The Last Second Chance: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 3) (9 page)

J
ax kicked back
on the rickety desk chair and yanked his shirt over his nose.

“Christ, Meatball. What did you eat?”

The chubby beagle under his feet didn’t bother pretending to be embarrassed about filling Jax’s bedroom with a noxious cloud of dog farts.

“Your brother is disgusting,” Jax told Valentina, who stretched her massive black and white great Dane body across the double bed before flopping back onto her side. The dogs enjoyed keeping him company whenever Carter and Summer were out.

Jax glanced at the clock on his computer screen. It was after seven and the January sun had set ages ago. He’d purposely kept his distance from Joey for the last two days. With the new horses and the partner news, she’d need time to process.

Otherwise she might be likely to take a swing at him.

So he was using his time wisely and trudging through a draft of the screenplay that he wondered if he’d ever finish.

He made a point never to get worked up about a project. Never bothered worrying about failure. Jax had been through enough option periods on spec scripts to know projects fell through more often than not. In his young career he’d been lucky enough to have a couple of notable projects make it to the big screen…and a dozen more rejected ones sitting in an archive file on his computer.

Most of his work was done on assignment by production companies, which meant his teenage obsession with shoot ‘em up blockbusters was finally paying off. However, every once in a while, he snuck through a spec script. His very first green light had been on spec, and while it hadn’t exploded at the box office, it had caught the eye of the right executives at the right time. He’d built his career carefully, choosing projects that he knew intuitively were the right ones. He’d even begun branching out into producing recently, something he planned to explore again with this project.

This script, another spec, was personal. He had some nerves tied up in this one. Not for the industry’s reaction, or the critics. He could give a damn about them. But this time the critics that mattered would be his family, his town. Joey.

Jax liked the process of writing screenplays. Liked the long, tedious hours of creation, the satisfaction of finishing a project crafted from your best effort, and then the practice of letting go once. Somehow, it reminded him of helping his father on the farm. The endless toiling. The gratifying last look through dirt and sweat at a freshly planted field. And the hope that the rains would come, the crops would grow, and the cycle would continue for another season, another generation.

He’d learned so much from John Pierce. Absorbed more than he had been aware of, until his father was no longer walking the fields. Writers write what they know, however every time Jax had tried to take an unbiased look at his father, he came up empty on the man’s flaws.

In Jax’s experience, everyone was deeply flawed. But his father had been a man above men. Quiet and calm, he dealt with the chaos of three boys with the patience of a saint. Finding words to be too complex to use to change minds and attitudes, he preferred to lead by example.

And by example, he’d shown his sons how to live. Treading lightly on the earth, moving easily with the natural rhythms of the world. Honoring where you came from while always sharing what you were lucky enough to have.

John Pierce was a hero to Jax. And his brothers had risen to the challenge, as well. Carter went to war to defend the land he so loved. And when he came home, wounded and fractured, he let the land and the people help him rise again. Beckett learned and led. He had his father’s patience and used it as mayor of Blue Moon. It was always family first with Beckett and that family was never limited by blood.

As the youngest, Jax had always known the subtle pressure of a family tradition of goodness. His teachers remembered the older brothers’ accomplishments and expected similar results from him. Pierce men were men to be counted on, protective partners, loyal friends, and trustworthy leaders. It wasn’t until he was a teenager that he started to realize the enormity of the responsibility of being a Pierce.

At first it had irritated, then scraped, and by the time he was a senior facing his future it had dug deep. That feeling of less than, of never quite measuring up. While Carter deployed with the National Guard and Beckett set his sights on law school, Jax delivered pizzas in his third-hand Camaro and helped his dad on the farm.

If he stayed in Blue Moon he would always be measured by his father, his brothers. There was no room to stand on his own two feet and be only himself.

If he was going to be someone, something, it would have to be beyond this cozy community where history and blood defined you to everyone. If he didn’t leave, he’d always be known as the kid who replaced the principal’s car with a hay wagon on the last day of school. Or the ninth grader caught ditching school to fish and drink pilfered beer with a leggy junior in daisy dukes and an El Camino.

