Five

G enesis heaved a relieved sigh. Did Jaxson really think not knowing her was the only problem? That was bad enough, but did he think he’d been forgiven for what happened to Hank? Not to mention that he had no idea of the rift in her family their night together had caused.

Genesis abruptly shifted her foot. An intense pain shot up her leg. She swallowed a scream, held it down by pressing the covers against her mouth and gritting her teeth. Tears pooled. Her ankle throbbed. She hated admitting it, but Jaxson’s opinion might be too optimistic. A bone could be broken. He was concerned enough to not take any chances with her walking, to prevent further injury by picking her up. This Jaxson reminded her of the one she’d slept with. The one with gentle hands and tender caresses.

Even now, all these years later, she remembered how carefully, almost reverently, they’d made love. Not only a great lover but thoughtful as well. He’d brought her a washcloth, then further surprised her by initiating a cuddle. She’d been shocked to learn he was still in high school. A whole five years younger than she was. A mature eighteen. His body had felt good then. Looked and felt amazing now. She’d have to be dead to not be affected and a straight-up liar to deny the truth. The guy who had sexed her in the past and cared for her now was totally at odds with the one at the center of the ugly dare rumor and who had intentionally, allegedly, broken Hank’s arm.

She lifted her neck and looked out the window. Listened closely. The rain must have stopped. Her mind went back to the accident, replaying what had happened—how one minute she was upright and the next on the ground, writhing in mud with a pain she felt had to be right up there with having a natural childbirth. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating, but it hurt like heck.

She replayed those minutes just after she’d watched Jaxson and the little boy Mario jump in his pickup and drive away in the rain. How she’d bristled against his suggestion—which somehow felt like a command—that she not try driving around the property. How the decision to do so was in direct defiance to this advice. How she’d increased her speed when she saw where he lived. The house that, while eyeing it from a distance, all but beckoned her, tempted her with a promise of something desirous and decadent hidden inside.

Without wanting to, she wondered about how a football star like Jaxson had ended up back on his grandfather’s farm in the small town of Holy Mound. Mario was his nephew. Did he have kids? The wife question seemed to have been answered. If a spouse was anywhere close by, she wouldn’t be in Jaxson’s bed.

Everyone in town probably knew where he lived. Being discovered here would hurt more than her ankle. She couldn’t get caught with the enemy, again. News spread fast in a city like Memphis. She could only imagine how much faster it got around in the Holy Mound countryside. The last thing she needed was another rumor involving her lover from a long-ago one-night stand getting to her family. She sat up, eased her body to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over.

Ouch! That. Hurt.

Ignoring the pain standing up caused her, she stood on the uninjured foot, then tentatively touched the floor with the other leg.

Not so bad.

She took a step, more like a hop, before placing her weight on the injured ankle and feeling intense pain shoot from toe to hip.

“Ow!”

The pain sent her to her knees. Quick footsteps echoed from the hallway.

“Genesis! Damn, girl. What are you doing?”

Once again, Jaxson picked her up and placed her back in bed. His face, however, was a storm cloud that rivaled the ones outside. For the first time since he’d appeared roadside, she considered her ungrateful actions. Her feelings were all over the place. Past memories impacted present common sense. Like now, with her behaving like someone with no manners when her mother, while distant, had raised her right.

“The mud,” she managed with a nod, acknowledging the wet dirt all over Jaxson’s earth-toned patchwork quilt. It was a flimsy excuse for what she was actually trying to do—escape not only the enemy but her clashing emotions—but it was all her pain-riddled mind could conjure up on the spot.

Genesis watched Jaxson’s scowl deepen, then disappear with a shake of his head.

“That’s the least of your problems.” He reached for another pillow and further elevated her leg, and then picked up the ice pack. “You need to let me help lessen the severity of this sprain or risk greater long-term damage. Either that or hop your ass off this bed and back to your car, however you get there. I’m not going to keep begging to help you or be responsible for whatever physical condition results from your being stubborn...” A pause and then he added, “...and stupid,” under his breath.

