Read Online Near & Far by Nicole Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicole Williams
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special, right?”
He’d apologized, that heavy look in his eyes was gone, and he was back to exchanging witty banter with me. We were good.
“You’re special, all right.” I stopped a few feet in front of him and bit my tongue to keep from teasing him about his outfit. Jax’s motto wasn’t just to dress to impress; he dressed to overwhelm. He wore slim-fit trousers, a tweed vest, and a checked skinny tie. His dark hair was meticulously styled, and not in the messy-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-really-spent-a-half-hour-on-my-hair style. His hair was styled like a modernized version of Elvis’s pompadour. Jax’s skin was imperfection free, his nails never had dirt under them, and his dark eyes were ringed with a thick set of dark lashes. He was easy on the eyes—as dozens of girls who’d woken up next to him could attest to—but he wasn’t what you’d call my cup of tea. I had a type, and Jax wasn’t it.
Jesse was my type.
“Shit, Rowen. You’re creating a lake.” Jax took a few steps back, giving his shiny black boots a concerned look.
I glanced down and, sure enough, I was standing in an impressive puddle. From the looks of it, I’d leaked a solid gallon of rain water. “It’s just water. Chill out.”
“And these are just D&Gs.” Jax rushed to the sink in the back and tore a handful of paper-towels free.
I shook my head, almost laughing. Jesse wore boots because they were meant to get dirty; I doubted Jax’s boots had seen a speck of dirt.
Kneeling at my feet, Jax mopped up the puddle and then did something I wasn’t expecting. After he’d tossed the wet paper-towels aside, he snagged his jacket hanging over the back of his chair and draped it over my shoulders. It was a nice jacket. Even someone like me, who’d purchased half of my wardrobe from second-hand stores, could see that.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thanks.” I hadn’t expected his random act of concern, and it left me in unchartered territory.
“So . . . . the artist and the cowboy, eh?”
Ah, there we were. Back in chartered waters. As obnoxious as he was, I’d take incorrigible Jax to concerned Jax any day. “Careful,” I warned, giving him a look.
“The country boy and the city girl.”
“Double careful.”
“The good guy and the bad”—that time, I leveled him with a look—“the great girl,” he corrected.
Before he went for another round, I crossed my arms and cleared my throat. “Haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?”
“I think I have heard that a time or two. You know what I’ve heard a lot more?” He didn’t wait for me to reply. “Birds of a feather flock together.”
He didn’t have to waggle his finger between the two of us for his meaning to be obvious. That wasn’t an argument I was going to have with him. Opposites, identicals, and everything in between, that wasn’t the be-all-end-all of why a couple got or stayed together. The X factor, the real binding agent, was in what couldn’t be labeled, what couldn’t be measured. Did Jesse and I make sense on paper? Probably not. Were Jesse and I about as different as two people could get? Probably.
Was I worried? Hell to the no.
What bound us together couldn’t be seen or put into words. It was invisible. No word had been created for it. Fate, destiny, true love, soul mates were glorified, commercial terms that fell flat. I ascribed few words to what we shared, but one word I could, one word I felt the moment his fingers laced through mine, and that was . . . eternal .
“I’m going now”—I hitched my thumb at the door as I backed toward it—“before we get back into asshole territory.”
“Probably for the best. I wouldn’t want my profound asshole-ery to ruin that equally profound once-in-a-lifetime apology I just made.”
“I like the way you think.” I slid off Jax’s jacket and draped it over one of the chairs.
Jax tapped his temple before pointing my way. “I like the way you think.” His dark
He’d apologized, that heavy look in his eyes was gone, and he was back to exchanging witty banter with me. We were good.
“You’re special, all right.” I stopped a few feet in front of him and bit my tongue to keep from teasing him about his outfit. Jax’s motto wasn’t just to dress to impress; he dressed to overwhelm. He wore slim-fit trousers, a tweed vest, and a checked skinny tie. His dark hair was meticulously styled, and not in the messy-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-really-spent-a-half-hour-on-my-hair style. His hair was styled like a modernized version of Elvis’s pompadour. Jax’s skin was imperfection free, his nails never had dirt under them, and his dark eyes were ringed with a thick set of dark lashes. He was easy on the eyes—as dozens of girls who’d woken up next to him could attest to—but he wasn’t what you’d call my cup of tea. I had a type, and Jax wasn’t it.
Jesse was my type.
“Shit, Rowen. You’re creating a lake.” Jax took a few steps back, giving his shiny black boots a concerned look.
I glanced down and, sure enough, I was standing in an impressive puddle. From the looks of it, I’d leaked a solid gallon of rain water. “It’s just water. Chill out.”
“And these are just D&Gs.” Jax rushed to the sink in the back and tore a handful of paper-towels free.
I shook my head, almost laughing. Jesse wore boots because they were meant to get dirty; I doubted Jax’s boots had seen a speck of dirt.
Kneeling at my feet, Jax mopped up the puddle and then did something I wasn’t expecting. After he’d tossed the wet paper-towels aside, he snagged his jacket hanging over the back of his chair and draped it over my shoulders. It was a nice jacket. Even someone like me, who’d purchased half of my wardrobe from second-hand stores, could see that.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thanks.” I hadn’t expected his random act of concern, and it left me in unchartered territory.
“So . . . . the artist and the cowboy, eh?”
Ah, there we were. Back in chartered waters. As obnoxious as he was, I’d take incorrigible Jax to concerned Jax any day. “Careful,” I warned, giving him a look.
“The country boy and the city girl.”
“Double careful.”
“The good guy and the bad”—that time, I leveled him with a look—“the great girl,” he corrected.
Before he went for another round, I crossed my arms and cleared my throat. “Haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?”
“I think I have heard that a time or two. You know what I’ve heard a lot more?” He didn’t wait for me to reply. “Birds of a feather flock together.”
He didn’t have to waggle his finger between the two of us for his meaning to be obvious. That wasn’t an argument I was going to have with him. Opposites, identicals, and everything in between, that wasn’t the be-all-end-all of why a couple got or stayed together. The X factor, the real binding agent, was in what couldn’t be labeled, what couldn’t be measured. Did Jesse and I make sense on paper? Probably not. Were Jesse and I about as different as two people could get? Probably.
Was I worried? Hell to the no.
What bound us together couldn’t be seen or put into words. It was invisible. No word had been created for it. Fate, destiny, true love, soul mates were glorified, commercial terms that fell flat. I ascribed few words to what we shared, but one word I could, one word I felt the moment his fingers laced through mine, and that was . . . eternal .
“I’m going now”—I hitched my thumb at the door as I backed toward it—“before we get back into asshole territory.”
“Probably for the best. I wouldn’t want my profound asshole-ery to ruin that equally profound once-in-a-lifetime apology I just made.”
“I like the way you think.” I slid off Jax’s jacket and draped it over one of the chairs.
Jax tapped his temple before pointing my way. “I like the way you think.” His dark
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