Lucy

The zoo was everything Lucy dreamed it would be. And Jaxon let her take as much time as she wanted exploring every exhibit. Lucy’s favorite was the penguin habitat. She could’ve watched them swooping through the water for hours. They seemed so full of happiness darting around their tank and preening on the rocks. It was infectious.

Jaxon teased her when she wanted him to push her zoo-provided wheelchair right up to the glass so she could get a better look at them.

“Oh! Look at that tiny one,” she exclaimed pointing to the adorable baby penguin waddling around behind its parents. “Aw, it’s so little.”

“Wow, you just picked out the Smalls of the penguin world,” Jaxon teased.

Lucy stuck at her tongue out at him, refusing to admit that he was right. “And let me guess, the giraffes are your favorite?”

“Why giraffes?”

“Because they’re freakishly tall.”

Jaxon crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Are you saying I’m freakishly tall, Smalls?”

“If the oversized shoe fits, Biggie.”

Jaxon mocked hurt. “That’s just mean.”

Lucy giggled, unable to stop her laughter. It was strange to feel so light after what happened at the stadium just a few hours earlier. But that’s always how it was with Jaxon—light, safe, happy.

* * *

After a full day at the zoo Lucy was exhausted. She sighed into the buttery soft leather of Jaxon’s truck when he buckled her in. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to make its trek toward the sea.

“You hungry?” Jaxon asked.

“Always.”

He laughed. “I swear, I don’t know where you put it, Smalls.”

They’d already had nachos, churros, a lemon slushy and a giant soft pretzel at the zoo, plus the ice cream Lucy had eaten on the way there.

“How does Jack In The Box sound?” Jaxon asked.

“Like perfection.”

Lucy listened as Jaxon talked animatedly while he drove. She knew he’d grown up in San Diego and she loved hearing the affection he had for the city as they drove around. It was evident he missed it by the excitement in his voice every time he passed something that sparked a memory.

He pointed out an old basketball court where he and his brother used to play and recounted numerous tales about the two of them causing trouble in their younger days, prompting Lucy to say that their mother must’ve been a saint.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Lucy wanted to kick herself. She’d just called Jaxon’s departed mother a saint! Insert foot in mouth much? Good Lord!

Things were going so well before Lucy brought up Jaxon’s mother. His light mood darkened and Lucy desperately wished she could press rewind and take back her insensitive comment.

Jaxon took a deep breath and slid his hand across the seat seeking Lucy’s. When he found it, he squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay to mention her.”

“Seriously? You’re trying to make me feel better right now?”

He laughed, pulling his hand back to rub the back of his neck. “I guess I am.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucy finally admitted. “I’m sorry just doesn’t seem big enough for what you went through.”

Jaxon nodded solemnly. “It happened not too far from here. We were coming home from one of my basketball games.”

Realization pricked Lucy’s scalp. “That’s why you don’t play anymore?”

He nodded and sadness slammed into Lucy’s chest all over again. Jaxon had lost so much and it killed her that there was nothing she could do about it. Especially when all he ever did was rescue her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

“Me too.”

“I know you already know this, but life is too short to give up the things you love . . . like basketball.”

Jaxon sighed. “You’re right. But it’s just not the same anymore.” His voice grew quiet. “Nothing is.”

Lucy knew what he meant. Nothing had been the same in her life after her father left. It was like a part of her was just missing and there wasn’t anything she could do to make it right. But Jaxon’s situation was so much worse. He didn’t have a lifetime to mourn his mother or ten years to get used to not having a father. He was going through all of it right now.

She hated that Jaxon had to go through it, but just like her situation, there wasn’t much she could do, other than be there for Jaxon. So she laced her fingers tighter around his and squeezed, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

They drove the rest of the way to Jack In The Box in companionable silence. Lucy was still kicking herself for bringing up Jaxon’s mother and dampening his good mood. She watched him as he drove. He looked relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the open windowsill.

Lucy found herself trying to imagine which of Jaxon’s gorgeous traits he’d inherited from his mother. Was it his perfect smile? His sparkling blue eyes? His ceaseless compassion for those in need? Maybe it was all of it. Either way, Lucy’s heart hurt knowing she’d never get to meet the woman who helped create this incredible boy. She didn’t know how Jaxon dealt with such a heavy burden. It must hurt terribly. Lucy hadn’t even met the woman and she felt the weight of her loss. Of course Lucy missed her own mother, but it somehow felt different. It was harder to miss someone she never got the chance to know. But losing someone who raised you . . . that kind of pain was different. And she had a feeling it didn’t have an expiration date.

Jaxon

Forty-five minutes later, Jaxon backed into his favorite spot overlooking the beach. It had been worth waiting in line at the drive-thru and battling traffic to get there. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect. The sun was setting over the ocean, painting the sky orange and the water gold.

Jaxon hopped out of his truck, pulled down the tailgate and returned to the passenger side to grab Lucy and their food. He helped Lucy into the truck bed and they both scooted to the back so they could lean against the cab while enjoying their meal.

Lucy moaned when she bit into her cheeseburger. “This is the best burger I’ve ever had.”

Jaxon laughed. “I can’t believe you’ve never had Jack In The Boxr. And you call yourself a Californian?”

She threw a fry at him and he caught it, popping it in his mouth.

Lucy grinned. “Thanks for today. I’m really glad you didn’t let me waste it.”

“I couldn’t let one bad soccer game give San Diego a bad rap.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t. And thanks for taking me out for dinner. This is pretty great.”

Jaxon snorted. “Give me some credit, Smalls.”

“What?”

“Let’s just make something clear, if I was gonna take you out for dinner it would be nicer than a bag of fast food in the back of my pickup truck.”

She shrugged. “It’s the best date I’ve been on in . . . well . . .” she laughed again. “I guess I can’t remember the last date I’ve been on.”

The anger that Jaxon thought he’d buried came rushing back. “I know I’m breaking our brand new friendship rule, but please tell me you’re done with that dipshit.”

“I am.”

“Good, because he’s an idiot and he doesn’t deserve you, but I promise you there’s a guy out there who does. When he comes along, you’ll know it.”

Lucy

Lucy looked into Jaxon’s deep blue eyes and felt her heart thump erratically in her chest. She smiled, hoping he didn’t notice how her pulse picked up when he looked at her like that. Lucy was beginning to think Jaxon was right about a better guy coming along. The trouble was, she might have already met him. He might actually be sitting right next to her. But it seemed he didn’t know it yet.

To mask her nerves she reached into her bag of mini wine bottles and cracked one open.

“Hey,” Jaxon said, swiping it from her. “Did I say you could have one of those yet?”

“Do you want one?” she offered.

“Nope, I’m driving.”

Lucy shrugged, grabbed another one from the bag and twisted off the top.

“You really shouldn’t mix drugs and alcohol.”

“Lay off, Doc. It’s been hours since I took a painkiller.” She smirked. “Besides, these are like liquid painkillers.”

He frowned at her.

“Kidding.” Though really she wasn’t. Lucy was hoping the delicious red wine would kill the ache in her heart she felt every time Jaxon looked at her like he thought she deserved the world. He seemed adamant to prove to her that there was a better guy out there for her, but she couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t volunteering for the job.