Bringing The Fight

* Jaxxen * The second I spotted the pretty new girl flitting around Old Tom’s tavern, my heart exploded then repaired itself all at once. As if I found the other half of my soul and it couldn’t fathom the strain. It takes all my control to remain seated at the bar with Nason talking my ear off. I watch her clean up after the local yokels, tracking every movement like prey. "She showed up here last week," Nason reported when he caught on to my staring, "Tom's letting her live upstairs." I take a pull of my beer, nodding. The girl’s frumpy, wearing a god awful baggy green sweater which hides her ass with equal loose-fitting jeans. She has long strawberry blonde hair pulled up haphazardly, but it shines beautifully under the low lighting. Her careful actions as she keeps entrance in her sights sing to my darkness — whispering she’s in trouble. Every time she jumps and awkwardly covers her furtive behavior up with a tight smile, it becomes clearer. She’s on the run. Yup, trouble with a capital T. I wish the place wasn’t so damn dark. I can’t tell the color of her eyes from where I’m sitting, and my curiosity grows the longer I observe her. I need another drink, but Tom’s too busy gossiping with his friends to care or notice. Then I smell the cloying perfume I originally came into town for before spotting her. "Jax," Bria’s husky voice purrs over my left. Nason sits up straighter, smiling. Poor guy could probably have a shot at Bria if he asked her out, but he thinks she’s classy. I shake my head, knowing better. Bria’s a c**k w***e. When I pick up my empty bottle, Bria caresses my shoulder. Standing, I tower over her with a frown. She knows not to touch me unless it’s when my d**k’s shoved down her throat. "Not tonight," Was all the explanation I felt she deserved before laser-focusing on the mystery girl. Being the biggest and tallest man in the pub, the girl saw me coming. Her long legs scurried around tables and customers as I intentionally corralled her behind the counter. So easy. "Hi," I lean over to catch her eye, but she picks up a towel, "What's your name?" She swallowed hard, and I hated that I made her nervous, "Coralee, but people call me Cora." "Well, I'm Jaxxen but prefer Jax. We have s**t in common already." I spot a flicker of a smile on her lips but she turns to leave, so I wag the bottle in the air, "Can I get another please, Coralee?" She finally raises her head, eyes going to the entrance before deftly handing me a cold brew. Coralee hasn’t met my stare and I want to grab her chin to make her. I like her height. She’s maybe five feet nine and although a good meal would do her well to fill out those gaunt cheekbones, seems to have a shapely body underneath those ugly clothes. "Go on a date with me," I blurt, then berate my rashness. Now she peers up beneath light-colored lashes, and I grin reassuringly. Her hazel eyes hold fire, something I hoped to see. Coralee looks me up and down. I know she likes what she sees, but her pretty mouth curves into a sneer. "I'm not looking to date anyone," her sweet raspy voice hits me square in the chest, but her words sound detached but firm. With a wink I try to thaw her icy walls with a lame quip, "Me either, just you." "No," she twists away with a lip curl, dismissing me to serve other patrons. As I make my way back to the stool beside Nason, take out my phone. If Coralee expects me to give up after a rude rejection, she needs to think again. There’s nothing sexier than a woman recognizing danger and spitting in its face. The flower shop I order for a single sunflower delivered daily with my contact number and name attached isn’t cheap, but I don’t care. I’ve spent more on lesser undertakings. I listen to Nason drone on about his ranch as I finish my beer, continuing to track how Coralee avoids the local men and conversations. New faces are rare, and the locals are curious. She’s definitely a girl with a past, and I wonder how she got Tom on board with letting her live in the cramped attic space. I moved to Perla Montana years ago after having my cabin built with nothing in mind but losing myself in nature. The fifty acres I own twenty miles outside town renders me an outsider to the tight-knit community but prefer it this way. I’ve always been a private person. Coming to Toms every few weeks led me to meet Nason and f**k Bria when I wish, but after meeting Coralee can’t