by Lainey Reese
“That heartless bitch,” Andie said vehemently, startling a chuckle out of him.
“Yeah, well, I felt like I kinda had that coming. But it was years before I could bring myself back home. I got my ass outta New York. Got a crap day-job and some grants and put myself through college. I was determined to turn my life around. I started filling out. Got rid of the piercings and crazy hair and committed to being a better person. A person who could come back home with his head high someday, and that’s what I did.”
“You sure as hell did,” she told him with more vehemence as she pushed from her seat to round the table and throw herself in his arms. “God, Jax, I’m so sorry! I just want to go back in time and hold that boy you used to be.” Her unbelievable words were whispered into his neck. As she clung to him, Jax felt years of pain and self-directed hatred melt away. Her compassion for the neglected and lonely kid who used to be him felt like an absolution. “I can’t believe you had to go through that. It’s so awful, and I hate her. I hope you hate her now; please tell me you do, because she had the love of not just one amazing guy but two and treated you both like garbage. So, I hate her.” Her words were a fervent vow that warmed places in his heart he hadn’t realized were cold.
“God, Andie,” he said, suddenly crushing her to him as he soaked in her understanding. “Why you? Why, did I have to fall for Luke’s girl again?”
“Hey.” Andie burrowed even closer, if that were possible, and said, “I’m not Luke’s girl. I told you. It was a one-night stand that ended horribly. I know it’s unfair to put this on you—pregnant with another man’s kid—but I’m here, because I chose you. Not him. You.”
It was exactly what he never knew he needed to hear. Jax turned his head and crushed his mouth to hers as an eruption of pent-up emotions poured from him. Andie met him kiss for kiss, seeming as desperate for his touch as he was for hers.
Never taking his mouth from her, Jax shoved back from the table and stumbled a little crookedly to the couch. They bumped walls and furniture along the way, and he was relieved she chuckled at the fumbling missteps and didn’t make him feel like an inept nerd for failing on the romantic swoop and carry.
She bounced a little and shuffled when he sat her on the cushions. Jax planted one foot on the floor between her bare toes and placed his other knee next to her hip on the couch. He leaned over her so his forearm rested on the back behind her and cradled her head in his palm. His kisses slowed, became deeper and wetter as he let his free hand glide up her leg under her skirt from her knee to the valley between that was radiating warmth and wet. He could feel it even through the scrap of panties she wore. It was heaven, touching her after these endless weeks.
Jax broke from the kiss with a soft groan as he eased his fingers under the lace. He pressed his forehead tight to hers, their noses side by side, and he stared into eyes that had glazed over with passion. “Holy shit. Andie,” he said as her silky folds parted under his seeking touch. “I knew you’d be hot. I knew you’d be fucking perfect.”
His words were reverent as he felt the swollen bud of her clit, and he groaned when she arched and quivered in reaction. Slow, savoring every nuance, he eased his longest finger into her. As that silky and incredibly snug flesh surrendered to his touch, Jax kept his gaze locked on hers. Andie’s mouth dropped open. Her hips lifted, and her hands scrambled on the back of his shirt while unintelligible words fell jumbled and breathy from her lips.
The window was open, and a light evening breeze blew softly across her face. With her back bowed up in ecstasy, she was seconds away from climax. Andie arched her neck, feeling that slow, delicious buildup that told her any second now—
She sucked in deep as that feeling started to crest, and then Andie wrenched away with both hands clamped to her mouth and leaped over the coffee table like an Olympic hurdler.
She was heaving before she made it to the hallway and was too caught up in misery to be embarrassed about the disgusting trail she left in her wake. The breeze that had felt so fresh had smelled anything but. It carried the stench of sheep and fertilizer. Her poor stomach hadn’t stood a chance.
Ten miserable minutes later, Andie was crouched over the commode, crying softly. She never got sick, even as a kid; she’d been lucky that way. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had thrown up before becoming pregnant. And throwing up hurt.
“Why does it have to hurt?” she asked the toilet, too exhausted and afraid of a comeback to lift her head yet. “Isn’t it bad enough that I’m sick? That all my insides feel like they’re rotting? Does it have to hurt so bad?”
Just then, a cool, damp cloth draped over the back of her neck, so relieving she let out a small sob of gratitude. It was followed closely by a second one on her forehead. Jax crouched down close and held both to her with such tenderness the tears she was shedding took up speed.
“What do you mean it hurts? Like your tummy aches?” he asked, and she could hear the edge of worry in his voice.
“No.” She stopped for a second then elaborated. “Well, yes. But that comes with the territory, doesn’t it? You expect that. What I don’t get is why everything else has to hurt.” She could hear the petulance in her own voice, knew she’d probably be mortified by it tomorrow, but at the moment, she was too miserable to care. “The muscles in my back and abs and even my arms and shoulders hurt. Like really hurt, from a workout kinda but worse. And my neck, everything strains so hard when you puke! Why? My neck feels like I’ve been strangled.” She ran clammy and shaky fingers over her abused throat with a pitiable whimper. “To top it all off, my head is throbbing in time with my heartbeat. It’s like an all-over symphony of pain. I think I’m going to die if this keeps up. I really do.”
