Chapter 5
In Texas, spring borders on the divine. Bluebonnets blanket the countryside, while children”s laughter rings from the playground. We better enjoy it before the heat of summer overtakes us.
I stand behind the booth at the farmer”s market, arranging the chilled bottles of my latest brew. A light breeze ruffles the edges of the patterned tablecloth, carrying the mingled aromas of fresh produce, baked goods, and blooming flowers.
Mia”s already working her magic, chatting up the early arrivals with that radiant smile of hers. She has a way of drawing people in, making them feel like part of the family.
My gaze drifts over the thinning crowd, searching for any familiar faces. That”s when I spot _him_—Jermaine Knights in the flesh, strolling across the grassy field with Ms. Mae on his arm.
Hidden behind my shades, I give myself permission to really look at him.
Jermaine”s still effortlessly handsome, all lean muscle and confident swagger. The crisp white tee he wears stretches across his broad shoulders, while those cargo shorts showcase his thick, powerful thighs.
My mouth waters at the memory of being wrapped in those strong arms, skin sliding against skin as we?—
Down, girl.I give myself a mental shake, cheeks flushing.
My lack of bedroom action is scrambling my common sense. Jermaine is the past, but a girl can enjoy the sight.
Since it”s been too damn long since I”ve been with a man that know how to handle all of this. That”s the downside of small-town living, especially since my weekends are spent on my business.
So, unless I make time to drive into Houston or Dallas, I”ll live vicariously through Mia. Who has the uncanny ability to snag the new guys in town without fail.
”Well, I”ll be...” Mia cocks a brow, following my line of sight. ”If it isn”t tall, dark, and fine as hell himself.”
I roll my eyes, busying myself with straightening the tasting notes. ”You”re a mess.”
”Oh please, don”t act like you didn”t take a second to admire the view too.” She hip-checks me playfully. ”The man is sinfully gorgeous.”
I can”t argue there. Jermaine has always been easy on the eyes, even more so now that he”s grown into his full height and muscular build.
But it”s more than just physical appeal. There”s a quiet intensity about him, a simmering energy that commands your full attention the moment he enters a space.
Sure enough, heads are already swiveling in his direction as he guides his mother through the bustling market. We see each other often since she”s one-third of the Amigas. But I”ve made it a point not to I”ve been intentional about not asking after Jermaine.
They approach the table, her warm laughter mingling with Jermaine”s deep baritone.
I steel myself as they draw nearer, my fingers tightening around the bottle in my grip.
This is just another patron, another potential customer. I”m a professional, dammit. I can handle a little awkward small talk.
Except Jermaine”s gaze zeros in on me the moment he enters my orbit. Our eyes lock, and the world seems to fall away.
I really need to get this guy out of my system.
His full lips quirk into a smile. ”Ladies.”
”Jermaine,” I manage to keep my tone coolly polite as if I didn”t see him last night.
”Mother had to check for your Passion Fruit Ale.” There”s emphasis on passion, a weight that leaves me slightly breathless.
Either that, or I”m tripping.
Aunt Mae, bless her heart, remains oblivious to the sudden tension.
Jermaine hovers nearby as Mia walks his mother through our latest seasonal offerings, fielding questions with her usual enthusiasm. Then she turns her attention towards me.
”Hey, Lady Londyn! Your momma said we have a Girl”s Night Out planned for next week.” She releases Jermaine”s arm to pull me into a fierce embrace. ”Can we get a painting with a sexy model?”
Jermaine chokes on his sample and whips his gaze in my direction.
”Yes, ma”am. I”m sure Mia can handle that request.” I give her a good squeeze and suppress a giggle.
The Amigas are my mother”s best friends and are like second mothers to me. Aunt Mae and Aunt Marj are never more than a phone call away.
I return the hug readily, breathing in her comforting floral scent. It”s like being wrapped in a warm, familiar blanket.
When she finally releases me, she holds my gaze. ”Was he nice?”
”What, who nice, Aunt Mae?” I play dumb, not wanting to tell her the truth about her son. That he lives his life with his eyes clearly focused on the rearview mirror.
Every so often, my gaze strays to the man himself. He seems...lighter somehow, more relaxed than last night.
The tense line of his shoulders has eased, and there”s a softness around his eyes I don”t recall seeing before.
Aunt Mae rolls her eyes and lowers her voice, ensuring only I can hear her. ”You know who. Mr. I-want-to-rule-the-the-world,” she whispers, a mischievous glint in her eye. ”You know what I miss most about you two being together? Besides the dream of calling you my daughter-in-love, of course?”
”Uh…sure, Aunt Mae.”
Her gaze drifts to Jermaine, and a hint of melancholy clouds her eyes.