Or the fuck-up who almost killed Joey Greer.

When he tallied up his sins, sometimes he wasn’t sure he made the right call coming home.

His phone vibrated at his elbow and he opened a text from Carter. A close-up of Clementine’s demonic goat face filled his screen.

J
ax’s response was succinct
.

B
ut he grinned
as he tossed his phone back on the desk.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be home,
he thought. Being here to see his brothers settle into married life? Watching his mother shed the grief she’d carried since his father’s death? It was good for the soul.

But waking up in the bed that he’d spent the majority of his life fantasizing about Joey Greer was an entirely different story.

It was time to stop dreaming. He wasn’t going to think about what would happen if his plan failed. Just like with a script. He’d give it his all, do his best. And if Joey never forgave him…well, that wasn’t going to happen, so he wasn’t going to waste any energy on that possibility.

The screen of his phone lit up again. He yanked out the ear buds and with them the 80s monster ballad that had cycled to the top of the playlist on his laptop.

“Nero’s Pizza. You want anchovies on that?” he answered in the thickest Jersey accent he could muster.

“Very funny, favorite son of mine.” His mother’s voice carried a thread of easy affection that had the uncanny ability to untie his knots.

“I bet you say that to all your sons,” he teased.

“Only the handsome ones.”

Jax grinned and shook his head. “You’re buttering me up for something.”

“You’re not only devastatingly handsome, you’re also incredibly astute,” Phoebe cooed, laying it on thick.

Staring out into the dark of a winter evening, Jax could imagine his mother in his mind’s eye pushing her glasses up her nose, an open book in her lap. “Uh-huh. How about you just come out and say what you have to say and we’ll save the compliments for later?”

“Okay, so it’s two things. First thing is, can you change the oil in Franklin’s SUV? The garage is all booked up and I don’t want him to forget about it again.”

“Sure—”

“And since you’re saying yes to things, would you mind being the guest of honor at the Blue Moon Movie Club tomorrow night?”

“Mom—”

“We’re screening
Awake in the Night
, which my deeply talented and model-worthy son wrote,” Phoebe plowed on. “So it would only be the best thing ever if you were our guest of honor so Frieda Blevins will stop gabbing about her niece taking a selfie with that damn vampire actor.”

“Mom—”

“I mean seriously, it was a selfie in a bar. They weren’t on a date, they weren’t working on a movie together, she just stood in front of his table and made duck lips. Now, you actually write movies and you won’t have to do a thing. Just show up and smile. Maybe wave. Say you’ll do it, please?”

Jax waited for a beat to make sure her word volcano was done erupting. The last thing he needed to add to his To Do list was a night out with his mother’s friends so they could nitpick a movie—and potentially him—to death.

“Mother?”

“Jackson?”

“No.”

“I refuse to accept that answer. And let me tell you why…”

Four minutes later, head on his desk, Jax caved.

“Okay. Fine. You gave birth to me and didn’t murder me at any point during my childhood, despite provocation on my part,” he said, reiterating her main points. “I’ll go to your movie night.”

“Really?” Phoebe sounded surprised. “I had more material prepared.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Beckett too much,” he told her.

“It’s Evan. That kid can build a great argument when he wants something. Are you coming to his team’s debate next week?”

“I didn’t realize how demanding family was on time,” Jax teased.

“Well, let me remind you how I basically lived out of our car for three years shuttling you and your brothers to swimming and lacrosse and—”

“For the love of God, Mom,” Jax groaned. “How are the house plans coming?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Oh! We finalized them with Calvin yesterday. I’ll show them to you when you pick me up tomorrow.”

“So we’re driving together?”

“That way you have to show up and can’t pull some fake ‘farm emergency’ situation,” his mom explained cheerfully.

She knew him well.

