Page 7 of Jack of All Trades (The Morrison Brothers #4)

The morning sun streams through Rex's kitchen window as I slam my coffee mug onto the counter, the hot liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"I can't believe you're still on about this," I say, glaring at my brother across the small kitchen. "It's been twelve hours since your little scene at the fairgrounds."

Rex leans against the refrigerator, arms crossed over his chest. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept well, but his jaw is set with that stubborn determination I know all too well.

"I'm just looking out for you, Maya," he says, his voice softer than his stance suggests. "Jack's my best friend, but I've seen how he operates with women."

"So you keep saying." I take a sip of my coffee, trying to calm the irritation bubbling inside me. "But I'm not some naive teenager, Rex. I'm a grown woman who can decide for herself who to spend time with."

"It's not that simple." Rex pushes away from the refrigerator and begins pacing the small space. "You don't know him like I do."

"Then enlighten me," I challenge. "What terrible thing has Jack Morrison done that warrants you making a public scene and embarrassing both of us?"

Rex stops pacing and looks at me directly. "He hasn't done anything terrible. That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is that Jack doesn't do serious relationships.

" Rex runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"He dates women, charms them, makes them feel special, and then it ends.

Every time. And usually, they're the ones left hurt while he moves on to the next rodeo or the next woman who catches his eye. "

"Maybe I'm not looking for a serious relationship either," I counter, though the words feel hollow even as I say them. "Did you ever consider that?"

"Maya, I've known you your entire life. You don't do casual. You never have."

The accuracy of his assessment irritates me further. "People change."

"Not that much." He sighs heavily. "Look, I think of Jack like a brother. He's had my back more times than I can count. But as your actual brother, I'm telling you he'd be a terrible boyfriend."

"Who said anything about boyfriends?" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "We were eating funnel cake and talking about rodeo. That's it."

"I saw the way you were looking at him," Rex says quietly. "And the way he was looking at you."

I feel heat rise to my cheeks, remembering the warmth in Jack's eyes when he talked about finding balance, the way his smile had seemed to be just for me. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Rex challenges. "Because Betty Wilson is already telling everyone how Jack Morrison and Rex Torres nearly came to blows over Torres's pretty sister."

"Oh my God." I cover my face with my hands. "This town is ridiculous."

"This town is home," Rex corrects me.

"I still need to be able to make my own choices and live my own life," I cut in. "Not have my big brother scaring off anyone who talks to me."

"I'm not trying to control your life, Maya. I'm trying to protect you from getting hurt."

"Maybe I don't need protection anymore!" The words come out louder than I intend, echoing in the small kitchen. "Maybe what I need is for you to trust that I can handle myself."

Rex falls silent, huffing and staring at me. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower. "I do trust you. It's just... you're my little sister. Keeping you safe has been my job since forever."

Some of my anger deflates at the vulnerability in his voice. I know how much Rex sacrificed to raise me after our dad drank himself to death and our mom disappeared to who-knows-where. I know the weight of responsibility he's carried.

But I'm not a child anymore.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," I say, my tone gentler now. "But part of keeping me safe should include letting me make my own mistakes."

"Even when I can see the mistake coming a mile away?"

"Especially then." I set my coffee down and move closer to him. "Rex, I love you. But I need to be Maya Torres, not just Rex's little sister."

He looks away, jaw working like he's chewing on words he doesn't want to say. Finally, he nods once. "Fine. I'll back off."

"Thank you."

"But," he continues, holding up a finger, "if Morrison hurts you, all bets are off. I don't care how long we've been friends."

I can't help but smile at his protective streak. "Fair enough. Though for the record, there's nothing going on between Jack and me."

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. There might not be anything tangible happening, but there's something brewing—a connection, an attraction, a pull I haven't felt toward anyone in a long time.

Rex clearly doesn't believe me either, but he lets it slide. "You free today? I thought I could show you around town a bit more."

The guilt of planning his surprise party behind his back twists in my stomach. "Actually, I have some errands to run. Rain check?"

"Sure." He glances at the clock on the microwave. "I should head out anyway. Promised Ace I'd help him with his Harley this morning."

"I'll see you later, then." I move in for a quick hug, relieved that our argument seems to have defused. "Try not to threaten any more cowboys while you're out."

He gives me a playful shove. "No promises."

After Rex leaves, I stand in the quiet apartment, feeling restless and conflicted.

The fight might be over, but the issue remains.

Rex doesn't want me getting involved with Jack.

Jack apparently has a history of brief relationships that end badly.

And I'm potentially moving to this small town where everyone knows everyone's business.

The sensible thing would be to keep my distance from Jack Morrison. Focus on Rex's birthday party tomorrow, then spend the rest of my visit exploring whether Pine Haven could really be my fresh start.

But when have I ever done the sensible thing when it comes to matters of the heart?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my purse and car keys and head out the door.

The morning is bright and warm, typical for early summer in Pine Haven.

As I drive through town, I notice details I missed on previous passes.

The way the mountains frame the town like protective arms, the tended flower baskets hanging from lampposts, the easy way people wave to each other on the sidewalks.

It feels right here, in a way Seattle never has. Like I could belong, if I let myself.

I take the now-familiar turns toward Jack's house, still not entirely sure what I'm going to say when I get there. I just know I need to see him, to figure out what this thing between us is before I make any decisions about my future.

His blue truck sits in the driveway when I arrive, a good sign he's home. I park behind it and sit for a moment, gathering my courage. What am I even doing here? What do I want from this conversation?

The truth is, I don't know. And that uncertainty is both terrifying and exciting, and a little bit of both has never killed anyone.

I follow the stone path that leads around the side of the house to the backyard, where we'll be hosting Rex's party tomorrow. The sound of movement draws me forward—someone is definitely back there.

