi handed him a graham cracker, pre-loaded with chocolate, and a second one for the top. Jax slid Chiara’s marshmallow between the two crackers and handed it to her.

  She looked at it like he’d hung the moon.

  He shrugged. “Your brothers reminded me how much you like them.”

  Mouth full of marshmallow, she seemed to finally take in the implications of his seating arrangement. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to abandon you to these maniacs.”

  “We’ve been behaving ourselves,” Levi said with a shrug. “We haven’t hazed him yet.”

  “You haven’t hazed me yet,” Trey pointed out.

  “There’s always time,” Levi said darkly.

  “Want to take a walk?” Chiara asked.

  “Sure,” he said, getting to his feet.

  Levi pointed two fingers at his own eyes and then at Jax.

  “I’m watching you, Wazowski, always watching,” Jax intoned, in his best Roz voice, which—he’d been told—was pretty damn good.

  Levi cracked up, then sighed. “All right, Walker. Here’s the deal. We need a fourth for two-on-two hoops tomorrow because my friend James is out of town. So. If you subject yourself to that, I’ll quit giving you a hard time.”

  Jax hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he remembered that, too. Shooting hoops with Rich and, often, Mason. And once, when Levi had been home from school on break, him, too. He remembered the affection among the males of the Campbell family and how for that one afternoon, he’d been folded into it, seamlessly.

  Still, it hadn’t counted in the end.

  But he couldn’t hold Rich Campbell’s actions against his sons.

  Jax nodded. “It’s a deal,” he said.

  He took Chiara’s hand, and they wandered down onto the beach. The tide was low, and dark was just falling, the sunset still shades of deep pink, purple, and orange low on the horizon. They moved out of the circle of the firelight until they were alone in the dark.

  And then everything stood still, and it was just them, like it had always been.

  “Hey,” he said to her, squeezing her hand as they wandered down the beach. The ocean was a soft roar beside them, but that didn’t change the stillness.

  “Hey,” she said, and squeezed back.

  38

  “We’re gonna do this,” Chiara said to Jax as they lay in her bed. It was Thursday night, the night before Labor Day weekend. “We’re gonna save the store.”

  “Hell, yeah,” he said. “And we’re not just saying that because we’re both steeped in happy sex hormones.” He stroked her hair, his breath moving the strands and sending thrills to every nerve ending.

  She laughed. “Seriously. I’m feeling really optimistic right now.”

  “Me, too,” he said quietly.

  She and Jax and Evan had done everything in their collective power to make the shop ready for Labor Day weekend. And it was ready. Jax’s gorgeous signs would draw kids from Main Street to Park Street. Her own demo tables and fun in-store experiences would guarantee they stayed long enough for Evan to sweet talk them into buying. Food and drink would bring people across the street from the park. And on top of that, she’d handed out a second scavenger hunt to every shop in town—one that ended up with another set of prizes at Meeples.

  For the first time, she felt confident they’d win this battle for Evan.

  She’d been thinking about his other battle, too. He’d been healthy since coming home from the hospital, but she hadn’t forgotten what Jax had said. She’d read up on the procedure Jax had mentioned, and even found a few minutes to talk to Evan about it.

  More and more, she wanted to help, and her last round of research had given her an idea of how she could. She had a few more things she wanted to look into, and then she’d bring up what she’d learned with Jax.

  Getting the shop ready had taken a lot of energy. She hadn’t gotten much sleep—between working on the shop, staying on top of her own work, and making love to Jax—but it had been one of the best weeks of her life.

  She saw what Jax meant when he said that working on the shop was like the experience of drawing the Adventures together. They fed each other—every idea she had excited him and drew more out of him.

  Like the two of them in bed.

  But it was all coming to an end.

  Earlier that day, Chiara had fielded her third interview with Buyathon. She did her damnedest to wow the last two interviewers, and she thought she’d succeeded. But her heart wasn’t in it. Because she wasn’t sure it was what she wanted.

  More and more she was asking herself if Jax’s needling was true. Maybe she didn’t want to do other people’s math homework anymore. Maybe she wanted to do exactly what she was doing now. Making small businesses more successful. Not necessarily only by ironing out their books. But also by being creative about how to fix what wasn’t working.

  She could stay in Tierney Bay and do that.

  But … did she want to stay in Tierney Bay given that Jax was probably—almost certainly—leaving?