Not low enough. Genesis heard his diss contained in barely veiled annoyance. Spoken without looking at her in a calm voice that belied the fire she felt blazing just beneath the surface. A flame that set her yoni on fire. She ignored the traitorous feelings and refocused on Jaxson, the enemy, and his bad mood. Genesis couldn’t blame him for it. To say she’d been an uncooperative patient was an understatement. Driving like a bat out of hell during a rainstorm on unfamiliar terrain might have been stupid, too.

He held a knife that looked like a box cutter just above the jeans hem, which was tightening more every second around her throbbing, swelling ankle.

“Yes or no.”

Hell no! she mentally screamed. Outwardly she nodded, then fell back against the pillows that taunted her with his scent, a mix between cologne, soap and 100 percent lean, non-GMO man. With the pain now shooting from her ankle to her thigh bone, nodding was all she could do.

Again, he’d made no eye contact when he spoke, just delivered the question with a calm, steely resolve. Genesis closed her eyes as the words repeated in her mind. She found herself giving more meaning to the simple question, as though the inquiry was about more than her injury. Irrational, she decided. Stupid, as he said.

I must have hit my head harder than I thought. She forced her mind away from the man to the mission at hand. Hard to do, given the long, strong fingers now brushing against her sensitive skin, pulling material away from the injury and cutting it off. She tried not to think about how the jeans he snipped so quickly and expertly were one of her favorite and most comfortable pairs. Not to worry. The cold gel substance he smoothed across the injury, followed by an even colder ice bag, immediately grabbed her attention. She shivered. Whether from the ice or the irony of being turned on by the enemy, she wasn’t sure.

“Not to be a broken record, but after I wrap this ankle, you really should get out of those clothes.” He walked into the en suite and returned with a wrap made from a different material than the more common ones seen on TV. “This is called a smart wrap. It has a type of thermodynamic action that aids the injury without having to be wound tightly around it.”

He sprayed the cuts on her lower leg, then stepped back and reached for the cordless phone on the table. “I’ll keep trying to reach Miss Hazel. Once the rain stops, we’ll get you to a doctor.”

“It feels a little better.”

“That’s good, but you don’t want to take any chances. It’s most likely a sprain, but you want to make sure it isn’t fractured or broken.”

“You sound like an expert.”

“I’ve suffered enough injuries to qualify.”

The smile he offered was brief and unexpected. Took away the hint of pain she saw in his eyes. A total turn-on. In spite of knowing she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help not only imagining it, but wanting to be the person to make those luscious lips smile. She shivered, and the wet clothes she wore had little to do with it.

The pleasant expression she admired quickly left, replaced by his normal serious look that regularly alternated with the highly chagrined one. He walked out of the room and returned with a gray sweat suit. Genesis wondered if it belonged to him or was left behind by a random female or, worse, his current girlfriend. None of those choices was something she wanted to wear, which, unless Jaxson was a mind reader, must have shown on her face.

“I bought these for Mario’s mother, my sister Ruth, for a workout program that never got started. They might be a little big, but they’re clean and dry.” He tossed them on the bed. “Looks like the rain has let up a bit,” he commented after a look out the window. He tapped the face of his phone and put it up to his ear. “Be right back.”

Once Jaxson left the room, Genesis sat up and reached for the warm-ups.

Since their restaurant encounter, the man she’d sworn to hate years ago had been nothing but considerate. From literally plucking her from the mud to tending the injury to providing dry clothes under a dry roof, Jaxson had been a gentleman.

After a quick look at the door—along with the fleeting thought to hop over and lock it—Genesis pulled the muddy, sodden top over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra was wet, too, but the thought of Jaxson picking it up off the floor caused her to keep it on. She pulled on the bulky top and was immediately grateful for its dryness and warmth. Taking off the jeans? Not so easy. They were made of a stretchable fabric that was easy to maneuver in and out of under normal circumstances. Trying to lift one’s butt off the bed while balancing on one leg wasn’t normal. Or easy. At all. She rocked and wiggled the jeans past her ass and pushed them to her knees. But that was as far as she got before a light tap sounded at the door.

“Just a sec!”

Genesis looked around and, after not seeing anything else to cover up with, pulled the quilt from both sides and wrapped it around her partially clad lower half.

“Okay, come in.”

