Cowboy Reality Romance: Jaxon

by Erica Penrod

  “Jaxon, that’s exactly why we need you to get down here. This is a delicate situation, and if we handle it correctly, I will soar—I mean, the show will soar to the top of the ratings. ”

  Bile rose in his throat. It was a good thing he couldn’t reach through the phone, because he wanted to grab her and shake her. “Where in that crazy head of yours did you get the idea that I would let you use my family to promote your ratings?”

  Miley’s voice remained silky. “Technically, she’s not your family anymore, although the child she’s carrying would be. But Jaxon … are you sure the baby is yours?”

  If he didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he heard her purring. His insides burst into fire while his nostrils flared.

  “Jaxon?”

  No answer.

  “Jaxon?”

  “What?” he said through gritted teeth.

  “You’ll get down here as fast as you can,” her voice was laced with arsenic, “if you want to keep What’s-Her-Name off every tabloid cover across the nation. Not that I care—free publicity. But I think you’d prefer to handle it differently. Keep the spotlight on yourself and not the little mommy-to-be. I’ve heard emotional distress can be difficult on a pregnancy.”

  He chucked the phone across the cab, where it bounced onto the floor. His ribs writhed in pain as he tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but it only added fuel to his rage. Miley’s call felt like another kick to the kidney, right when he was ready to go in and show Janie he could change, prove to her and his entire family nothing mattered more to him than their future. But Miley pushed the repeat button, and once again his role on The Cowboys made him an outlaw. Maybe he’d never be the hero. He took one more look at the house before he started the truck, then he turned the key, slammed it into drive, and peeled out.

  * * *

  Janie let the curtain fall as she watched Jaxon drive away. When Brynna called, saying she’d convinced him to come, Janie’s stomach had taken up a not-so-silent protest. Morning sickness was an obvious candidate, or maybe last night’s second helping of ice cream, but the more likely source was anticipating another run-in with Jaxon.

  She’d seen him more in the last two days than she’d seen him in the last few months. He was busy with the show, and she was diligently putting one foot in front of the other, learning to live with the divorce. Routine was the best company and the quickest way to dull the ache of a healing heart, something she had discovered when her parents died right after she finished cosmetology school. Janie put herself on a tight schedule, one appointment after another, which left little time to dwell on their passing. She had started the process all over with the death of her marriage.

  When Janie discovered her pregnancy, things finally turned a corner for her. Others probably assumed she was crazy: her divorce was finalized, she was about to become a single mother, and she was elated she’d have someone of her own. The Davises were family, but there was always a void inside ever since her parents had died. Her baby filled the empty space they’d left.

  Some days she didn’t think she’d make it through. Jaxon held her when she lost her parents, but he didn’t hold her now. She couldn’t turn to him, and she didn’t know how to get through this without him. That was the most difficult part of it all. It was something she couldn’t even share with his sister. Brynna was her best friend, but their relationship was different from her and Jaxon’s. He had been her best friend in a way that only a spouse could be. Even before they were married, there were things that Jaxon understood about her in a way no one else could comprehend. He’d been right by her side through every trial she’d ever had to endure. And now she was faced with the most terrible trial she could imagine, tribulation and heartbreak, and he wasn’t here to help her through it.

  Janie thought her parents’ passing had to be the most arduous thing a person could endure, but they were not gone by choice, and Jaxon was, even though she was the one who had filed for divorce. His choices and actions had given her no other alternative; she’d rather live without him than spend the rest of her life resenting him.

  “He left?” Kyle asked.

  Janie turned around, and he patted her shoulder. “I don’t know what to say, other than to give him some time. He’s more like his old man than should be allowed.” Janie half smiled and hugged him while he stood there like a fence post. His aversion to physical contact never slowed her down—after all, he was the only father she had left. Through the years, his body wasn’t as stiff as it used to be when she hugged him. In a way, she counted on his strength to be there for her.

  “I don’t why I let myself get so worked up over him. You’d think after all this time I’d learn.” She hooked her arm through his. “Maybe this way we’ll get to enjoy the party.”

  Kyle’s deep brown eyes searched her face, and she knew he was looking for any proof she believed she was better off without his son. Up until two days ago, she had been. But now, she was back to waiting for him at the window, like she did when she was fifteen, sitting on the windowsill underneath the moonlight.

  They walked into the kitchen. Brynna, Layne, and Race were gathered around the counter, munching on the relish tray Brynna had brought. Someone knocked on the door, and her heart fluttered. Jaxon. She motioned for Kyle to join the others. Janie retraced her steps into the living room, and Gus sat by the door and barked. She felt butterflies in her stomach and tried to scatter them with a giant breath.

  Smoothing her T-shirt over her tummy, she scooted Gus to the side and flung open the door. “So you decided … oh, it’s you.”

  “Well, hello to you too,” Quade said. Her movie partner was dressed in dark jeans with a short-sleeved shirt, and his hair was gelled into place—the bangs swooped up, and the sides were trimmed nice and tight.

  “Sorry, Quade,” Janie said. “Please come in.”

  “I thought you said I was invited to this party.” Quade stepped into the room and handed her a bouquet of flowers. He reached down and petted Gus on the head.