  She wasn’t sure.
>
  And, there was a voice in the back of her head, long familiar. Her father’s. He wasn’t having any of her doubts.

  Make a plan and stick to it. That’s the best way not to get derailed by your own fear and hesitation.

  It was natural to get cold feet when you were committing yourself to something new. It happened even when people were marrying people they loved. Moving to Seattle and taking a high-level corporate job was a big decision. It was natural she should have some second thoughts.

  She needed to stick to the plan.

  Yet, for better or for worse, the question she was about to ask Jax was not a stick-to-the-plan question. It was the exact opposite.

  She pulled away so she could see his face. “Do you think—?”

  He was waiting patiently, watching her, and she could see the affection in his eyes.

  “Is there any chance—?”

  “Spit it out, Campbell.”

  “You didn’t take me to prom,” she blurted out.

  She saw his eyes widen, but that was the only sign that she might have surprised him. “I didn’t,” he agreed.

  “I want a do-over.”

  A smile edged up the corners of his mouth. “Do you.”

  “Our ten-year reunion is September 14.”

  Now he was grinning. “You think I owe you a dinner dance, huh?”

  “You kind of do.”

  “I kind of do.” He took a deep breath. “Actually. I called my apprentice today and gave him the go-ahead to start the project without me. He was just about ready to supervise a project anyway. He’ll do great. So that gives me a breather. I could extend my stay through September 14.” He tilted his head a little. “But are you sure you’ll still be here then?”

  “I told them I’d start September 17,” she said.

  She’d shocked him; his face froze. For a second she thought she’d hurt him—but then his features straightened out, and she realized he was confused because she’d implied she already had the job. “I mean,” she amended, “I don’t have the job yet. But I said I could start September 17. You know. If they offer it to me. And if I, you know, take it.”

  Her heart had stopped. It was waiting—waiting for him to say something about her not leaving Tierney Bay. About not taking the job.

  He blinked, then smiled. “You’re going to get it. Of course you are.”

  “Well. We’ll see.”

  “You’re totally going to get it. How could they resist you? I can’t.”

  He reached a hand out, slid it behind her head, and tugged her toward him. “I can’t resist you at all,” he murmured, and lowered his mouth onto hers.

  39

  He kissed her to make her stop talking and also so he wouldn’t say what was on the tip of his tongue. Don’t take it! Don’t go!

  Rich had said to Jax: She’ll go to college and she’ll meet amazing people. And she’ll do amazing things. She’ll have the opportunity to become anyone she wants to be. But I know her, too. She loves hard, and she’ll try to hold back part of herself so she can stay the person you’re in love with now.

  I don’t want that for her, and I don’t think you do, either.

  He’d shaken his head. No. And he’d meant it.

  Ever since he and Chiara had gotten back together, he’d felt like he was flying—in the best and worst possible ways. All the elation. All the terror.

  This was what he imagined skydiving would be like. So much exhilaration, edged with fear. He couldn’t stop, and he didn’t want to, even though they were only one small mistake—one long-held secret—away from crashing.

  He kissed her now and felt it. The soaring. The falling. The blood surging in his veins—a few choice ones in particular. And the chaos in his brain. The way his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.

  Her lips were so soft. Her tongue was quick, silky, pure pleasure against his. When she was especially turned on, as she was now, she bit. Not hard. Little nips. And her hands clenched and unclenched—in his hair, on his shoulders, on his ass. She never stopped moving. It made him insane with lust. It made him want to pin her down and hold her still and fuck her into the bed. Mine. Stay there. Don’t go.

  He wedged a thigh between hers, and she squeezed her legs tight around it. Bit him again. He groaned and kissed her longer. Harder. He showed her, with his tongue, what he was going to do to her, and underneath him, she went soft and yielding. Holy fuck, that was hot. He reached down and tucked a hand under the elastic waistband of her pajamas. Into the insubstantial lace of her panties. Found her slick and hot. He teased a fingertip around the swollen nub of her clit, sweetly taunting her with questions as he did: “Like that? Just like that? What do you want, pretty girl? What do you want me to do to you?”

  “Let me—”

  “What—?”

  “Let me suck you.”

