Chapter Six
Jack
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I FEEL HER GET UP, but don’t try to get out of bed myself. It’s early. Way too early. Her bed is small but comfortable and it smells like her. I can’t explain the feeling, but it’s like all of this is on borrowed time. I want to take advantage of every second I can get with her.
She isn’t kicking me out just yet. I listen to her in the bathroom and consider climbing into the shower with her. By the time I figure out what to do, she’s already out. She’s obviously in a hurry. I reach over and grab my phone. It’s not even five yet. Being off the farm the last couple of months and I’m already out of practice. Back then, I never needed an alarm. If I didn’t wake up on my own, my brothers or my dad made sure my ass was up.
She steps back into the room, her hair twisted up and the scent of citrus following her. I smile and inhale. It’s her body wash. She always has that hint of citrus about her. Now, I know where it comes from.
I watch her dress quickly. She’s efficient. A woman that isn’t worried about what shoes to wear or if her pants make her butt look big. She’s a woman on a mission. I catch her wrist as she passes the bed, pulling her down for one last kiss. She tastes like mint toothpaste.
“Don’t go,” I murmur against her lips.
She laughs, swatting my chest. “I have to.”
“But I want you again.”
“And I want you, but I’m going to have twenty customers banging on the bakery door wanting to know why they can’t get their fresh muffins and bagels. And let me tell you, they can get unruly.”
I grin, pulling her down for one more kiss. “I’ll let you go, but only because I don’t want to be responsible for a muffin riot. But tonight? You’re mine again.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “We’ll see.” She grabs her bag and heads for the door, pausing to glance back at me. “Lock up when you leave?”
“Of course,” I say, propping myself up on one elbow. “Go conquer the bakery.”
She gives me a mock salute and disappears out the door, leaving me alone in her quiet little house. I lie back, staring at the ceiling, her citrus scent still lingering in the air. My thoughts drift back to last night—the way she felt against me, the way she looked at me like I was everything she needed in that moment. But there was something in her eyes afterward, something unspoken. It’s gnawing at me.
I roll out of bed and grab my clothes, pulling them on quickly. The house feels too empty without her here, and I suddenly feel like an intruder. I make the bed haphazardly and head for the living area. Max is lazily stretching on the back of the couch.
“Hey, buddy,” I murmur, scratching under his chin. He purrs loudly but doesn’t open his eyes.
I grab a glass of water and lean against the counter, my mind racing. It would be so easy to just...stay. To move my stuff from Aggie’s spare room to Jinnie’s tiny house. To wake up like this every morning.
But it’s too soon. Too complicated.
With Sam lurking in the background and my own family drama brewing, the last thing Jinnie needs is more pressure. She’s not ready for that big step. Hell, neither am I. I have no idea what the future holds for me. It might not be here. There’s always a chance people get tired of my singing and my draw fades. Once winter comes, people are less likely to make the drive to the bar.
I know I can’t rely on Aggie’s kindness and generosity forever. What I’m doing now isn’t a life plan. It’s doing what works in the moment. Jinnie is only a little more settled than I am. I know she’s got her own desire to spread her wings and fly. Our destinies might be in different directions. I don’t want to add more chaos to our lives by dealing with a breakup that involves moving out and away.
“See you later, Max. Thanks for the respect last night.”
He barely acknowledges me. I suppose that’s better than trying to claw my eyes out. I lock the door behind me. The fresh air feels good and I take a minute just to appreciate it. It’s been a while since I’ve been up this early. Not since I was sleeping in a tent next to the creek.
The thought makes me smile. I climb in my truck and make the short trip back to Aggie’s house. I feel like I’m doing the walk of shame. Thankfully, she’s cool with me not coming home at night. But I know I owe her some kind of explanation. I assume she’s going to be in bed still. I can sneak in and catch another hour or two of sleep.
But when I open the door, I know that isn’t going to happen.
The house smells like coffee and bacon when I walk in. Aggie is humming off-key at the stove.
“Morning, sunshine,” she says without turning around.
“You’re up,” I say with surprise.
“I up home early. I need to head into town and get some things. I prefer to get there early before the heat hits. The heat and the people.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.
“Nope. But I wouldn’t mind if you could take a look at that fan in the greenhouse. It was working and now it’s not.”
“I will.” I nod.
“Go wash up and breakfast will be ready.”
I head to the bathroom, splashing water on my face and running a hand through my hair. The coolness of the water helps shake off the lingering haze of Jinnie’s bed and the too-early morning. When I come back out, Aggie’s setting two plates on the table—bacon, eggs, and toast. My stomach growls at the sight.
“Thanks,” I say, sliding into a chair. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Figured you’d need it,” she says lightly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She eyes me over the rim of her mug as she sits down. “Long night?”
I glance up at her, my fork hovering over my plate. There’s no judgment in her tone, just curiosity. Still, I’m not sure how much to say. “Uh, yeah. Kind of.”
