by Lucy Score
But first, he’d text his mother.
Cayuga Lake.
Her response was succinct.
Smart ass.
22
Dig out began promptly at six the next morning despite the fact that the snow was still briskly falling. Twenty-eight inches of white, fluffy flakes coated the pre-dawn world of Blue Moon.
Joey’s priority—after having Jax dig out a dog-friendly potty break area in the yard—was to clear a path with the Jeep to the stables so she could start the morning feeding.
Colby texted to say he and his little brother were on their way to the farm on snowmobiles. They’d start the dig out there with the ATVs. Jax would split his time between the two sights and they’d all meet back at Joey’s for breakfast at ten.
She climbed into the freezing cold passenger seat of Carter’s Jeep and hit the button on the garage door opener. The door rolled up to reveal a monstrous drift blocking their path.
“Ready?” Jax asked with a grin.
Joey gripped the handle on the dash. “Oh, yeah. Punch it.”
The Jeep lurched forward, sending plumes of snow over the hood as they charged out of the garage.
Joey hooted her approval while Jax expertly plowed a path down the hill toward the stables.
They pulled up to the front of the barn and eyed the five-foot drift that glistened in the headlights in front of the door. “Next time we’re putting up a snow fence,” Joey grumbled. She grabbed the shovel out of the backseat. “I’ll start on the drift,” she told Jax.
“I’ll clear in front of the building and come help with feeding,” he told her.
“Enjoy your nice warm vehicle,” Joey sighed and slipped out the passenger door. She’d dressed in layers, knowing how quickly shoveling got her temperature up. Plus, the furnace in the barn would keep the temperature close to fifty degrees so she’d be able to shuck the heavy Carhartt jacket in no time.
She tackled the drift efficiently, working to clear the snow away from the door and mounding it to prevent more drifts. Her body felt primed and ready for a challenge. Last night’s sexual acrobatics and the deepest sleep she could remember in recent history left her feeling energetic, almost cheerful.
Just as dawn began to break behind her, the shovel finally met the base of the door and she scooped the last foot out of the way.
The barn door swung open and, with the flip of a light switch, Joey was relieved to see the normalcy inside. The furnace had survived the night, which meant the pipes shouldn’t be frozen and her morning had just gotten a whole lot easier.
A couple of barn cats meandered out of their hidey-holes to greet her. She refilled their food dishes and checked their water before moving down the aisle to greet her horses.
Everyone was awake and ready for breakfast. She stopped in the office to shed her jacket and start the coffee. Water buckets were first. Joey started at the back of the stables and worked her way forward, emptying the heated buckets, cleaning them, and refilling them with warm water. Each bucket hung flat against the stall wall near a recessed outlet. The power kept the water at a warm enough temperature to prevent freezing, enticing the horses to drink.
Jax came in, stomping snow off his boots and sending the barn cats scurrying for cover. He sniffed the air and went straight for the coffee in the office. He reappeared and handed her his mug. She took a deep pull, wrinkling her nose at the sugarless brew.
“I’ll start haying at the back while you finish the water,” he said, taking his mug back.
“Sounds good,” Joey nodded, and watched him saunter toward the feed room. His jeans were worn and hung low on his hips. There were holes in the knee and one in the ass that offered a glimpse of dark purple underwear. One of the sleeves of his blue and white checked flannel jacket was torn and the gray Henley beneath it was cut tight over his chest. Two days of stubble at his jaw and bed-tousled hair given to curl at the ends gave him the look of a sleepy-eyed fallen angel.
What she wouldn’t give to get him back in her bed right now.
She shook herself, rolled her eyes at her schoolgirl fantasies. They had work to do. Livestock didn’t wait patiently for her to roll out of bed and skip down the aisle with feed. There was a schedule to be followed, order to be upheld. And maybe later she could sink her hands into Jax’s lightly curling hair and do all those unspeakable things she wanted to do.