Something about inviting Jaxson into his own bedroom felt awkward and thrilling at the same time. He’d changed clothes, too, from the muddy blue jeans and tee emblazoned with his pro ball’s team logo to a short-sleeved black pullover and black jeans that enhanced his ebony skin. A five-o’clock shadow brought attention to a set of thick eyebrows and a square jawline. Jaxson was aging extremely well, looked even better close-up than from a distance. Watching him approach as she sat there half-naked caused goose bumps to pop up on her still-damp, bare ass.

His eyes went from her face...to the sweat bottoms...to the scrunched-up quilt around her middle. Genesis tried to convince herself that his darkening eyes was her imagination. His expression held no indication of what he was thinking. Genesis pulled the quilt closer and tried to appear equally unbothered.

The brother had her bothered, no doubt about that!

“Do you need more time to...?” He nodded toward the pants lying on top of the quilt.

“Um, no. I decided that, um, changing the top was enough.”

“Do you need assistance getting out of your jeans?”

Genesis shifted, feeling the discomfort of a ball of material bunched around her knees.

“Wait, that didn’t sound right. Can I help you take those pants off? Damn, that wasn’t much better.”

She bit off a smile, swallowed a chuckle and fought off images of Jaxson’s hands on her thighs, along with the memory of his body between them. Fortunately, his discomfort helped return X-rated thoughts to PG.

“Keep on digging that hole for yourself.”

“Naw, I’d better stop. I’m already waist-deep.”

Again, that smile. This time she smiled back. It was hard as hell to hate his fine ass right now.

“I’m okay. This top is warm and so is the quilt. I appreciate it.”

He visibly relaxed. “No worries. I reached my neighbor.”

“What did she say?”

“Among other things, a long story that involves animals and barns. I’ll let her share it when she comes down, she says in about an hour. In the meantime, she suggested I call Dr. Turner.”

“Is that her doctor?”

Jaxson shook his head. “She knows about him through her volunteer work at an urgent care near Memphis. He does video appointments and may be able to provide a cursory diagnosis, at least until we can get you to a hospital.”

“We? I’m not your responsibility, Jaxson,” Genesis said, the guilt of how she genuinely felt about him causing her to look away. “You’ve been very helpful, a lifesaver. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me. And all this...” She motioned to her foot and around the room. “Thank you.”

“Nipsey is who you need to thank. If not for him, with all that tall grass, I might still be looking for you.”

“If you hadn’t come down that back road, I’d still be there.”

“Not with my neighbors on the hill. They don’t miss anything that happens down here in the valley. Granville is how I knew you were stuck.”

“He saw me?”

“Fortunately. When he said it didn’t look like you’d make it out, I jumped in the truck.”

“I really do appreciate it.”

“As I said before, it’s what we neighbors do around these parts.” He added a country twang to the last few words.

“You did not just say ‘around these parts,’” she deadpanned.

“I did.” A twinkle appeared in those alluring dark eyes.

“Sounds like something Uncle Cyrus would say.”

“That’s probably where I heard it.”

They both laughed and in that second something passed between them, something silent and promising, dangerous and alluring, a temporary truce that shifted the room’s atmosphere. Jaxson gave her a look that she couldn’t decipher, one that sent butterflies fluttering into her heat. She pulled the quilt tighter around her.

If Jaxson noticed, she couldn’t tell. “I’m starving,” he said, changing the subject and blessedly the temperature in the room. “I’m going to make a sandwich. Would you like one?”

“What kind?”

“What does it matter? Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“You have a point.”

“Unless you’re one of those ‘plant-based people,’” he said, a near sneer accompanying the air quotes placed around the phrase. “If that’s the case, a PB and J is the best I can do.”

Genesis didn’t try to stop her smile this time. Growing up, PB and Js were an after-school staple.

“Actually, I’d love a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“Girl, I was just messing with you. I keep a variety of freshly sliced meats from the deli in town. I think there’s tuna salad, too.”

“Okay, here comes a serious question.” Genesis paused. “Is the jelly you’re offering strawberry or grape?”

“What kind of question is that? Grape, of course. And before you ask, that can come with your choice of smooth or crunchy.”

“Oh, you’ve got it like that, huh?”

Jaxson popped an imaginary collar. “I’m nobody’s slouch.”