deny I’ve been going through the motions lately. Bored as hell, but reminding myself it’s what I chose. Just seeing her sparked emotions long forgotten. I’ve enjoyed my solitary lifestyle, but it’s time to consider my future. I am not getting any younger. My standards weren't typical, though. I wanted a strong woman who understands life will give you s**t, spit you out, and it’s up to you to get back up. I parted ways with Nason an hour later. Bria’s lurking near my jeep like a stalker. I can practically smell her p***y before spotting her overly made-up face in the lamp post above my ride. "My place, baby?" she parts her painted red lips, licking them with more vigor than necessary. "It's over," I bluntly state. If I continue to see Bria, the townies will tell Coralee and then the girl won’t have anything to do with me. She shouldn’t have to deal with my drama. "Why?" she whines as if she doesn’t have five others on speed dial, "I thought you liked me." I sigh, opening the door, "You’ll find someone else. Take care." I drove away, leaving her pouting in the parking lot. Her daddy owns half the town. She'll have no trouble finding somebody to piss him off with. Once I’m home, my Husky's Ren and Stimpy trot off the wooden deck to inspect me. I pet them absently, sitting to remove my boots. After feeding them, I pinned in the code to my office, settling at my desk to investigate Coralee. Where did she come from? How long does she plan to stay? Tom’s converted living space above the tavern is not suitable for a young woman. There’s not much crime here, but she’s vulnerable all alone there. My house has plenty of room. Closing my eyes, I picture her too-thin face. My c**k twitched, recalling how her upper lip sneered at my lame flirting. I give it a month before Coralee’s disinterest turns into obsessive desire. Maybe I’m overstepping, but I hope she’ll move in with me once I gain her trust. I’ll make sure she feels safe and stops running from whatever is bothering her. What the hell was a girl like her doing in Perla? Hacking into Tom's s**t computer system isn’t hard or the first time I've done it. I’ve probed into the lives of everyone in town. They’d stroke out to learn I know their dirty little secrets. I’m not surprised to find out he hadn’t put her on the books. I bet my left nut she told the old sap some sob story, and he said okay to whatever she wanted. For two days I keep busy, receiving email alerts confirming Coralee received my gifts. She probably never had a man send her flowers simply asking for a call or text, and I tell myself to wait a week before returning. Patience. She hasn’t run yet, so figure she’s enjoying the attention. I camp out with my dogs for a few days deep on my property tracking predators and check on the underground bunker, which was the deciding factor when I bought the fifty-acre lot just to keep my thoughts off of Coralee. I imagine her there with me around the fire, laid out in my pop tent while I spend the night devoted to her body under the stars as I press her to the ground, making her beg for it. When the week’s up, so is Coralee's time. She can try to hide from her past, but now I’ve set my sights on her, she can’t hide from me. *Coralee* I wistfully touch the sunflowers on the rickety table before heading downstairs to the smelly bar. Tom said the flowers aren't local, so Jaxxen spent a pretty penny shipping them in for me. Me. Tom didn’t explain much about Jaxxen other than the man’s a loner who rarely ventures into town. He supposedly built a large cabin on the outskirts of Perla before arriving in this quaint little western paradise. He warned me to be careful when the first sunflower arrived with a sneaky grin. It was his playful chuckle that made me refrain from throwing the long-stemmed flower in the trash. Blushing and waving my hands, I convinced Tom there’s nothing going on with Jaxxen. It’s a sweet gesture, but I can’t let down my guard for anyone. Pretending I’m a normal woman instead of a broken one came easier to me than bartending. The man is dangerously hot, though. Jax has the most intense gray eyes I've ever seen and a disarming smile. He’s huge too. Mountain man huge with muscles on his muscles, towering above everyone with a watchful but confident presence. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I tied a worn apron around my waist before helping the few customers in the bar. Tom’s more of a busybody than a worker, but he owns the tavern. I supposed he earned the right to whatever he wants at his age. I bite the inside of my cheek as men flirt and try to engage my interest throughout the evening. It doesn’t matter how nice these guys are, I won’t reciprocate. Not only am I not interested, never stay in one place for long. The front door opens and my eyes immediately dart over, making sure Braden’s not there with a gun. No, it’s not my nightmare, but Jax. My face flames when I realize he’s staring right at me as he moves inside. Whoa, an unexpected but warm sensation zapped down my spine at the sharp connection I felt pass between us before breaking eye contact. "Cora!" Tom yells, "Get Pat a bag of chips from the back, please." Grateful for the distraction, I darted into the storeroom. Damn, Jax is seriously good-looking. Why did he intrigue me so much? Since the night we met, the way he smiled at me when I rejected him has looped through my restless mind. My rude behavior didn’t phase him. Then he had the gall to send flowers? He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Reaching into a box of mixed snacks, hear his deep timber behind me, "Hello, Coralee. How’s your week going?" I steady my nerves before facing him. He’s leaning his large frame against the door, blocking my escape. I’m not scared. I’ve known men who hurt women for the fun of it, and he has shown no disrespect to anyone he’s encountered under my watchful observation. His eyes don’t roam below my mouth, although I check out his low-slung jeans, and the tight black shirt his broad torso stretches when he crosses his arms. He doesn’t acknowledge my obvious perusal, or even seem to care, simply waiting in the doorway for an answer to his question, no doubt speculating why I haven’t contacted him. "T-thank you for the flowers, but please stop. Um, they’re pretty! Y-you sent your number but… I mean, I’m leaving soon." I stutter, avoiding his piercing gaze, hoping he gets the hint there’s no use pursuing me. "Do you know why I decided on sunflowers, Coralee?" his tone is impossibly deep and it rumbles in my chest. Licking my lips, risk a glance into those silver orbs, "No?" "You have such beautiful hazel eyes. Your dark pupil flares out into the most amazing yellows and gold with a blue ring surrounding them, reminding me of summer skies. I can’t wait to see your other colors bloom." My panties take a hit as I gape at him. Is he serious? We only met last week. Talk about eyes, I'd get lost in them if we continue to stare at each other. He’s gorgeous and my body betrays me every time he opens his mouth. Did he rehearse that sweet line? "Go out with me." "No." "Why not? We’ll stay out of town if that's what you're worried about, Coralee." "Cora," I correct him, wondering how he knew I prefer to keep indoors so the townsfolk won’t catch sight of me. "Where would you take me?" His lips quirk into a sinful smirk, and my heart galloped, "It’s a surprise." "Your flowers surprised me," I mutter, wishing he'd back off. Jax steps away from the entrance as if reading my mind. "Great, but I’m a persistent man. Come on, say yes. If you do, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon to spend the day with me." I clench my hands into fists. So, he’s an alpha control freak? I had my fill of that crap with Braden. "No." Clutching the bag of chips, I rushed past him and nearly threw them in Pat’s face on my way to clear a booth. Why do I attract controlling men? Jaxxen has no clue who I am. Poor guy’s wasting his time. I gave myself a few weeks in Perla to save money before finding a new s**t town. True to Jax’s word, he sat down at a table in the rear, producing a deck of cards. I try to avoid him, but work is work, and he’s a customer. After a few beers and another cute attempt at asking me out, he switched to water. With a tight smile, I left two frosted bottles, signifying I was through serving him for a while. He smirked in response, confirming he picked up my resolve to blank him. That intention grew weaker by the hour though, studying him out of the corner of my eye. His persistence and attentive presence were hard to ignore. Also, the fact he’s handsome and built like a tank doesn’t hurt either. A blonde woman with a lot of skin showing tried to sit with him, but he ran her off after a few minutes. Someone called her Bria, insinuating she’s got