She made quick work of the rest of the water buckets and took over the haying duties from Jax. With a parting kiss and another coffee refill, he headed out to blaze a trail between stables and farm.
Joey opened her music app on the computer in the office and piped soothing classical songs into the barn. The horses responded well to classical—and country—and she hoped to keep them mellow for as long as possible while confined to their stalls. The next two hours passed quickly while she mucked and hit the feed bins with a second breakfast of grain.
She swept the stable alley clean of straw and nodded her satisfaction at a job well done. Usually Colby and another part-time helper handled the morning feeding, and she’d forgotten how productive she felt with thirty mounts all happily fed and stalls cleaned.
It was time to head back to the house to check in on the dogs and get a breakfast of champions started. Her stomach growled in agreement. She closed up the stable door and hustled through the three inches of new snowfall back to the house.
Peering through the window, Joey found all three dogs curled up on the couch happily snoozing the morning away. The turning of the handle brought them all to the door barking and shedding and skittering for purchase.
“Okay, okay. Everybody outside before you get too excited and pee.” She looked sternly at Meatball. Waffles, understanding everything she said, scampered to the back door. She ushered them out and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. Bacon and cheddar waffles with a side of sausage links was what a morning like this called for. And coffee. Gallons of coffee.
She enjoyed it, the meal preparation for more than just herself. Cooking for others had always held a secret kind of pleasure for her. And just because this was a mid-morning break from hard labor didn’t mean she shouldn’t fuss a little.
* * *
Jax drove Colby and his younger brother Brody up to Joey’s house, stopping at the skinny shovel-cleared path to the front door. Three semi-frozen men looking for a hot meal and a reason to take off their boots poured out of the Jeep and up the porch steps.
He opened the front door to twelve dancing feet as the dogs swarmed them.
Joey waved a greeting with a spatula from the kitchen. “Grab some coffee, guys. Breakfast’ll be ready in a minute.”
They shucked off snowy layers and hung them on the drying rack Joey had thoughtfully set up inside the door.
“How’s the farm?” Joey asked from the stove.
“Under an avalanche, but I think we got a good bit cleared,” Colby answered, making a beeline for the coffee.
“Creamer’s in the fridge if you want any,” Jax said, remembering the bottle Joey had him buy yesterday.
He made a move to drop a kiss on Joey’s cheek and she dodged him. He bit back a sigh at her shyness. An audience shouldn’t matter, and the fact that she was still acting like this was a casual fling was going to start pissing him off.
He took in the spread she’d laid out on the island. A stack of piping hot waffles with—dear lord, was that bacon?—sat next to the tray that she was dumping perfectly browned sausage links onto. A jar of homemade strawberry jam was open next to the toaster and a loaf of bread. Creamy grits topped with cheese and hot sauce warmed on the stove.
This was love. This was how Joey showed her heart. Baking and cooking. Feeding the ones she cared about. For years, she’d squirreled away little bags of cookies for him. Every dessert she’d ever brought to family get-togethers, it was all her heart she was serving up. He wondered if she knew it. If she realized that with every waffle, every sausage link, every perfect cup of coffee, she was saying “I
love you.”
His father’s words ran through his head. I’d learned long ago that actions spoke louder than words…
Maybe it was time for him to find a better way to tell her he loved her.
Brody poured himself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher and pulled out a barstool to sit. His straw colored hair stuck up at all angles after swiping off the orange knit cap.
“This looks awesome, Jo,” he told her.
“Thanks, Bro,” she winked.
The tops of his hormonal, teenage ears pinked up.
Jax rolled his eyes at Colby. He remembered what it was like to be eighteen and knew the thoughts that were rolling around in there, especially where Joey Greer was concerned.
His phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans. It was a text from Carter with screenshots of Blue Moon’s Facebook group, all snowy scenes from downtown.
Your pants are on fire.
Jax smirked. He fired back a response.
That’s the only thing keeping my balls from freezing while I dig your farm out from under eight feet of snow.
