Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

Four nights. That woman had been staying with Jax for four nights.

Who was she? How long had they been together? How did Mindi feel about another woman sharing Jax’s bed?

“Why can’t I stop staring out this stupid window?” I muttered to myself as I wiggled the back to my stud earring, trying to slide it on the post. “Just. Go. In.”

This pair was always difficult. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the jewelry and everything to do with the irrational anger coursing through my body. An anger tied directly to that Jeep Wrangler next door.

I dropped my hands and closed my eyes. Then I willed this frustration to manifest somewhere other than my fingers.

It didn’t matter who Jax was fucking. It did. Not. Matter. He wasn’t mine. I had no claim over him and no reason to be jealous. So why couldn’t I stop glancing out the living room window?

Was it because I’d caught a glimpse of his abs? It had to be. No real-life human being had abs like that. Jax had underwear-model abs. Chris Hemsworth Thor–style abs. Cover-his-skin-in-whipped-cream-and-lick-him-clean abs. And I didn’t even like whipped cream—it gave me heartburn.

But just the glimpse I’d caught of his washboard stomach on Tuesday had haunted my thoughts. For days, my skin had felt too sensitive and my body too warm. If I even so much as thought of Jax’s name, a dull throb would pulse in my core.

Was it really even Jax and his magnificent abs? Or was this sexual frustration due to the fact that I’d starved myself of physical touch these past few months?

I missed holding hands. I missed kissing. I missed hugs.

I missed strong arms and the way it felt to be held as I fell asleep. I missed Eddie. I missed my friends and my home and . . . my life.

But it was someone else’s home now, wasn’t it? It was someone else’s job. Someone new was sleeping in my old bedroom. Someone new was working the Saturday shift with my friends.

Before I’d moved to Montana, I’d been the assistant manager at a wellness resort in Sacramento for five years.

After graduation, most of my friends had gone to college while I’d chosen to stay home and work, taking night classes until I’d finally earned my degree. Those had been a hard five years, but I’d worked my ass off, and my job at Serenity Rise Wellness Resort had been my reward.

The friends I’d made at work had been good friends. Maybe not lifelong friends, but good friends. We’d bonded over hectic schedules and long hours. Over snobby guests and ridiculous complaints. Over Friday-night martinis and Vanderpump Rules.

Our text thread had been quiet lately.

They probably had a new group chat going by now.

I’d hoped to make new friends in Montana, but it was different being the manager, not assistant manager. I couldn’t gripe about the boss because I was the boss. The desk clerks wouldn’t invite me to girls’ night. The housekeepers didn’t gossip with me in the halls.

It was hard not to think Montana was yet another bad decision in a line of horrible choices I’d made over the past ten years. But at least it was cheap. The cost of living was a fraction of what it had been in California, and my paycheck was over double what I’d been making at Serenity.

Sure, moving here had come with a cost—my happiness. Though I hadn’t exactly been a beaming ray of sunshine in California. But that light, however dim, was beginning to fade.

It was ironic, really. The first day I’d come here had started so badly with that incident at the grocery store. Then Jax had chased it all away. For three incredible blocks, back and forth, I’d thought it was all going to be okay. That I’d made a good choice. That Montana was right.

Except it wasn’t right. This wasn’t okay. I wasn’t okay.

I hadn’t been okay for a long, long time.

But I’d fake it. I’d keep faking it.

The sound of a door slamming put a halt to my pity party and tugged my gaze to the window. The woman who’d been sharing Jax’s bed for four nights waved from behind the steering wheel. The lights from his porch were bright enough to illuminate her smile.

Jax, standing barefoot in his doorway, waved back. His jeans hung low on his hips. His white T-shirt strained across his chest. His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

Probably from a lazy afternoon of sex and napping.

The grin he sent her made my insides twist.

“Ugh.” This jealousy was eating me alive. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.

The woman was gorgeous. Of course she was gorgeous. Men who looked like Jax Haven were always attached to beautiful women.

Her brown hair was a few shades lighter than mine, the strands highlighted with blonde and caramel. She had a tall, willowy frame. Before her, I’d never seen a woman in Wranglers, but they made her legs look a mile long.

She was the cowgirl to Jax’s cowboy. A perfect pair.

She belonged. And I did not.

