The Last Second Chance: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 3) (5 page)

“At least we didn’t get the elderly, obese howler and Marmaduke Jr. Summer is going to lose her sh— crap when she sees that duo,” Beckett said, jerking his thumb toward the back of the SUV.

“For your information, Meatball is only nine and it’s an easily manageable thyroid condition,” Carter retorted. “And Valentina is named after one of Summer’s favorite designers and I couldn’t say no to those big, bloodshot eyes.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t adopt another damn goat,” Jax said, pulling Waffles off of Beckett’s lap. “Mrs. Penskee told me it’s the most successful day the rescue ever had.”

“That’s because the only animals left are the ones with pending adoptions,” Beckett said dryly.

“And that wrinkly pug dog with a sinus infection,” Carter said. Jax thought he detected a little wistfulness in his brother’s voice.

“Mr. Snuffles?” Evan asked. “Poor guy. Can’t we—”

“No!” All three Pierces yelled, which only encouraged Meatball to start howling again. The human passengers sat in silence for a few minutes, each pondering Mr. Snuffles’ unfortunate predicament.

“You know, Mom and Franklin are going to need a dog to go with their new house,” Jax ventured.

Beckett was already making a U-turn. “Fine, but Mr. Fucking Snuffles better not get his green snot all over the leather.”

Evan hooted and Valentina turned Meatball’s solo into a duet. Tripod Jr. added a sad meow chorus.

“Well, Waffles,” Jax murmured to the furry mop in his lap. “I’m counting on you to soften your mom up for me.”

The dog turned to look at Jax with one brown eye and one blue. He blinked.

“I feel like you understand what I’m saying.”

Waffles blinked again. “Huh,” Jax said.

Carter sniffed the air. “Please tell me that came from one of the dogs.”

Evan pulled his shirt over his face. The smell wafted its way up to the front seat. Beckett gagged and Jax buried his face in Waffles’ wiry fur.

“Did someone just shit themselves in my car?” Beckett demanded, rolling down all the windows.

They pulled back into the rescue’s parking lot. Mrs. Penskee was casually walking Mr. Snuffles around the front porch on a leash. “Back so soon?” She greeted them with a cheery wave. Mr. Snuffles sneezed, sending a green shower in a two-foot radius.

“We’ll take the four-legged sinus infection, Mrs. Penskee,” Jax said, handing his credit card out the window.

“Oh, how exciting!” she said, patting her silver-streaked curls, eyes sparkling behind her wire-rimmed spectacles. She looked like an energetic Mrs. Claus. “I’ll just hand him over and bring you a receipt,” she said, shoving the dog into Carter’s arms through the back window.

“She’s running like she’s afraid we’ll change our minds,” Carter muttered.

“She had him out here on a leash. She knew we’d be back for him,” Beckett said, massaging his temples.

“How’d she know that?” Evan asked, unwrapping Diesel’s leash from his wrist and ankle.

“Because we have ‘suckers’ stamped on our foreheads,” Jax grumbled. Waffles gave a happy little yip.

Mrs. Penskee reappeared waving Jax’s credit card and receipt.

“Thank you boys so much! Are you sure I can’t talk you into posing for a group picture for our Facebook page?”

“No!” They answered in unison.

“Remember, no posting on social media until tomorrow, right, Mrs. Penskee?” Beckett said, flashing her his best mayoral grin.

“All right. Well, you boys have fun surprising your girls,” she said with a wink.

Beckett rolled up the windows and pulled away before they adopted anything else.

“Okay, we’ve got a problem,” Jax announced.

“I don’t smell it, yet,” Carter said, sniffing.

“Not that kind of a problem,” Jax said, exasperated. “Waffles here is supposed to help me sweep Joey off her feet. With the rest of you and this rolling fart circus, you’re gonna steal my thunder.”

“Fart circus,” Evan snickered.

Valentina chose that moment to vault over the backseat, knocking Tripod’s yowling carrier into the console. She lunged forward, her giant tongue colliding with Beckett’s face. He swerved across the double line and back, but the overcorrection took them onto the berm before Beckett was able to get them back between the lines.

They all heard the sirens at the same time.