“In that case, I’ll take crunchy.”

“Cool. One PB and J coming up.”

Taking advantage of his absence, Genesis pushed the jeans down past her knees for greater movement, then scooted to the middle of the bed so she could pull more of the quilt around her. Again, she looked out the window. What had been a torrential downpour a half hour ago was now a steady drizzle, just as it had been when she first set out on her great expedition to explore the land her uncle had given her. Why couldn’t the rain have continued in this way instead of becoming the tsunami that got her stuck in the mud and now sitting half-naked in the middle of Jaxson’s bed? The storm had driven her into the home of the worst possible option for safety—the rainy weather outside causing mental and emotional turbulence within. In this moment Genesis wasn’t sitting here trying to be the strong Black woman. Right now, got dammit, it was just all. Too. Much.

Before she could get emotional, a light tap interrupted thoughts that served no good purpose. Jaxson entered carrying a bed tray—the finest medical assistant she’d ever seen.

“Dr. Turner can see you,” he announced, while setting down the tray with a flourish.

He was careful to position the legs away from where the cover bunched around her. Along with the PB and J on wheat bread, her favorite for this sandwich, was an apple, a glass of orange juice, a bottle of water and a bowl of kettle corn. He’d even added sanitizer wipes to clean her hands before eating, and napkins to wipe away crumbs.

“Miss Hazel insisted on coming down to hear what the doc has to say.”

“That’s very kind of her.”

“She’s a kind lady.” He eyed the tray. “Everything good? I have chips but they clash with peanut butter. Thought about hot soup because of the rain, but that’s not a match either.”

Was he always this considerate? This thoughtful? If so, keeping those ten-year-old memories that kept a wall of anger between them was a challenge Genesis wasn’t sure she was up to.

“It’s fine, Jaxson, really.” She used a sanitizer wipe, then reached for a kettle corn kernel and popped it in her mouth. Several more quickly followed. “Um, these are good.”

“Best I’ve tasted,” Jaxson said, leaning comfortably against a nearby wall. “They’re from Holy Goodness, a bakery and sweets store just down the street and around the corner from Holy Moly.”

“Sheesh! A lot of holy going on in this town.”

“A lot of sin, too.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. She fixed him with a look. He held up his hands.

“My bad.”

Genesis shook her head and picked up the sandwich that Jaxson had cut in half.

“How’s the ratio?”

She swallowed the bite. “Ratio?”

“Peanut butter to jelly. There’s an art, more like a science, to knowing the exact amount of each product to use—forty percent peanut butter to sixty percent jelly. Anybody who does it fifty-fifty is a novice who needs to be retrained.”

“I’m not ready to grant you master status, but...you clearly know your way around a jelly jar.”

Jaxson’s smile revealed a row of teeth that were white and slightly crooked, which Genesis found endearing. Down the hall, a bell dinged.

“My soup is ready,” he said, pushing off the wall he leaned on and heading for the door. “Are you sure you don’t want some? It’s tomato, to go with my roast beef sandwich. I’ve got plenty.”

“I appreciate you asking, but I’m good for now.”

After Jaxson left, Genesis dug into the rest of her sandwich. She’d had nothing but coffee since leaving the house and was hungrier than she’d realized. She ate the sandwich, every kernel of the tasty corn and the apple down to the core. She drank the juice and most of the water. Once the focus moved from the food to her foot, she realized it was once again throbbing. She laid her head against the headboard and prayed it wasn’t broken.

Jaxson returned wearing a lightweight jacket and a baseball cap. “I have to run an errand, but Miss Hazel is on her way. My nephew Mario is with her. He’s a bundle of energy and talks nonstop. I’ve warned him to mind his manners and respect your privacy, but honestly, I can’t make any promises, so...apologies in advance.”

When it came to small children, Genesis’s experience was limited. Her brother Hank’s first child was less than a year old, and she’d only seen her once, when she was about two months old. Most of her friends were like her, single and childless. Life would have to be ideal for her to have a baby. Slim chance since “ideal” and “her life” didn’t go together. But since she was basically an interloper in a stranger’s home, she didn’t actually have a say in the matter. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d be there long. As soon as she could think of someone to call and come get her, a friend who didn’t know her brother or ask too many questions, and as soon as she could master something similar to walking, she was out.