Montana was not for me, but I had no choice but to tough it out through summer. Then, once the busy tourist season was over, I’d find a place to start fresh.

It wouldn’t be California. After everything that had happened, I couldn’t go back there now. Maybe Eddie would have a place in mind.

Before Jax caught me spying, I walked away from the window and focused on my earrings, finally getting them clasped. Then I retreated to the bathroom to blow-dry my own hair for tonight’s party.

My black dress was already laid on the bed. The puffed sleeves cuffed at my wrists. The style was fitted around my torso and loose around the hips as the skirt draped to my knees. But the slit that ran up one side gave it a sexy edge, and the neckline was cut into a wide square that exposed my collarbones.

The material wasn’t high quality. I’d bought it on sale. It was plain—boring. But this was a work function, and it was work appropriate. Besides that, it had been cheap. Someday, when I had time and money and lived somewhere with a mall, I’d go shopping again. For now, Amazon Prime was my best option.

With my hair dried and straight, I curled the ends to give it a bit of volume. Then I applied a heavier than normal layer of makeup, taking time to paint my lips a deep crimson red.

I was just fastening on my necklace—a gold chain with small diamond pendant that matched my earrings—when a knock came at the door. Considering that only a few people knew I was living in this cabin, it came as no surprise to find Jax standing on the stoop.

“Hi.” His bright-blue eyes crinkled at the sides as the corner of his mouth turned up in that smirk.

My heart skipped.

Freaking smirk. It really, really shouldn’t be hot. Or his cowboy hat.

It was black and clean, a different hat than the one he wore around the ranch for work. The brim shaded his face just enough to define the lines and angles of his features. His jaw, missing its normal stubble, might as well have been chiseled granite.

He wore a starched white shirt and dark jeans that draped to his polished square-toed boots. His belt buckle was the same that he wore every day, but it seemed shinier tonight, the gold and silver catching the light from inside.

Three months ago, I would have said a man in a fitted tux was the epitome of attractive. But apparently a spiffed-up cowboy was my new weakness. My knees wobbled.

Not once in my life had I experienced wobbling knees.

I wasn’t a fan.

“You look beautiful.” His voice was deep and smooth, missing that gravelly edge, like he’d stripped it away along with the dusty jeans and whiskered jaw.

“Thank you.” What the hell was wrong with my voice? Why was it all breathy and pathetic?

Stupid freaking cowboy hat.

He stared at me, his gaze taking a lazy trail over my face, down my dress, and to the strappy heels on my feet.

The shoes were entirely impractical for the snow. I’d probably have frostbite before I even arrived at the party, but they’d been an impulse buy from years and years ago. From a time when life had been simpler. From a time when I’d been the type of girl who wore sexy heels and red lipstick.

I didn’t let myself mourn that girl.

There were more important people to miss.

“Figured we could ride together,” he said.

“Oh, um, I was going to drive.” So I could leave early.

“Planning on sneaking out once the band starts?”

Damn it. “Yes,” I admitted.

“Make you a deal. We’ll ride together, and if you’re having a miserable time, I’ll bring you home.”

“Or we can just drive separately. Then I can leave whenever I want.”

“You can still leave whenever you want. But if I drive, you can relax. Have a few glasses of champagne.”

Champagne? No, there would be no champagne. When it came to alcohol, I was a lightweight, and the last thing I needed was to get tipsy and lose my verbal filter at a party with every one of my employees in attendance. “This is a work event.”

“A work event with champagne and whiskey.” He winked. “My favorite type of work event.”

“I still think I should drive. That way, you can stay.”

He shook his head, that devilish grin stretching. “Do you have to make things so difficult?”

“If difficult means logical.”

Jax laughed, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“We’ll take your car.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Shit. “That’s not what I meant.”

He smirked. “I know.”

I rolled my eyes. “How will you get home?”

Another woman? Mindi, maybe? Or would the woman with the Jeep come to his rescue? Maybe she’d just gone home to change for the party.

“Either I’ll leave with you, or West can give me a lift.”

“Oh.” Did that mean the Jeep wouldn’t be parked outside his house tonight?

“Are you ready, or do you need a bit longer?” he asked.

“You’re not going to drive separately, are you? If I said I needed a few more minutes, you’d just wait for me.”

His eyes sparkled. “She’s catching on.”

“Fine.” I sighed and held up a finger. “One minute.”