When Beckett managed to pull over and roll his window down, Valentina shoved her head out and gave Sheriff Cardona a face full of tongue.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

T
he fire crackled merrily
, casting a cozy glow around the room while the blender mixed up margaritas in the kitchen. Joey’s house was full of women and food. And it wasn’t awful. Gia’s sister Emma, in a fitted black turtleneck, had made herself useful mixing drinks and plating food at the island. Eva and Summer snuck cookies and antipasto while discussing the pitfalls of freelance writing.

Gia lounged in front of the fireplace with Aurora who was on her second and last piece of cake. Phoebe relaxed on the sofa with a glass of wine.

“I love your house, Joey,” Emma said, handing her a frosty margarita.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Joey said, wiping her hands on her jeans before accepting the glass.

“Did you see the claw foot tub she has on her deck?” Summer called from the kitchen.

“You have an outdoor tub? Does it work?” Emma asked, eyeing her speculatively.

Joey nodded and flipped on the outdoor lights so she could see for herself.

She liked Emma about as well as she could like anyone new. She was direct, a little cool, and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Eva seemed okay, too. Her auburn curls were chopped short in a face-framing, chaotic bob. She seemed to waste no time on things like formalities or ironing.

And it was clear that they both adored Phoebe, so that was worth high marks in Joey’s book.

“Oh, my God, Joey.” Summer’s voice was reaching orgasm capacity. “These cookies are the most incredible thing I’ve put in my mouth in the last…” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

“Oooh!” The rest of the women spread out between the kitchen and living spaces crooned.

“You guys and your Pierce brothers are killing me,” Eva groaned as she sank down on the leather couch next to Phoebe.

“Yeah, seriously,” Emma sighed from the kitchen where she cut a second sliver of Joey’s death by chocolate cake. “I live in L.A., land of the hot guys, and they’ve got nothing on your Blue Moon men.”

Summer and Gia looked appropriately smug. Joey settled for rolling her eyes.

“Don’t give me that look,” Summer pointed at Joey from her perch in one of the cozy armchairs. “You could have one if you wanted.”

She was suddenly glad she had hidden the roses upstairs in her bedroom. “Can we please stop talking about penis and start talking about something, anything else?” Joey grumbled.

Aurora looked up from her plate, cake smeared across her face. She giggled. “Penis!”

Gia sighed and smoothed her daughter’s wild curls back from her face. “Well, at least you’re teaching her the anatomically correct term.”

“So, Summer,” Phoebe called from her corner of the couch. “How’s the magazine? Are you happy with the launch?”

Summer took her plate into the living room and flopped down on one of Joey’s overstuffed armchairs. “I’m ecstatic,” she said, biting into a crisp carrot. “If anyone had told me how successful the launch was going to be, I’d never have believed it. Mind blown. And don’t even get me started on the attention that Gia’s yoga piece is getting.”

Gia waved away the compliment. “That was entirely Niko’s photography. The man’s a photography genius. Traffic to the site has been great and so has the reaction to all of the content.”

“Bottom line is, between Gia and I, the workload is massive, but we intersperse obsessive tasking with celebrations of our awesomeness. Especially when I got an email from my old boss, Katherine, at
Indulgence
.”

“What did ol’ Hot for Farmers want?” Joey laughed, dropping down in the chair across from Summer and tossing her leg over the arm. Katherine, an editor at Summer’s old magazine, had taken Summer’s article on Carter and the farm and turned it into a sex-god pictorial. It had been the kick Summer needed to quit her job, move in with Carter, and start her own online magazine. Meanwhile, the Pierces spent a solid month or two ignoring modeling offers from agencies.

Her friend tried to look casual. “Oh, not much. Just wanted to insincerely congratulate me on my pet project.”

“B-word,” Gia said definitively.

“And to do a little fishing to see if
Indulgence
could acquire Thrive,” Summer added, spooning up a bit of the vegetable barley soup she had brought.

“What?” The question was shouted from all corners of the room.

Aurora covered her ears and giggled again. Summer grinned.

“Was she serious?” Phoebe asked.

“Serious enough to name a figure, one that would put these two through college,” she said, patting her belly.

The room was unusually silent until Joey snickered. “Everyone’s afraid to ask you what you decided,” she grinned.

“And you’re not?” Summer asked.

