Page 89 of The Quit List
He smirks, but then, his smile becomes almost gentle. He reaches a hand out towards me, but then lets it drop. “Hey, by the way, I’m sorry if what I said earlier today came out wrong.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“Like the Dylan stuff.”
Oh. Right. Almost forgot that all happened today.
“That’s okay, Jax.”
He shakes his head. “No, I want to be better at the brutal honesty thing. It’s just my opinion, my own read of the situation?—”
“No,” I tell him, cutting him off firmly. He seems surprised—as am I—and he stays silent for me to continue. “What you said made a lot of sense. If anything, I feel… happy.”
Jax raises a brow. “You do?”
“Yup,” I reply. And I mean it. It’s been a good day. “Doesn’t hurt my mood that it’s so awesome here!”
He half-turns away from me, his forehead creasing into a frown as he gazes out into the darkness off the deck. “You’re the first person to come here and look at this place through the lens of a guest. I’ll admit I’m… nervous that, if you don’t like it, it’s a sign of things to come.” He gives me a wry look. “No pressure.”
A weight lifts off me as I realize his hesitation earlier wasn’t due to me being here in his wilderness world, but more that he was worried about what I was going to think.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him with full sincerity.
“I want to make this work so badly.” The intensity on his face makes my heart feel soft and mushy. I love how important this is to him. Love that, for something so important, he values my opinion so highly. “I’ve put everything into it.”
“It will work,” I say confidently. “We’ll get a ton of footage over the next few days and get your website and Instagram looking so beautiful, nobody will be able to resist booking with you.”
Because it is perfect here. For being so far off the beaten track, the cabin definitely looks comfortable. It has everything you could need. The ideal base for backcountry adventures.
In fact, being here with Jax and seeing it all firsthand makes the whole thing seem so much more real.
This is going to soon be his life. He’ll be living out here, wild and free and totally committed to his dream.
“I like your optimism,” he tells me with a smile like sunshine.
And I like it when you smile, I think as our eyes catch.
“I believe in you,” I reply, my heart picking up speed.
“You’re one of a kind, Holly Greene. You know that?”
We stand there, staring at each other for a few moments before he gives his head a shake. “Enough talk, more action—I better get started chopping wood for the fire.”
And then, he whips off his shirt.
It’s seriously breathtaking here.
And I’m not just talking about the scenery.
I take a cooling sip of water as I lean against the wooden exterior wall of the cabin and watch Jax chop wood. Watch the corded muscles in his arms tense and contract in the dim evening light. The beads of sweat dance down his broad, bare chest with abandon. The clench of his jaw as he swings that freaking ax with military precision.
And don’t get me started on those shoulders. Jax’s shoulders put all other shoulders to shame. These are Wagyu steak shoulders, while everyone else’s are minced chuck.
I didn’t even know that I noticed things like shoulders until now.
Why on earth did I ever think men below thirty were a dealbreaker for me? This man is in his physical prime, and then some. Twenty minutes of watching him chop wood and get the fire going and I still haven’t adjusted to the spectacular view.
Dragging my eyes away from Jax, I force myself to instead focus on the navy blue sky, with stars beginning to glitter above the tops of the Georgia pines.