His chuckle echoed through the house as I rushed to get my purse from the bedroom, do a last-minute check of my hair, and spritz on perfume.

Really, I needed five more minutes, but I didn’t want him to come inside. I was already struggling to forget just how comfortable and natural he looked in the kitchen the other day.

With my coat on and my keys in hand, I joined Jax outside. My heels clicked on the concrete landing. I hissed as I took that first step off the step and into the snow.

Jax’s hand was instantly at my elbow, his grip light and ready to catch me if I slipped. “Careful.”

“These shoes aren’t snow appropriate.”

“I won’t let you fall.”

My eyes flew to his as I froze.

No one had ever said that to me before.

It meant nothing. He was being literal. But something about his statement made my heart climb into my throat. Like maybe he knew I’d been walking on my own for too long.

“Good?” Jax asked.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and took baby steps until I reached my car. Then I slid behind the wheel as Jax closed the door and rounded the hood for the passenger side.

The moment he was inside, I realized the magnitude of my mistake.

The Mazda was not a large car, but Jax was a large man.

His legs were so long that his knees pressed against the dash. His hat skimmed the ceiling. And his shoulders were so broad that his frame was just inches from my own.

The scent of his cologne filled my nose. Masculine and woodsy and clean with that hint of citrus. It wasn’t a spicy scent. It wasn’t overpowering or sharp. It was . . . Jax.

Delicious, tempting, playboy Jax who was not my boss but sort of was my boss. Off-limits, destined-to-break-my-fragile-heart Jax.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked.

I shook my head and started the car, then drove us to the lodge, ignoring the heat that radiated off his body. I ignored a lot on that drive, like the way his jeans molded to bulky thighs. Like his long fingers tapping on his knee and how never in my life had I found a hand so hypnotic. Like the way his shirt strained slightly at his biceps.

I blocked it all out and drove, following the trail of tire tracks that cut through the snow until we were parked outside the lodge. For once, I was grateful for winter. A clump of snow on my bare toes felt like a welcome relief to the heat coursing through my veins. The cold air cooled the flush in my cheeks before we entered the event space.

“Wow,” I whispered as we walked inside the venue.

Lights had been strung across the rafters, casting the enormous room with a golden glow. Tall tables covered in white linens filled the open space. Employees and their dates milled around the room carrying cocktail glasses and flutes of champagne.

We’d had one wedding at the resort since I’d started working here, but it had been an intimate affair with an outdoor ceremony. They’d used the dining room rather than the former barn for the reception.

They’d missed out. If I ever got married, I wanted to celebrate in a place like this. A place kissed by soft, golden light and magic swirling in the air.

At the far end of the room was a dance floor positioned in front of a raised stage. The live band hadn’t started playing yet, though their equipment was in place. Quiet background music drifted from the speakers, mingling with the hum of conversation.

In the corner, the bartender was grabbing beers from a stock tank filled with ice and mixing drinks while waiters carried trays of champagne and wine.

Our event coordinator, wearing a fitted green dress, waved when she spotted me at the doors. She was one of the few employees who’d be working tonight. Even Reid, our chef, was on orders to simply enjoy himself. We’d hired a local caterer to craft hors d’oeuvres and a buffet.

“Can I get you a drink?” Jax asked, helping me out of my coat.

I hadn’t planned on drinking, but as a waitress passed with a tray of champagne, my mouth watered. “That would—”

“Uncle Jax!” Two twin boys crashed into his legs. Their tiny arms and legs wrapped around Jax’s calves.

It was impossible not to smile at Kade and Kohen Haven. They were as adorable as they were rambunctious.

Jax’s face softened as he bent to ruffle their blond, curly hair. “How are the monsters tonight?”

“Hungry.” Kade pointed toward the table teeming with appetizers.

Kohen grinned up at his uncle. “Bet you can’t walk all the way over there with us on your legs.”

“Bet you can’t hang on while I do.” Jax picked up the leg with Kade, swinging it wide and shaking it furiously until both boys dissolved into a fit of giggles.

He laughed as he took two steps, then glanced over his shoulder.

I lifted a hand to wave.

He jerked up his chin.

With my coat on a hanger, I affixed my polite, professional smile and slipped into the fray.

