One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,33

head. “Forget it. It happened a lifetime ago.”

She caught hold of his arm. “It was our lifetime, our relationship.” Her voice hitched. “I need to know.” She tipped her head, mentally listing everything she’d recently learned. Lucas was somehow involved in the breakup. A sliver of something rustled through her. She tried to catch it, but it was too slippery. She spoke aloud, sharing her thought process. “Lucas is a good-looking guy.” It gave her a ping of satisfaction to see Jaxson’s stricken expression, to know that he cared so much. “However, he’s not my type.” She gave Jaxson a meaningful look. “I prefer the hotshot cowboy types.”

A goofy grin tumbled over his lips.

She continued. “I can’t in any shape or form imagine that I would have ever been attracted to Lucas, so whatever it was that broke me and you up … it had to be something else.” She tried to get a read on Jaxson’s expression, but he was holding his cards too close.

“Let it go,” he said firmly.

She took in a quick breath. “Okay, for now I will.” He looked relieved. She squared her jaw. “But my memories won’t stay gone forever,” she warned. “I can feel them trying to come back.”

He looked pleased. “That’s a good thing.”

“I think so.” Even as she spoke the words, her stomach knotted. She thought of her mother who had Alzheimer’s. Lemon wished she could picture her, but she was only a foggy shadow. A longing swept over her. She missed her mother. Yet, how could she miss someone she couldn’t remember? Lemon’s thoughts went back to her and Jaxson. There were a few things she needed to get out while she could. But first, she needed to put her fears to rest about him being a player. “Tell me about Miss Jumbo Chest Barbie.”

A cackle sputtered from his throat as his shoulders shook, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. His laughter was infectious, causing her to giggle. He clutched his torso. “Stop making me laugh. It hurts.”

“I’m sorry.” She compressed her lips to squelch her humor. “Come on, Jaxson, I know you’re a red-blooded man, but even you have to admit that Tillie is way over the top. That woman has had enough plastic surgery to fund an entire medical practice.”

More laughter chortled from his throat. “St—op!” he pled.

“Okay,” she zipped her lips, her own mouth quivering with laughter.

He mopped his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, Tillie is a lot. I can only handle her in small doses.”

“No wonder,” she said darkly. She glanced toward the kitchen table, remembering the picnic basket. “I guess we could see what Jumbo Chest brought to eat. Maybe that’ll hold us over until we can order pizza.”

He grinned. “You are something,” he said admiringly. “Speaking of the pizza, should we go ahead and order it while we’re waiting to hear from Daddy or the doc?”

“Not yet.”

He gave her a questioning look.

She sucked in a breath, gathering her courage. “There’s something I need to talk to you about first.”

“Okay,” he said cautiously.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said … about seeing me at the rodeo.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence that I was at the rodeo and then standing in the road, a half mile from your house?”

He crooked a grin. “I guess God put you in my path.”

Unexpected warmth flowed through her, causing her eyes to collect moisture. “That too,” she said with a soft smile. God is good! So very good. Tingles pinged through her when he reached for her hand, his thumb stroking tantalizing circles over her skin. Jaxson had no idea what his mere touch did to her. No wonder he had so many women throwing themselves at him. It wasn’t just Jaxson’s good looks that drew attention. Rather it was the essence of the man. His stable confidence, the defiant set of his jaw, his dark eyes that radiated such vitality and adventure. The musical quality of his masculine voice, the way he looked at her. There were lots of shiny shoes that looked terrific on the rack, but to get one that looked great and fit like a glove. Well, that was a different scenario altogether.

“You’re feeling better,” she said in relief.

A crooked grin tugged at his lips. “The ibuprofen’s kicking in.”

His touch evoked aching ribbons in her stomach. Despite all the obstacles between them—his long line of admirers, her memory loss, the terror she couldn’t face—she longed to kiss him again. To feel