”I miss the way you made him smile, you know? The kind that lit up his whole face. He”s just so... guarded now. Like he”s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.” She sighs, and for a moment, the sadness in her eyes reflects not only her own feelings but also the weight of her son”s burdens.
”Both my boys,” she adds, as if that one phrase could encapsulate the depth of her maternal worry.
”He”ll figure it out.”
Aunt Mae”s eyes brim with unshed tears. ”Yeah, but when? Life can be so unfair. It took Jerome before I knew it, and I”ll always regret the time wasted on petty arguments and worrying about bills. I should”ve spent more time with him, soaking up every bit of him, so I”d know how to live without him.”
I circle my arm around her shoulders and hold her tight. ”I”m sorry, Aunt Mae.”
Aunt Mae dabs her eyes with a tissue, her voice thick with emotion. ”No, don”t apologize, hon. I had a love you kids will never know. You”re all so caught up in ”progress” that you miss the present.”
Shots fired.
Jermaine stands to his full height after signing the receipt for his purchases. His gaze darts from his mother to me.
I wonder if she”s right.
Did we mess up? We were so focused on degrees and making a mark in our careers that we took each other for granted. Now, we”ll never know what could”ve been.
”You ready, Ma?”
”No, baby. Wait right here. I need to pick up my basket of peaches.” She presses a kiss to his cheek before turning to me. ”Bare chest and those little swimming underwear.”
Mia bursts into laughter as the color drains from Jermaine”s face—which is nearly impossible with the rich hue of his skin. But the talk of his mother looking at a bare-chest model does the trick.
Aunt Mae walks off with a chuckle, and Mia moves to the other end of the table to ring up some customers.
Jermaine and I stand in silence, lingering beneath the shade of the old oak tree. And I steal a glance at the version of Jermaine that ushers his mother through the Farmer”s Market.
A sweeter, soulful guy I once knew so intimately.
Jermaine takes the lull as his cue, and shifts to face me fully.
For the first time, I notice the slight tension returning to the hard line of his jaw, the subtle shuttering of emotion in those dark, expressive eyes.
He clears his throat. ”I owe you an apology for last night. That wasn”t...my finest moment.”
A wry chuckle escapes me before I can temper it. ”You could say that again.”
Jermaine”s lips twitch, hinting at a reluctant smile. ”I let my emotions get the better of me. That”s no excuse, but...you have to understand how it felt to see you again after all this time.”
The rawness in his tone gives me pause. I study him anew, searching for any lingering traces of anger or resentment.
But all I see is wistful longing, that same aching sense of missed opportunities that tugs at my own heartstrings whenever I”m around him.
Impulsively, I reach across the table to give his forearm a gentle squeeze. ”I get it, Jermaine. Really, I do. We”ve both been carrying a lot of baggage around for way too long.”
His gaze drops to my hand, something molten flickering in those rich brown depths. Slowly, he turns his arm until his calloused palm is cradling my smaller one.
My heart starts to race as our hands touch, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt through me. Jermaine clears his throat, breaking the charged silence.
”Mind if I join you while Mother makes her rounds?” he asks, nodding towards the empty chair across from me.
”No, not at all,” I manage to say, my voice a little shaky. ”Want a cool one?” I gesture to my personal bottles in the cooler.
”I”d love it,” he says, sliding into the chair.
The late afternoon sun beats down as Jermaine and I kick back with a couple of cold ones.
There”s something relaxing about this casual setting that loosens me up a little. Maybe it”s the festive vibe or the cool breeze or the good beer.
Whatever it is, I find myself letting my guard down, bit by bit.
”So, your mobile bar concept is really taking off,” Jermaine says, eyes sparkling with interest as he nurses his beer. ”I”ve heard good things.”
A surge of pride swells in my chest. ”Yeah, it”s been a journey figuring out the right events and locations. But the farmers” markets have been golden - people love grabbing a craft cocktail or brew while they shop.”
I take a swig, the crisp hops tingling my tongue. ”My dream is to run Crown Jewel full-time eventually. Build up enough of a following to hire staff, maybe expand my taproom space.”
Jermaine nods slowly, an approving smile tugging at his lips. ”I can see it. You”ve always had that entrepreneurial spirit. It”ll happen if you stay focused.”
His words are like a salve on the worries that sometimes keep me up at night. Coming from someone as accomplished as him, it means a lot.
”Speaking of business empires...” I trail off, cocking a brow. ”What”s it like building a billionaire brand?”
A wistful look crosses his face. ”It”s been one hell of a thrill, I won”t lie. But there”s also constant pressure to uphold my family”s legacy, you know?”
Family legacy? The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. ”Oh shit, that”s right - Knights Brewery used to be your parents” place, didn”t it?”
He nods again, lips pressed into a tight line. ”After my old man sold it, and passed away, it all fell apart. Reviving the brand was...personal.”