“Fine, but I’ll drive.” Of all her many positive qualities, being a decent driver was not one of them. Hell, she wasn’t even a passable driver. Growing up, he and his brothers had all experienced carsickness every time Phoebe Pierce took the wheel. Even on the seven-minute drive from the farm to the grocery store. Their vehicular-induced nausea had remained a mystery to Phoebe who insisted that they all just had sensitive inner ears.

“Great! Pick me up at 6:30. And you might want to prepare some material for the Q and A.”

“What Q and A? Mom?” Jax asked, but his mother had already hung up.

He tossed his phone back on the desk. “Well, that sucked,” he said to the dogs. Unimpressed, Meatball opened a bloodshot eye.

Jax ran a hand over his empty stomach. Maybe he’d head downstairs and start dinner for everyone since it looked like Carter and Summer were pulling a late night.

With the dogs on his heels, he padded downstairs barefoot with the intention to rummage through the fridge and cabinets. Grilled cheese sounded like a winner. Maybe he’d stick some bacon in his.

He flipped on the lights and made it two feet into the kitchen before the scene before him processed in his brain.

“Oh my God.” Jax backpedaled and tripped over Valentina, landing on his ass in the doorway of the kitchen. His elbow made contact with the doorframe hard enough for him to see stars.

“Oh my God!” Summer shrieked, making a grab for a too small dishtowel to cover body parts.

“Shit!” Carter, who was at least clothed on his upper half, muttered. He made a dive for Summer’s discarded sweater and in the process tripped and went face first into the upper cabinet. He slid awkwardly to the floor. Meatball waddled around the island to investigate.

Summer hopped off the counter and cowered.

“We didn’t know you were home,” she said, still in shrieking volume.

“Jesus! I can’t believe you guys are allowed to do that when you’re that pregnant!” Jax said, rubbing his eyes to erase the image.

“The doctor said it was fine.” Carter’s muffled reply came from the floor.

“Are you okay, honey?” Summer leaned over to wriggle into her shirt and look at Carter’s face. “Uh-oh. You’re bleeding.”

Jax pulled himself back to his feet.

“Oh, geez. You’re bleeding, too,” Summer said, nodding at Jax’s arm.

“Crap.” He held up his bent elbow to survey the damage.

Summer dug through the pantry until she found the box of bandages they stashed there for emergencies.

“Okay, both of you come here. But no one look anyone else in the eye. Possibly ever again,” she ordered.

Jax shuffled over to the island and Carter dragged himself up to standing.

Jax didn’t have the chance to look his brother in the eye. “At least put it back in your pants!”

Summer tossed Carter the dishtowel. His brother grinned. “Consider it payback for that time you and Mr. Mayor dragged your balls all over my couch.”

“The couch that I fell asleep on last night?” Summer was back to shrieking.

“Put your dick back in your pants and slap a butterfly on your face before you bleed out,” Jax smirked.

“We’re gonna need to work out a system,” Carter said as Summer taped up the cut on his cheek.

“Yeah, it’s called doing it only in the bedroom with the door locked like I wanted to,” Summer grumbled. “And same goes for you when you finally talk Joey into bed.”

“Joey has her own house,” Carter grumbled.

“Stop frowning,” she ordered. “It makes you bleed more.”

Jax slapped some gauze on his elbow. “You know what? How about I go out for dinner and you two can carry on with your depraved behavior in peace?”

Carter reached for the wallet on the island. He pulled out a twenty and tossed it to Jax. “Go buy yourself something greasy.”

“That’s my wallet, ass.”

“That’s my wife’s rack you just saw, dick.”

Summer turned an even deeper shade of scarlet and slapped the bandage in place on Carter’s face. He winced.

“Point taken,” Jax said, tearing the tape with his teeth. “I think I’ll head into town and show off my battle wound. There’ll probably be a lot of questions.”

“You both suck,” Summer groaned.

J
oey’s
first day as partner was a busy one. Between feeding and turn out, she scheduled an end-of-the-day appointment with the large animal vet to check out Apollo and Calypso. She lent a hand with the mucking until Carter took over and then beat her head on her desk over lesson billing and paperwork for an hour before grabbing a thermos of soup and working her way through the stalls inspecting for damage that needed to be repaired.

