Chapter Eight

J ill had gone to the Deer Creek Public Library to work for two reasons. One, she wouldn't have to watch Gander and Lily canoodle at Maggie and Bennett's feet while they canoodled each other. Jill could only contain so much jealousy at the rest of the town's good fortune. Fortune that seemed determined to allude her.

The second reason was because the afternoon light streamed through the stained-glass skylight, sending colors cascading down around her. It was one of about a dozen gems she'd discovered around town. Between the boutique cowgirl shop on Third Street that made Jill feel like she'd died and gone to fashion heaven, the convention center where the CAF would be held—a historic building with old-school Texas charm in every brick—and the high school engineering teacher who'd met with Jill twice to discuss the internship both women were equally excited about, there wasn't much not to love about this town.

Mae's obviously topped the list; Jill had even swung by there on the way to the library to see if Mayor of Deer Creek Gossip had heard anything about her handsome but elusive neighbor.

Nothing.

And now she wasn't even working. If Mae didn't know anything about Jax, no one did. Distraction won over. Jill dipped into the courtyard and dialed Maggie on video chat.

"Hey! Where are you? I don't see any movement at your house, and I was starting to get worried. Is the work overwhelming you?"

"No. I'm good there. I just came to the library for a change of scene. Got a second?"

"Of course. Bennett's grocery shopping, and I'm so bored. Give me all the dirt."

She started with Gander and Jax's disappearance, then dove into work stuff that was relatively benign.

"Okay. I'm confused. You mean to tell me your dog is knocked up by one dog but being cared for by another, my brother-in-law is missing, and my baler motor shipment is late?" Maggie asked.

Jill's jaw twitched at my .

"That sums it all up. I've tried to fix the last one. I'll keep you posted, but there's nothing I can do about the rest and I'm going nuts trying to anyway."

"Wow. Sorry, hon."

"It's fine."

Jill stared across the courtyard. A bird hopped in search of something—food, perhaps? Jill felt like she'd been aimlessly wandering herself since she'd arrived in Deer Creek, but in a way that made her feel less lost and more like she was simply finding her own rhythm.

But now, with her faults listed out loud, she wasn't sure what to do. Lily was one thing—the vet confirmed she was due later that week and that Gander latching on meant he'd be a good stepfather of sorts to the puppies. Never mind that meant her puppy now had a permanent follower at her ankles.

But the worry sitting just below Jill's skin wasn't about her dog so much as Jax's disappearance. All he'd told Bennett, apparently, was that he needed some time to figure stuff out after her fight with him the other day.

A fight she'd regretted as soon as she started it. To be honest, she'd been excited to see him if for no other reason than she missed him. And all she wanted was some clarity about their fun at the creek. Did he like what happened, too? Did he want it to happen again?

If not, she would've understood. All she needed was a grown-up conversation.

Instead, his lack of communication had concocted a lethal cocktail of worry and rejection in her stomach, and she'd lashed out unfairly.

Hurt disguised as anger was an easier pill to swallow, but it didn't change the outcome. She'd driven off an amazing guy because he'd taken some time to figure out what he needed, a perfectly reasonable request.

It'd been three days since anyone had laid eyes on the guy, and Jill wasn't sure what to do next. Not just personally but with their tenuous work partnership, too. The orders were behind, but the bigger concern was the rescheduling of the CAF presentations; they'd be co-presenting with the engineering and ranching clubs from the high school now. If they didn't get on it immediately, everything would pile up, until the whole structure toppled.

She'd call her dad for advice, but her folks were on a cruise for the month in the Arctic, and I told you so was the last thing she needed to hear.

Which meant radio silence from every last person in her life, except Maggie, who couldn't go anywhere because of her pregnancy complications.

Ugh. She never should've kissed Jax in the first place. She knew better.

It wasn't like Jill was inexperienced when it came to men or that she never went out, but anything so tempting and frivolous as a date always came behind the laundry list of to-dos smattering her calendar.

For good reason, apparently.

She touched a fingertip to her lips.

But, oh lordy. It was the single best kiss of my life. She wasn't sure she'd actually take it back, except…

The kiss sent the man sidestepping out of sight for half a week—not really a sign he'd liked it, too.

"So, what now?" Jill asked. Maggie sent her a how the hell should I know ? look through twisted lips and a creased brow.

"He'll come back and talk to you about it. This isn't like him, but I'll bet the baby's inheritance it wasn't because of the kiss or the fight. That's not Jax's MO. Take a deep breath and exhale on a three-count."

"Okay, pregnant momma. Lamaze doesn't work for idiots who kiss their work associates and make them run away. Besides, I didn't mean what I should do about Jax, but yeah, knowing my kiss sent him on a sabbatical is a pretty solid guarantee I won't go doing it again with anyone."

