by Lainey Reese
And Jax coveted. Not just the art, but the artist creating it. She was as much a part of her creation as if it were an extension of one of her limbs and with a talent so blaring Jax wondered how he’d never heard of her before. Talent like this should be world renown, he thought in blatant awe.
“If you’re gonna keep watching, you should put on some eye protection.” The torch shut off abruptly, and Kiki tugged the face mask up to reveal a face flushed and drenched in sweat. When she closed her mermaid eyes and chugged from a water bottle she pulled out of her baggy overalls, Jax couldn’t help but wonder if this was how she looked during sex.
He let his gaze and his imagination wander as she drank. Bewitched. That’s the only explanation he could come up with. There she stood, sweaty, possibly smelly, covered in dust and grime from head to toe and dressed up like Jennifer Beal’s welding stand-in for Flashdance. Why in the hell did he find her so attractive?
“You don’t want to burn out those beauties.” She took a couple steps to her workbench and rummaged around until she found what she was after. “Here you go.” Kiki turned and tossed a heavy pair of protective lenses his way then went back to her art before he caught them.
“I’d listen to her if I were you.” Andie materialized beside him like she apparated from Hogwarts. Jax jumped about a foot in the air and fumbled his heavy glasses. “Jeezus! How long have you been standing there?” His question was more demand than inquiry, but she rattled him so completely there was nothing he could do to retain any amount of cool. So he just went with it.
She smirked and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow before slinging an arm around his shoulders in camaraderie. “I told you she’s brilliant.”
Jax relaxed, looked back toward Kiki and her masterpiece, and smiled. “Mesmerizing.”
“Mesmerizing. Yeah, that’s a good word for her. She is that when she’s in the zone. Sometimes, she does this in the studio and makes the creation of it as much a part of the art as the finished product is.” Andie smiled fully then, and pride shone in her eyes. “Those pieces usually sell before they’re done and typically go for triple what her other works do. All of them are other mediums though. Welding and iron work requires eye protection, and boy do the sparks fly. Too risky in a studio environment.”
Jax was fascinated. “I bet. So, what other mediums?”
“Oh, you name it; my girl can create it. She’s a freakin’ artistic force of nature.”
Jax tore his gaze from the beauty in front of him and found himself captivated by a whole different kind of art then.
Every line of Andie’s face was perfect, even in the harsh unfiltered sunlight. Andie’s skin glowed with a healthy peachy tone. Her hair would give a Disney princess security issues, and her lush figure made him weak in the knees. If the woman had one inkling of the power she could wield over the male species, she’d overthrow the government and declare herself Queen Ruler Supreme.
Jax felt his heart rate not quicken but rather intensify so that he could feel every beat of it in every part of his body. Desire was what fueled him, he realized, a deep primal desire that he hadn’t felt to this degree for any other woman. He wanted her beneath him, over him, surrounding him. He wanted to sink into her plump, supple body the way he longed to plunge into the lake on hot August afternoons. She was a feast just beyond his reach. Andie was the oasis in a desert to his parched and desperate castaway. A delectable mirage just beyond his reach.
Jax’s gaze tracked when she gently rested a hand on her lower abdomen.
And she was carrying another man’s child.
“Fuck.”
“Sorry?” Andie turned to smile up at him. Her own heavy glasses looked like a throwback to the ‘80s, and Jax felt that warm tug at his heart he was getting used to feeling whenever she was around.
“Nothin’.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and took a moment to enjoy the silky texture of it before letting his hand drop. “Just accepting my fate.” Her brows wrinkled at him above her shades. “Okay, Risky Business, enough lollygagging for me. You called for a plumber. Here I am.”
“Well, thank you kindly, Riddick, but I asked you for a referral for a plumber. I didn’t mean for you to turn all Tim the Tool Man on me.”
“Tim the Tool Man?” He stepped nose-to-nose with her, fighting the grin that always teased at his mouth when she bantered with him. “Is that a dig? Are you implying I’m going to make things worse?”
