Page 103 of One Wild Chance

I look at her one last time, a tether connecting something inside of me to her. “Good night, Wildflower.”

I catch my name on the back of the jersey as she leaves, and a shot of adrenaline blasts through me, straight to my heart.

I’m never going to wear that jersey again. Because I’ll never be able to erase the image of Summer wrapped up in it.

Chapter 29

Summer

I wake up to the smell of bacon and fresh coffee wafting through the house. For a moment I blink, unsure where I am, until my mind flashes back to memories from last night: the two of us with our hands on the door, and the kiss I left on Jaxon’s cheek as goose bumps skimmed over my skin. It was a totally different kiss from the hate kiss, but it felt just as monumental—a promise that no matter what happens now, we’re in this together.

I lie there for a few seconds longer, listening to him bang around down in the kitchen, like he’s never made breakfast before. He didn’t have to cook, and he probably won’t let me forget the extra “points” it gives him. But whatever has changed between us, I don’t want to go back to the rivalry we had before.

I hop out of bed, run my hands through my hair, and look down at myself. I’m drowning in his clothes, the collar falling off my shoulder, the pants sagging on my hips, but I love the way they smell like Jaxon. I bury my nose in his jersey, breathing it in before I head downstairs—the scent of clean laundry and a hint of his soap.

He’s at the stove with his back to me, concentrating on flipping an egg. I lean against the doorframe and watch him work, trying not to break his focus.

He turns, his eyes grazing over the shirt and joggers, and something in them sparks. “Morning, Wildflower. Sleep okay?”

“Fabulous, after that bath.” I head toward the coffee maker. “You?”

“Same, actually.” He turns the heat down on the eggs. “You know what’s funny? I haven’t slept well in years, but since coming home, I sleep like the dead.”

“Farm life will do that to you.” I pour a cup for me and one for him.

“I worked hard in hockey. I don’t think it’s that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Not sure.” He takes out two plates—the nice china ones again, which feels far too fancy for breakfast. He’s treating me like a queen again. “There’s oat milk in the fridge for your coffee.”

I cross the kitchen and feel his eyes on me the entire time.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, sliding a perfectly flipped egg onto a plate alongside some bacon.

“Breakfast with you, to start.”

He smiles and hands me the plate, and I settle at the little table by the window. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I cooked for our date the other night, didn’t I?” He joins me at the table, sitting across from me.

“I thought that was because it was last minute?” I reply.

“Sure. But if we’d just needed food, I could’ve cooked a frozen pizza and called it good. Instead, I made you filet mignon and served it on china. You think I do that for just anyone?”

I pick up a fork, unable to shift my gaze away from him. A smile breaks slowly across his face, starting with his eyes and moving to his lips. Watching him care for me in small, easy ways has started to become as natural as breathing—morning coffee, slow dancing, bath confessions, and hate kisses have all turned into something that feels wildly normal.

“And now you’re cooking me breakfast,” I add, my heart picking up speed. “I shouldn’t get used to this.”

“You absolutely should,” he replies. “I’m a man of many talents, Summer. And spoiling you is one of them.”

I hide my goofy grin behind my coffee cup, hoping he can’t see the way warmth is spreading through me.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to get attached. Who am I kidding? I’m already attached. I can’t imagine not seeing him every morning, running into him in the barn, that slow smile he saves just for me.

I think I’m developing an addiction to Jaxon Chance.

But the last man I trusted was my father, and look where that got me. My first birthday after Dad left, I waited by the phone, hoping for a call that never came, a sign he hadn’t forgotten me. I stayed there all night, falling asleep next to it so that Mom had to carry me to bed. Three days later, I got a cheap card in the mail with a ten-dollar bill and a “Sorry I missed your birthday.” No explanation given. I wasn’t even worth a phone call.