"Was it a good kiss?"

Um, no. It was brilliant. Life-changing. And so was laughing and talking with him. The whole damn day had upended what she knew about life and work and the balance between the two, and with a light summer breeze—well, and two curious black bears—it was gone. Evaporated into thin air like it never happened. Heck, even the man himself was MIA.

"For me, but then I'm not the one with sprinting shoes and an invisibility cloak."

"It'll be fine. I'm sure he liked it, too. How could he not? You're the hottest, most successful person I've ever met."

"Who apparently kisses like crap. The worst part is, he's coming back at night, or someone is. His truck is there until I get up the next morning, and then it's gone again. The man would've done well on a college track team the way he sprinted away from me."

Grace had been candid a few weeks ago about Bennett's habit of plowing safe passage for those he loved. But even she couldn't have seen Jax's departure coming.

"It's weird. Jax always talked about leaving for the rodeo when he was a teen, back when he'd have followed Nora anywhere, but he always showed up for Bennett first. And the fact that he's coming home at night is odd."

"Who is Nora?" Jill asked.

She tried for nonchalant, but her whole body went rigid with jealousy. The bird in the courtyard found a piece of a chip and flew away. Oh, if only Jill could be satisfied so easily. But she'd settled for scraps before never and would again.

Maggie giggled. "No one to worry about. Just a high-school crush with a penchant for leaving that outrivaled Jax's. She left him high and dry when her dad didn't approve, and it kinda broke him when it came to dating."

Jill covered her face with her free hand and groaned into her palms. Maggie mimed rubbing her back, already a good mom despite her worry that without an example since her mother died so young, she wouldn't know what to do.

I wish I were sticking around so I could help her out, even just with her confidence.

You can, you know , her head offered. She moved the business here; there's no reason you can't relocate and commute to the warehouse and factories when you need to.

Maybe. But not if her presence was going to send the Marshall empire screaming into the abyss. A lot rode on the next few days.

If—and this was turning into a big if—Jax came back, hopefully, they could find a fragile peace and pretend this whole thing hadn't happened between them.

You can do that? her heart interjected this time. Pretend you didn't kiss that man and it flipped your world?

Fickle organs. Her head overthought everything while her heart felt enough emotion to sink a cargo ship. Everything just needed to quiet down and let her gut guide her like it had faithfully all these years.

All it felt right now was nausea, though. Bleh.

"Sorry."

Jill waved Maggie off. It wasn't like she was interested in dating him.

Liar , her head, heart, and gut all agreed at the same time.

Traitors.

"See? That's even more proof I was an idiot. Even if he didn't treat me like I've got the black plague, he's not interested in dating, period. I'm not so desperate I'm going to chase a man who wants nothing to do with me."

That was only a half truth.

Jill hummed a sigh. She might not have seen any of the guy during the past few days, but her traitorous mind drummed up his strong, corded forearms, his rippled back, and that crooked smile every night.

Maybe it was a good thing Jax wasn't there. Maybe he'd already started his other job and Jill wouldn't have to pretend that she didn't really like him—enough to consider being with and moving for him. But then, she'd always had a propensity for falling for the wrong man, hadn't she?

"This is silly. I'm not fourteen. Like you said, I'm a successful, working woman who doesn't need a man to be happy."

"I said hot working woman, but yes. I stand by my statement. Men don't hurt when it comes to having orgasms, though."

An orgasm from Jax… Jill shivered. Oh my gawd.

No use going there now , she warned her stomach, which had started to do flips in anticipation. He didn't even like kissing me.

"Well, help me think of the other stuff, the stuff I can control," Jill asked.

"Like the business?"

"Sure. Or the New York Nets or the stock market. Anything but beautiful men who are off-limits."

Maggie laughed and Jill glanced back at her screen. At the bottom of the frame, she caught a glimpse of Gander lying next to Lily. Look at those two. They were sweet as Mae's vanilla tarts and as mismatched as her and Jax. It was possible to find happiness with someone different, but it was a far more complex issue when it came to human romantic relationships.

Opposites might attract, but they also created vast canyons difficult to traverse.

"I need a break, actually. Work can wait. If Bennett doesn't mind, that is." Bennett ironically had been filling in for his absentee brother the past few days.

"Not one bit. There's not much to do with the orders until we figure out the motor supply chain issue in Dallas, and that's out of our control. You already notified the customers who are waiting for equipment?"

Jill nodded and shut her computer down. "Yep. Sent them a 10 percent future rebate to thank them for their patience, too."