“I won’t be here long enough for him to bug me,” she answered, with an assurance she didn’t feel. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“You might want to slow your roll on making the great escape. Doctor’s orders will more than likely have you stuck in bed or on a couch like your car in the mud.”

The car! That was a whole other situation Genesis had forgotten about. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a hitch on my truck and will pull it out tomorrow. I’ll put Mario in the game room so I can sleep in the guest room upstairs.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Genesis argued.

“It’s no problem.”

“It’s too much.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just being hospitable. Make sure that wherever you are there is someone to help you. My guess is that Dr. Turner is going to want you to stay off that foot.”

“Thanks again, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He crossed the room. “If you leave, put your keys on the nightstand. The car should be in your uncle’s driveway by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sorry for the muddy mess. Let me know the cost to get your quilt cleaned.”

“Don’t worry about it. Feel better, all right?”

Genesis tried to lie to herself and feel that she was glad he was gone. The truth was that she’d enjoyed his company, their banter, his presence. Thankfully, the silence didn’t last long. Miss Hazel was everyone’s country grandma, who loudly announced her presence from the hallway and burst through the door with more energy than Mario, working with the efficiency of someone who’d attended to a person or two. She teased Genesis about being in Jaxson’s bedroom “half-naked,” turned her jeans into cutoff shorts and skillfully eased them down her body and over the ankle. She shortened the sweatpants, too, so they’d slide on easier when Genesis was alone. Dr. Turner’s video call was brief. He took one look at her swollen ankle.

“X-ray. ASAP.”

He suggested a doctor in Holy Mound with a small practice and limited equipment but the ability to at least confirm whether she was dealing with a break or a sprain. The doctor rarely saw new patients and wasn’t open on Saturdays, but since he and Dr. Turner were not only colleagues but friends, he’d made an exception.

Genesis found herself in another pickup truck, this one silver with an extended cab. From the back seat, an animated Mario chattered nonstop about how the heavy rainstorm trapped them in the barn where they’d gone to check on Hazel’s goat, and insisted on singing the entire version of the song that entertained them, punctuated with exuberant oinks, moos and quacks.

“Old McCormick had a farm...”

A whole fifteen minutes into the ride, and the song, sleep finally shut him up.

Whew! She could probably babysit someone else’s child now and then, but Genesis mentally doubled down on not having babies anytime soon.

Hazel quickly filled the silence. She apologized for not being available for “her Jaxson” and said she’d never again go anywhere without her phone, “even the dat gum barn!”

They reached a clinic the size of a shed. Twenty minutes after arriving, Genesis left the office on crutches wearing an ankle boot. Official diagnosis? Severe sprain. No broken or fractured bones. She was to avoid movement or pressure for at least forty-eight hours, which meant she couldn’t walk, much less drive.

More potential money spooling down the DoorDash drain.

“You can drop me off at Uncle Cyrus’s,” Genesis announced.

Hazel glanced over. “I don’t think so.”

They returned to Jaxson’s house. During the ride back she’d phoned Brea, a friend and coworker originally from Detroit. As far as she knew, Brea didn’t watch sports, was unlikely to know Jaxson and would have no idea about their messy shared past. Brea was more than happy to help her. Too bad she was currently in New Orleans.

“Jax will take care of you,” Hazel assured her, with a comforting leg pat as they pulled into his drive. “I know his parents and his grandparents. He had a rascal of a reputation, but his mama didn’t raise no fools.”

Hazel set her up on the living room couch with a large Cobb salad, chips and soda on the coffee table, a pillow under her boot and the low-dose pain medication the doctor had prescribed her within reaching distance. After assuring Hazel that she’d be fine alone, the neighbor wrote down her number and made sure the TV remote was accessible and Genesis’s cell phone was charged up and handy. With a final squeeze of Genesis’s shoulder, Hazel reached for Mario’s hand and left just as quickly as she’d arrived.

The quiet that ensued felt like the calm after a storm. Genesis knew different. Given whose house she was in, whose couch she lounged on and how that person had occupied her thoughts all day, what she experienced now was simply a lull before the next encounter with a six-foot, two-legged whirlwind named Jaxson.