sweetly, patting his hand.
What. The. Fuck.
What kind of advice was that?
Aw, shit.
He watched her go down the hall before she called back, "Since you're a big fella, be sure to balance your weight on your forearms. You wouldn't want to squish her!"
Jax hung his head in defeat.
Goddamn.
His new life, this new way of living, was a fucking joke on every level.
It was three-thirty and he was still standing in front of his closet trying to decide what to wear. He needed something that said 'Lacey worthy' without trying too hard. Something, too, that didn't scream 'I used to rock and rock hard' plus would hide him from the general public.
No small feat any way you looked at it.
He grabbed the light blue button down and a pair of black jeans.
Boots or no?
It was either boots or his new running kicks. So, boots it was.
Leather jacket?
Nope. A hoodie would be better.
He'd take a hat, just in case.
God, he was nervous.
He'd never asked a girl out. Never taken a girl, one-on-one, anywhere.
Fuck.
Seriously?
He felt like he was going to puke, his stomach was so jacked.
"Jax?" he heard Gram call from downstairs.
"Yeah?" he yelled back.
"Don't over-think this, Hot Stuff," she said. "If you're picking her up at four, you need to get a move on."
He smiled. How did she know?
"Thanks, Grams," he called back and threw on his clothes. He moved carefully down the stairs and took the truck keys from the hook.
"You look perfect, Jax," Grams said, eying him carefully. "Have fun."
Jax didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed the top of her fluffy head, getting a soft sigh, with a back rub, in reply.
Time to go pick up his girl.
Chapter 8
He's here!
Oh, my sweet chocolate. He's here and driving a very clean, very shiny old-fashioned, white pickup truck.
I ripped the holder from my high pony-tail and grabbed my black leather jacket from the chair as I ran down the stairs. I looped my large leather tote from the dining room chair over my shoulder as I made my way across the retail space to the front door.
"Hey," I said, trying really hard not to sound breathy as I greeted him.
"Hey, Lace," he replied, standing on the top step.
Goodness but he looked delish. All tall, broad and just so damn yummy.
I was telling myself that the booming in my chest was from running down the stairs yet you and I both know it really wasn't.
"Ready to go?" he asked. I got caught up in his smile before I realized I needed to answer.
"Uh, yeah, just give me a sec to lock up," I said, turning back to the door and using the key; a key I very rarely, if ever, used. "Next time, you can come around to the back. That's what everyone else does when the shop is closed. You know, they, like, go around the back and ring the bell."
I was babbling. Geez, twenty-four and I was babbling like a some kind of teenybopper or something.
"Good to know," I heard him murmur from over my shoulder.
I turned back to him and smiled, trying to get on with the program.
I was nervous.
It'd been quite a while for me, this one-on-one stuff with a guy. To tell the truth, never with a guy like Jack.
He opened the passenger door and offered me his hand to step inside.
Nice.
After he settled himself and turned the engine over, I saw his eyes slide to mine.
"Where to?" he asked.
Oh, sweet chocolate.
I forgot I was supposed to be the guide on this tour.
"Uhm," I said as he pulled away from the curb. "Do you want scenic or to hit the hot spots?"
"Hot spots?" he asked.
"Yeah, you know. Places to see and be seen," I replied.
"Scenic," he said firmly.
"North, then," I said. "Take the 80 north."
"How do I get to the 80?" he asked and, I have to tell you, that was a really strange question. Everyone knew the freeway to get either back down the hill to Sac or up the hill to the roads that led to Truckee, Tahoe or Reno.
"Take a left here and just follow the signs," I replied trying not to make a big deal out of his lack of knowledge. After all, he did say he