I reach out and squeeze his forearm without thinking. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips, and my breath catches at the spark of electricity between us.
”Your family must be proud of what you”ve built.”
”They better be.” A hint of his usual cockiness returns as he shoots me a crooked grin. ”Couldn”t have done it without J”Mario”s business savvy and Jalisa killing it in marketing.”
We lapse into an easy back-and-forth, reminiscing about mutual friends from back in the day and laughing over old inside jokes. For these fleeting moments, it”s like we”ve time-traveled, reconnecting over shared history.
Part of me is tempted to broach the thorny topic of what really drove us apart all those years ago. The arguments, the words we can”t take back, the abandonment when he left for California.
I had found and lost my best friend and soul mate in a matter of two years, only to see his meteoric rise in the brewing world. His face haunted me in magazines and industry reports.
I felt like the dead weight he had to shed to fly, which hurt like hell. He went on to riches, and I returned to work at the only major, non-ranching business in Madison Grove.
I want to ask what happened. To go from love to hate. From spending every waking and sleeping moment together to nothing for ten years.
That shit hurt.
But something stops me from going there—call it self-preservation or just a desire to savor this lighter vibe while it lasts.
”This has been...nice,” I murmur instead, meeting his warm gaze. ”Feels like old times.”
Jermaine holds my stare for a beat too long, something indecipherable flickering in his expression. ”It really does.”
Before I can decipher the sudden tension, he clears his throat. ”Actually, I was hoping to pick your brain a bit more about the local market. See if there are any prime opportunities I should know about now that I”m...settling back home.”
Settling back home?
My pulse kicks up a notch as realization dawns. So he”s not just passing through—he”s staking a claim here in Madison Grove. But to what end?
I keep my tone casual, telegraphing nothing. ”Sure, I”m an open book. Although the competition around here is getting pretty fierce.”
A half-truth, buying me time to figure out his real motives. Jermaine gives me the kind of easy grin that used to make my knees weak.
”Nothing I can”t handle. You know me. I love a challenge.”
The double meaning in his words isn”t lost on me. My gut tells me he”s holding something back, but my curiosity overrules any wariness for now.
The sun is sinking lower on the horizon, bathing the park in a warm, golden glow. Mia appears at my side as if on cue.
”Ready to pack it in, Londyn?”
I start gathering the empty bottles, well aware of Jermaine”s watchful gaze. He steps in to help, fingers brushing mine as he takes the crate from my hands.
”Let me.” His voice is a low rumble, the slightest tremor in those two words.
We work in companionable silence, an easy rhythm falling back into place like muscle memory. Before I know it, Paris Girl is all loaded up, and Mia”s revving the engine.
Jermaine lingers by the open truck window. ”Listen, I was thinking...” He ducks his head, almost sheepish. ”Would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? You know, catch up properly? I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”
My breath stalls in my lungs as a swirl of emotions crashes over me. Excitement, nostalgia, apprehension—it”s all a tangled, heady mix.
I”m tempted to say no, to protect whatever”s left of my battered heart. The wiser part whispers to keep him close, but guard myself. There are too many missing pieces to this puzzle.
”Sure, why not?” The words slip out before I can overthink it. ”Could be fun.”
Jermaine”s answering smile is warm enough to make my insides melt.
For a beat, it just us two, staring into each other”s eyes and the heat spreads through my body. I know I shouldn”t overthink this not when I know he”s just passing through, and he left me once. He”ll certainly do it again.
But what if he”s really back for good? What if…
”Girl, I have got to hear those dirty deets later!” Mia wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
I groan. Well, loudmouth just shattered the moment.
A surprised laugh bubbles up from my chest as the tension breaks. Jermaine shakes his head in mock exasperation, lips twitching with amusement.
”I”ll leave you ladies to it.” He leans in, lips grazing my cheek in the whisper of a kiss. ”Talk soon.”
I watch him saunter off through the side mirror, broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure against the gathering dusk. Only when his silhouette finally disappears do I let out the breath I”ve been holding.
”Earth to Londyn!” Mia”s voice snaps me back to the present. ”Londyn and Jermaine sitting in a tree… S-E-X-X-I-N-G.”
My cheeks flush hot at the lascivious grin on her face. ”Girl, you are a mess. Drive. Damn….”
She cackles, putting the truck in gear as I settle into the worn leather seat beside her.
”What? Just looking out for my bestie”s needs, that”s all.”
I can”t fight my own smile at that, a bubble of cautious optimism expanding in my chest. Maybe this thing with Jermaine will fizzle out before it even starts.
Or maybe, just maybe, it”s the start of something new and wonderful after years of loneliness.
Only time will tell. For now, I”m content to bask in the possibility, ignoring the nagging doubts about Jermaine”s true motivations.
Tonight, I”ll allow myself this little thrill that I have a date with Jermaine Knights.