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“Well now, a woman changing a tire in heels,” a smooth male voice says from behind me. “Impressive. As capable as you look, ma’am, can I offer you a hand?”
My heart skips a beat, and the wrench falls from my hands with a clatter. I’d know that voice anywhere. It plagues my memories and dreams. As determined as I was to come back to Bisbee and face the owner of that voice with confidence and poise, I find myself frozen, drowning in emotions, and speechless in the presence of Jaxon Wyle.
Chapter Five
JAXON
Eight Years Earlier
I just got dumped and it feels great. I walk down main street a free man. No more overly jealous rants, no more having to prove my loyalties, no more getting yelled at for the smallest thing. And even though it has only been a couple hours, I’ve decided that single life is the best life.
The year-round Christmas lights zigzag over a street lined by old buildings with antique shops, art galleries, bars, and cafes. Every month Bisbee, Arizona, has a new theme to bring in tourists. It helps keep the town alive. This weekend’s theme happens to be Aloha in Bisbee, which means all the girls are wearing short shorts or cute little Hawaiian print dresses. Not a bad start to the summer—especially now that I’m free to flirt all I want.
I spot my friends, Brock and Isaac, waiting for me just outside the coffee shop. Brock wears a T-shirt with a tanned, overly muscled torso on it and a pair of Hawaiian print shorts. The shirt hangs loose over his tall, thin frame. Isaac, who’s a good two inches shorter that Brock, has a Billabong shirt with a hang-loose hand on it.
I chuckle. “Nice shirt, Schwarzenegger.” I nudge Brock.
He smiles and jabs my torso. “Not all of us have the real thing.” He shrugs. “Besides, the chicks like it.”
Isaac shakes his head. “Just because they’re laughing, doesn’t mean they like it.”
Brock gestures to my clothes: Wranglers, boots, and black t-shirt. My typical attire. “You not in the festive mood?”
I brush dust from my shirt. “On the contrary,” I say. I haven’t felt this good in months. “I didn’t have time to change. Just got done training a new colt.” Ranch work might give me muscles, but it isn’t kind to my wardrobe.
The three of us set off toward the open stage that sits on top of the old cemetery. It’s not a cemetery anymore, of course, not since a huge storm started washing bodies into the streets of Bisbee. That was when the town decided it was time to move the bodies to a non-flooding spot. They built a park and a stage on top of the old site, because what better place to have a bunch of kids play than on top of Great Grandma’s old resting place? Tonight they’ve set up the evening’s entertainment at the stage. If there are any old ghosts hanging around, hopefully they enjoy Hawaiian dancing.
As the sun makes its descent in the sky, the streets become more crowded, and we have to weave through the foot traffic.
“How did it go with Brittany?” Isaac asks.
They knew I was planning to talk to Brittany about her latest outburst. She freaked out on me yesterday when I got her a drink from the coffee shop. Yelled at me for a good five minutes about how I was flirting with the barista. I tried to tell her it wasn’t my fault the girl found me irresistible and left her number on the cup. I just have that effect on girls with no added effort on my part. Telling her this only led to more yelling and the contents of her cup over my head. I’m still confused as to how things escalated so quickly.
When I went to apologize and smooth things over today, she broke up with me. She told me there was no point in carrying on any longer because she’s planning to move to New York in a couple of months and it’s obvious I don’t have the maturity for a long-distance relationship. She said some other stuff about outgrowing me, but to be honest, I was so surprised by the rush of relief that washed over me that I tuned out after that.
“She dumped me,” I say.
They both laugh, but when I don’t join them, Brock says, “Seriously?”
I shrug. “Yeah, man.”
“Yes!” Isaac pumps his arm in the air. “No more psycho-chick.”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “She wasn’t that bad.” I might be glad that the relationship is over, but that doesn’t mean I want to go bashing Brittany.
Isaac’s jaw drops, and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Yes. Yes, she was. She slashed your tires when she saw you hug your cousin Samantha.”
I wince and shrug. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“It was a misdemeanor,” he counters.
We pass some older guys drinking on the balcony of the Queen Mary Inn all dressed in matching kilts—a bachelor party. I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor sap about to get married. Being single is so much easier.
“Wow,” Brock runs a hand through his hair. “Jaxon Wyle got dumped. I mean if it happened to you, then there’s no hope for us.”
I step around a few stoners and hold my breath for a moment—trying not to get a contact high from the distinct smell coming off them. “It’s not so bad getting dumped. You don’t have to hurt anyone’s feelings, and you still get your freedom. Win-win if you ask me.”
Isaac kicks a rock and drops his head a little. “Yeah, well, wait until it happens when your heart is involved. Not so fun then.”
