Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Brynn
“Hey, I’m headed to Joanne’s for the birthday party. Would you guys like to ride with me?” Jack offers on Sunday afternoon.
I hesitate, biting my bottom lip as I remember last night in his truck.
My face heats up. As much as I want to spend more time with Jack, I also know that I need a little space.
The memory of last night in his truck is still too fresh, too distracting.
I can barely keep my thoughts straight when he’s around, let alone pretend everything is normal in front of Olivia.
“No, thank you. I need to stop at the flower shop first, and I don’t want to hold you up.”
It’s not a total lie but mostly an excuse.
My stomach clenches as I see the way he tenses at my response. He nods slowly.
“I don’t mind.”
“I know, but you should get there early and spend extra time with your family. We’ll be all right.”
He nods and walks away. I can feel Olivia’s eyes on me, but I turn around so she can’t see my face.
My baby girl is so perceptive. I can’t let her look in my eyes or at me because I am not good at keeping my emotions off my face.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and get ready so we can head into town?”
By the time Olivia and I arrive at the party, the house is already buzzing with kids running around and laughter echoing from the backyard. She darts off toward Ava immediately.
Joanne greets me with a warm hug and a knowing smile.
“I’m so glad you guys made it,” she says.
“Of course. Everything looks great. Do you need help with anything?”
“You’re a guest,” she says with a smile. “You’re not doing anything. Besides, Mom has overtaken the kitchen and everything else. She won’t let you lift a finger.”
I look over to see Jack throwing a football with Bret. My stomach does that stupid little flip it does as I watch his muscular body move with ease as he throws and catches. He and Bret are deep in conversation, laughing as they talk.
“You’d never know he was in the hospital not long ago,” I murmur.
Joanne laughs and shakes her head. “He’s stubborn as a mule. I told him to sit down, but he refuses. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
I can feel her eyes boring into me. I move uncomfortably.
“He’s not going to listen to me.”
“I heard about Savannah’s little show last night,” Joanne says, her voice laced with amusement.
I close my eyes and sigh. “I was hoping that news wouldn’t travel so fast.”
Joanne chuckles. “Honey, in this town? You should know better.” She studies me for a moment, her eyes twinkling. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me you were going on a date with my brother.”
Heat rushes to my face. “It happened really fast. And Olivia doesn’t know. I don’t want to confuse her or… complicate things.”
Her expression softens. “That’s understandable, but I have to tell you, I’m thrilled. Jack needs someone like you in his life.”
Before I can respond, Mrs. Renfrew walks into the kitchen and perks up at the sight of us. “Oh, Brynn, I was just saying to Joanne the other day—I hoped this would happen.”
“You know, too?”
“Who do you think told me? She heard about it at church this morning.” Joanne laughs. “See? You’ve got mom’s stamp of approval.”
I can feel how bright red my face is in this moment. I’m overwhelmed and embarrassed, but mostly a little scared that if the adults are talking about it, then so are the kids, which means this conversation with Olivia will have to happen sooner rather than later.
Am I ready for that?
Just then, Jack walks into the room, and before I can even process the moment more, both his sister and mother wrap him in hugs.
“I’m so happy for you,” Mrs. Renfrew tells him. “You be good to her.”
“I knew this was going to play out this way,” Joanne says proudly. “I told you she was a good one.”
I hold my breath. I half expect him to get annoyed or roll his eyes, but he just grins, his eyes locked onto me.
“I’m aware,” he says smoothly. “I’m a very lucky man.”
My stomach flips.
Gah, why does he have to be so sweet?
I can feel my cheeks turning pink again, and I can’t stop smiling. He walks past me, brushing up against me gently. His hand seeks out mine and he briefly squeezes it before he walks back outside.
The party continues in full swing, with kids darting in and out, tearing into their presents, and running around with excitement. Olivia is off playing with Ava, and I watch as Jack mingles effortlessly with his family.
Joanne and Rick get the kids all gathered outside on the back porch while Mrs. Renfrew carries the cake out with the candles on it. Ava blows them out and then starts opening her presents. When she’s through all of them, Jack hands her a card.
“Thanks, Uncle Jack.” She smiles as she opens it.
She rips into the paper, her eyes widening as she opens the card.
“What is it?” Joanne asks, leaning in.
Ava’s mouth falls open, and then, in a high-pitched scream, she shouts, “UNCLE JACK GOT ME TICKETS TO SEE MIDNIGHT HORIZON! VIP PASSES! I CAN MEET THEM! IS THIS REAL?”
The room erupts with excitement. Ava practically launches herself at Jack, hugging him so hard he stumbles back with a laugh.
“I figured you and a friend might like to go,” he says, ruffling her hair.
She jumps up and down, screaming in delight. She keeps running over and hugging Jack. She grabs Olivia and hugs her, and the two of them jump up and down some more.
“Man,” Bret says, shaking his head. “You really stole the show, Uncle Jack.”
Jack chuckles. “That was the goal, kid.”
Watching him with his niece and nephew, seeing the way he softens, the way he makes them feel special, it’s a side of him I really like. A side I can’t help but fall for a little more.
I’m in trouble.
The kids all run off to play and gush over all of Ava’s new clothes and presents, and all the girls are dreaming about the concert.
The remnants of her birthday party are scattered—wrapping paper crumpled on the patio, half-eaten slices of cake abandoned on paper plates.
The adults are gathered around, sipping sweet tea and chatting, their voices a comfortable hum in the background.
Jack is standing next to me, relaxed but present, his fingers occasionally grazing my lower back in quiet reassurance.
It’s subtle—nothing overt that would catch Olivia’s or the kids’ attention—but it’s enough to keep my heart beating a little too fast. Every accidental brush of his hand against mine sends a rush of awareness through me, and I have to remind myself to stay focused on the conversation, not on how badly I want to pull him somewhere private and relive last night all over again.
Joanne shakes her head at Jack, a mixture of exasperation and affection in her expression. “You really didn’t have to go all out like that, you know.”
He chuckles, lifting his drink to his lips. “I wanted to. I’ve got the money to spend, and that’s how I wanted to spend it. I’m excited to take her and whoever else.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “You do realize you just volunteered yourself to sit through a concert full of screaming preteens, right?”
Mrs. Renfrew, sitting across from us, lets out a soft laugh. “Oh, honey, I give you ten minutes before you start regretting that decision.”
He shrugs, completely unfazed. “I wasn’t around a lot when Bret and Ava were little. That’s on me. But now that I’m back in Hicks Creek, I plan on being here for them. So, if that means enduring a few hours of chaos and high-pitched shrieking, I can handle it.”
Mrs. Renfrew’s expression softens, and she reaches over, pulling Jack into a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re home for good.”
He returns the hug easily, his voice quiet but sure. “Me too, Ma.”
I watch the exchange, feeling a warmth settle in my chest. This side of Jack—the devoted uncle, the man determined to make up for lost time—is a contrast to the rugged cowboy who had me pinned against the post in the barn a few days ago. And yet, both versions of him feel undeniably like Jack.
His eyes meet mine as if he knows where my brain is right now. The air between us tightens for a moment, and I have to force myself to break eye contact before I get completely lost in him.
The conversation shifts, Joanne moving on to talk about the latest town gossip, and I take a sip of my drink, trying to ground myself.
Jack’s presence is a constant, his fingers ghosting over my hand when no one is looking, his palm resting briefly on my lower back as he leans in to murmur something about how ridiculous the latest rumor is.
And through it all, my mind keeps circling back to one undeniable truth: I am in deep trouble with this man.