“I’m good,” he said, shaking his head.
“How late are you working tonight?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at him.
He couldn’t help but grin at her attempt to intimidate him.
There was no doubt about the fact that Grace King was tough. She’d had to grow a thick skin over the years. Even though Jax, along with Brendan and Shep, had done everything in his power to try and protect her, he couldn’t be there to shield her from everything. So Grace had done everything to even up the score with whoever tried to put her down. She wasn’t a shy little thing by any means, and she’d tell anybody what was up without a moment of hesitation.
“Until eight,” he said.
“Twelve hours?” she asked, exasperated. “I’m getting you a sandwich,” she said, turning on her heal and heading behind the counter.
“Grace, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” she said, looking over her shoulder as she opened the display case. “But I’m going to anyways.”
Jax watched as Grace filled a bag with two sandwiches, a bag of chips, a cup of fruit salad, and his favorite, a butterscotch cookie.
“This should last you till dinner.”
Jax just shook his head at her as he pulled his wallet out to pay for everything.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Grace said, shaking her head. “You are not paying.”
Before Jax could respond, the bell above the door rang, signaling that someone else was in the café. He turned to see Lula Mae walk in the front door.
To the casual observer, Grace and Brendan’s grandmother wouldn’t strike a person as someone to be feared. She had a kind face and bright blue eyes that when paired with her ample stature and friendly disposition inspired a feeling of warmth and openness. But Lula Mae was fiercely loyal, and those blue eyes could go as cold as ice when someone hurt anyone who she loved. Lula Mae had declared Jax as one of hers over twenty-five years ago, and she’d marched down to his parents’ house more than once to give them a piece of her mind.
Jax had spent more nights sleeping at the King’s house than he could count. It was one of the few places he’d actually felt safe growing up. And even now, whenever he saw her or her husband, Oliver, he had that overwhelming feeling of being protected.
“Jaxson Lance Anderson,” Lula Mae said, walking up to him, “what in the world is your wallet doing out? Your money is no good here.”
“That’s what I just told him.”
Jax turned back to Grace, who was wearing a self-satisfied smile.
“Your granddaughter just gave me over thirty dollars’ worth of food,” he said, indicating the stuffed bag on the counter before he turned back to Lula Mae.
“I don’t care,” she said, shaking her head. “Now give me some sugar before you go and keep the people of Mirabelle safe.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jax said, leaning down and giving Lula Mae a peck on the check.
“And the next time I see that wallet of yours make an appearance in this establishment, you are going to get a smack upside that head of yours. You understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jax repeated.
“Good boy,” she said and nodded, patting his cheek.
“Thanks again,” he said, reaching for the bag of food and his coffee. “I’ll see you two later.”
“Bye, sugar,” Lula Mae said as she rounded the counter and headed for the kitchen.
“See you later,” Grace said, giving him another of her face-splitting grins.
Jax headed for the door, unable to stop his own smile from spreading across his face.
Grace stared at Jax’s retreating form as he walked out of the café, and she appreciated every inch of it. He had a lean muscular body. His shoulders filled out the top of his forest-green deputy’s shirt and his strong back tapered down to his waist. His shirt was tucked into his green pants that hung low from his narrow hips and covered his long toned legs.
And oh dear God, did Jaxson Anderson have a nice ass.
Though her appreciation of said ass had only been going on for about ten years, the appreciation of Jaxson Anderson had been discovered a long time ago. He was the boy who saved her from bullies on the playground. The boy who gave her his ice cream cone when hers fell in the dirt. The boy who picked her up off of the ground when she skated into a tree. The boy who let her cry on his shoulder after her mom had died.
Yes, Brendan and Shep had done all of those things as well, but Jax was different. Jax was hers. She’d decided that eighteen years ago. She’d just been waiting for him to figure it out.
But the man was ridiculously slow on the uptake.
Grace had been in love with him since she was six years old. She loved his freckles and his reddish-brown hair. His hair was always long enough to where someone could run their fingers through it and rumple it just a little. Not that she’d ever rumpled Jax’s hair, but a girl always had her fantasies, and getting Jax all tousled was most definitely one of Grace’s.
Jax was always so in control and self-contained, and so damn serious. More often than not, that boy had a frown on his face, which was probably why every time Grace saw his dimpled smile it made her go all warm and giddy.
God, she loved his smile. She just wanted to kiss it, run her lips down from his mouth, and trace his smooth, triangular jaw with her tongue.
Grace sighed wistfully as the door shut behind him and she turned to join her grandmother in the kitchen.
“You get your young man all fed and caffeinated?” Lula Mae asked as she pulled containers out of the refrigerator.
“I don’t know about ‘my young man’ but I did get Jax something to soak up that coffee he came in for.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Lula Mae said, looking over her shoulder and shaking her head pityingly. “That boy did not come in here for coffee.”
“Hmmm, well, he sure didn’t ask for anything else,” Grace said as she walked over to the stove and started plating the rest of her muffins.
“Just give it time.”
“Time?” Grace spun around to look at her grandmother. “How much time does the man need? He’s had years.”
“Yes, well, he’ll figure things out. Sooner than later, I think.”
“I don’t think so. To him, I’m just Brendan’s little sister.”
“There’s no just about it,” Lula Mae said, grabbing one last container before she closed the fridge and walked back to the counter where she’d piled everything else. “He doesn’t have brotherly feelings for you, Gracie. I’ve never seen anyone fluster that boy the way you do.”
“Oh, come on, Jaxson Anderson doesn’t get flustered,” Grace said, shaking her head.
“If you think that, then he isn’t the only one who’s blind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You see, Gracie, you’ve never had the chance to observe him when you aren’t around.”
“And?” she prompted, gesturing with her hand for her grandmother to carry on.
“He changes when you’re around. Smiles more.”
“Really? ’Cause he still frowns a whole lot around me.”
“Well, that’s usually when some other boy is trying to get your attention and he’s jealous.”
“Jealous,” Grace scoffed. “He doesn’t get jealous.”
“Oh, yes he does. Grace, you need to open your eyes. That boy has been fighting his feelings for you for years.”
And with that, Lula Mae went about fixing her menu for the day, leaving Grace even more frustrated than she had been the minute before.
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Contents
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One: Short Fuses and a Whole Lot of Sparks
Chapter Two: Find the Beat Again
Chapter Three: A Harlot at the Funeral Home
Chapter Four: One of the Gals
Chapter Five: Turning Up the Heat
Chapt
er Six: Free Falling
Chapter Seven: Staking a Claim
Chapter Eight: The Ugly Underwear Theory
Chapter Nine: The Case of the Disappearing Bra
Chapter Ten: Coming Up for Air
Chapter Eleven: Trials and Tribulations
Chapter Twelve: The Power of Patience and a Kiss Good Night
Chapter Thirteen: A Stuffed Elephant and a Scheming Weasel
Chapter Fourteen: Shake It for Me Girl
Chapter Fifteen: Socks, Sunrises, and Sex…Lots of It
Chapter Sixteen: Good Enough
Chapter Seventeen: Why Don’t You Stay…Forever
Chapter Eighteen: Above and Beyond
Chapter Nineteen: A Calling, Not a Choice
Chapter Twenty: Broken Promises and Broken Hearts
Chapter Twenty-One: This Life Would Kill Me If I Didn’t Have You
Epilogue: The End and the Beginning
About the Author
A Preview of Undeniable
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Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Shannon Richard
Excerpt from Undeniable copyright © 2013 by Shannon Richard
Cover design by Oceana Gottlieb. Cover copyright © 2013 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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