7. Jones

CHAPTER 7

Jones

Mia

We need to meet to go over the vendor list for Bikes and Beers.

Me

No need, I've already got a list.

Mia

Don't you think I should get a say?

Me

No.

Mia

Would you have let my dad have a say?

S hit. I grumble under my breath while typing a response.

Me

The list is basically the same one your dad and I came up with last year.

Mia

Jones don't be a dick.

Me

Fine. Gazebo. One hour.

Mia

I never said I was free now.

Me

You want a say in the list? Gazebo. One hour.

Mia

Dick.

I'm not proud of myself. Okay, maybe I'm a little proud of myself. I could've been all soft and Jones-like and pussy-whipped over Mia, but I'm not.

Though she does have me captivated by the dick texts. Even if she's not referring to my favorite appendage, it's still arousing.

Despite her argument of not being available, Mia beats me to the gazebo. She's left her natural hair of curls alone and they flow down her back almost to her butt. It feels fucking heartless. She has to remember that I loved her hair this way. I loved her hair any way, but like this—carefree and relaxed—was everything.

"I expected you to be late," I say with a grunt as I amble up the gazebo steps.

"I'm never late," she declares.

Yeah, I know this about her too. Mia has always been prompt. She lives for that shit. Me? I'm typically a 5-10 minutes late kind of person. Don't want to seem too eager.

I guess part of me didn't expect her to show at all. Part of me expects she's going to disappear and I won't see her again. That's what leaving does to someone.

"This shouldn't take long." I lean against the wood railing and sit on the ledge of the gazebo.

Mia is seated at the picnic table in the center. But I don't want to get that close. I'm too afraid I'll be tempted to gather her in my arms and kiss her again like I've been hard up without her. It doesn't matter if that's the truth, I don't need her to know it.

"And yet it was so important that you needed to meet with me right away?" she asks, eyes full of questions beyond the one she's asking out loud.

Sparkling green eyes that hold everything from our past. And if I stare into them long enough, I'm scared I'll never find my way back to the present.

I give her a nonchalant shrug. "We're behind in our planning. Plus, I'm busy the rest of the day."

She has her phone out. "Okay, well, if you're open to it, I've got some ideas."

"What kind of ideas?" I'm not thrilled about this. Part of me wants to shut her down now. But the other part of me, the part that's obviously still so in love with her, wants to give in to whatever she asks.

"For vendors. I know you said you have them all set from last year, but I might have one or two you haven't thought of."

"Doubtful," I mumble.

"Let me see your list."

"Let me see yours," I challenge back.

"How about I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she says in a singsong, smirking.

Such a brat.

This banter instigates a spark of excitement to travel south. My dick has a mind of his own. He doesn't care that this woman isn't for him anymore. That she hurt us and left us. And she'll do it again in a fucking heartbeat.

I hold out my hand. "Let me see."

She purses her lips, hesitating for a moment but we both know she's going to give in. Handing me her phone, she says, "After talking with Cammie and Rosie, I actually thought that last one was a great idea."

Groaning, I mutter, "I'm gonna stop you right there. When it comes to Bikes and Beers, a good idea from those two is debatable."

But I swallow back my words after reading the first one grief hits me like a punch to my chest. My vision doesn't even travel to the next idea because it's transfixed. It's an idea to use the gazebo as a memorial for anyone who has ever participated in Bikes and Beers and has passed away. A participant in this year's event can make a donation and wear a photo pinned to their number and ride in honor of them.

Below is a list of names.

"Maybe it's dumb. Or insensitive. I don't know. Maybe you're right…maybe you've thought of everything already, maybe?—"

"Mia," I interrupt her but have to clear my throat. "It's a good idea."

Her green eyes soften and blush fills her cheeks. "You sure it's not insensitive?"

I shake my head and damn it I can't stop my eyes from watering. But it's impossible. Not when my gaze continues to read my mom's name over and over again.

And not just my mom's. There's Gigi's too. And several other names I recognize.

"But I'm gonna need you to handle this one. I can't. I just…can't."

"That's one hundred percent okay, I can do it," she says quickly.

"Good, now that that's settled." I push off the railing and hold her phone out to her.

But when she tries to grab it, I don't let go. She glares at me. "What the hell, Jones?"

"I want to show you something."

Her brows lift slightly as she tilts her head.

My lips pull at the corner. "Take a ride with me."

She smiles along with me, and my stupid assumption is she's gonna say yes. I let go of her phone and she squeezes it in her hand while peering into the distance.

"What about my other ideas?"

I flatten my palms on the picnic table and lean down to get her attention,. "You can tell me in the truck."