She often thought of running the stables as playing housemother to a bunch of teenagers. They each had their own personalities and bad habits—including kicking the shit out of the boards beneath their food bucket—and it was her job to keep them as safe and happy as possible.

She collected the lightweight horse blankets from the stall hooks and, after a quick hosing, tossed them in the industrial washer in the supply closet. She’d let Colby deal with the heavier blankets later. Waffles divided his time between following her around like a shadow and sleeping in the dog bed she’d put under the desk in the office earlier that week.

Joey took an early afternoon break to groom a couple of the horses that wouldn’t be used for lessons that night and scheduled a potential tack cleaning pizza party for the end of the month. It helped to have extra hands and, in the past, she’d learned that students and their parents had no problem with lending said hands in return for pizza and a ten percent discount on lesson sessions.

She was reviewing the spring show schedule when she spotted a big blue pick-up pull up to the stables on the security feed.

Dr. Sammy Ames was as good with animals as her mother, the original and now retired Dr. Ames. Joey was thankful that, unlike her mother, Sammy also had a way with people. During a particularly scary colic case two years ago, Joey and Dr. Ames had nearly come to blows. Thankfully, Carter had stepped in with his cool head and a cooler six-pack, saving Joey from a potential arrest.

She met the vet at the door and waved her in.

“How’s it going, Sammy?”

The woman yanked a red wool cap off of her short honey blonde curls and tucked her gloves into the pockets of her down vest. “Not too bad, minus the wind chill. Were you aware that hell froze over, by the way? Other than that it’s been a nice quiet day of vaccinations and well checks.”

“That’s a good day.”

“Sure is,” she said, bending down to ruffle Waffles’ ears and offer him a treat that she pulled out of her pocket. “We finally got the authority from Animal Control to cownap those emaciated jerseys over in Greenburg. Carter got any room for two hungry ladies?”

“I’ll ask him and let you know.” He would, Joey knew. Carter Pierce couldn’t say no to an animal in need.

“I’d appreciate it,” Sammy said. She let out a low whistle when they got to Calypso’s stall. “I feel like I’m meeting a unicorn who just won Miss Universe.”

Joey grinned and Calypso tossed her head in sassy agreement.

“She’s gorgeous and she knows it.”

While Sammy slipped into the stall and started her exam, Joey fired off a text to Carter about the cows and told him to get in touch with Sammy.

“Well, you’ve got yourself the perfect mare here,” Sammy said, finishing up in the stall. “I’m guessing you aren’t going to see anything odd health-wise during her quarantine.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Ready to meet the beast?”

Sammy grinned and rubbed her palms together. “Oh, yeah. Bring him on!”

If she’d been impressed with Calypso, Sammy fell head over heels for Apollo the second he lunged his big head through the stall door.

Joey didn’t bother cautioning Sammy to watch herself in the stall. The woman knew her way around bad-tempered livestock and a seven-figure stallion was no different. She watched the exam with humor as Sammy had to outmaneuver Apollo every step of the way.

“Try that again and we’re gonna have words,” Sammy warned Apollo as he made a move to nip her back.

“He’s a bit of an ass,” Joey warned.

Sammy bent from the waist and slid her hand down the back of his front leg. “Come on, Sexy Ass. Gimmie your damn foot.”

Apollo balked at first, but the vet out-stubborned him.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Sammy asked, putting the foot back down and slapping the stallion on the shoulder.

Apollo gave a bad tempered stamp in reply.

“I think I’m in love,” Sammy sighed, running her hands through her curls. She looked like a fairy with her waif-like build and green eyes, not someone who wrestled stallions and birthed calves.

Joey stroked Apollo’s velvet nose and gave him a peppermint treat for his only mildly offensive behavior. “Yeah, there’s something we women love about an arrogant ass,” Joey sighed. “Want a cup of coffee before you hit the road?”

Sammy glanced at her watch. “More than I want a foot rub. You got fresh?”