Carter’s reply came quickly.
Not sure whether to say fuck you or thank you.
Jax laughed and passed his phone to Joey so she could read the texts while he loaded up a plate of heavenly breakfast. He’d show her in kind. And, in doing so, would give a nod to his father’s insights on how to love a stubborn woman.
* * *
With the bulk of the snow cleared from the essential access points of the farm by early afternoon, Jax sent Colby and Brody home and set about cleaning up the fresh snowfall. Carter had texted him so many times that Jax finally left his phone in the Jeep and enjoyed the blissful solitude.
The snow was finally starting to taper off, and with it the work. With breakfast far behind them, lunch was sounding like a better and better idea. And it would be the perfect opportunity to drag Joey away from work to surprise her with a little slice of fun.
What would be more romantic than a blizzard picnic?
He surveyed the barn, looking for the ideal spot. He settled on the small storage room off the main door. It had a handful of small windows that looked out on the snow and it was far enough away from Clementine’s stall that she wouldn’t ruin the moment.
In the farmhouse he pulled the quilt off of his bed and gathered some floor pillows from the great room. He tweaked the set up on the barn floor, angling the quilt this way and that for effect until he was satisfied. Then it was back to the house to forage for a lunch that didn’t look thrown together.
It wasn’t easy in a household of vegetarians. But Jax raided his own lunchmeat stash and built a pair of sandwiches that would make a deli proud. He wrapped up dill pickles and stole two of the single serve bags of chips that Summer rationed for herself. Dessert was difficult. There was no ice cream in the freezer and if he wanted baked goods, he’d have to sneak into Joey’s cookie jar. Finally, he spotted Oreos in the back of the pantry and filled a sandwich bag with them.
He found a bottle of champagne that Carter had tucked away after Beckett and Gia’s wedding in the wine cooler. Jax grabbed two champagne flutes and threw everything into a cardboard box he found upstairs and headed back across the yard to the barn. The mound of snow next to the door made a convenient champagne ice bucket so he screwed the bottle into the drift up to its neck and left the glasses sitting on the window’s ledge.
Back inside, he unloaded his haul and neatly laid sandwiches on plates and accessorized with chips, pickles, and Oreos.
He folded the paper towels he’d brought as napkins and tucked them under each plate. The whole scene looked cozy and romantic. Even Joey wouldn’t be able to resist, he thought with a satisfied nod.
He took the Jeep over to the stables and found Joey picking the hooves of a freshly groomed pony on the crossties in the stable aisle. Jax loved watching her when she worked. Every move was competent, efficient. No energy was wasted. She moved with a precision and a purpose that made horses and people fall in line to keep up. It was obvious that her heart was here, too.
She never skimped on the care of her horses, never let anyone else give a sub-par effort there either. It was one of the reasons her riding lesson program had grown so quickly. She had a way of impressing the importance of care and discipline, while still preserving the wonder of what it felt like to ride and be in tune with a mount.
“Good boy, Roscoe,” she said, patting the pony’s neck. “Everything healed up nicely.”
“Thrush?” Jax asked.
Surprised by his presence, Joey glanced up. “Nope. A sole bruise. But everything looks good now.”
“Good. Are you hungry?”
Joey frowned. “What time is it?”
“Almost three. I thought we could break for a late lunch.”
“Sounds good. I’ve got chili leftovers at the house,” she offered.
He shook his head. “I took the liberty of arranging lunch for us.”
Joey raised her eyebrows. “Well, aren’t you thoughtful? Let me put Roscoe here back in his stall and I’ll be ready. Where are we eating?”
“I thought we’d do a little farm to table in the barn.”
“That sounds…odd.”
Jax grinned at his practical girl.
They bumped along the snowy drive from stables to farm, pausing briefly to note that the plows hadn’t yet come through on the road.
“We could be snowed in for days,” Joey said, sliding out of the passenger seat.
