Chapter Twenty-One #3
The same couldn’t be said for the tent’s interior. Gawdy silver and lavender decorations littered every surface, every wall, everything.
Brooke slipped inside while Jo stopped at the opening and squatted to wipe the mud from her heels onto the grass.
“Hey.” A pair of boots stopped next to her.
Recognizing them, she glanced up at Chase in his crisp lavender shirt. He held out a hand, and she took it to rise. She hadn’t seen him since he left the hospital. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m getting by.”
She knew what a lie looked like on Chase Murdoch, and that was a big one.
“I’m heading home. Still, a little tired.” He shoved both hands in his jeans pocket, the same way Avery had done the morning she’d left him. “I hoped to talk to you before I left.”
She angled a nod toward the community center. “No rest for the weary.”
He glanced at the building across the lawn, then toward the trees. “I’m, uh…” His gaze flicked to meet hers. “Jo, I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you. I never should have gotten involved with Giselle.”
“How did that even happen?” She’d been trying to put all the pieces together but couldn’t reconcile the two of them.
“I, uh, went to see you at work not long after we broke up. I wanted us to try again. She invited me into her office, said she wanted to get to know you better. We sorta connected, the chemistry and all, and…”
“I see.”
“I thought it was a one-off, but then she called me.” He cleared his throat.
“I didn’t know she was a nut job until I tried to call it off with her.
She accused me of still wanting you. Ranted about how much I texted you, and fuck, she came unglued when I told her I went by your apartment to check on you for Walt.
Sorry, I know I shouldn’t talk about her like that, but goddamn, Jo, I was scared shitless when I realized she was the one fucking with you. ”
“I don’t understand a lot of what happened, and the cops haven’t been very forthcoming. Why were you there?”
Chase’s shoulders hunched around his ears, then sagged. “Fucking cops kept picking me up the second I hit Houston. I think someone was following me, telling ’em when I went on a run for Dad.”
The PI Nick hired. It had to be.
“He’s so pissed at me. He couldn’t get his deliveries, and…anyway, the cops thought it was me. Then last Friday, I was at Giselle’s looking for something she needed at the shop. I opened a cabinet and recognized those ugly pans you used to hang on your wall. It clicked, you know.”
That didn’t make any sense. “Why would she have kept them?”
“Crazies keep trophies.” He shifted to lean against a pole, taking the weight off his injured leg.
“As soon as I left her house, the cops grabbed me again. I told ’em what I’d found, but they held me overnight while they looked into it.
As soon as they let me go, I went to confront her.
That’s when I saw you by the van, and all I could think of was getting you away from her.
After that, everything happened so fast.”
“But why were the cops there? And why didn’t they intervene?”
“They were following me. They had evidence on Giselle, but they weren’t sure whether I was in on it. I swear I wasn’t, Jo. I’d never hurt you.” He ducked his head. “Not that way.”
“I know. You just scared me for a minute. I didn’t understand why you were there, trying to make me leave.
” Jo stepped toward him and laid a hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry, too, Chase. That you’re having to deal with all this, the cops, Giselle, everything.
You saved my life. Mine and Avery’s, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“I will be.” He bobbed his head. “I thought he was an asshole when he showed up at your apartment that night.”
That made her laugh. “He was an asshole that night.”
“But I saw the fear in his eyes when Giselle had ahold of you. Same as me, he was scared for you, not himself.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I hope he makes you happy.”
“Happiness is an inside job. Only you can make it happen.”
I’m trying, Grandma.
All week, she’d tried to ignore the ache that had taken up residence behind her ribs and the way it fisted around her heart and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe.
“Thank you. I should get back to work.”
“Don’t let them work you too hard.” His smile actually reached his eyes this time. “And tell that asshole Preston I said thanks for taking care of my girl.”
Jo watched Chase hobble off as she tried to compose herself.
Brooke sidled up beside her. “What did he want?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t want to talk about it.
“Well, you don’t have time for his bullshit. You’ve got a guest who demands to talk to the person in charge of the catering.”
“Great.” Jo inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. “Point me in the right direction.”
“He’s straight through there.” Brooke pointed toward the head table.
“Fuck, is it Walt? I swear he’s complained as much as Georgia.” Jo strode forward, through the jam-packed tent. Georgia must have invited the whole county. A local band played country music that competed with the loud buzz of conversation.