"Wow. Thanks." Maggie stood and winced, seeming to think better of whatever she'd been about to do. She'd been so sick the past few weeks with the pregnancy but handled it like a seasoned mom, hardly uttering a word of complaint. "You're pretty darn good at this, Jilly."

The internship idea sat at the tip of her tongue, but it wasn't the right time to worry her friend with the details, which were numerous and tenuously connected.

"I learned from the best."

"Nope. I may have kicked off this adventure, but you've helped take it to the level it's at now. I don't know how to thank you."

Even though that was true, Jill bit the corner of her bottom lip. Their mutual respect was understood, but it didn't hurt to hear how much Maggie valued her work, work Jill valued in return.

"No thanks necessary. I'm grateful to you for giving me a job when I needed something to break free of my folks after college. I'm in your debt forever."

Maggie's eyes misted. Another side effect of the pregnancy hormones.

Good grief, it'd been a long month. The first half had gone so fast as she got to know Jax and found her stride with the new Steel Born initiative. But now, it dragged on, her only tether to time the middle of the night when she'd wake to find his truck there. Her heart would pound, and her body recalled what it was like to feel him against her. Sleep would come again fitfully, leaving her tired each morning.

Was there some pill she could take to forget this man once and for all?

Lily got up and waddled out of the house through the ample-sized dog door. Despite the ramifications of Lily's unexpected pregnancy, Gander had been relentlessly adorable about watching over Lily ever since they'd arrived, bringing her treats and scraps of food from Jax's ranch house. And regardless of who the father was, Lily was such an adorable expecting mom.

"I swear she's smiling," Jill declared. "Honestly, you two pregnant ladies are too cute for words."

But the fact that Gander was a Marshall pup tied Jill to Jax in yet another way. Jill had told Maggie a small lie a moment ago. Jax snuck by every evening to check on the pups and bring Gander's food since he wasn't leaving Lily's side, and then hightailed it out of there fast enough to leave skid marks in his wake. Jill had started setting a midnight alarm so she could catch him in the act.

Okay, so maybe she was just a hint of desperate.

"Why does Jax actually get under your skin so much?" Maggie asked. She sat up straighter, a shine in her eyes. A few patrons came out to join Jill in the unexpected sunshine. It was warmer today than it had been all week, and Deer Creek residents seemed to sense it might be the last nice day until spring.

"Hi, Jill," one of them whispered.

"Hi, Mr. Croke," she whispered back, covering the receiver. He dipped his chin and tipped a Stetson that looked to be an original.

The sweet old man was a third-generation farmer who'd come to Kerry's Thai restaurant the other night and ended up sitting with Jill at the bar. He'd shared his rich personal history with her, including being forced to sell his land when none of his children wanted to take over the family business. He'd been happy to sell to Bennett who would steward the land with respect, but the end of Mr. Croke's lifelong pursuit reminded her of what she'd done to her parents. It was more complicated than a man losing his dream; if he hadn't, his children would have had to give up theirs.

Mr. Croke would be the emcee at the first day of the CAF, so he kept busy. Still, by the end of her meal, Jill had been sad to say goodbye to him.

"I just told you."

"You gave me a couple idiotic reasons, sure. But what's the real story?"

"He and I are just different." Maggie opened her mouth to reply, but Jill shook her head. "Not in the adorable, opposites-attract kind of way. When he's not missing altogether, he's actively trying to get out of the life I'm trying to build for myself. It doesn't exactly make us good work partners."

That was closer to a three-quarter truth, but the full gospel was more complicated. The underlying physical attraction pulsing between them only threw into stark relief another reason she needed to keep her distance.

"I see what you mean," Maggie said, leaning back in her nook on the couch. "You're driven, you want a life you design for yourself, and you don't want to be beholden to your parents' dreams. Yeah, you're totally on opposite wavelengths."

Jill's phone tipped as she let that sink in. She caught it at the last second before it dropped to the terra-cotta tile lining the courtyard.

"Wait—"

"No, you wait. Jax is a tough sell, I get it. But he's in the same place you were when I met you and gave you a chance with the company. And don't think I wasn't terrified to put my hopes and dreams in the hands of a woman who might change her mind and go back to work for the job her family was holding for her."

"But I didn't," Jill whispered.

Maggie smiled. "I know. Because I gave you a chance to figure out what you wanted. Maybe you could cut the guy a little slack and ask more questions? You know, like I asked you. I'm not saying you should be with him—my suggestion to give him time to earn a place in your life still stands. But don't write him off altogether, either."

Jill's brows twisted, as did her lips.