“It’s January. We’re making a pot every hour on the hour,” Joey said, leading the way back to her office.

“Have you had Sexy Ass out for a ride, yet?” Sammy asked.

Joey shook her head and poured a steaming mug from the pot in the office. “On my list for today.”

“I hear that list is getting longer now that you’re partner,” Sammy said, accepting the mug.

“How the hell did you hear that? It’s been twenty-four hours.”

“Please. It’s Blue Moon. Colby’s mom got her hair done at the Snip Shack with Elvira Eustace yesterday afternoon. Told everyone all about the new horses and job. If you hadn’t called me this morning I was already planning on coming out to check ‘em out.”

Crap
. That meant she needed to call her parents now rather than in a few days or weeks like she’d been entertaining.

“If your breeding fees aren’t too astronomical, I’ve got a pretty little mare at home ready for her first season this year,” Sammy cocked her head to the side.

“We’ll have to compare astronomicals sometime,” Joey told her.

Over coffee, they nailed down the quarantine period for Apollo and Calypso before they could be introduced to the rest of the horses and settled on a deworming plan for spring.

When she waved Sammy off in the drive, Joey was already reaching for her phone, which was already ringing.

“Hi, Dad.”

“So when were you going to decide to share the big news with your parents?” Forrest demanded gruffly.

Joey kicked the door and committed to a course of action.

“Who ruined my surprise? I’m going to kick their ass.”

“I thought it was common knowledge and you just couldn’t be bothered to share it with us. Your mother is very upset.”

It seemed both parents could play each other as the martyr.

“No one was supposed to know until I told you two. I was going to have you come here and check out the new horses and then tell you. I can’t believe someone ruined this! I wanted to be the one to tell you!” Well, that was mostly true. She bit her lip and waited to see which way her father would go.

“Now, Joey.” Her dad’s voice was placating. “You know you can’t keep secrets in Blue Moon. Those people know what you had for breakfast before you even get out of bed.”

“I just can’t believe someone ruined my surprise. I was so excited to tell you.” And more than a little nervous of his reaction.

“Well, tell me now,” Forrest offered. “I can act surprised over the phone.”

Joey smiled. As annoying as his bravado and protectiveness was, she knew that deep down all her father wanted was for her to be happy. And safe. And not dating Jax.

“Okay, but you have to sound surprised or I’ll still be mad.”

“I’m ready.” He cleared his throat. “So, what’s new with you, Joey?”

“Well, Dad, I have some big news...”

The conversation went better than the cold call she’d anticipated making. Her father had pretended to be thrilled with the partner news and only asked her twice if she was certain it wasn’t some slick move by Jax to worm his way back into her good graces. After her assurance that she’d earned the honor all on her own and his fatherly warning to watch herself around the Pierces, he passed the phone to her mother so they could coordinate a visit to the farm to meet the new horses.

By the time she hung up, she had a headache and overnight visitors on the books.

B
y the time
her last lesson wrapped up at seven, the only thing Joey could think of was a medium rare burger with onion rings. She changed into mostly clean jeans that she found on the floor of her closet and a cozy flannel and pulled on fleece lined snow boots that came to mid-calf to ward off the cold.

She gave Waffles an extra half scoop of food in his dish when he gave her the look of devastation at not being invited to dinner.

“Don’t look at me like that. You don’t want to go. You want to stay here and nap by the fire.”

She could have sworn that his furry lower lip trembled.

“I’ll turn the TV on for you, okay?” She grabbed the remote and flipped through the guide. “What do you want to watch? Cartoons? Sit coms?”

Waffles looked mildly interested in a Spanish soap opera so she left it on and ducked out the front door.

Judging from Shorty’s parking lot, everyone else in Blue Moon had decided they weren’t cooking tonight either. She squeezed her truck into a space at the back of the lot and hustled through the cold to the front door.

She blamed her frostbitten eyeballs for the unfortunate fact that she claimed a barstool without recognizing her neighboring patron.

Jax.