  “You are, I was just—” She trailed off, not sure how to explain the sense of anticipation for Jaxon that went through her.

  “Hoping for someone else,” he filled in.

  “No. No, of course not.” She smelled the flowers. “Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. So, I take it he’s not coming,” Quade said. “I tried to call him last night, but it went straight to voice mail.”

  Janie hovered near the entryway, not wanting to carry this conversation into the kitchen. “He showed up for a minute. Parked across the street, sat in his truck, and then drove off.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she nonchalantly wiped at her eyes.

  Quade took her in his arms. “You know …” he rested his chin on her head, “maybe we’re not giving him enough credit. We both know it can take a while for things to sink in for Jaxon, and if he’s not ready, then chances are he’d end up doing something we’d all regret—and he knows that.”

  “You’re right. It’s probably for the best.” Janie pulled away from his arms, thinking about her guests in the other room. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Umm … you’re pregnant.”

  “Really?” She pulled on her shirt to emphasize her belly. “I thought I was stress eating.”

  Quade looked down and laughed. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I am stress eating.”

  They started towards the kitchen. “Wait.” He stared at her beneath a cocked eyebrow. “You didn’t cook, did you?”

  “Hey.” She scowled at him. “That wasn’t very nice. And no, I didn’t. I’m trying to make a good impression on my child’s new uncle.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m starving.”

  * * *

  Race cleared the table as he thought about the evening. Dinner was a success; even Brynna admitted it was delicious. Kyle loosened up, and they told old stories of life on the ranch. His sister threw in tales of her a
nd Jaxon that even Kyle wasn’t aware of. For the first time, Race felt a pang of regret and wondered how it would’ve been to grow up with these people.

  “Let me get those,” Janie said, reaching for the dirty plates stacked in Race’s hands and pulling him from his mind. “You’re the guest, and you don’t need to help me with the dishes.”

  “Forget it.” Race wrangled the pile away from her and placed them in the sink. “Is the dishwasher empty?”

  “Yes, it is, and no, you’re not loading it.” Janie lifted the faucet handle and began rinsing the dishes. “Go outside and relax with everyone else.”

  Brynna stepped through the back door. “You may as well listen to her, because even if you did load the dishwasher, as soon as you left, she’d rearrange it anyway.”

  Janie huffed. “I would not.”

  “Would too.” Brynna grinned, and Race saw the similarities between her and Jaxon in her smile. “Watch this.” She took a bowl from the counter and put it on the bottom shelf of the washer.

  No sooner had she removed her hand than Janie swiped the bowl, shoved in the bottom shelf, pulled out the top rack, and set the bowl in its designated spot. “Now you’re being ridiculous,” she said to Brynna, and stuck out her tongue. “Everyone knows you don’t set that type of a bowl on the bottom rack. It’s common sense.”

  Brynna winked at Race while she leaned over the hugged Janie. “No, sis, it’s common OCD.”

  He chuckled. It didn’t take long for a person to figure that out about Janie. She and his mother would get along great. Race thought about his family back home and decided his sisters would fit right in with Janie and Brynna. Just like he did.

  As soon as she walked into Janie’s house earlier tonight, Brynna welcomed him with a big hug. She gazed up at him with her green eyes from beneath a bushel of red hair, calming any apprehension he felt at seeing her again. Her eager acceptance of him was infectious, and even Kyle appeared more relaxed.

  It was then Brynna introduced her husband, Layne. He stood face to face with Race and shook his hand. Race believed you could tell a lot about a man by his handshake, and most certainly if he looked you straight in the eye while he did it. As a lawyer, he shook a lot of hands, and more times than not, he proved his theory.

  They decided to take the party outside. Beneath the shade, they lounged in lawn chairs with a cooler full of ice and drinks parked beside them. Gus snoozed on the grass next to Race. It was early evening, and the temperature was still hot. In a garden box, Janie’s tomatoes drooped in the heat. Race sipped from his cup and contemplated what his next step would be. His flight left tomorrow from Salt Lake City, and originally he planned to drive through the state, leaving early in the morning so he would have plenty of time to sight see along the way. But now … He glanced over at Janie, laughing at something Brynna said. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw his mother’s dark hair and brown eyes on the screen. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up. “I need to take this.” He accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Mom.” Around the corner of the house, he found a bench sitting amongst a flower garden. As he sat down on the bench, he recognized the Chinese bellflowers from his online inquiry on Southern Utah. Mom always said no one paid more attention to details and research than he did, which was part of the reason he made such a good attorney.

  “What’s going on?” he said. He squirmed in his seat. He never lie to his parents, but he hadn’t told them about coming to find Kyle. He listened as she explained in detail about his grandmother’s upcoming birthday party, which was an annual social event in their community.

  “Are you in town? I haven’t seen you for a few days. You know I don’t like that. It’s hard enough with the girls away at college, so I’m counting on you to give me my mommy fix.”

  Race leaned back against the bench and ran his fingers through his hair. “Mom, you do know I’m twenty-seven, right?”

  “What’s that got to do with it?” she asked. “There’s nothing wrong with a mother needing a hug from her child.”