Maggie was right on one count. Jill understood Jax's need to break free from the family business; after all, wasn't that exactly what she'd done? How could she fault him for sharing the same desire to make a name for himself free of his family's influence?

And yet—what he'd said to her about being loyal to his family when they needed him was a needle in her chest, poking and prodding the most sensitive parts of her.

That was where they differed most—she'd never considered staying to help her parents until they found someone trustworthy enough to hand their livelihood over to. So what did that say about her?

No, she couldn't blame Jax for her shortcomings as a daughter, but she didn't have to let him rub her nose in it, either.

"I hate you," she said.

Maggie grinned. She didn't believe a word of it, thank goodness. "No, you don't. I'm your best friend and I'm pregnant. You aren't allowed to hate me."

"Well, I can be mad at you for pointing out the truth I was trying to avoid."

"Nope." Maggie shook her head, her smile growing with each of Jill's squirms. "That's my job as said best friend. To call you on your crap."

"Well, consider it called." Jill walked to the corner of the courtyard when she recognized one of Mae's faithful minions, Mrs. Gregory, leaning closer. "So, what do I do from here?"

"You reach out with an olive branch when he gets back from wherever he's going every day."

"Or in Jax's case, a six-pack of IPA and a steak?"

The giggle and hiccup that escaped Maggie was on brand.

"Exactly. See? You know him pretty well. Now, come home and put on The Princess Bride and rub my feet since that's your job as my best friend."

"As you wish."

Once Jill had put away work, gone home, and helped Maggie get up to bed, she was left with her thoughts. And they weren't good.

On one hand, Jax was kind, funny, and attentive. On the other, he was a flight risk. And that was one area the two were as different as wine and water.

She yawned. A glance at the home screen told her it was past ten, and in ranching life, that was practically midnight. Which meant it was almost time for Jax's secret sojourn. She hopped up to turn off the lights.

Her phone chimed.

Jax's name caused her pulse to kick up a notch. He'd reached out. Maybe this was his way of saying he was done hiding in the shadows and was coming back to work.

And maybe, just maybe, coming back to me?

She swiped into the message, her greedy fingers tingling.

" Hey. Left you something on the porch. Hope this doesn't wake you, but I saw a light on. "

Jill shot up off the couch and tore open the front door.

At her feet was a wicker basket wrapped in cellophane. What looked like a plush pillow, a bag of dog food, and a bag of puppy treats, topped the massive pile of items in the basket.

A canine pregnancy gift basket.

She turned on the porch light and saw a shadowed figure halfway down the drive.

"Jax!" she hissed. But the figure didn't stop, so she ran after him, breathless by the time she got there. "Jax, stop. Please," she whispered.

He turned around. The moonlight cast his features into relief, chiseling them more than they already were.

"Oh, hey. Did I wake you? Sorry, I just got… back," he hedged. "And I wanted you to have this before tomorrow since it looks like it won't be long till she pops."

She winced at the word pop but recovered with a smile.

"Thanks. It's nice."

He shrugged. "It's nothing. Just puppy support. Since we're half responsible, you know."

Such a sweet, simple gesture. Suddenly, she was in front of Jax, her palms pressed against his chest, her chin tilted up to meet his gaze.

She was powerless to stop herself. It was so good to have him back at all.

Her lips met his, but where there'd been desire and curiosity and passion in their last kiss, now she was met with only firm hands on her shoulders, pushing her back.

"I can't."

She bit her bottom lip, heat shifting from her lips to behind her eyes.

"It's not because I don't want to. I do. Kissing you was the highlight of my damn year. Decade even."

"It was?" Her eyes still stung with the immediacy of the rejection.

He chuckled, but any hint at humor was missing from the empty gesture. "Doesn't that figure? I find you when everything has changed. Jill, I'm sorry. For all of it."

She took a step toward him, but he kept the distance between them. "Don't be. We can work out whatever's going on. Just talk to me."

"I can't. Not yet."

"Okay, then I'll wait." He had to feel the sparks shooting between them like live wires sat too close together.

So much for not being desperate , her head grumbled.

"Please don't make this harder than it is. I like you, Jill. A lot. But I won't be here long. Maybe another month."

She shot back as if the energy buzzing between them had ignited.

"You're leaving before the winter ride?" Of all the possibilities, she hadn't considered he'd actually do it, actually leave his family just before he became an uncle. What a stupid oversight on her part.

He nodded, silent.

"To the new job?"

Jax shook his head, a sardonic smile where there should've been fear of unemployment. "I start right after the CAF closes down shop. The offer I got a while back from a rodeo team in central Texas that is too good to pass up, but I can't keep it forever, not with—not with how things are now. After that, though, I'm a free agent."