money and time to spare and is always bugging Jax, but instead of letting my curiosity grow, brush off the gossip. His lovers aren’t my concern. Although a kernel of jealousy popped at how she raked her red nails down his arm before sauntering outside. Perla is small, and I risk being spotted by Braden working and living at the only bar around. Hopefully, a month isn’t too long to stay here. "Should I kick Jax out?" Tom asks at closing after emptying the till. "I've never seen the man hang out to ogle my withered mug." I shot him a reassuring grin, "It's fine. He wants to chat. I'll see you Monday." “If you’re sure? You ain’t a kid, but no f*****g on the pool table, Cora.” “Tom!” I gasped, blushing in mortification. He’s such a cranky old fart, but I’ve grown fond of him. “There will be no sex.” “Alright. Goodnight,” he grumbled, giving Jax a nasty scowl before leaving us alone. I turned off some lights before joining Jax. I desperately needed a shower to wash off the gross odor of beer and smoke from my hair. Sadly, one wasn’t available. Sponge baths in the break room sucked, but better than nothing. I am grateful to Tom for allowing me to live in the attic but have to find other accommodations soon. "Thanks again for the flowers, but you need to understand I’m not dating. Anyone." I inform him firmly, hiding my shaking hands under the tabletop. "Who are you running from Coralee?" he c***s his head and wets his lips, watching my jaw drop at his intrusive question, "Surprised? Unlike others in this town believing the worst thing that can happen to them is a drought or—" "Stop!" I stand up, angry, and scared. What the hell? Did Braden send him? "What's your last name? Mine is White." I blink, getting whiplash from the change of conversations. "Why do you care? Seriously, why are you bothering me? Are you… really from here? Perla?" "Yeah, I am. You intrigue me and I’ll continue sending gifts and keep sitting here every night until you come to my cabin." So he can kill me? “Uh...” He laughs a low rumbly sound, “That sounded creepy as f**k. Sorry, what I mean is I hate being in public too. I have a great place and you look like you could use a friend. And a good meal! Listen, I heard you’re staying upstairs and Perla may seem safe, but we both know people hide evil intentions behind false smiles.” “We do?” I do, but his rambling has me curious. “Sure. Only last month some farmer got caught screwing his brother’s wife and he blew him away with a shotgun. Can you guess what his daughter did next?” I’m engrossed in the story, leaning forward, “Don’t tell me she blamed her dad?” “Nah, she killed her mother. The uncle was dicking her too.” I cover my mouth, disturbed but not completely shocked. The world’s full of whack-jobs. “How nasty. Are you worried some shotgun-toting farmer will attack me?” “Maybe,” he frowns at my nonchalance. What did he expect? For me to cry and beg for him to protect me? “My point is, a young transient girl alone in a bar is mighty tempting. Gossip travels fast, and I’m looking out for you. Trying to make friends at least.” I swallow hard, peering deep into his strange gray eyes. He relaxes in his seat, yet there’s a promised conviction behind his words. I’m oddly drawn to this striking man, and it’s dangerous. For him. Jax is so big he could snap my neck between two fingers, but I feel... safe. I shiver, realizing I haven’t appreciated the complex emotion of security in years. Freedom is an illusion, but I’ve grown accustomed to the dark side of life. Learned to read between the lines of how people present themselves. Still, his offer of friendship seems heartfelt if he’s not working an angle. "Winters," I softly answered his previous question, "Coralee Winters." Jax’s brilliant smile warms my insides, "s**t, one more thing we have in common. Winters and White. f*****g perfect. Wanna get out of this tavern?" I exhale, rubbing my tired eyes. The smell of booze and dusty old walls has gotten on my nerves these last few weeks, but I don’t know this man from Adam. Tom wouldn’t leave me with a crazy person, but why is he acting so nice? "Say yes, Coralee. Lock up the joint and come home with me. I won't touch you, I promise. You have nothing to fear. Let's spend some time together and if you prefer this s**t hole, I’ll bring you back." Jax sounds so sincere it borders on pleading, and I can’t help but chuckle when his lower lip juts