Andie didn’t appear to be holding back her smile. It shined so bright he was glad he still had his shades on. She simply beamed at him. “You already cook, do chores, and manage the books for this place. I never thought for a second leaky faucets were also a part of your repertoire.”
“You’d be shocked at the number of tricks I have up my sleeve.” He dashed a thumb over her brow to smooth out the wrinkles her surprise was furrowing into them. Her hand reached for his and she twined their fingers together.
“I’m shocked you would think I’d let you add that title to the many you already carry around here. Honestly. You do too much.” Both her cool hands now held his one and she looked up into his eyes with such earnestness it’s no wonder he was unaware of Luke until the man spoke from right behind him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Luke’s mumble was as familiar to him as his own voice, and Jax felt those dueling emotions he always felt whenever the other man was around. Longing and hatred.
Longing for his childhood best friend.
Hatred at himself for throwing aside everything they had meant to each other.
Now, here Jax stood, literally caught between Luke and another pregnant girl they both wanted. What god did he piss off to deserve for this to always be his fate?
Jax turned to face Luke with the same hopeless acceptance he would a firing squad. “Top of the morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Oh shut up.” If exasperation could be considered a step up from loathing—which is what Andie kept insisting—then he and Luke were making progress. At least the guy no longer hurled pitchforks full of shit at him.
“Andie? You ready to go?”
Jax hated how Luke softened when he looked toward Andie. Everything the guy felt was always plain as day on his stupid, open face.
Jax cleared his throat. “Go? I didn’t know you had plans.” And now his own—to fix her drip then whisk her away for a picnic—were dashed to hell.
“Yeah, sorry, Jax. We have a doctor’s appointment today. I wish you would’ve called.” She made a pained face that was as clear for him to read as Luke’s. She hated being caught between the two of them and playing referee. Jax bit back his disappointment and plastered a bolstering smile in place for her.
“No worries. Honest. I’ll take a look at your sink and then—”
“Sink? What’s the matter with your sink?” Luke immediately headed for the house while simultaneously tugging at the tie he’d put on for the occasion.
“Wait. Luke? We don’t have time. Whoa! Not you too, Jax. Stop! Both of you!”
Jax picked up his pace when Luke did, determined to not let the fucker snake in on his brownie points. Luke noticed him coming and broke into a jog.
Andie trailed after the two of them, yammering about a plumber. Silly woman didn’t even realize that was like gas on the fire spurring them both on.
A shrill whistle rent the air like the wail of a tornado warning. The noise stopped them all in their tracks. Jax looked in astonished admiration at the pint-sized pixie in her welding gear as she dropped her hand from her lips. “Hey, Dumb and Dumber. I already fixed the sink, so you two are going to have to find some other way to win the hand of the fair maiden.” Then she dropped her face plate back in place and went back to welding.
While Andie clapped and shouted her thank yous to Kiki, Jax tried not to draw attention to the casual way he smoothed his clothing back into place. Until he noticed Luke fighting with his tie, not the least embarrassed about the lengths he’d been about to take to impress a gi
rl. So Jax gave up feeling sheepish and watched as Luke reversed course and snagged Andie by the elbow with a mumble about being late. Then he shuffled her into his Chevy before she managed more than a wave in Jax’s direction.
Jax watched Luke’s truck leave in a cloud of dust. Behind him, AC/DC was wailing about going all night long, and sparks were once again flying from the open shop doors. Jax didn’t even notice how thoughts of Andie and Luke drifted away as smoothly as the dust left in their wake. He just adjusted his shades and lost himself in the music, in the art, and in the little spitfire who wielded her torch like a magic wand.
“Hello, Andie, I’m Dr. Green. I understand you originally met with Dr. Shooster?” A beautiful woman with dark silky hair and the kindest brown eyes Andie had ever seen walked into the exam room. She had a crooked smile that immediately put Andie at ease.
“Yes. He was Uncle Wally’s doctor, so I went to him, because his was the only name I recognized. And he sent me to you.”