For hours, I mingled with employees, meeting their spouses and significant others. I sipped from a single glass of champagne until the bubbles were gone and the half-full glass was warm. I listened from the opposite end of the room as the band played its first set.

But no matter what I was doing, where I looked, I could always find Jax.

There was an invisible tether between us. A tie that stretched tighter as the night progressed. He laughed with some of the guys as they clustered near the bar, shooting me that smirk when I glanced over. When his grandmother pulled him into a hug, his smile widened when he caught me watching. Every time I moved from one table to the next, he seemed to shift, too, keeping me in his line of sight.

It was unsettling how often I searched for him throughout the night.

It was unsettling how often his blue gaze was waiting.

The woman from the Jeep hadn’t come to the party. Mindi had brought along a date.

Jax had come alone.

Actually, he’d come with me.

This wasn’t a date. I refused to think of it as a date. But it was . . . something. The same something as the day at the grocery store.

A break in the music stole everyone’s attention. Onstage, West held out a hand to help Indya up the rise. She looked stunning in a burgundy wrap dress that hugged her pregnant belly. The hem swished above a pair of intricately embroidered boots.

“Where’s Jax?” she asked into the microphone, scanning faces. When she spotted him, she waved him up to the stage.

He took it with a quick step, lifting a hand to greet the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said, smiling into the microphone as she kept her hand laced with West’s.

Jax took up the space beside his brother, glancing out over the room. Searching. His gaze locked on me, and the corner of his mouth turned up.

My cheeks flamed as a few people close by glanced to me instead of the stage.

Why couldn’t I look away? Why couldn’t I break that stare?

Jax held me with those striking eyes as Indya continued. Through a crowded room, through noise and laughter and clapping, he held me captive.

“We’re so grateful to celebrate you tonight,” Indya said, her voice a dull murmur beyond my pounding heart. “This resort would not be the same without you. So on behalf of West, Jax, and myself, let’s raise our glasses to another incredible year at the Haven River Ranch.”

Glasses lifted as the crowd whistled and cheered. And even as Jax brought his own glass of ice and amber liquid to his lips, his focus stayed on me.

I felt the shift in the room. It wasn’t just those nearby who glanced my way. Everyone in the party seemed to follow the path of Jax’s gaze, including Indya and West.

What was I doing? This was not why I’d come to Montana. Not for a romance with my sort-of boss who’d had another woman in his bed for the past four nights.

It took everything I had, but my eyes dropped to the floor.

The wave of Jax’s disappointment hit me from the stage.

There was a shuffling onstage as the band resumed their places. As they began a new song, I slipped toward a wooden pillar, doing my best to hide behind the beam.

Time to go home. Alone. Jax would have to get a ride from West.

The crowd shifted as people moved toward the dance floor. The music was louder, livelier, than it had been earlier. A crush of people was spinning and swaying. Smiling.

With the added noise, I made my break for the door. I hadn’t even made it five steps before a large, warm hand circled my elbow. The same hand that had kept me from falling outside the cabin earlier.

Jax slid to my side, blocking my path like he’d done in the stables earlier this week. He stood just as close. Too close. “Hey, you.”

My eyes dropped to his mouth automatically, lost in the way his lips formed words. I really needed to stop looking at his mouth. Our eyes collided.

It was worse. So much worse.

I saw the desire swirling in his blue eyes. It was the same desire I’d found in them all night. The rest of the party faded to a blur with one inhale of his cologne.

“Would you dance with me?”

It wasn’t the first time in the past ten years that a man had asked me to dance. But it was the first time that I was tempted to say yes. So, so tempted.

Except there would be no dancing. Even if I got married in a room like this someday, I wouldn’t dance.

“No, thank you.”

Any other man would have let it slice his ego. Any other man would have let me leave. Not Jax. That sexy smirk stretched across his lips as he inched impossibly close. So close I could feel the heat from his chest. So close I had to lean back to keep his gaze.

“Not a dancing fan?” he asked.

“The last memory I have of my parents was them dancing together.” The truth flew past my lips. I regretted it the moment the words escaped. Oh God. Why had I said that? “I don’t know why I just said that.”

His expression softened. “Sasha, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. “I just don’t dance.”

A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne.

Jax snagged a glass and handed it over. “All right. No dancing. How about a drink?”

I took the flute from his hand, raised it to my lips, and chugged until it was empty. “Good idea.”