out. I’m blown away. Who is this guy? "You want me to go to your house to... talk?" He slowly stands, towering over me, "Don’t overthink this. Say…" "Yes." I blurt, my cheeks reddening. He gives me another heartwarming grin, and I smile too. Gah, when was the last time I genuinely smiled? Am I at the point where I would rather trust a stranger than spend tonight worrying if every sound is Braden slithering from shadows to return me to a life I ran from as fast as my legs would move? I suppose I am because five minutes later we’re on the road to his place. * Jaxxen * I don’t allow Coralee to change her mind after saying she'll come home with me. After she locked up the bar, led her to my Jeep with more pep in my step since... a long time. Her nervous presence makes me want to ease her doubts, but I focus on taking off for my place while ignoring the speed limit. It’s late, and no one is on the road. "Oh! I didn't grab my stuff!" she wrings her hands, gazing out the window. I smile to myself. Thank f**k she agreed tonight after I threatened to stalk the poor girl. She could have called the sheriff or Tom to throw my sorry ass out, but luckily I said the right thing for once in my life. Plus, I already ordered her clothes, setting up a room. Without knowing her exact size purchased simple girly s**t universally known to womankind — like razors and yoga pants. "Hey, I got you covered. Don’t worry about anything," I tell her, and she nods with a confused laugh. Once I park, she huffs, "You call this a cabin?" Shrugging, I greet the Huskies when they trot over. My two-story, five-room cabin’s modernized, but I camp out more than not. I thrived in the outdoors, and the house is a luxury when I need a hot shower and clean clothes. "Come here and hold out your palm." With a shy expression on her face, she joins me in front of the dogs, "They're so cute." I gripped her wrist, caressing her soft skin. She let out a startled gasp at the contact, making my d**k twitch. Damn, I shouldn’t have touched her, but it’s necessary. "Guard." I firmly order Ren and Stimpy. They both sniff Coralee with interest, then sit back on their haunches. She gives me a charming nose scrunched up squint, "What’s that all about?" I keep her hand in mine, hoping she feels the same connection I do, leading her up the porch steps, "Exactly what it implies. As long as you are with them, they’ll protect you with their lives." I turn to gaze at her pretty eyes, "Me too Coralee. We'll look after you from now on." She issues another gasp, avoiding my stare. The girl fears someone and I will find out who. An unexpected relief surges through my body, realizing she’s finally on my property. Does she sense the same pull I do when we’re together? I f*****g hope so. "Take off your shoes." I reluctantly let go to kick off my boots. She slips off her ratty sneakers, and I check the size. She follows me cautiously inside, looking around with wide eyes. I admire the fact she’s relaxed but watchful. It’s never wise to lower your guard in new situations. "You live here... alone?" she smiles at the layout. The first-floor host, a spacious kitchen with an attached dining room with a long breakfast bar separating the two on the right with a lowered den on the left. I fixed up my home with authentic handmade pieces where I could. The large table by the garden window is my favorite piece, made of heavy oak with a flawless finish. My office is down a narrow hallway out of sight, but the four bedrooms upstairs are barely furnished. Maybe she will want to decorate if she sticks around. "Hopefully not for too much longer," I wink, watching her cheeks flush. The red creeping above the collar of the awful sweater she wears boosts my ego. Some women are able to camouflage their desire, but she sure as hell isn’t one of them. First things first, though. "Come on," I grab her again, dragging her upstairs, "I made up this room for you. Wash off and put on the robe I laid out." She frowns, peering around the space I decorated with her in mind, "Wow, you planned this? Are you always so pushy? Slow your roll, Jax. Do you normally instruct people on how to do everything or are you saying I stink?" I can’t help but chuckle as I open the en-suite, flipping on the light to make sure I didn’t miss placing towels on the heating rack. Yes, I’m a bossy asshole, but good to know she’ll call me out on my bullshit. We’ll get along