She nods, taking a sip of her coffee. “Jinnie okay?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, shoving a bite of eggs into my mouth to buy myself time. “She had an early shift at the bakery.”
Aggie hums, her eyes narrowing slightly like she’s piecing something together. “You two seem to be getting along well.”
I offer a half-smile. “A gentleman does not kiss and tell.”
She chuckles. “Good answer. How is she?”
“Good. She needs a strong, solid man beside her. The boys around here don’t see her beauty. They don’t see her potential. I think you do.”
“Why?” I ask. “I mean, why me?”
Aggie sets her coffee mug down, her sharp eyes studying me for a moment before she speaks. “Because you’re different, Jack. You’re not like the other boys around here. You’ve got dreams that stretch beyond this town, and I think Jinnie needs someone who understands what that feels like. Someone who won’t try to clip her wings just because they’re scared of where she might fly.”
I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. Aggie nailed it. Jinnie and I both have stars in our eyes. “You think she wants to leave?”
“Not necessarily,” Aggie says with a shrug. “But she’s always been restless. She’s got a fire in her, just like you do. And sometimes, fire needs room to breathe.”
I nod slowly, chewing on her words along with the last bite of toast. It makes sense. I know Jinnie says she wants to go to the city and pursue marketing. I get it. But at the same time, there’s something about her that feels rooted here, too. Like this place is part of her in a way she can’t—or won’t—let go of.
I shovel food into my mouth. There’s so much I want to ask her. I would love to pick her brain about Sam, about whether Jinnie’s ever brought someone home before, about what happens if this annulment goes south. But it’s not my place. Aggie has no idea there was even a marriage. I can’t reveal the secret Jinnie’s been keeping.
Aggie watches me over her coffee cup. “You’re thinking loud enough to wake the dead.”
“Just tired.”
“Mm-hmm.” She doesn’t push, just refills my coffee. “You playing tonight?”
“Can I?” I ask.
She chuckles. “Absolutely. We had a few people ask about you last night. I reminded them you’re a human, not a machine. If you sing your heart out every night, you’re going to fry your voice before the rest of the world gets to hear it.”
“I am trying to do a better job taking care of it,” I tell her.
“Good.”
“I’m going to play that new ballad.”
“The one about Jinnie?”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “How did you—”
“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”
“She loves it,” I say with a grin.
“Oh, I know. Every young woman in there thinks you’re singing about them or directly to them.”
That makes me laugh. “That’s the trick, right?”
Aggie chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re a charmer, Jack. Just don’t let it go to your head.” She stands, taking her empty plate to the sink. “I’m headed out. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Drive safe.”
I finish eating and then quickly rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. After fixing the fan, I shower and sit down to do a little rehearsal. Jinnie is on my mind. Always. I don’t want to think too hard on our situation. This thing has to unfold in its own time. I’m letting Fate handle it.
The Hollow Log is packed by the time I take the stage that night, the air thick with the smell of beer and sweat. I launch into my set with more energy than usual, feeding off the crowd’s rowdy energy. There’s a lot of college guys in the crowd. And they look like they’re on the hunt for trouble. I keep my eye on things just in case a fight breaks out.
Halfway through, I catch sight of a group of women near the front—all dressed up, all watching me with varying degrees of interest. One in particular, a brunette in a tight red dress, keeps licking her lips like I’m the main course.
A year ago, this would’ve been everything I wanted. Proof that I was worth something. That the guys back home—Aiden and his crew—were wrong about me.
Now?
Now I just play harder, pouring everything into the music itself rather than what it can get me.
During my break, I grab a water at the bar. The brunette appears beside me, her perfume wrapping around me and practically putting me in a chokehold. It’s nothing like Jinnie’s fresh and light scents.
“You’re really good,” she purrs, fingers brushing my arm.
“Thanks.” I step back.
She tilts her head, undeterred. “You ever play private parties?”
“Not really my thing.”
Her smile turns knowing. “I could make it worth your while.”
The offer hangs between us, clear as day. And for a second, I hesitate. Not because I want her—but because the old me would’ve said yes without thinking.
The old me was an idiot.
“I’m seeing someone,” I say, softer than I need to.
Her face falls, but she recovers quickly. “Lucky girl.”
“Yeah,” I agree, looking toward the door like Jinnie might walk in any second. “She is.”
The rest of the set flies by, the crowd’s energy is off the charts. When I finish, my shirt’s soaked through, my fingers aching, but it’s the good kind of pain. The kind that means I left everything on the stage.
The brunette’s gone by the time I pack up, her friends with her. Aggie hands me my tip jar, heavier than usual.
“Made a killing tonight,” she says, eyeing me. “Usually that crowd isn’t big on tipping.”
“I’m wiped out,” I say. “That was wild. They weren’t interested in ballads.”
She laughs. “I don’t know where you get the energy, but good job.”
“Thanks, Aggie.”