"Rodeo?!" She laughed, but like his from earlier, it was laced with irony. "Ha! You'll die out there—the guys are half your age on the circuit."

"That's not what I'll be—"

"But I knew this was coming, didn't I? You said you hated your job, your life here, that you'd taken a job, so why would a couple kisses—damn good kisses, I might add—change your mind?"

It wasn't the playful arrogance he carried like a jacket around his shoulders. Nor was it the fact that he'd left a fabulously successful career without anything in its place. No, it was the carefree, whatever-happens shrug she used to find adorable. That he thought he could do whatever he wanted without regard for the consequences.

Probably because for him, there wouldn't be any.

As the only child of the Henleys, and a daughter no less, expectation sat on her chest like a weighted vest. Because even if she didn't take over the company, she was still a Henley and everything she did or said was scrutinized.

"So what? This was your idea of a going-away present?" She gestured to the basket behind her. Her bottom lip trembled with the effort of swallowing the rage sitting at her sternum. "Nice, Jax. Real nice."

"Wait. What am I missing here?" he asked. "This isn't about you, that's what I'm saying. I'm dropping off food so I'm not a deadbeat asshole and I'm the bad guy? Jill, whatever this is, or was, between us, can't happen. And it's not you—"

"Jesus, Jax, at least come up with something original. And you might've dropped off food, but you're leaving me to deal with a brood of puppies alone. Not to mention the multimillion-dollar deal between Steel Born and MBE that will continue beyond the fair. Should I just say goodbye now?"

Confusion blossomed in his furrowed brows and the corner of his lip he drew between his teeth. "Jill, the deal will be long over, the machinery will be delivered to each ranch, and, hell, ranchers will even have a full week to check out the equipment before I go. I wouldn't make you handle it on your own."

"What about Lily? I'm supposed to set up the adoption process while I'm single-handedly running Maggie's business?"

"I'll get Bennett or my mom to pitch in. It'll be okay. Or you could just let the two lovebirds raise their pups."

"You're kidding, right?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept her gaze. Her skin erupted in goose pimples under his scrutiny.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Um, because if everything is done here," and she did mean everything, "I'll be going back to the city. Which means Lily will, too. What, should they share custody? It's not even Gander's puppies. Why should he get any claim to them?"

Jax winced, the fight all but gone from his slumped shoulders, his weary eyes. She didn't mean what she'd said about Gander raising the dogs—stepparenting was a noble pursuit. But she was hurt and mad and incapable of taking it back.

"I don't know what to tell you. I've got bigger horns to wrangle than two puppies who love each other and are about to start a family, even if it is unconventional. I didn't consider you heading back to the city, but I'm sure everyone here will help with that."

"Of course, you didn't think of me leaving. Because you react rather than plan and act according to what will be best for everyone."

But all you had to do was ask me to stay and I'd have done it.

She squared her shoulders and tossed her hair back over her shoulders, ignoring the cold night air that enveloped her. She tried to also forget the lancing sting of her words, but each one landed like a fatal blow, taking its toll on Jax.

She'd never seen him so defeated, so despondent, and the rings under his eyes said exhaustion was close behind. Still, she couldn't turn off the vitriol when it was the only thing left to fight for.

"I don't." His voice was calm, while she worried if she spoke again hers would waver and give away the ache in her chest that opened up when he said they had to wrap up… whatever this partnership-slash-kissing-friends thing was. "I know it seems that way to you, and I'm sorry if my choosing a different path upsets you, but I've been making this move for a couple of years now. Yeah, the timing got moved up, but I hope you know I wouldn't go if I didn't think it was the only option. I meant what I said about liking kissing you. But I just… I can't."

She nodded. She knew it.

Then why was heat building behind her eyes? It couldn't only be that he was leaving—she'd known that particular inevitability for the past month. And it wasn't like she was sticking around Deer Creek forever, either.

Her lips burned with memory, and she fought the desire to trace where Jax had kissed them with a passion they'd never known.

No, that isn't it. I've been kissed well before. Who cares if he leaves after one nice—okay, hot as hell—kiss?

It couldn't go anywhere even if they were both staying. Because Maggie was wrong about one thing—Jill and Jax might be trying to find their way out of a world their families had carved out for them, but they were as different as the canyon and city.

"Okay. Well, thanks for the gift." She turned back toward the house so he couldn't see the hurt that spilled from her eyes. It was so silly. She and Jax disagreed on almost everything, but in a rare moment of vulnerable honesty, she admitted she'd miss him. He made her job better, encouraged her to have a little fun while she worked hard, and even worked hard alongside her.

But he was always going to leave, and she was always going to fall for men who courted the rodeo over any woman.

