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I wanted to ask him why he cared, but that was more vinegar than honey.
“Parents. Older sister. One major relationship that ended in disaster.”
Now why the hell had I gone and said that? The fact that it was true had no bearing on the situation.
“Can you define disaster?”
Enough was enough. “I’d rather not.”
Telling him I was cheated on by a guy in college who I thought was “the one,” which had led to some very poor dating decisions and a general distrust of men, simply would not do.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem offended. Which was good, I guessed. Honey routine and all.
“And you? Backstory?”
Jaxon took a sip of coffee, and I had to admit, it was quite a peaceful morning, sitting out here like this. Despite my company.
“Born and raised in Maplewood, PA by my parents. I have two brothers, one older and one younger. Middle-child syndrome had me signing up for the Army after college despite the fact that no one in our family had ever been in the military.”
“Trying to stand out and all?” I asked. It was both surprising he’d mention the fact and more self-aware than I’d have expected.
“Pretty much. Served for eight years. Ended up in RASP, eventually Ranger school, and then assigned to the second battalion of the 75th Ranger Regiment. Was deployed three times, etc. etc.”
“RASP?”
“Ranger Assessment and Selection Program.”
“I see.” Although clearly, I didn’t. “And the whole land purchasing thing?”
I seemed to have lost him for a second, Jaxon remembering something, maybe from his past. This was a guy who’d seen and done a lot of crazy shit if even half of the stories Lucas and Nate told us were true. And neither of them had been Rangers.
“Met a guy in Afghanistan, an infantryman, who was one hell of a character. Funny as hell. And loaded too. His dad made a career of buying protected property, cutting through the mounds of red tape that scared most buyers off, and then reselling. I did some research and”—he shrugged—“here I am.”
I couldn’t help it. Honey be damned.
“So it’s purely for profit? You talk about buying protected property like it’s not protected for a reason.”
“I’m a realist, Natalie. There are a lot of things to get worked up about in this world. I’ve seen some crazy shit. But buying and selling a piece of land isn’t one of them. No offense.”
“None taken,” I said sarcastically. “It’s just my life’s work, protecting the environment. Why would I possibly take offense?”
Jaxon frowned, clearly displeased.
Good. That made two of us.
“That’s not what I meant. There’s a process. If a piece of protected property is deemed sellable, there are still mitigation measures and easement adjustments that are made to ensure preservation of the land’s essential conservation values. But you know that.”
“I do. But that still doesn’t make it right.” I stood and put my mug on the table beside me. “Thank you for the dry clothes. And coffee.”
Without another word, I left Jaxon Hayes behind and made my way back to the scene of the crime. Ignoring his calls of “Natalie,” I quickly got into the kayak and pushed off. Looking back, I finally realized why he’d been calling for me. Not to apologize for minimizing my life’s work or for profiting from harming the environment.
Jaxon was just reaching the dock with a bag of clothes in his hand.
I’d left my things. And probably should go back for them, but I just couldn’t be around him. He was too unsettling.
Vinegar. Honey. It didn’t matter. Jaxon Hayes had my number, and I wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to press even one more button.
EIGHT