A sea of lavender parted. The head table was straight ahead. And so was he.
Avery.
Jo latched onto Brooke’s hand and veered right to duck behind a pack of burly cowboys. “What’s he doing here?”
“Go hear him out,” Brooke whispered.
“What do you mean, ‘Go hear him out?’ Did you know he’d be here? What’s going on?” Panic fired through Jo, evaporating the oxygen in her lungs. Her pulse raced, growing louder in her ears, drowning out the crowd and the music. Sweat dampened her palms.
“He’s here for you.”
“He’s supposed to be in Greece.”
“But he’s not.”
No, he wasn’t on the beach with some beach babe in his lap like she’d imagined. He was sitting in this crappy tent with her crappy family, listening to them argue and complain because that was all they ever did. She smiled. “There is a fence.”
And he’d fucking jumped off it!
Jo peered over a broad shoulder and drank him in, every beautiful inch of him.
He sat at the end of the table, leaning back and a little sideways in his chair, one arm hooked over the back, his legs crossed. Armani had the pleasure of hugging his body tonight—black wool. He wore a white shirt and a lavender tie that matched her dress perfectly.
Chocolate brown eyes narrowed as he listened to something Lydia said. One hand rested on the table, drumming long fingers on the white tablecloth, letting Jo know he wasn’t as sure of himself as he wanted everyone to think.
And next to his drumming fingers…
A 1971 avocado green mixer with a big red bow on top.
Fresh tears gathered in her throat. It had to be a replica. But no, right down to the frayed cord and a couple of extra dings to match the ones it already had, it was her grandma’s mixer. “I don’t understand. Giselle destroyed it.”
“He found someone to restore it after the cops couldn’t lift any prints.”
She whirled on Brooke. “That was three weeks ago.”
“He wanted it to be—”
“A surprise,” Jo finished with her. Of course, he did. “You knew?”
Brooke held up her hands. “Hey, I just found out this morning.”
“And you’ve been plotting with him all day?”
“He was pretty persuasive,” she said with a sheepish smile.
Jo rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.” She took Jo’s hand in hers. “But you’ve been walking around like the dead all week. You love him. He’s making an effort. Don’t throw it away because you’re scared. Take a chance to be happy.”
“Ships are safe in harbor, but ships are meant to sail.”
That one came out of nowhere. Grandma hadn’t used it often, but it sounded an awful lot like a sign…or a blessing.
I can stay in harbor…or jump off the fence. He’s not the only one straddling it.
Jo nodded, and Brooke gave her a nudge. “You can do this.”
The second Jo stepped from her hiding spot, he saw her. Those dark eyes lit up, and the silky black wave flopping over one brow enhanced the cocky grin that pulled at his lips. Her tummy did a little flip, and with each step, the knot tied around her heart loosened.
Not because, by some miracle, a piece of her grandma was sitting on the table. The gesture, though so heart-tuggingly sweet, said so much more than the three little words he’d never said. She’d felt them in every word, every kiss, every touch.
“…she got herself fired, we were so worried about her.” Lydia reached out to pat his arm and giggled. “And then you came along.”
Jo rolled her eyes. The woman had no shame.
“Yes,” he said, drawing out the word. “I’m very fortunate to have found her.”
Stopping in front of him, Jo crossed her arms and spiked a brow. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted a lavender envelope. Silver glitter fell on white linen. “I was invited.”
“Well, of course, he was invited. He’s your boyfriend.” Lydia’s sharp tone scraped along Jo’s nerves like sandpaper. “I just don’t understand why we had to invite him when you should have.”
Jo couldn’t stop the flush of heat in her cheeks.
She hadn’t told them anything. They would find out sooner or later, and she just couldn’t listen to Lydia harp about how she’d been stupid to walk away from him, that she’d never stood a chance with a man like him anyway.
Not when she’d already told herself those things.
“That’s a very good question, Mrs. Hayes.” Avery tilted his head to one side but kept his eyes on Jo. “Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”
Lydia’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, probably shocked that she’d been asked to leave her own table. Jo bit back a laugh.
Walt pushed his chair back. “Come on, Lydia. I need a drink. Something harder than my daughter is serving.”
As soon as they left, Jo looked at the crush of people around them. “A moment alone?”
Avery sat up, reached for her hand, and pulled her toward him. “I don’t see anyone but you.”
Oh fuck, he was turning up the charm.