“Poor baby.” He sounded sincere and, lucky for him, not at all amused, because she honestly thought she’d kill him if he laughed at her pitiful whining right now. He could poke fun at her later, after she wasn’t in such agony. Say, a year from now. But until then, he was very smart to keep any hint of amusement out of his tone.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you into bed. You need rest and something to ease that sore tummy. Let me help you up.”
Reluctantly and with great caution, Andie let Jax help her to her feet. “I’ve got to clean up the mess first.” The thought of mopping up vomit had the back of her throat tingling sharply and her saliva glands reawakening, so she stopped before turning away from the basin just in case— “God! I…. Shit—” She swallowed a couple times and fought to keep it down. “I can’t! Can’t go to bed with that mess waiting for me.”
“I already took care of it, sweetheart. Let’s just get you lying down. I’ve never seen anyone go so pale. Come on.”
The trek up the stairs was a slow one, and sweat beaded on her brow by the time she made it to the top. But make it to the top she did, so that was a win in Andie’s book.
Jax made a beeline for her bed, but Andie waved with her hand toward the adjoining bathroom. “I have to brush my teeth. I think I’ll feel a lot better when this taste is out of my mouth.”
“All right, let’s go slow,” he said in a tender voice that made her choke up a little. He was too good of a man for this.
Andie brushed her teeth slowly as she stared into the mirror and thought about everything she had ahead of her and just what she was asking Jax to take on.
Sure, she reasoned as she scrubbed and lifted an eyebrow at her reflection, she shouldn’t have to stop living because this happened, but did she really have the right to ask him to go through this with her?
She knew the answer to that question even before it fully formed in her head. With a resigned sigh, Andie rinsed and finished up. She was not the least bit surprised to find Jax hovering by the door, waiting for her to come out so he could help her to bed.
“God,” she said under her now minty fresh breath. “This is gonna suck. Jax,” Andie started once she sat on the side of the bed. “I can’t do this.”
“Oh no,” he cr
ooned and dropped to a squat so they were eye level as he cupped her cold hands in his bigger, warmer ones. “No, baby. You can do this. You will.” Obviously thinking she meant the pregnancy, Jax’s smile was tender, sweet, and cut her heart in two. “I’ll be here. Time is gonna fly, and sure it will be rough in some spots, but in the end, there is going to be this amazing new life. A kid who, with any luck, will take after you and not the Neanderthal.”
“Right?” she agreed with a smirk. “No, I know the baby is going to be great.” She squeezed his hands for a brief second then freed one to cup his cheek. “I meant, I can’t do this to you.”
“What are you saying? What about downstairs? Just twenty minutes ago?” He looked confused, and already Andie felt like a villain.
“I was beyond selfish.” She hoped this made sense to him and that it didn’t sound like some cheesy copout. “Look at me; I’m sick. Who knows how long this will last? And I’m going to get fat and be moody, and things are going to be so crazy. For me. It is not fair to expect you to be a part of that. We weren’t even really dating, and now when things get hard, I’ll never know if you are staying just because you feel obligated.” Which is bullshit, Andie thought to herself. She knew he was a good man, but he wasn’t a martyr.
“Andie, that’s crap and you know it. You have to know that.” The way he was looking her dead in the eye told her to never play poker with Jax; he’d call her bluff every time.
“Okay.” She gave in with a sigh. “You’re right. I know you’d never do that. I need to not do this to you though. For me.” She returned his look and opened herself up completely. “I don’t have a lot of control right now. I can’t go back and change not getting to see Uncle Wally before he died. I can’t change the way things ended with Luke that night, and I can’t change the fact that I’m pregnant.” She kissed his cheek and rested her forehead on his. “But I can change this. I can control not dragging you down with me. I know you’d stick. I know, especially after what you told me about Luke and Christy, that if you made a commitment to me, you’d never leave me, no matter how bad things got. And that’s why I can’t ask you to stay.
“There’s more to my decision though. I am about to be going through more than a doozy of a physical change. I’m going to go through an emotional one too.” Andie felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. “All day, I’ve been thinking about me and my life and what I want. I kept thinking about what I want for myself. At the end of the day, the question that continuously popped up was ‘what if I could still have Jax?’ Even if it was just until the baby got here.” When Jax opened his mouth to speak, she put her fingers on his lips. “But that’s the thing. The oh-so-sad fly in my ointment.” Her eyes and her hand dropped to her midriff. “The baby is already here. The only relationship I should focus on right now is the one with the person growing inside me.”
Jax’s brow creased and his lips compressed, and then he brushed at the tears that spilled onto her cheeks.
“Okay.” His voice was gruff, like he found it difficult to speak softly. “I get that. I’m not going anywhere though. I think you just need a little time. No. No, don’t argue with me. Even if the time you need is nine months, I’ll give you that. I’m not going anywhere, Andie. No pressure. Honest. But I’m going to be right here, and as soon as you get your head on straight and decide what’s best for you both, you let me know.” Then he kissed the tip of her nose, stood to his full height, and left without looking back.