fine if she keeps that fire blazing. Striding out of the bathroom, catch her gazing out the window. It’s a pleasant view when the sun is shining. The perfect height to observe the long drive and some of my outbuildings. She’s always on alert. I nearly demand she confess her fears but draw a deep calming breath instead. There’s plenty of time over the weekend to discover her demons. "Hey, you can be happy here. You’re safe, Coralee." She peers over her shoulder with down-turned lips, "Thanks," her frown is kinda cute, "I don’t understand why you’re going out of your way for me, but thank you, Jax. I really could use a shower." "When finished, join me downstairs, please." With another warm smile, shut the door, hoping she does as I ask. I slipped into the office to send my buddy Coralee's name and information. While she worked, I had snuck into the small room she slept in and snapped a picture of her license. She hails from Tucker City and a few weeks shy of turning twenty-one. I told myself if she were eighteen I’d only befriend her, although my d**k would hate me. Finding out she’s over twenty settled my decision to pursue her romantically. After I’m through, head to the kitchen. It’s three in the morning, but I want to feed her. Just by looking at Coralee, I can tell she doesn’t eat right. Messed up a nice girl like her is living so poorly. "Jax?" I turn from the stove to give Coralee a hard once-over. There’s the stunning girl I knew she kept hidden under a frumpy disguise. The black thigh high robe shows off her mile-long legs. Her strawberry blonde hair is darker when wet, the red taking over. Those pretty hazel eyes appear happy for the first time since we met, and my heart pumps faster. "I hope you had everything you needed," My tone sounds casual as I continue cooking. I’m f*****g fuming though. On the inside of her right heel is a two-inch scar that looks fresh. A knife wound? Is it self inflicted? If not, why the hell would someone stab her? Curious, but not wanting to ruin the mood, leave off the questions burning at the tip of my tongue. Coralee meekly sits on a stool at the counter, "Why do you have so many feminine products if it's just you here?" The truth might scare her off, but I’m not a liar either. Placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her, offer a shrug instead of a verbal response. When I simply stare, she scans the food. "Are you eating too?" she bites her lower lip. My c**k strains against my jeans, watching her wrap her pink tongue around crisp bacon. "No. You worked your ass off tonight and deserve a hot meal. How old are you?" She avoids my gaze, suddenly very interested in the eggs, "Oh, twenty-two. You?" I sigh, crossing my arms, "I'll tell you if you stop f*****g lying. Real age?" I raise my eyebrow, daring her to bullshit me. Her eyes tear up, but before I apologize, they clear. She’s fighting with herself, I recognize the signs. I’m a stranger, but she wants to trust me. I understand all too well the internal struggle. She squares her shoulders, meeting my glare, "I'm twenty, okay? Don't rat me out to Tom because he has a strict code about being twenty-one to work or drink at his bar." I plaster a soft smile on my face, "His son died at seventeen from alcohol poisoning. It f****d up his marriage. I'm thirty-four. No need to lie, Coralee. Nothing you say will change how I feel about you." She drops her fork, "How you feel? You don't even know me. That's sad. Crap, I shouldn’t have deceived him." "He’ll get over it," I wave her concern and comment away, "When you're done you should hit the hay. I promised a surprise, remember?" Those hazel orbs light up, and I resist the impulse to touch her by facing the sink. She slides off the stool, saying good night in a sweet, kind voice before leaving. I let out a deep breath, retiring to my office. Damn, keeping my hands off of Coralee will be rough. Now that I have more information, order all kinds of stuff for her. Probably too much, but spoiling the girl won’t hurt anything. She’s going through some real shady s**t, I can tell. I should have found out more facts before welcoming her into my home, but it’s too late. When I looked into her eyes last week, an inexplicable urge to protect her overwhelmed my senses. She’s lost and alone, and although I enjoyed moving to Montana, I’ve isolated myself too. Until she orders me to f**k off, she’s stuck with me.