Five days since I felt, for a moment, that things may have been falling back into place. Lodged back the puzzle piece I threw all over the ground when I left.
I hold myself still, marker and headshot still in hand, as he gets out of his truck. I suck in a breath at the sight of his tight black T-shirt, his jeans and boots covered in dust from clearly working at the ranch, and the black felt cowboy hat sitting on his head.
His eyes home in on me the moment he’s around his truck. “Stalking again?”
I lift my chin, holding firm and wondering if I need to have my defenses up. He seems to tilt from one end to the other on the scale of nice to asshole. “I was here first.”
Jax bites his lip and stops in front of me, shoving a thumb in his front pocket. “So you were.” He nudges my hand, looking at the headshot, and scoffs. “What? Hurting for money and going door-to-door to sell some autographs?”
Hurt lances through me at his words. Not because they are true—if he had any idea how much I’ve made for myself over the years, he would eat his words—but because he just had to be on the asshole side of the scale.
I look at him sadly, fighting back every urge to snap at the man in front of me.
If he had hurt my feelings when we were dating, when we were in high school, I would have ripped him a new one.
But I am an adult now, I am attempting to be mature. Hell, I am going to be a mother.
Not that he’ll ever know that.
That’s the thought that helps me keep my resolve. There’s no reason to get worked up over Jax Cash, or any man for that matter. The stakes I have at hand are far too high for emotion to pull me under.
Without a word, I turn on my heel and head back into my house, Jax right behind me. “Felicity.”
I ignore his soft plea of my name. Clearly, not snapping at him worked to show him what an asshole he was.
It doesn’t matter.
I find Graham again, feeling my ex still right there but focusing on the task. “Graham, what’s your daughter’s name?”
He smiles fondly and says, “Alex.”
“Perfect.” I grin, using a stud in the wall to press my picture to and then signing her name and autographing the picture.
He takes it from me. “Shit, she’s going to freak. Thank you so much, Felicity. You’ve earned me stepdad of the year award.”
I nod, smiling. For a moment, I feel like I did something great. Then I turn and gasp when I remember Jax is right there.
“What are you doing in this house?” Jax demands, his hands now planted on his hips. With his hat on and the solid five or six inches he has on me, he looks imposing.
“You meanmyhouse?” I arch a brow, my finger pointing to my chest. “I’m checking the progress.”
Color drains from his face, and he looks between my eyes, trying to tell if I’m speaking the truth. He always could tell when I was lying, but that was when we were younger. I’ve had a hell of a lot of practice lying in Hollywood, but it doesn’t matter because the only thing I have to lie about is how much he affects me and the little baby growing inside of me right now.
“Your house?” he repeats, but his monotone voice makes me think it’s not a real question.
“Yes. My house. I bought it, and Graham and his crew are getting it ready for me.” I glance around, wondering if anyone is witnessing this confrontation, and realize Graham left, probably to put his picture in his truck. The other guys that are here are in the kitchen.
“Why would you buy a house here?”
I scoff and give a sarcastically infused answer. “Oh, I don’t know, Jax. Maybe because I live here.”
He barks out a laugh, making me jump. “That’s hilarious. Really. You had me going there for a minute.” His expression, clearly full offakehumor, darkens. “There’s no way that right after I move back, you’re back too.”
“Actually, I think I was here first,” I say, admitting that I heard the news when Jax got back.
“No, I was here first,” he says, placing a fist over his chest.
“Technically, I was. I’m two months older than you, remember?” I smile cheekily at him and revel in the brightening of his cheeks.
