"Stubbornness runs in the family," she reminded him.
"You are right about that. I'm going to clean up the barbecue."
"I'll help," Hunter said, following Ben to his feet.
"Now that we're alone…" Emmalyn began. "I'm far more interested in your relationship with Jax Ridley than I am with your interest in Walter Cobb. You obviously spent some time with Jax today, so what's the real scoop? You must have learned something about him."
"Not really. He was deliberately vague about anything that got personal." She paused. "But he's nicer than I thought. When he smiles, he looks a lot warmer, more reachable, and it feels like the real Jax is inside that rough, cold exterior."
"We have to be able to find out something about him."
"He's not on the Internet. I looked online."
"So you did try to find out more," Emmalyn said with a smug smile.
"My attempt was unsuccessful. He definitely has a story of some sort. But I have no idea what it is."
"You like him, don't you?"
"I wouldn't go that far. I'm intrigued. He's a puzzle, and I like puzzles."
"And he's not bad to look at," Emmalyn put in.
"He is attractive. But he's so hard to read; I can't get a bead on his actual personality. I'm hoping he'll go with me to the bookstore tomorrow, but we'll see. He was noncommittal when I asked him about it."
"I bet he'll go. I think he's intrigued by you, too. You're the only one who's been able to get him to talk at all."
"We just ended up in a situation where he couldn't ignore me."
"That was Friday night," Emmalyn said. "Not today. Not tomorrow."
"Stop matchmaking."
"Fine. I'll shut up…for now. But I'll be interested to hear what happens tomorrow."
An unexpected tingle ran down her spine. She was curious, too, and she wanted to say it was because she might get answers for Walter, but her anticipation had far more to do with Jax. She was going to keep that fact to herself.
Monday morning, Jax got up after a restless night, feeling a mix of emotions, reminding him of how much easier the past two months had been when he'd completely checked out of life. And there was no real reason for him to have checked back in except an old man who'd walked in front of his car and a beautiful redhead he couldn't seem to stop thinking about.
But that wasn't completely true, he realized as the fifth text from his former agent came in. His old life was also trying to butt into his current situation. Clay had been texting and calling him all morning. It was ridiculous.
He picked up his phone and called him back. "What the hell do you want?" he asked when Clay picked up. "I told you on Saturday that I'm not interested in anything related to my former life. What do you not understand about that?"
"Look, I understand how you feel."
"No, you don't, Clay. No one except me could possibly understand how I feel."
"I've known you and Wren for a long time," Clay reminded him. "I was there from the beginning. I was there for you both when no one else was. I'm still the best friend you have. I've given you time and space, but there are things you really need to think about now. Your future is hanging in the balance."
"I don't have a future in music. That's gone."
"It might not be if you would just start talking to us."
"What exactly do you want me to know?"
"I'm sending you something in email, and I want you to promise to read it."
He was fairly sure he knew what that email was about. "If the email is from Wren, I'm not interested. You can tell her and her publicist to stop calling me, too. I've done enough. It's finished. I'm not going to change my mind."
