Chapter 37 Jed and Etta
HART
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SHIT. FUCK. DOUBLE shit.
The campfire goes silent as Dean’s words echo.
It would be nice if we could stop right there and never mention the topic again. Of course, I know that’s not how it’s going to play out.
On another topic, is it too soon after only forgiving each other this morning to lift her finger into my mouth and lap the marshmallow clean off?
The answer is yes.
I know that.
But it doesn’t stop me from thinking it. And today, I don’t have to scold myself for the thought. I don’t have to pretend that I don’t feel it or want it, because we aren’t the same as we were twelve years ago. There’s a whole world of opportunity for us now, and we have time.
Dean’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Like, both of you? Together?” He grins like he’s just discovered the juiciest tea to share.
“That does explain how accurate his guess was,” Celi says. “We probably should’ve put that together.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Bronx crosses his arms, chewing on a toothpick, looking more curious than rattled. “That’s gonna take a minute to sink in.”
“Wait.” Hannah twists in her chair to look at us. “When did you two ever spend enough time together to make a list?”
Jade glances up at me. “We might’ve hung out for a year.”
I’m surprised she admits it, and everyone’s reaction is exactly how you’d expect. They all shoot out questions without giving each other a turn or waiting for an answer.
A year? Like, a whole year?”
“What year?”
“What does hung out mean exactly?”
“How did no one know about this?”
“When did it start?”
“Where were we during all this?”
“Did mama know?”
“Holy shit,” I roar, silencing them.
“Y’all pissed off the big bad brother.” Bronx chuckles, enjoying the show.
“Last year of school,” Jade answers. “Started pretty early. In September.” She looks at me as if for reinforcement.
“September seventeenth.” I would never forget the day.
“Seriously, how did we not know this?” Josie sits in her chair.
“You were too young,” Jade says.
“Sit down.” Levi points to one empty seat by the fire.
A folding sofa.
A two-seater, suspiciously perfect sofa for us. Just like the one he shares with Hope, arm draped over her shoulder, and pulling her snug into the crook of his arm.
It hits different today—a Wilde with a Fox. My brother is living his best life with Hope.
The anger I’ve carried for a year is gone. The unimaginable jealousy I’ve had to bury deep down in my soul has vanished.
I’m just left knowing Jade and I have this chance. The same opportunity to explore whatever is between us and make our way back to each other, like my brother and her sister.
“Tell us everything.” Hope snuggles into Levi.
She’s reluctant, and I see it. I understand it, but I also hate it.
My steady steps ensure we meet at the fire pit together, across from one another, but only one seat is empty by the fire.
A folding sofa.
A two-seat, suspiciously perfect sofa.
“Guess, that’s all that’s left,” Levi mutters, his eyes flicking from the sofa to the rest of the group.
Does he know he’s as bad as the Quylt sisters? They all are. The way they’re irritatingly quiet and watching our every move like they’re waiting for us to declare our eternal love, or taking notes to report back to Wilma and Faye.
“After you.” Gone is my steady and confident tone, replaced by an awkwardness that makes me sound like a clumsy, love-struck teenager.
We sit.
Our legs rub.
Our arms bush.
I don’t pull away. She doesn’t pull away.
Our eyes lock with a flash of something old. Something familiar. And we both pretend nothing’s happened because it’s been so many years of wanting exactly this.
That’s when I notice the silence. Everyone is watching us like we’re an after-school sitcom.
“For fucks sake,” I grumble. “There’s not much to tell. And quite frankly, it’s not any of your business.”
“You guys hated each other in public.”
“Not until later,” Natalie says. “You guys were too busy, caught up in your own lives, but these two spent a year falling in love.”
“You knew?” Hope’s gaze whips to her.
“How did you not know?” Natalie quips back.
“How did I not know?” Hannah asks, but mainly to herself.
“I don’t really care that I didn’t know, but I’m curious how we didn’t see you two together?” Levi props his leg on his knees. “Like ever.”
“We hung out in Jade’s favorite hiding spots.” My tone is chill. “The old greenhouse behind the science wing. The attic in The Underwood School—where the bat lived.”
I hear Jade chuckle at the memory. “The bookstore’s basement.”
Lord, I loved the old couch in that basement.
“And the kissing booth in the event storage room.” That one was our favorite.
“The kissing booth?” This is the first time she’s sounded surprised.
I nod.
She turns to Jade. “That’s why you burned it down?”
Gasps.
Dean chokes on his drink.
Hannah grasps the arms of her chair, sitting forward.
I turn to Jade. “You burned it down?”
She shrugs. “I mean, yes.”
“And you burned it down with her?” Hope asks Natalie.
“To be fair, she gave a good argument.” Natalie isn’t fooling anyone; she knew why her sister burned it down. “The whole degrading tradition toward women.”
