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“You’ll get your spark back. There’s plenty of time,” Jill assured her.

Maggie simply smiled and rubbed her belly. Bennett joined in, making the most adorable future family photo. Jill’s chest ached where her heart sat behind her rib cage.

Jax leaned in close enough that she could smell his aftershave. The ache turned to molten lava.

“Have you considered amortizing anything bigger than the subcompact tractor based on the sustainable business model? It’s less conservative than the 390W.”

She sat back in her chair, surprised.

Obviously, she wanted to shoot back, but he was just being nice and doing the job Bennett and Maggie gave him; the truth was, though, she didn’t need him to run this with her, no matter how his finance brain worked.

But she also needed to learn to settle her raised hackles around him or this was going to be a long month.

“It might be, but it doesn’t take into account Deer Creek’s local statutes around recycling and preservation of materials.”

So there.

“It does, actually. Third page and halfway down?” Jax sipped his tumbler of whiskey, his smile evident around the glass. He was enjoying this.

Okay, gloves are off.

“Since when?” she challenged. “As of November, there was a twenty-percent tax on amortizations under those parameters.” She had an urge to trade her white wine for a whiskey of her own, but history showed she couldn’t be trusted around Jax with anything that might impair her steadfast resolve not to jump his bones.

“Not anymore. The board voted unanimously last month, and everything is being updated. I’ll send you the new specs so we don’t lose out.”

“Oh,” she said, properly chastised. She squared her shoulders and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I did my research too early, I guess.”

He shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

“You’re good at this, too.”

“Maybe.” He rubbed his thumb along the sweat of his own glass and licked it.

She went cold, like he’d slid the icy skin over her collarbone. Damn her pale, Irish skin for showing off just how freaking attractive she found this man.

“Hey, where’s that necklace you had on? The one with Liam’s initials on it?” he asked.

She gulped back an emotion she couldn’t name. Hearing Liam’s name on Jax’s lips felt strange and also somehow wrong. But not because of her loyalty to Liam. More because she didn’t think of them in the same vein anymore.

Jax was far more thoughtful, family oriented, and steadfast.

“Um, it broke. The chain snapped.” She turned her attention to Grace, who stood and gathered the platters from the table.

“Here, let me help.” Jill jumped up, thankful for the distraction as they headed into the kitchen. “Thanks again for dinner. That strip steak fajita was the best I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, hon. You’re so welcome. Instead of your praise, I’ll take your acceptance to come to the next one with another bottle of that pinot. Where did you pick that up? It’s divine. Like drinking from the center of the earth.”

Jill laughed. “It’s from DeLeon Vineyards up north. And I thought the same thing when I sampled it in San Antonio. The winery’s actually in Oregon, but the vintner brought a sample batch to—”

“You broke the chain?” Jax asked, dropping a stack of dishes in the ceramic farm sink. “I could look at it, you know. Fix it for you, maybe?”

“Yes, Jackson, she broke her necklace. Now, will you please let the poor woman off the hook?” Grace asked, shooing him out of the kitchen. “Go help your brother clear off the table and do the dishes so I can show Ms. Henley around the ranch houses and property.”

Jax’s shoulders slumped; his lips twisted into a frown. He left and Grace exhaled, dumping the last of the Spanish rice into a glass Pyrex dish.

“I have to apologize for my youngest. He’s usually not so sullen. Or so pesky. I know he and his brother aren’t communicating well, but he shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“Why aren’t they getting along? I was under the impression from Maggie that they were close.”