  That was not what he’d expected to come out of her mouth. But he wasn’t complaining. He rolled over and she tugged his boxer briefs off, slid down his body, and took him in her mouth. It was the first time she’d done it since high school, and when she’d done it back then, it had always been way too quick and furtive, stolen moments in his truck or on the beach. Half the time she’d finished him in her fist; the other half, he’d done it himself after he’d taken her home, in the dark and quiet of his bedroom, thinking about a someday when they’d have a house together and they could do—

  This.

  She had taken him deep, so deep he could feel the back of her throat, and she’d wrapped her hand around the base of his cock so he was completely surrounded by pressure and heat. Her hair was everywhere. He collected it into an impromptu ponytail, which he held in one hand. He promised himself he would not pull it. Only assholes pulled women’s hair while they were giving them blowjobs.

  And holy shit what was she doing with her tongue? She had not done that, or that, or—

  She was going to make him come. No one made him come with a blow job; he’d thought he just wasn’t wired that way. But she was going to.

  “Kee,” he whispered.

  She bobbed off him, her lips slick, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright. He wanted to kiss her so fucking bad, he could taste it.

  “I want to come inside you. I want to kiss you while I’m fucking you. I want to hold you while I come.”

  Jesus. By nature he wasn’t a talker, but she pulled it out of him. He rolled towards the nightstand, grabbed a condom, and sheathed himself.

  She held her arms and legs open, that welcome of hers, and he went into them and slid deep, deep and so fucking easy. Just the right amount of resistance, slick but slightly sticky, tugging over the head where she’d teased him right to the edge a minute ago. She was gasping and pulling on him, wanting him to ride harder over her pubic bone, he knew what would get her off, so he did it, just the way she was asking, ignoring the pressure building in his body, listening to her body tell him how to make her come.

  It was a long slow build; she was panting and arching and clenching her muscles tight to hold onto the sensation, but he didn’t give up, he just held the rhythm, watching her pupils blow wide, watching the flush flow over her face like a wash of pink, watching her mouth open with surprise and pleasure. She was still coming when she reached for his head and pulled him down, kissing him, licking his mouth, yanking the orgasm out of him by its root. And it wasn’t just the sheer physical pleasure of it, it was feeling so goddamn plugged into her, so he couldn’t tell where her mouth started and his ended, who was inside whom.

  It was like flying, and falling.

  The problem with skydiving was, once you were in free fall, it was too late to turn back.

  40

  The shop opened at nine on Friday morning, the start of Labor Day weekend, and at ten forty-five, she, Jax, and Evan stood behind the counter, looking at one another with dread in their hearts.

  No one had come in.

  Of course it was still early, and of course it was only Friday, and of course i
t took some time for word to spread and things to build, but still.

  “It’s okay,” Evan said. “I mean, whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”

  She smiled at that. No doubt, it was true for him. Whatever happened, even if he had to close the shop, Jax cared about him and would support him. If you had Jax in your corner, really in your corner, nothing bad would ever happen to you. He just wouldn’t let it. He’d do everything in his power to make it okay. And Evan had grown up with that knowledge as part of his worldview. It was pretty impressive that he had managed not to lose his faith, with his barely-there parents, his run-ins with Stan, and his health challenges. But here he was, proof of his own resilience—and Jax’s love.

  She’d grown up believing her parents would always protect her. But then she’d had a look at real life. People disappointed you. They left when you’d thought they were in it for the long haul. They ghosted you when you thought you mattered. You’d thought you had them in your corner, but it turned out you were wrong.

  Or they died. That happened, too.

  Just like Auburn had said in the Bay Boutique dressing room.

  The new bells that she’d installed over the door rang their charming little chime, and two elementary-age children bounced through the door, parents in tow.

  “We did it!” the younger of the two announced. “We found all the clues! Is there a prize?”

  “There is,” she said. She came out from behind the counter with her treasure chest in her arms. “You can pick one thing out of here.”

  She’d remembered the dentist’s office and how much she’d loved that moment when the toy chest was opened and she was told she could pick one. Even though she’d known, from age eight or so on, that the toys would always prove to be a total disappointment. It wasn’t the toys. It was the choice.

  The kids were just as delighted as she’d thought they’d be.

  She could tell the parents were antsy, though. They looked like people with plans.

  “I have an in-shop scavenger hunt,” she offered, quietly, to them. She didn’t want to sandbag them. Parents got super hostile when you did that; she knew that from working restaurant jobs in college. You’d get more dessert orders from asking the parents quietly than from announcing dessert out loud to the kids and forcing the parents’ hands.