“Please. You gave her the professional equivalent of an—” she glanced at Aurora, “eff off and then I assume you immediately made a list targeting which of Katherine’s contributors to go after for Thrive.”

“You’ve learned a lot about my diabolical nature,” Summer winked.

“So you said no?” Phoebe prompted.

“Were you tempted?” Eva wondered.

“Can I have more cake?” Aurora asked, tugging on Gia’s sleeve.

The questions flew fast and loud. Joey sipped her very good margarita and watched. Hostessing wasn’t so hard, she decided. Scrub a toilet, make some sugary treats, add alcohol, hide the conspicuous roses and candied bacon from Jax that arrived that afternoon and viola, everyone entertains themselves.

“So, Joey,” Eva began, dropping down on the ottoman next to Joey’s chair. “What’s it like running stables?”

“Exhausting and dirty, why?”

Phoebe snorted. “Don’t let her fool you, Eva. Joey was born to do what she does. She loves it.”

“Did you always know you’d want to stay around here?” Eva asked.

It’s home,” she shrugged. And it was. Blue Moon Bend, Pierce Acres, the stables. It was where she belonged.

Eva smiled sweetly. “You don’t like me asking all these questions, do you?”

“Not particularly.”

Eva laughed. “I just like to know what makes people tick. You know, peel back the layers.”

“My layers are fine where they are.”

“Consider it research for a freelance assignment. I think it’s fascinating, seeing women who aren’t afraid to go out and follow their dreams. You know? Someone who believes in building exactly the kind of life they want and then going out and getting dirty and making it happen.”

That’s what she had done, wasn’t it? She wanted a quiet life with her horses and her privacy and that’s exactly what she’d built. Fences and walls.

“I think it’s brave for a woman to carve out an unconventional life,” Eva continued.

Joey didn’t feel brave. She felt safe. And that was a distinct difference.

“Does anyone know what the guys are up to tonight?” Gia asked, checking the clock on the mantel. Beckett’s supposed to be picking up Rora five minutes ago.”

Summer frowned. “They were awfully cagey about it. All I got from Carter was ‘I’m helping Jax.’”

“Hmm,” Phoebe said, her eyes darting to Joey. “Hmm,” she said again.

“What?”

“Maybe it’s a surprise for you?” Gia ventured. “Rumor has it two dozen roses were delivered here yesterday.”

“You know, I did hear Phyllis at the post office talking about Joey’s new meat of the month club,” Phoebe mentioned.

Shit.
Now she was going to have to share. And she hated sharing.

“Come on, Joey,” Summer wiggled her eyebrows. “He kissed the bejeezus out of you in the office. It’s a miracle Gia and I didn’t end up with second-degree burns from the sparks you two threw off.”

“Why do I feel like I opened my door to a bunch of Anthony Berkowiczes?” Joey groaned.

She wilted under the weight of their expectant stares.

“No, we are not together. We can’t even have a conversation without it turning into a fight.”

“Sometimes a good fight just means there’s strong feelings,” Emma offered.

“Yeah, and sometimes a fight just means you don’t like each other. Not all of us are so forgiving.”

“Hey, I’m his mother,” Phoebe interjected. “I’m legally required to forgive him. I think Joey has a right to make him squirm. If I weren’t such a wonderful, enlightened, biologically-obligated woman, I’d be holding a bit of a grudge, too.”

“Did Jax ever tell anyone why he left?” Gia asked.

Phoebe met Joey’s gaze before shaking her head. “As far as I know, no. But he must have had a good reason. The night of the accident he refused to leave your side. He wouldn’t even let the nurses stitch him up.” Phoebe cleared her throat. “Your father didn’t, ah … agree with Jax’s presence. John was trying to find a doctor and your mother and I thought we were going to have to call security on them.”

“What happened?” Joey asked despite herself.

“You woke up and told them to knock it off,” Phoebe said with a wry smile. “You took your dad’s hand and Jax’s hand and that was the end of it.”

Joey’s memories from that night were pretty foggy. But one thing was clear to her, something that night had made Jax decide to leave Blue Moon Bend. She wasn’t sure if she believed as Phoebe did, that there was a very good reason for it.

