"She would love to," Charity says, cutting me off with her biggest smile aimed right at Jaxon, and I could kill her. I could reach over and choke her out right here on the church lawn in front of God and the entire congregation. When her paw reaches out and wraps around his bicep, squeezing firmly, he looks down at it and grins, then clocks my angry scowl directed at her.
He smirks and almost snickers, and he probably thinks I'm jealous. I'm not, obviously, but the distance between reality and truth is shockingly large right now. I can't put the toothpaste back in the tube, though I try by gritting my teeth and shaking my head. But Charity is right on it.
"She's been talking about you all morning, Jaxon. And don't worry, it's all good." Those bubbly blue eyes and pouty, full red lips are gonna get a good smacking the instant Jaxon walks away. I swear—she needs to mind her own business.
Jaxon looks at me with his eyebrows raised, checking, because at least he has the decency to make sure I'm not being volunteered against my will. But what am I supposed to say now? No, actually, I can't get coffee with you because I have a seven-year-old daughter with your eyes and your jawline and if you see her, you're going to figure out exactly why I've been avoiding you? That's not an option. So I swallow hard and force a smile.
"Sure. Tuesday works."
"Tuesday it is." He nods and takes another sip of punch. The look in his eye is lingering and tender—the Jaxon I used to know. It melts me for a second as I see the man I was in love with, the one I still feel a flicker of attraction to, and then the bell rings behind us, thirty kids take off screaming into the field, and the moment breaks. "I'll let you get back to it," he says, stepping away.
I watch him walk off across the lawn toward Roger, who claps him on the shoulder and says something that makes Jaxon's jaw tighten. And I wait until he's far enough away before I turn on Charity.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Forget watching my language—this woman is a bur in my saddle and I can't stand the fact that she's so damn smug.
Charity blinks, startled, her deviled egg frozen halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"You don't get to just sign me up for things, Charity. That's not your call."
"I was trying to help. You two were making eyes at each other so hard I thought the air was gonna catch fire?—"
"We were not making eyes at each other." I stomp my foot and clench my hands at my sides, and I feel Leah moving closer.
"Babe." She puts a hand on my arm. "You kind of were."
"I was not," I say defensively, pulling my arm away and taking a breath because I'm making a scene. People are starting to stare again, and Charity's face has gone from excited to embarrassed. She sets the deviled egg down on her plate and looks at the ground.
"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I didn't mean to overstep. I just thought… I mean, you've been single for so long, and he's clearly into you, and?—"
"Charity. Stop."
Leah gives me a look that says calm down, and I know she's right. I know I'm overreacting, and I know Charity didn't mean any harm. But she doesn't understand what she just did.
"Mama!" Mercy comes running up with her basket full of eggs, her dress stained green at the knees and one shoe untied. "I got eleven! I got the most!" Her beautiful face is beaming with pride and joy, but I've hit my limit for this outing, and now that the festivities are over, I have to get out of here. I can't afford to let Jaxon see me with her.
"That's amazing, baby." I crouch down and hug her. Over her shoulder I can see Jaxon across the field. For a split second, I think he's looking this way, but I can't tell from this distance. I pull Mercy tighter, press my face into her hair, and try to figure out what the hell I'm going to do about Tuesday.
"Let's go home and crack them open and see what we got, huh?" I say, and Mercy is all grins.
"Can we do it at Nana and Pop's?" She takes my hand, and Leah offers a sympathetic expression as Charity slinks off looking sullen.
"Anything you want, baby," I mumble, grinding my teeth.
All it takes is one wrong shred of gossip to get out and Jaxon will be at my doorstep demanding answers.
I'm not ready for any of this.
7
JAXON
Dad's on the phone when I come out of the bathroom, and he's not happy about something. He's pacing the kitchen in his socks with one hand on his hip, the other pressing the phone hard against his ear. But he's sober, maybe for the first time since I got home.
"I told you already, I'm not interested in your goddamn offer. You can send all the paperwork you want, it's going straight in the trash." He pauses, listening, and I can tell he's about two seconds from losing it. "Then let them. I don't care what the council says. This is my property."
I lean against the hallway door frame and wait. I'm dressed for the coffee date in a dark henley and clean jeans, which isn't exactlyGQmaterial but it's a step up from the wrinkled T-shirts I've been rotating through all week. I'm just happy Emily's friends spoke for her and I got this little rendezvous planned. I could tell she was going to say no if they let her.
Dad hangs up without saying goodbye and tosses the phone on the counter. He stands there for a second with both hands flat onthe surface, breathing hard through his nose. Whatever this is, I have a feeling it's about some of those stacked-up bills, or maybe a client of the company he's pissed off somehow.
