Jonquils for Jax (Blueberry Lane 3 - The Rousseaus #1) - Katy Regnery Page 0,31

wanted to do with her life. She’d graduated college with honors six years ago, but she hadn’t found her thing yet, and then—”

“Her thing?”

“You know…the thing she wanted to do with her life. She’d tried raising horses. She’d tried becoming a lawyer. She’d tried the family business…”

“And she tried makin’ a movie.”

Jax nodded. “She did.”

“And…did she like it? Any of it?”

“She loved horses, but not breeding them. She loved her brothers, but not working with them. She liked that studying the law gave her purpose and direction, even though she didn’t love the law itself. She loved making The Philly Story,” she said in a passionate whisper, looking up at him, meeting the intense gaze in his dark eyes. “She loved it more than anything.”

“But you didn’t love livin’ in…”

“Beverly Hills,” she said.

“Well, there’ve got to be lots of ritzy suburbs outside of LA, right? So buy a house in one of those neighborhoods and get out of the city.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, but since she’d returned home to Haverford, she couldn’t imagine leaving it again. And that was when she made her decision—right then and there with a cold bottle of Abita in her hand and this beautiful man she barely knew helping her sort out her life: Whatever plans lay ahead for Jax, they didn’t include returning to LA. She was staying in Haverford near her family. And what a burden lifted from her heart as she felt the rightness of her decision.

Gard continued. “You said didn’t like constant partyin’. The people who surrounded you in that life.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t.”

“Well, you’re well rid of it then. Be more choosy about the parties you attend. And make some real friends. Find people who care about you, who will…anchor you, protect you, make you feel safe.”

She nodded, loving these words, her words, falling from his lips. “Yes.”

He continued. “You didn’t like the business of breedin’ horses, but you liked the animals themselves. You didn’t like the family business, but you love your family.”

“Right.” She leaned forward, rapt. “So…?”

“So move to the suburbs, stop partyin’, find some solid friendships, buy a few horses, and make time for your family.”

“Is it that easy?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know why not. World’s your oyster, Duchess.”

Wide-eyed and stunned, she stared at him, breath escaping her throat to utter a single word. “Yes!” A happy giggle bubbled up through her throat “Okay! I will.” She beamed at him. “Then what?”

He furrowed his brow for a moment. “Well, since you loved makin’ a movie…make another.”

Her shoulders deflated. Her hopeful smile inverted into a frown. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because movies are made in LA, and I don’t want that—”

“That life? You don’t have to have that life,” he said. He lifted his beer and took a long sip, the muscles in his throat working as Jax stared at him, mesmerized. Finally he lowered the bottle and grinned at her. “Duchess, buildin’ a life is about takin’ the pieces that matter and figurin’ out how to fit them together. You already know what you want. So fit them together.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Is that what you’ve done? By quitting your job and coming here?”

“I didn’t quit.” His eyes, which had been warm and helpful, shuttered closed. When he opened them again, they were significantly cooler. “Anyway, we’re not talkin’ about me.”

“Why not?” asked Jax, whose questions for and about Gardener Pierre Thibodeaux felt endless. “Let’s talk about you.”

Chapter 7

Gard stared back at her, uncertain of how to respond, his annoyance quick and hot.

She had stumbled into his life on Saturday night, but since then she’d been like a bad penny, turning up again and again, contriving ways to see him and talk to him and insert herself into his life. Her body distracted him. Her unhappiness bothered him. Her presence shined a light on the shortcomings in his own life, and he didn’t feel like looking at them. And in such moments as these, his first instinct was to tell her to get lost.

But then he remembered how he’d felt right before she’d showed up this evening and realized he didn’t want her to go. He didn’t know what was going on between them—he was definitely attracted to her and he was fairly certain she was attracted to him. He lived ten minutes away from her and had promised to teach her self-defense in very close and private quarters. She said she wanted to be friends, and while he really didn’t know