The woman exuded calm and confidence, and she felt a great well of gratitude for Dr. Shooster. Sweet as the old coot had been, Andie was blissfully grateful that it was going to be this competent and professional woman guiding her through this ordeal rather than a man who looked so ancient she felt compelled to tell him to sit down the first time she visited his office.
“I’m so very glad he did. He was the doctor who delivered me, you know.” Her smile warmed with the memory, and her affection for the other doctor was evident. “Doc Shooster is one of my very favorite people. He even wrote my letter of recommendation when I went to med school.” As she spoke, she didn’t scroll through her electronics or riffle through papers. She gave them her attention and made eye contact. The sense they had her undivided attention was so reassuring that Andie felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. The difference between this visit and the type of doctors she was used to seeing in the walk-in clinics and harried offices in her city was so vast she could hardly reconcile the contrasts.
“And this is your first pregnancy?” Dr. Green asked.
“Yes,” Andie said.
“No,” Luke said. Then turned bright red. “I mean. I have a son. Not with her. He’s nineteen.”
“Congratulations.” Her mouth pursed like she wanted to laugh at Luke’s bumbling nerves but was trying to hold back.
Luke actually flushed in pleasure and met Andie’s eyes. The heat in her face told Andie she looked just as giddy and excited as he did. Luke took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. She felt her blush deepen. This is going to work.
“My name’s Luke by the way. This is… well, hell, you already know who she is. I’m sorry. I’m going to stop talking now.” Luke backed into a stirrup, turned the color of a tomato when he recognized it, and Andie fell just a little bit in love at his muttered “Oh geez.”
Dr. Green sent her a coconspirator’s smile, and Andie decided she loved her just a little too. The doctor finally looked at the tablet in her hands, scrolled for a few minutes, and said, “Okay, it looks like you’re about fourteen weeks along, and all your vitals look normal. Go ahead and lie back. Let’s start by checking the heartbeat.”
Andie lay back and managed not to smirk at the way Luke fluttered around her. As though lying down was magically a difficult task now. She could do nothing to stop the eye roll. Both the eye roll and the smirk melted away when Luke clasped one of her hands in both of his and brought her fingers to his lips.
Andie was looking at Luke, not the monitor, when that first furious little flutter came over the speaker. The joy, the wonder, that first electrifying jolt was all there in his face. Every emotion she felt tearing through her heart was reflected in the eyes of her child’s father, and Andie let the tears come; if ever a moment called for tears, the first time you heard your baby’s heartbeat had to be in the top ten. That furiously fast thump thump thump drumming away inside her was a baby. Her baby. Luke made a sound, and as she caught him surreptitiously wiping the corner of his eye, her joy was complete. They were going to have a baby.
“God, did she have to stick her whole hand up there? I mean really!” Andie complained indignantly—and only partially kidding—on their way out of the doctor’s office loaded down with trial-sized everything from diapers to prenatal vitamins and stretch mark cream.
“I don’t think it was all—”
“I know what I felt! Don’t you dare try to speak up for her just ‘cause she’s pretty and was nice to you. She went clam digging down there! I almost peed all over her! That fucking hurt!”
“Boy, you’re really on a tear about this. You want to find a new doctor? I thought she was nice, but if you—” His hands, which were also full of samples and pamphlets, flopped at his sides as his shoulders shrugged.
“No, I don’t want a new doctor. I loved her. But. Ow. Okay, that really was awful.”
“If you could just give me a clue about what kind of response you’re hoping to get out of this little exchange right now, that’d be great. ‘Cause I really just don’t wanna say something stupid to piss you off. Since I don’t know what the hell is actually wrong, I don’t know what the right thing to say would be.” His rant finished on a frustrated grumble.
He looked fit to be tied, and Andie thought it was probably the first time she’d actually seen someone flummoxed. She burst out laughing.
“Luke?” The voice was shocked and all femme fatale.
