“Hey, I’m his mother,” Phoebe interjected. “I’m legally required to forgive him. I think Joey has a right to make him squirm. If I weren’t such a wonderful, enlightened, biologically-obligated woman, I’d be holding a bit of a grudge, too.”
“Did Jax ever tell anyone why he left?” Gia asked.
Phoebe met Joey’s gaze before shaking her head. “As far as I know, no. But he must have had a good reason. The night of the accident he refused to leave your side. He wouldn’t even let the nurses stitch him up.” Phoebe cleared her throat. “Your father didn’t, ah … agree with Jax’s presence. John was trying to find a doctor and your mother and I thought we were going to have to call security on them.”
“What happened?” Joey asked despite herself.
“You woke up and told them to knock it off,” Phoebe said with a wry smile. “You took your dad’s hand and Jax’s hand and that was the end of it.”
Joey’s memories from that night were pretty foggy. But one thing was clear to her, something that night had made Jax decide to leave Blue Moon Bend. She wasn’t sure if she believed as Phoebe did, that there was a very good reason for it.
“On that note, let’s change the subject to something that doesn’t involve penises,” Joey said, jumping up and heading for the blender. “For instance, how crazy is it that Summer I-Plan-Everything doesn’t want to know the babies’ genders? How’s the house building, Phoebe? And what’s new at the studio, Gia? Tie anyone up in knots, yet?”
The conversation mercifully moved away from Jackson Pierce.
They topped off glasses and refilled plates while Phoebe told them that the floor plans had been finalized and building would begin in April. She was in the middle of explaining the bunkhouse to Emma and Eva when Joey’s phone signaled a text from Jax.
Canyou meet me on the porch?
Joey frownedat the screen and looked at her front door.
“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.
Joey shook her head and got out of her chair. “Nothing, I’ll be right back.” She ducked out the door, closing it behind her. Jax was standing on the porch steps his breath a cloud in the soft glow of the porch light. He had one hand behind his back.
She crossed her arms to ward off the chill. “You’re interrupting Girls Night, Ace.”
He smiled, that slow, sexy, underwear-disintegrating smile. “I have something for you.”
“I already got the bacon.” The roses were a beautiful cliché, but the bacon? God that man knew her vices.
“Something else. Something you’ve wanted for a long time.”
“Don’t you dare take your pants off,” she hissed. “There’s a houseful of women staring at you!”
“Interesting and flattering that that’s where your mind goes, but I’m talking about this,” he tugged on a green lead he had tucked behind his back. A wire-haired mutt scampered up the steps stopping neatly at her feet. The dog was wriggling with excitement.
“This is Waffles,” Jax said. “He’s yours.”
Waffles stared up at her with bi-colored eyes, his furry head cocked like he was waiting for her to say something.
“You got me a dog?” Joey asked incredulously. “A dog named Waffles?” The dog’s tail swished.
“As soon as I saw his name I knew he was yours.”
He remembered. Jax remembered. She had been nine when she asked for a dog for her birthday. When that day came and went without a four-legged best friend, Joey had started saving her allowance for a dog.
After months of saving, she sat down at the breakfast table, her mason jar stuffed full of allowance, and asked her father to take her to the rescue in town. That morning was the first time her father really let her down.
He’d refused. Told her he wasn’t going to let her waste her money on some flea-bitten mutt. They didn’t need a dog in the house and they sure as hell weren’t going to get one.
Jax had found her later that morning pouring her heart out to one of the ponies in his family’s barn and when he finally coaxed the story out of her, he announced that he’d share his dog with her. And he had. They’d spent hours together training the reluctant Pancake, a lazy lab content to spend his days swimming in the pond and sleeping on the porch.
She’d always meant to get herself a dog after college, but had never gotten around to it.
“Hi, Waffles,” she said, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice. Waffles’ scraggly tail thumped on the porch boards and he scooted an inch closer to her. Joey knelt down and stroked Waffles’ head.
“I can’t believe you got me a dog,” she said again.