Mia pushes her fingers through her hair. I'm envious of those fingers. I want to have my own fingers tangled in her hair. Just like I used to. But this time, I'd give it a little tug while she's sucking me off.

"I can't, Jones." She stands and climbs off the bench, rubbing her arms and still not looking at me.

Bending down, I stick my face in her line of vision so she has no choice but to make eye contact with me. When she finally does, my heart aches deep in my chest. Deeper than it has in quite a while. "You can't, or you won't?"

"Both," she mumbles, her expression is dejected.

I spin my hat backwards. "I'm not gonna beg, Mia."

She swallows. "I have to get to work."

I cross my arms. "No, you don't."

She's caught and she knows it. If she had work, she wouldn't have been able to meet me now.

"Fine. Suite yourself. But I gotta go." I turn around to leave and her footsteps sound out behind me.

"Where're you going?"

I grin but keep walking. "You wanna know, you're gonna have to come."

"Wait," she calls out.

My stride halts and I turn around to face her. She's chewing on her lip with her arms crossed and gazing every which way but at me.

"Will we be back before nightfall?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Never mind, Peaches. I don't have time for this. I gotta go."

"It's my night to sit with Dad."

Well, shit. "Yes," I grunt. "We'll be back by nightfall."

She follows me to my truck without speaking another word. My damn heart in my chest is booming louder with each step I take. This will be the longest we've been together since she's been back. I'm both excited and scared shitless at the same time.

After we climb into my truck I glance at her, wordlessly giving her one last chance to change her mind and haul ass out of my truck. But she doesn't. So I turn over the engine. And the reliable old country station plays out one of my favorite 90's songs.

For just a few seconds I allow my brain a chance to reminisce. To think about all the times this beautiful girl climbed into my truck. The late nights when she'd sneak out after having a fight with her parents, the hot summer days when we'd head out of town to the lake, and the few times we made this very drive.

Having her as my shotgun rider aligned everything else in my life. Seeing those long, tan legs beside me and that gorgeous smile calmed the wild in me.

After she left, it was like I'd been kicked off my axels. And that untamed beast unleashed. I went on a downhill spiral without her.

It took me years to get back to some kind of a new normal. To stop using her as an excuse for my poor choices. I had to climb out of the pit I was in and force myself to learn how to do life without her.

Having her back here, in Maple Ridge, in my life, is messing with all of that.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I always wondered what would've happened if Reese Witherspoon's character had got in that plane with Jake. Now you mind telling me where we're going?"

As I head out of town on Main Street, I finally answer. "One day a week from late June to late September, I drive to Palisade to pick up peaches."

I don't see her looking at me but more, I feel her looking at me. I wonder what's going on in that beautiful head of hers. God knows she's not going to tell me. Even though there was a time when we knew each other better than anyone else, we don't anymore. We might as well be strangers.

Except that's not true either.

She's Mia. I know her past. And knowing that can tell a person a lot about their present. Although it doesn't feel like that right now. Because I don't know what she's thinking.

"Why?" she finally asks.

"Don't get all cocky on me, beauty. It has nothing to do with you." It may have a little to do with her, but she doesn't need to know that each time I go to Palisade, I think of her. I think about our first time there. It was the first time she let me go down on her. I think about her because that's when I gave her the nickname.

"You haven't been gone that long; you remember how sacred Palisade peaches are. Hell, even people not from Colorado know how sacred they are."

She sighs. "But you can get Palisade peaches anywhere. There're fruit stands up and down the highway."

"It's not the same. When I go, I get to choose the peaches myself. I get to smell them, feel their firmness, and taste them too." I glance over at her and find her cheeks flushed. Like all this talk about produce is arousing her. And maybe it is, ‘cause it's fucking turning me on and making my dick hard.

I slide a grin in her direction before returning my attention back to the road. No sense in getting worked up when nothing is going to happen between us. The kiss from a few days ago already shouldn't have happened. Because the thing about Mia is, it's never going to be enough for me. I want all of her.

"Why do you go once a week? Seems like an awful lot of peaches."

"I pick them up for the bar, and for Grandma Nettie. For your mom, too."

"Oh…she didn't tell me that," she admits.

"Been doing it for about the last five years."

"That's really sweet."

I turn my attention to her as I take the onramp for the highway. "You regretting climbing in my truck, Peaches?"

She's quiet beside me for a long moment before finally saying softly, "I've never regretted climbing in your truck."

Her expression is serious, those beautiful green eyes looking soft and adoring at me. But I can't decide how to take that. If the intention behind her words means more than what she's saying, I can't let my heart get too excited. I'm not sure it will survive another beating from her.