“That’s Luke?” This voice was more blunt, lots of New York attitude in its sultry tones. “Oh lordy. Prenatals? Pampers? Holy shit. Are you telling me, nineteen years later, you’re still procreating? Holy shit, man. Get a hobby.” A leggy, slender black woman with close-cropped natural hair and a handbag that looked like a tiny boutique glared at him quizzically, as if she actually expected a response.
Luke had none to give her, because he couldn’t take his eyes off the blonde standing to her right. “Christy.”
Andie froze in shock for what felt like an eternity. “Christy? Logan’s mother Christy? That Christy?”
“I see some things never change, Luke.” Logan’s mother’s eyes darted from the pregnancy swag in his hands to Andie then to the boldly printed OB/GYN on the door behind them. Luke just continued to stand beside Andie, who was staring at his ex like she was a ghost.
“Um, hi.” Not knowing what else to do, Andie fumbled one hand free and extended it for a shake. “I’m Andie.” Since Christy continued to shoot eye daggers at Luke and completely ignored Andie, she swung her hand toward the stunning black woman next to her.
“A pleasure, I’m sure.” If the tone didn’t make a mockery of her words, the expression on her face sure conveyed it. “I’m Sharon.” Her fingers were long and her grip secure when she took Andie’s clammy hand in her cool one.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Luke’s voice was low. Deceptively so, for Andie felt the rage pumping off him in waves. He seemed barely able to rein it in.
“Momma’s sick. It was time for me to come home and see to her.” Tears gathered in her aquamarine eyes and glimmered there like jewels in the sunlight.
“See to selling off the farm, you mean.” It was a statement. Spoken with cutting cruelty and a disdain forged over almost two decades of singlehandedly raising the child she’d turned her back on. The words were a well-aimed arrow, and Andie watched them hit their mark, sending trembling tears falling down those porcelain cheeks.
Sharon’s expression hardened, and she glared up at Luke with open hostility. “Hey! You don’t know a damn thing about the woman standing in front of you right now. Believe me, the only thing she has in common with the girl you used to know is that she still has the good sense to steer clear of you.” She grabbed the silently weeping Christy by the elbow and started tugging her across the street. “Asshole.”
Andie watched the two women’s hasty departure with barely contained curiosity. She had so many questions right now. From the look on Luke’s face, none of them were appropriate at the moment however, so A
ndie swallowed them back with a grimace and rubbed a hand on his arm. “You okay, Luke? What can I do? What do you need?” The tender expression he gave her made Andie glad she’d squelched her inner Mrs. Kravitz. The man looked blindsided. She hooked her arm through his and started them in the opposite direction. “Come on. Let’s go grab some lunch.”
“Well, that couldn’t have gone worse.”
Sharon gave Christy the look that comment deserved. “Yes, it could’ve,” she contradicted. “I could’ve punched him in his smug, superior face.” The fury was still swimming just under her calm surface. Christy had warned her, hadn’t she? Long before they agreed to come here, Christy confessed everything to Sharon. She told her about running away in the middle of the night, leaving not just her man and parents behind but her baby too. It was the number one tool she used to beat herself up with.
“The worst part’s over now, right?” Sharon gave Christy’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “The cat’s out of the bag, and within the hour, this whole town is going to know you’re back. And that you’re gay,” she added under her breath.
“You know that part has never been a problem for me.” All the tension she didn’t know she was holding melted away when Christy met her gaze and returned the encouraging squeeze. “You being here with me is the only reason I’m strong enough to face them all.”
So she’d said. Over and over. Insisting that what they had was real. But Sharon wasn’t naïve or stupid.
Christy was a shallow, spoiled doll of a woman. She loved to be the center of attention, in the eye of any storm, and more than anything, she wanted to be loved like a princess on a pillow. Sharon wasn’t blind to Christy’s faults; she was enamored by them. Though most of her friends were worried for her, Sharon saw her and Christy as kind of a modern-day Rhett and Scarlett. Only her Scarlett had a wounded and tender heart beneath that fiercely sparkling surface.