She might as well get used to that and forget the way he'd opened up a tiny sliver of hope that maybe this time, things could be different.

*

Jax had two more stops before he got to Austin, and each one filled him with anticipation. His skin prickled with an awareness he hadn't had in the past decade and a half. Hell, his life was unrecognizable from the cobbled-together survival mode he'd been in just a week prior. He had a job lined up, a son to get to know, and a future that he was finally looking forward to.

So long as he didn't think about what all that had cost him, that was. Jill was an amazing woman but asking her to consider helping him raise a teenage boy was a big ask when they'd never even gone on a real date. Besides, she'd made it pretty clear that raising kids who weren't hers was off the table. He'd received her message about Gander.

He pulled into the first spot he could find outside the hardware store. Jax had been downright despondent when Ren had taken off a week ago. To have something thrown in his lap he was certain he'd never wanted was disorienting, but then to lose it?

It cleared things up pretty damn quick. He was a dad, and he'd be a damn good one.

Luckily, when the boy had sprinted away as quickly as he did, he'd left his cell phone behind. It had been locked, but Jax put an envelope under it with some cash, a brief letter about how much he wanted to get to know Ren and make up for all the years he hadn't been aware the amazing boy had existed, and a sticky note with the name D AD on it, along with Jax's phone number. Then he hid behind the barn so he wouldn't spook the kid into running again.

Bennett was out of town when Ren finally returned, and the smile on his son's face—Bennett's smile—after reading the note was all the encouragement Jax needed.

He'd make this right any way he could.

Six phone meetings with Ren's grandfather—a formidable man who wasn't relenting his hold on guardianship—and two lawyers later, and all parties had agreed on a compromise until Jax was settled in a job closer to Austin to be with his son. Now he was stocking up on supplies to have Ren stay at the ranch with him the next month, and though he'd thought ranching wasn't his passion, the idea of sharing his family's livelihood with the next generation was so freaking cool.

He got out of the truck cab and inhaled the promise of the day, a promise that started with picking Ren up and starting the rest of his life.

The sweet, floral scent permeated the confusion that had been building at the back of his throat since Jill Henley rode into town.

A brief thought gave him pause. The image of starting that life off with Jill at his side, their passion for work and each other was tempting, but what could he offer her? She hated the rodeo, but he'd been offered a permanent contract to train young men in the Austin circuit. The money was good, the location ideal, and the work something he could put his heart and soul into.

But Jill wouldn't ever sign on for a life she'd given up. And she wanted kids of her own—a whole brood of them, she'd said—so putting that on hold to help him raise a teen boy wasn't fair.

It stung like hell giving her up, but he cared about her enough to do it, so she'd never look back and wonder if she'd sacrificed everything for him.

He went into Harvey's Feed and Supply, his list shaking in his hand.

"Hey, there, Jax. Was just talking about you," Harvey said, his six-foot frame squeezing through the small gap in the counter as he came out to greet Jax. He'd miss Deer Creek for guys like this—people who'd known him since birth and could shoot the breeze with him about ranching and love and other hazards of life.

"Oh yeah? Only good things, I hope."

Harvey slapped him on the back and chuckled. "Of course. Just sayin' that what you and Ms. Henley are doing is a good thing. You're really helping the town with that internship program."

Guilt lodged in Jax's throat, making it difficult to reply. So did another concern. They hadn't announced anything officially. Maggie had an episode the other night and was hospitalized to get her heart rate down, so Jill wanted to wait to pitch the idea until she had the CAF on board. How did Harvey know?

"Um, thanks. Anyway, just here to pick up some supplies. I'll pass on your compliment to Jill next time I see her."

If I see her. She'd been pretty hard to pin down since he'd talked to her outside Maggie's house that night.

"Gimme that list," Harvey said, gesturing for the slip of paper. Before Jax could skirt away from the minefield of questions that would follow, Harvey snatched it out of his hand and looked it over. "Boots. Coveralls. Hat. Rope. Hmm. I can help with this. New ranch hand?"

"Something like that." Jax rocked on his heels, nerves almost tipping him over. The less he said the better, since stop two was sharing his news with his mom, brother, and Maggie. The last thing he needed was the Deer Creek Telegraph—aka gossip—to reach them before he could.

"Alright, son. Let's get to work."

In less than fifteen minutes, Jax had everything Ren would need to survive on the ranch. He'd gone to Benson, the next town over, for toiletries, reasoning there'd be fewer prying eyes and loose lips there.

Now came the hard part.

Pulling into the ranch, he couldn't keep the smile from his face or the tremor from his hands. His chest felt like it might crack open and release a flock of hungry doves.