“On that note, let’s change the subject to something that doesn’t involve penises,” Joey said, jumping up and heading for the blender. “For instance, how crazy is it that Summer I-Plan-Everything doesn’t want to know the babies’ genders? How’s the house building, Phoebe? And what’s new at the studio, Gia? Tie anyone up in knots, yet?”

The conversation mercifully moved away from Jackson Pierce.

They topped off glasses and refilled plates while Phoebe told them that the floor plans had been finalized and building would begin in April. She was in the middle of explaining the bunkhouse to Emma and Eva when Joey’s phone signaled a text from Jax.

C
an
you meet me on the porch?

J
oey frowned
at the screen and looked at her front door.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

Joey shook her head and got out of her chair. “Nothing, I’ll be right back.” She ducked out the door, closing it behind her. Jax was standing on the porch steps his breath a cloud in the soft glow of the porch light. He had one hand behind his back.

She crossed her arms to ward off the chill. “You’re interrupting Girls Night, Ace.”

He smiled, that slow, sexy, underwear-disintegrating smile. “I have something for you.”

“I already got the bacon.” The roses were a beautiful cliché, but the bacon? God that man knew her vices.

“Something else. Something you’ve wanted for a long time.”

“Don’t you dare take your pants off,” she hissed. “There’s a houseful of women staring at you!”

“Interesting and flattering that that’s where your mind goes, but I’m talking about this,” he tugged on a green lead he had tucked behind his back. A wire-haired mutt scampered up the steps stopping neatly at her feet. The dog was wriggling with excitement.

“This is Waffles,” Jax said. “He’s yours.”

Waffles stared up at her with bi-colored eyes, his furry head cocked like he was waiting for her to say something.

“You got me a dog?” Joey asked incredulously. “A dog named Waffles?” The dog’s tail swished.

“As soon as I saw his name I knew he was yours.”

He remembered. Jax remembered. She had been nine when she asked for a dog for her birthday. When that day came and went without a four-legged best friend, Joey had started saving her allowance for a dog.

After months of saving, she sat down at the breakfast table, her mason jar stuffed full of allowance, and asked her father to take her to the rescue in town. That morning was the first time her father really let her down.

He’d refused. Told her he wasn’t going to let her waste her money on some flea-bitten mutt. They didn’t need a dog in the house and they sure as hell weren’t going to get one.

Jax had found her later that morning pouring her heart out to one of the ponies in his family’s barn and when he finally coaxed the story out of her, he announced that he’d share his dog with her. And he had. They’d spent hours together training the reluctant Pancake, a lazy lab content to spend his days swimming in the pond and sleeping on the porch.

She’d always meant to get herself a dog after college, but had never gotten around to it.

“Hi, Waffles,” she said, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice. Waffles’ scraggly tail thumped on the porch boards and he scooted an inch closer to her. Joey knelt down and stroked Waffles’ head.

“I can’t believe you got me a dog,” she said again.

“The rescue said he’s part cattle dog and part a bunch of other things. They think he’ll do great here on the farm,” Jax said, sitting down on the top step and scrubbing a hand over the ecstatic Waffles’ belly. “You’re killing me here, Jojo. Did I do good or are you pissed?”

A ghost of a smile played over her lips. “You did good, Jax.”

He blew out a cloud of breath and she felt it on her face. They were close, leaning over the wriggling bag of fur. Their gazes met. Joey wet her lips, considering. Jax’s hand grasped her wrist. He leaned in and she let him, watching those gray eyes and perfect lips close in.

The doorknob jiggled behind them and they broke apart. “But, Mama! Dere’s a puppy out dere,” Aurora screeched. “I hafta see the puppy!”

“Rain check?” Jax murmured.

“We’ll see,” Joey sighed. “What’s that barking? Oh, my God.”

Beckett’s SUV pulled up with dogs hanging out of every open window.

“You said you’d give me ten minutes,” Jax growled.

“That was before Meatball puked,” Beckett yelled. They all came pouring out, men and dogs from the SUV and women from the house, converging on the porch in a chaotic tornado of paws and questions and tangled leashes.

“What did you do?” Joey mouthed to Jax.

He pulled her and Waffles out of the fray and into the house, shutting and locking the door behind them.

“That circus outside wasn’t part of the plan, but this was.” He leaned in and brought his lips to hers.