I snort, remembering that argument with her last year.
“Which time?” Bronx asks. “The high school burn or the fire last year?”
I scoff. “High school, obviously.” She wouldn’t have done it last year as an adult.
Guilt shades Jade’s eyes. “Both times.”
Everyone explodes.
“You what?!”
“Last year?”
“Oh my god.”
“Are we just casually admitting arson now?” Josie looks like she’d jump on that bandwagon.
“So what you’re saying,” Dean starts. “Is that you two had a secret friends-to-lovers—”
“We were teens,” I say.
Dean holds up his hand. “Don’t break the tropes.”
“What tropes?” Jade asks.
“Don’t get him started.”
But the question does exactly that, and he gets lost in a world of romance tropes I honestly don’t understand.
“This reminds me of a story I know.” Bronx tips back his hat. “Ya’ll ever hear ‘bout Sheriff Jed and the bootlegger’s daughter Etta?”
Sitting straight in his chair, he slowly breaks a graham cracker in half on his lap. He pays no attention to the crumbs that spill on his jeans.
“No one agreed that you’re telling the story.” Josie lounges sideways on the chair next to his.
Her head hangs off one side with her legs draped over the other. She kicks his shoulder with her bare foot, and the crackers slide between Bronx’s legs.
“Shit,” he grumbles.
“He does tell good stories.” Celi sits cross-legged in her own chair. “If Daisy hadn’t hit the hay early for tomorrow’s race, she’d agree with me.”
“No thanks.” Josie curls her legs under the blanket, wrapping it around her like a cocoon.
Everyone’s here. Levi and Hope snuggle in another double sofa beside Dean and Harper.
“I second Celi.” Wyatt’s legs stretch out in front of him, his chair wedged between Hannah and Natalie.
“There’s no voting.”
Does Josie realize how ironic that sounds coming from her? She’s little Miss Voter of every ridiculous topic at the weekly town hall meetings.
“Bronx tells a good story.” Wyatt shrugs, his arms firm over his chest. “He’s got the gift of gab.”
“I got the gift of many things.” His arrogance is one of them.
Josie snorts. “Doubt it.”
“Listen, kid. Do you want a s’more or not?” He waves his hand over his lap, offering up the graham crackers like a peace offering while holding a wrapped chocolate bar in his other hand.
“No.”
“I’m makin’ you one so you don’t burn yourself alive.”
“I don’t want your s’mores or whatever comes attached to the offer. Weirdo.”
His smirk falters. “There was no innuendo.”
“Old man.”
He turns to her. “You know, I’m not that old.”
I lean back on the sofa, and Jade slinks closer to me.
“Sorry.” I attempt to shift, but it drags her closer.
She tilts her head, and it’s different having her greet me with a smile. “I’ll take an apology trophy.”
One corner of my mouth rises. “Just a trophy, huh?”
“A three-foot-high trophy.”
I chuckle. “Nothing outrageous.”
“Either that or the giant octopus stuffed animal at the fair.”
“What’s with you and octopuses?” Although I’d gladly take her back for another day at the fair.
“Octopi.” She’s quick to correct.
I grin. “That came out snarky.”
“Did it?”
I’ll never admit it, but something about her snarkiness does things to my insides.
“Jed was a straight shooter, sworn to the law, keepin’ the peace ‘round these parts.” Bronx unwraps the chocolate bar, setting chunks carefully atop the crackers on his lap. “Etta was raised in the shadows, runnin’ moonshine and secrets under the town and through the hills.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” Josie’s legs bounce under her blanket.
“Pass me the damn poker stick, would ya?” Bronx holds out his hands. “Instead of bitchin’.”
“Um. No.” Josie doesn’t move, so Celi hands him her poker.
“Thanks.” He looks at Josie. “Marshmallows?”
She huffs, pulling the bag from under her blanket and throwing it at Bronx.
He curses when the crackers and chocolate slide to the crack between his legs again, and the marshmallows bounce on his lap.
“You two need a blanket?” The blanket hits my face before Levi even finishes asking.
“They met one summer night, at the county fair.” Bronx skewers a couple of jumbo marshmallows.
Just the mention of a fair and the day rushes back.
I’d relive this day over and over with her if I could.
It was a welcome change not having walls built between us.
Hell, it’s nice not having them right now.
It’s been a long time since this part of me has felt at peace—the part of me I’ve guarded for so long.
I feel different now. Alive. Brave. Not fighting to survive, not slowly dying from the inside.
“Here.” I spread the plaid wool blanket over her lap.
“I don’t mind sharing.” She holds the edge out to me.
Our hands brush as I take it from her, and that moment lights everything inside me. It takes me more than a second to move away from her touch and adjust the blanket over my legs.