The easy chatter emanating from the back of the house reverberated in his clenched jaw, making it ache. As excited as he was for a future that included his son, he was acutely aware that he was altering the world of those he loved forever. His only hope was that they'd sift through the same shock he'd felt when he'd discovered he was a father and come to the same conclusion. This was a good thing.

It's now or never.

He waded through a minefield of memories hanging on the walls and adorning every available surface in his mom's house on the ranch. The pride she felt in her family was evident in each photo, each award she prominently displayed. Even older photos of Matt still hung despite the years since they'd last seen Bennett and Jax's oldest brother.

They filled him with a deep, all-encompassing love for his family—and they also stung. They constituted a life lived in each other's orbit, and no matter where Jax and Ren went from here, they'd never have those shared moments of Ren's childhood to cherish.

He sighed. He'd done his best to come at this with the gratitude he normally showed up to life with, but it was hard not to let the bitterness taint the edges of his newfound joy.

He'd never witnessed Ren's first steps.

He'd never taught him how to ride a bike.

He'd never tiptoed into Ren's room and replaced a lost tooth with treats and some coins.

Jax ran a finger along the edge of a frame showing him as he'd been in a particular moment of his childhood—toothless and grinning with a large-mouth bass spanning half his height. He'd been happy then, unmarred by time and heartache.

But just maybe, there were new things he could teach his son, new experiences they could share together. He had to believe this or the crushing weight of all he'd lost out on would cripple him.

"Well, look at you," his mother announced when he ended up on the back patio. She cupped his cheeks and instead of her usual kiss on the forehead, she regarded him through slitted eyes. "You're different. Something's changed, hasn't it?"

His jaw actually dropped. "How do you do it?" he asked.

She tossed him a knowing, tight grin and sat back down at the deck table across from a lemonade.

"A parent knows their children. Trust me, someday you'll see."

He swallowed hard. Would there come a time he knew Ren like that? God, he hoped so.

"Where's Bennett and Maggie?" he asked, clearing his throat. His secret pressed against his sternum, desperate to claw its way out.

"Upstairs taking her sugar levels. They'll be here in a minute. Can I grab you something to drink, hon?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I know where they're at. Can I bring something back?"

His mom leaned back in her chair, her closed eyes and half smile turned toward the sun. "No, thanks, Woody."

She was the hardest worker he knew and still somehow managed to always show up when he needed her. The least he could do for her was to let her take the last few relaxing moments where her world sat firmly on the axis she'd built it on.

The fridge was stocked with Grace Marshall's favorites—lemon and vanilla pastries and sparkling water from Austin—but a majority of the drinks and snacks were what she knew her kids liked. Beer, guac and salsa for chips, and steak tips that could be grilled on a moment's notice.

Nothing looked good; his appetite was somewhere south of his stomach at the moment, so he settled on a fizzy water to calm his nerves.

"Hey, Mom. You want me to fire up the grill and—"

He looked up and saw not only his brother and Maggie had joined his mother, but Jill.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Excuse me, Jackson Howard Marshall. That is not how we speak to guests."

He shook his head but didn't take his gaze off Jill. Hell, he couldn't if he wanted to. She wore a white linen T-shirt that showed off the glow from the sun she'd been working in since she'd arrived. Her crimson hair was pulled into a side braid that let a few errant curls loose around her face. Only a hint of shine on her lips and long, brown lashes suggested any makeup, and damn it, she'd never looked more beautiful.

Deer Creek suited her.

Why'd I have to meet you so late?

"Sorry," he muttered. "I, uh, wasn't expecting anyone but family."

She flinched but kept a thin-lipped smile.

"She is family, Jax. Get used to it. Now, we're all here like you requested, so why don't you stop staring at Jill and tell us why you called us."

"God knows I'm curious, especially since you already quit the family business," Bennett said.

Maggie slapped him on the shoulder. "Which we know you wouldn't have done if you didn't have a good reason," Maggie added. "And as your family, we support you in whatever you have going on."

Jax's cheeks flamed. Still, it took all his effort to pull his gaze from the woman he'd sworn off but couldn't stop thinking about. Jill pulled his focus from what mattered most—Ren. But still, he couldn't quit her when she was within arm's reach. His body actively craved hers.

"Um, yeah." He took the seat across from Jill. "So, like Bennett pointed out, I have to leave MBE. But Maggie's right. I didn't quit just to chase a silly dream from childhood. Well, maybe in the beginning, but then things changed, so the dream changed."

"I didn't think you did, hon. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"It's great, actually. Big, life-altering, and a little scary. But it's great."

Jill leaned forward in her chair.