The hardest thing Andie ever did in her life was to keep quiet and let him go.
Chapter 8
A week later, Jax put his car in park in front of Andie’s place and stepped out into the balmy heat. Then got audibly assaulted with the last thing he ever expected smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt. AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” was blaring through the idyllic countryside like a heavy metal declaration of war. The rock anthem as out of place with the orchards and cornfields surrounding him as he’d been growing up here. Surprisingly, the thought brought a nostalgic smile to his face instead of the usual uncomfortable embarrassing thoughts like those normally did. He turned away from the house where Andie waited for him and headed toward the barn where the soundtrack of his youth beckoned like the veritable Pied Piper.
There were two barns on the property, one for the animals and one that acted as a garage and workshop. Wally loved tinkering on all his tractors and engines himself rather than paying a mechanic, and this barn had been set up for just that purpose. It was a huge, cavernous space where the smell of old wood and grease perfumed the air. The entire front opened to allow the larger rigs easy in-and-out access. Jax rounded the house and saw that the doors were spread wide, letting the sun in and the music out.
As Jax stepped from glaring heat into the cool shade of the barn, his eyes adjusted, but his mind refused to believe what he saw. Right smack in the middle of the floor stood a pile of twisted metal about twelve feet tall. He had no idea if it was steel or iron or what, because it was scorched in places to a charcoal black and glowing red and gold in others. There was something regal and enthralling about the shape of it, the drift of it. The form was almost feminine in its design. It had a certain flow that never allowed his eyes to rest in any one spot for more than a second before following its sinuous lines to the next.
Sparks flew in a fiery spray from the other side, and the sound of metal grinding on metal completed the ambiance to make him feel like he wandered into a Mad Max movie.
Mesmerized, Jax watched as a woman slowly backed her way around the sculpture, grinding as she went. She was dressed in baggy coveralls that looked as ancient and beat as the barn she was standing in. Only one shoulder strap was buckled, and the bib sagged on the open side to reveal the white tank she wore underneath. Her slender, bare arms were corded with some impressive muscles Jax noted, and damn if she didn’t wield that grinder like a wizard with a wand.
Her hair was gathered in tangled knots of red, pink, and gold, and she sported her welder’s mask like other women wore tiaras.
Jax couldn’t make out anything of her face. That mask obscured it completely, and he became increasingly fascinated as she worked. He couldn’t quite make out her figure, the denim too baggy to give him much of a clue, but she was slender and not too tall for a woman. She was no more than five-four by his guess, not that he was an expert on things like that. Her baggy backside bumped and grinded with the beat as the song changed to Guns ‘n’ Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle,” and her hair bounced along as she added head bobbing, and he could swear he heard her belting out the lyrics over all the other ruckus.
Jax lost track of time. It could’ve been hours that he stood transfixed, taking it all in. He couldn’t decide what intrigued him more, the artist or the art she was creating right in front of his eyes. The two were inseparable, like parts of a whole, and he found the creator just as beautiful and compelling as the creation.
Motley Crue’s anthem “Girls Girls Girls” was playing when she turned off the grinder and set it aside an eternity later. With her back still toward him, she removed the welding mask and dropped it to the floor next to the discarded power tool and then—to Jax’s continued amazement—released the single strap holding her overalls in place. The worn denim plopped to her feet where she kicked them aside. Legs. Good God, the woman had legs to her ears. They were tan and slender and would have made any Rockette green with envy. And holy shit, the woman had tats. There was what looked like a wreath of small flowers encircling one perfect thigh like a garter and something delicate and swirly on her other ankle. She stretched, arms extended, her body fully engaged, and then she folded forward with the grace of a prima ballerina. Jax felt his mouth drop open when she wrapped both arms around her knees and held her torso flush against those mouthwatering limbs.
His eyes coursed over her, taking in the beauty of her form and, since it was pointed directly at him, the flawless rounded perfection of her barely covered ass. She had on a pair of dark and li
ght green striped panties that molded to the globes like they were painted on, and it never even occurred to him that maybe he should look away. When she pressed deeper into the pose with a breathy exhale that sounded almost sexual to his ears, she turned her face in his direction, and Jax felt the impact of her beauty like it was a physical blow.
She had a slightly rounded face with delicate brows and a small, slim nose. Her eyes were closed, so Jax had no clue as to their color, but the shape was large and almond. It was her mouth though that had his attention. She had those perfect Cupid’s bow lips and the most delectable dimple in her chin. Jax felt like he’d taken a step back in time and was staring at a 1940s pin-up girl.
Kiki held the stretch and imagined the burn in her muscles melting away the fatigue and strain from her work. This newest piece was coming along nicely. Her muse had kept her in a choke hold for the last twelve hours, dragging her out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m. It wasn’t unusual for her when inspiration struck to go without sleep or food, but usually her muse had the good sense to keep her up late, not wake her early! She was going to have a serious face-to-face with that fickle bitch if this ever happened again.