Jax led the way to the barn door. “I wouldn’t mind.
“The only downside is Carter and Summer can’t come back and pick up the slack. Summer already texted me four times asking me to go into her office just to check this and check that.”
“She’s probably driven the guest editor insane by now and that’s why she’s coming to you,” Jax predicted, he pulled the bottle of champagne out of the snow.
“The thought had crossed my mind. Just exactly what kind of lunch are we having here?” Joey asked suspiciously.
“A blizzard picnic,” he said, twisting the cork until it popped free.
He plucked the flutes off of the windowsill and filled them with the festive liquid.
“To blizzards,” he toasted.
“To blizzards,” Joey echoed, raising the glass to her lips.
Jax pulled the door open and stepped aside motioning her inside.
“I know we’re not eating with Clementine,” Joey joked. “Are we in with the pigs?”
“We have our own space today,” he said, gesturing toward the storage room.
Joey stuck her head in the door. “Oh shit,” she said.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like sandwiches?”
Joey turned around and put a hand on his chest to stop him from going through the doorway.
“Don’t freak out, okay?”
“Why would I freak out—” he heard the demonic bleat of a goat. But it wasn’t coming from Clementine’s stall. It was coming from his picnic.
He stormed through the door and took in the scene. “What the hell?”
Clementine stood on the quilt devouring the second sandwich. She’d also eaten a hole in one of the cushions, shredded the cardboard box he’d used to cart everything outside, and crapped on his damn quilt.
“I’m going to murder her,” Jax growled. Joey made a grab for him and he made a grab for the goat, but Clementine saw him coming and danced to the side.
Jax and Joey ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor.
“You are the worst farm animal in the history of farm animals,” Jax yelled trying to extricate himself from Joey’s arms.
Clementine swooped back around and grabbed an Oreo off of one of the plates.
“Those are my cookies!” Jax yelled.
Joey was laughing so hard she still hadn’t stood back up.
“It’s not funny. This was supposed to be sweet and romantic,” he grumbled, making another grab for the goat.
That
only made her laugh harder until she snorted. “Don’t be mad, Jax,” Joey giggled.
Clementine bleated in glee.
“I’m going to find a goat rescue that specializes in asshole goats and that’s where you’re going,” he told Clementine. She feinted left and when he sprang in that direction, Clementine turned to the right and ran out the door into the main barn.
Jax tripped over a bale of hay and landed face first on his ruined picnic.
“Please stop. Please,” Joey gasped. “If you move or say one more thing I’m going to pee my pants.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm the laughter. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I am never going to forget this as long as I live.”
Well, it looked like he had his own Cayuga Lake, now. At least the cops weren’t involved.
* * *
Joey felt guilty enough for laughing hysterically all over Jax’s disastrous attempt at lunch that she decided to make up for it. She roasted a chicken and made mashed potatoes and gravy for dinner that night. All of which she served wearing her cozy white robe tied tight.
For dessert, she took off her robe and gave Jax an eyeful of sexy, sheer bralette and shorts. It was completely impractical as far as underwear was concerned. The set had come free with an order of the sturdy sports bras she preferred for work and she hadn’t had a use for it, until tonight.
It seemed to do the job though as Jax cheered up considerably and stopped threatening to deport Clementine to Siberia. And after a spectacular round of orgasms for them both, they ate slices of second dessert, chocolate cake with peanut butter icing, in bed.
The dogs exhausted themselves playing outside for an hour and fell asleep in a clump at the foot of the bed. Meatball, his little Beagle face resting on Valentina’s back, was snoring. Joey turned on the bedroom TV to a sitcom and snuggled deeper into the pillows. She stuffed her bare toes under Jax’s leg for warmth.
Jax pulled out his laptop and divided his time between frowning at his screen while typing furiously and sending sidelong glances at her.
“What are you working on?” Joey asked.
“Answering brewery emails—we’re closed tomorrow, by the way—and working on some script polishing.”