I round the corner of the house and stop dead in my tracks.

Jack is there, shirtless, wearing only jeans and work boots, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat as he moves a heavy wooden table across the grass. The muscles in his back and shoulders flex with the effort, revealing a strength that his usual shirts only hint at.

I should announce my presence. I should say something, anything, to let him know I'm here.

Instead, I stand frozen, watching as he positions the table precisely where we'd discussed putting it for the party, then straightens, running a hand through his hair and leaving it even more tousled than usual.

He turns, reaching for a water bottle on another table, and that's when he sees me. His eyes widen in surprise, then crinkle at the corners as his face breaks into a genuine smile.

"Maya," he says, his voice warm with pleasure. "This is unexpected."

I find my voice, though it comes out slightly higher than normal. "I was in the neighborhood."

One eyebrow rises skeptically. "Were you now?"

"Fine. I was driving around after arguing with Rex and ended up here."

He nods, seemingly appreciating my honesty. "Let me guess, the argument was about me."

"Your ego knows no bounds, Morrison," I say, but there's no real bite to it.

"Not ego. Just an educated guess based on how we left things last night." He gestures to a pair of chairs in the shade of the oak tree. "Want to sit? Tell me how badly Rex is planning my murder?"

I follow him to the chairs, trying very hard not to stare at his bare chest and failing miserably. It's not fair for someone to look that good in just jeans and sweat.

"He's not planning your murder," I say, settling into a chair. "He actually said you're like a brother to him."

"But?" Jack prompts, taking the chair opposite mine.

"But he thinks you're a terrible romantic prospect who will inevitably break my heart."

Jack winces slightly, then reaches for his discarded t-shirt hanging over the back of his chair. He pulls it on, and I feel both relieved and disappointed.

"Rex isn't entirely wrong," he says after a moment. "My track record with relationships isn't great."

His honesty surprises me. I'd expected denials or justifications.

"So I've heard."

"From Rex?"

"From Rex, from Betty Wilson giving me significant looks at the fairgrounds, from the waitress at the diner who warned me to 'be careful' when she overheard me mention your name." I shrug. "Small town. Word gets around."

Jack sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "I'm not proud of it. The reputation, I mean. It's not like I set out to be the town heartbreaker."

"What did you set out to be?"

The question seems to catch him off guard. He looks at me thoughtfully, as if deciding how honest to be.

"Happy, I guess," he says finally. "Like everyone else. But the relationships I've had... they always reach a point where it feels like the woman is waiting for something I can't give her. Some grand gesture or declaration. And when I can't deliver, things fall apart."

"What can't you give?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Jack shifts in his chair, uncomfortable with the directness of my question.

"The future they're imagining, I suppose. The white picket fence, the kids, the happily ever after. I'm not against those things in theory, but..." He trails off, searching for words.

"But what?"

"But I've never met someone who made me want to build that future more than I want the life I already have," he admits quietly. "And it feels wrong to string someone along when I know they want more than I can offer."

His candor is disarming. This isn't the smooth-talking cowboy with practiced lines and easy charm. This is someone more vulnerable, more thoughtful.

"That's... surprisingly self-aware," I say.

He laughs, the sound a little self-deprecating. "Don't sound so shocked. I'm not completely emotionally stunted."

"I didn't say you were."

"Your face did." But he's smiling, no real offense taken.

A comfortable silence falls between us, broken only by the distant sound of a lawnmower and birds in the oak tree above. It's peaceful here in Jack's backyard, the kind of peace I've been chasing without realizing it.

"So," Jack says eventually, "you and Rex had a fight about me."

"Not just about you," I clarify. "About his assumption that he gets to decide who I spend time with. About the fact that he still treats me like I'm sixteen and naive, not a grown woman capable of making my own choices."

"And what choices are you making, Maya Torres?" Jack asks, his voice soft but intent.

I look at him and see past the handsome face and charming smile to the man beneath.

Someone complex and contradictory, both rooted in this small town and somehow separate from it.

Someone who understands the value of balance, of moving with forces larger than yourself instead of fighting against them.

Someone who, despite Rex's warnings and my own better judgment, I find myself drawn to more strongly with each interaction.

"I'm choosing to help plan my brother's birthday party," I say, dodging the real question. "Speaking of which, how are we doing with the preparations?"

Jack allows the deflection, though his eyes tell me he notices it. "Pretty well. Chairs are confirmed with Maggie, tables are here as you can see, and I've got the drinks covered. Ethan's bringing his portable fire pit for when it gets cooler in the evening."

"That sounds perfect." I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "I should probably head back soon. Make peace with Rex before the party tomorrow."

"Probably a good idea," Jack agrees. "Though I'm glad you stopped by."

"Even though I caught you half-naked and sweaty?" The words slip out before I can stop them.

Jack's grin is slow and knowing. "Especially because of that. The look on your face when you saw me was worth the price of admission."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.

"Sure you don't." He stands, stretching his arms above his head in a way that makes his t-shirt ride up, revealing a strip of tanned skin above his jeans. The man knows exactly what he's doing.

I roll my eyes, standing as well. "You're incorrigible."

"Part of my charm."

"Is that what you call it?"

His laugh follows me as I head back toward the side of the house. At my car, I turn to find him leaning against the porch railing, watching me with an expression I can't quite read.

"See you tomorrow?" he asks.

"At the party," I confirm. "Rex is supposed to arrive at six, so we should all be ready by five-thirty."

"I'll be here." He pauses, then adds, "For what it's worth, Maya, I think Rex is wrong about one thing."

"What's that?"

"The idea that I'd break your heart." His eyes hold mine, serious now. "I think it might be the other way around."

Before I can respond to that startling statement, he turns and disappears into the house, leaving me standing by my car with my heart beating faster than it has any right to.