“Well, well. You just made my night,” he said with the trademark Pierce grin responsible for melting the underwear off an entire generation of women.

She debated about getting up and taking a seat on the other end of the bar, but Ed had already shoved a menu at her.

“Didn’t know you had a date, Jax,” Ed Avila, the bartender and owner of Shorty’s grinned.

“Not a date, Ed,” Joey said with a glare.

“None of my business if you two want to have dinner together,” Ed said. “Beer?”

“Yes to the beer.”

“Put it on my tab,” Jax said.

“Don’t you start,” Joey said, shifting her glare to him. “What happened to your elbow?”

Jax glanced down at his bloody sleeve and the makeshift gauze bandage. “I had a bad experience with a dark kitchen.”

“Run backwards into the knife block, Ace?” Joey took a sip of the beer Ed delivered.

“Even worse. I walked in on Carter and Summer on the kitchen island.”

“What were they—Oh my God! That’s disgusting. Are pregnant people even allowed to have sex?”

“That’s exactly what I said. Apparently, it’s no big deal.”

Joey shuddered. “It’s probably a big deal to the babies who are getting poked in the face by—”

“And now I’m never getting that image out of my head,” Jax said, taking a healthy gulp of beer. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“How about heavy duty sanitizers for kitchen surfaces?” Joey offered.

“How about horses?” Jax suggested.

Joey couldn’t stop the grin on her face from spreading.

“You take him out yet?” Jax asked.

“Today. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I put him through his paces in the ring. He’s—”

“Perfect? Incredible? The most amazing specimen of horseflesh you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

She let Jax have his moment. After all, he was the reason she spent a satisfying hour of her afternoon battling it out with the stallion. “Apollo is pretty great,” she admitted.

“Pretty great? That’s the best you can do?” Jax scoffed.

“Shut up. He’s freaking awesome. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you sneak in there with a saddle yet.”

“I wanted you to have the honors,” Jax said, nudging her shoulder with his. “But now that you have, I’ll be in tomorrow. Bright and early.”

“Early?” she said skeptically.

“Well, not first feeding early,” he winked.

“You haven’t been much of a morning person since you came back,” she observed.

“I’m on a deadline and I write at night. But the clock will definitely say a.m. when I show my pretty face in your stables.”

“I’ll look for you at 11:59.”

“You two love birds ready to order?” Ed interrupted.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” Jax teased.

“I’m really tempted to take my business to Peace of Pizza right now,” Joey threatened.

“Only playing, Joey. I know you could take me if you wanted to,” Ed said.

“Keep that in mind when you’re running your mouth.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ed threw a salute. “What can I get you?”

She ordered her burger and onion rings and rolled her eyes when Jax ordered the same thing. “Seriously?”

“What? It sounded good.”

“I’ve been craving a Shorty’s burger and onion rings for the last seven hours. Change your order.”

“Nope.”

He was so good-natured in his response that Joey laughed.

“I’ve missed that sound,” Jax said, suddenly all smoke and heat.

She shook her head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Go from friendly and benign to all come hithery in half a second.”

“Come hithery?” Jax grinned. “I forgot how much I like you.”

“Oh, so it’s
like
now,” Joey said, feeling a chunk of hope and maybe the slightest hint of disappointment.

Jax lifted his glass to his lips, wicked thoughts evident in his eyes. “I never forgot that I love you. But it may have slipped my mind how much I like you.”

Her stomach did a loop-de-loop.

“Here’s a thought. How about we have a nice,
quiet
dinner together without either of us pushing an agenda?”

“A truce?”

“A truce.”

“I’m willing to give it a shot,” Jax said, raising his glass to her. “To truces.”

She brought her pint to his. “To truces.”

In the low light of the bar, he looked like a handsome devil sent here with the sole purpose of tempting her. He looked comfortable, and not just in jeans that probably emphasized his spectacular ass and a bloodied thermal shirt that fit across his muscled chest and shoulders like a tailor sewed it to his body. He was comfortable in his skin. Confident, strong, and completely sure that he’d wear her down.