  “I know.” He couldn’t argue with an angel. “I’ll come over on Tuesday, and you can hug away to your heart’s content.”

  “Thank you, son.” He thought he heard her sigh. “I don’t care how old you get; you’ll always be my baby.”

  Race smiled. “I’m aware of that.”

  “Good,” his mother said. “Oh, and Race?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Just exactly where are you?”

  It was time to come clean.

  Chapter 9

  The sunlight penetrated Jaxon’s dark glasses. Everything was too bright in LA. Jaxon had fought a headache since he left Utah the day before, and the constant lights and sounds of the crowded city did nothing to make it better. He rubbed his head, hoping the pressure would disperse from the pulsing center of his forehead. He was, however, smart enough to take a cab from his hotel; driving in LA without a migraine was torture enough.

  Miley waited for him in her high-rise condominium, and he wasn’t looking forward to greeting his director. She wasn’t happy with him as it was. He’d avoided getting together the minute he arrived in California, and she wasn’t one to be put off for long.

  Jaxon knew his head was a mess, aside from the headache. Things usually went smoother for him if he avoided confrontation when he felt like he wanted to explode. Janie and the baby were always at the forefront of his thoughts, but now the press added a whole other dimension to their situation. Then, of course, there was Race; he couldn’t begin to unravel his tangled web of feelings over that, which—according to his sister—should be laid on his dad’s shoulders. That relationship was already tumultuous, to say the least.

  The driver pulled over, and Jaxon handed him a twenty before he climbed out of the car, limping like a man stepped on by a horse. Meeting Miley had better pay off. He entered the revolving doors with a grunt. He was stopped by security until they realized who he was.

  “Sorry about that, Mr. Davis. I’ll let Miss Rhodes know you’re on the way up.” The beefy man looked down at Jaxon. It was like Davis and Goliath.

  He stared at his reflection in the elevator. His disgruntled appearance could be excused by the fact that taking care of his basic needs was more than his body could cope with. Bruised ribs and a sprained ankle meant the less he moved, the better he felt. Taking time to shave and comb his hair seemed like it wasn’t worth the pain. But the truth was, today he didn’t care about his appearance. Miley would reiterate her opinion on his attire. He was a television star, and while everyone loved the rough stock cowboy, she encouraged him not to walk around—especially in LA and the stops along his tour—like he’d just rolled out from under a haystack. He centered the brim of his hat in the mirror with cautious hands, careful to keep the pace set by his damaged ribs. The elevator stopped, and the doors chimed as they opened.

  , The ritzy décor in the private hallway didn’t faze him like it had before. Jaxon remembered his initial meeting with Miley and the story she delivered about the convenience of working out of her condo after they finished an interview for the previous season’s press tour. His ego had just been fed by filming a segment on a popular entertainment show, and he was hungry for more. All Miley had to do was dangle a few pretty words like money and celebrity, and he ate it up. Later that same evening, someone from the paparazzi took some shots of him leaving Miley’s building, and that was the first time Janie had proof of her suspicions.

  Jaxon was never unfaithful to his wife in a physical sense, but he had abused their relationship. He let the reality show and all its gratuities shift his focus from her and their life together. Out on the road, town to town, with the television crew hot on the heels of his boots, he worked to entertain them. He’d shoot Janie a text saying he loved her and he’d call her later after he got a bite to eat with the gang, then he’d shove the phone in his pocket. A quarter or two in the jukebox, and he w
as the star of the show, giving them lessons on how to Boot Scoot Boogie. The music was loud, and his dancing disguised the vibrating phone in his pocket with Janie’s face on the screen.

  How did I fall for this again? He yanked his hand back before his knuckles tapped against the door. He had to get out of here, and quick. If Miley had things to discuss, they could do it in a public location—which he admitted sounded worse than hiding in her private apartment, but his conscience wanted the clean alibi. If they were seen in public together, everything would be witnessed and nothing would be speculated. There would be misconstrued photos and headlines anyway, no matter where they went, but Kip had some great advice for him when he’d called earlier that day.

  “Man, how do I fix things with Janie?” Jaxon asked.

  Kip was silent. Jaxon could picture his friend deep in thought—the polar opposite of himself. “I don’t know. I guess, act like you would want Janie to act if she were in your place.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “If Janie were a reality star, and she was obligated to do interviews, make appearances, the tour … everything, think about the different scenarios and how you’d want her to act as a married woman.”

  “Okaaaaay.” Jaxon had a hard time picturing Janie signing up for camera time.

  “Would you want her to spend time alone with her director or hang out at parties with single men?”

  “Of course not!”

  “That’s my point.”

  And it was a darn good one.

  Jaxon stewed over his previous actions, and he thought twice before he knocked on Miley’s door, his gut telling him that this wasn’t a good idea.

  His boots pivoted easily on the polished marble floor. Before he made it two feet away, the door swung open.

  “Going somewhere?” Miley asked, stepping forward to touch his arm. Her fragrance filled the hallway and his head, provoking the pain. She wore jeans with a white blouse and tall strappy sandals that made her tower over him. Her hair was twisted in a bun on top of her head. Giant gold hoops hung in her ears.