Jonquils for Jax (Blueberry Lane 3 - The Rousseaus #1) - Katy Regnery Page 0,57
as she reached up to swipe any remaining tears away. Then suddenly she sat up, reaching for her bra and slipping her arms through the straps. “I’m dying for a swim. You?”
I’m dying to lie here until we start round two, he thought, but he grinned at her instead. “I guess I could use one.” He sat up, leaning back on his hands, watching her as she adjusted her breasts into the cups of the bra and fastened it in the back. “I miss having a pool.”
“Did you have one in your apartment building? In Philly?”
“No. At home. When I was a kid.”
She nodded, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Private schools, nannies, and swimming pools. What kind of gardener was your dad anyway?”
“A good one,” he said, jumping up beside her and gesturing to the door. “Lead the way.”
She gave him a look that said she wanted to ask more, but instead she turned and headed through the door that led to the hallway. He grabbed his duffel bag from the floor and followed, his thoughts turning organically to his parents.
When his parents met, his mother was a runner-up at the 1979 Miss New Orleans pageant, and his father had just secured a deal that would change his fledgling business, Thibodeaux Gardening Service, into a company that would eventually become the largest and most high-end landscape design company in southeastern Louisiana, Thibodeaux Landscapers, LLC. So yes, he and his sisters had grown up in a mansion and attended private school…but that didn’t change the fact that his father had grown up on a small Cajun farm located on the banks of the Bayou Teche in Breaux Bridge, the heart of Cajun country. Didn’t change the fact that his father’s strong country accent would always be a barrier between him and the New Orleans elite. Didn’t change the fact that some of the old-money kids at his school had whispered “swamp Cajun” under their breath whenever he was within earshot, even though Gard’s mother’s pedigree was better than some of theirs.
It was an early lesson that money couldn’t buy you everything. It made life nicer and more comfortable, but it didn’t change the fact that his father was a Thibodeaux from the bayou, even if his mother’s maiden name was Heard. It couldn’t buy you acceptance, and it certainly couldn’t buy you happiness—it was up to you to find, make, or pursue it yourself.
Jax slid open the sliding glass door to the pool deck, and he followed her outside into the soupy late-afternoon heat.
“You’d think,” he said, “that growin’ up in Louisiana would’ve given me a high tolerance for humidity.”
She stopped at a lounge chair and turned to face him. “No?”
He shook his head. “No. I hate it as much as I ever did. But it’s not half as bad up here.”
He watched, his expression ravenous, as she shimmied out of the black Lycra workout pants she’d been wearing, revealing black-and-blue boy shorts that matched her sports bra. She was all tan skin and long legs. Tan skin that still tasted sweet and salty on his tongue…long legs that had been wrapped around his waist fifteen minutes ago.
“Damnnnn, Jax.”
She grinned. “Yeah?”
He shook his head and sighed. “Where can I change?”
“Wherever you want,” she said, running over to the pool and jumping in.
Well, merde. He didn’t know where a dressing room was, and she knew it. Left with little alternative, he turned around and, before he could think better of it, pulled down his pants, offering her a fine view of his ass as he leaned down to unzip his duffel bag and pull out some swim trunks. From behind him, he heard her hoot with appreciative laughter, which made him chuckle softly. Looking over his shoulder, all he could see was some blurry gray slate and a large blob of aqua, but he asked into the void, “Like the view?”
“Can’t think of a better one!” came her voice.
He pulled up his swimsuit, then turned around. “Show’s over.”
“That’s sad,” she said.
“If you’re lucky, there might be an encore later.”
He heard her clap and giggle.
“Jax?” he asked.
“Huh?”
His insecurities kicked in. He could either ask her what was between them…or take the chance of bumping into something and tripping while making his way to her…or—
“There’s nothing between you and me,” she said. “Run for it!”
And that’s when it happened.
That was the moment.
His heart burst with love for her, and he ran across the