Maybe it was a good thing she was here. She'd hear it firsthand and clear up any residual confusion about their almost-relationship.

"Well, get to it, already," Bennett said.

Maggie whacked him on the shoulder again, and this time Bennett earned a glare. Jax chuckled. Man, he lucked out in the sister-in-law category.

"What your brother means is, we're excited to hear whatever you've got to share on your time."

Jax took a deep breath and met his mom's gaze.

"I have a son. His name is Ren and he's fifteen and no, I didn't know about him until now."

Whew. The gentle whoosh of air from his lungs cut through the silent stillness that had fallen over the group. No one blinked, breathed, or shifted in their seats.

He scanned his family and Jill's faces for signs of what they were feeling and was met with four different emotions.

His mother wept, but her eyes were bright and her smile wide as he'd ever seen it.

Maggie also cried but leaned on her husband for support. Her smile was softer as she rubbed her belly.

Bennett stared at him, wide-eyed and lips parted. Then he frowned and closed his mouth, only to open it again. Clearly, he couldn't figure out what to say or how to say it.

Jill was the enigma. Her face remained passive. She wasn't frowning or smiling. Her eyes weren't saucers of surprise or even slits that would've indicated anger. She simply looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.

Then, it was as if a balloon popped, and everyone started talking at once.

"How did you find out?" he heard at the same time someone asked, "When did you learn about him?"

Only his mother stood, strode over, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Tears fell from her cheeks onto his shirt, and she sniffled.

"When can I meet my grandson?" she whispered in his ear.

It was all he needed to hear. Things would be okay.

"I'm heading there now to get him, if that's alright. He'll live with me this month while I figure out work closer to Austin so I can support him."

"Of course, it's okay," his mother said, drying her eyes and looking very much like she'd won the damn lottery. She sat beside him, one hand on his knee while the other covered her mouth. "I'm a grandmother. And I'm about to be one twice over."

Maggie nodded, her smile as wide as her face now.

"Oh my goodness! I'm an aunt, which means Bennett, you're—"

"An uncle. Holy crap." But his brother still laughed and slapped his back. "Congratulations, bud. You're a dad ."

"I know. It's wild, right?"

Bennett laughed loud and full. "You can say that. I think when any of us thought about who'd be first to make Mom a grandma, you weren't even in the top three."

"Agreed," Jax admitted. His chest unfurled like it had wings instead of anchors weighing it down.

He shot Jill a glance. She hadn't moved an eyelash since he shared the news. What was she thinking about all this? Did she care at all?

Why do you care if she does? He wanted to be with her more than almost anything. But freaking fate had dropped the one thing in his lap that would change his mind. He needed to concentrate on being a good dad to Ren. The rest would have to wait, even if Jill wouldn't.

"So, tell us the story. How did this all happen?"

Jax shared the way Ren had reached out to him, including the way Bennett had scared him off at first.

"Benny has that effect on people," Maggie teased. She rubbed her husband's shoulders affectionately, though.

"That kid? Man, he's tall. Looks like you, too. I should've figured it out."

"He's lean like Matt was and has your smile. Hopefully, your sense of right and wrong, too. You're all gonna love him."

Jax went on to share the temporary plan. Ren would come to work the ranch—with Bennett's approval, of course. Bennett just nodded along like adding a teenager to the family was as natural as warm spring winds.

"And I heard you tell Mom you're heading over to get him after this?"

"I am. He's going to live here with me until I can get set up in Austin, but don't worry. I've got food and clothes and everything figured out."

"You get the kid a toothbrush?" Bennett asked.

Jax nodded. "And deodorant and a razor. I even bought him a ranching kit at Harvey's just now. He's all set. I was a teenage kid once, too, you know. And anything I forgot, I've got Google and you guys."

"Damn. I'm proud of you. This is a big deal, and you're handling it like a champ. Sorry I gave you shit for leaving MBE. I know why you did and it's honorable."

"Thanks," Jax said. He was misty-eyed now, too. "I'm not gonna lie. I did it for me in the beginning, but when I found out about Ren, I asked the manager if I could have something more stable, more permanent. It's not perfect since I won't be in town, but it's close."

"And if I can do anything to help, please let me know. I've got connections in Austin and can set you up with some recommendations for housing," Maggie chimed in. "Jill knows people there, too."

Jill seemed to snap out of the fog she was in.

She nodded. "Yeah. I know a lot of folks there if you need me to reach out."

"Thanks for that, all of you. I've got some options, but if those fall through, I'll ask."

"Um, congratulations, but if you'll excuse me, I have some work to catch up on. I'll let you have this moment as a family." Jill got up and excused herself, giving his mom a tight hug on her way out.