76. Chapter 76
It was in her hands. Literally. His future, what he’d have or wouldn’t have. If he ever set foot in that part of Ohio again, or if this was another state he’d have to cross off his map.
Jason shook out his arms. He needed to hit things. Hit Stu. Break the asshole’s pointy nose. Break his pointy face. Break him down piece by piece until no part of him could touch any part of Theresa tonight or ever.
He looked at Smitty’s door, shut tight and emanating Van Halen, then at Stu’s Trans Am and Theresa’s hatchback, parked side by side. Was he really going to lose her to a gearhead like Stu?
Better than a no-good chrome cowboy who blew his chance.
Van Halen and the voices inside Smitty’s were suddenly louder and she was in front of him. Out of breath as if she’d sprinted through the bar, Theresa shook the torn envelope.
“What is this?” she demanded. The door closed behind her, leaving them alone under the flashing Smitty’s sign. “What is this?”
“It’s yours.”
She stomped over. Stomped. Of course, she’d be pissed he bought her a house.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You said you wanted it.”
“You don’t—” She pushed the paperwork into his chest. “I told you I don’t want your money.”
“It’s not money I’m offering.”
“People don’t just go around buying other people houses, Jason.”
“I know.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“Why do you think?” he asked. Saying it out loud was scarier than nonrefundable real estate.
She let her arm fall, the papers in her fist. “You can’t do this.”
“Sure I can.”
“You left.”
“And I came back.”
“Lose your other job already?”
“I never made it there.”
“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone a month, and I’m supposed to believe you?”
“It takes a long time to buy a house, and this was an estate that was expedited.” Expedited. Whitlock’s word. He hoped it impressed her. “I had to get my lawyer involved.”
“Your lawyer?”
“I came back as fast as I could.”
“You’re insane.”
“Yep.” He nodded. Buying someone he’d only known for five days a house was nothing if not insane. So was sitting bloody in a hospital thinking about the woman two thousand miles away he tried to leave behind. “I believe you called it butt-crazy.”
Her own words tripped her up. “Wh—where have you been?”
“I got held up by a woman named Linda.”
“Of course you did.” She rolled her eyes again.
“She was on the side of the road,” he said quickly. “She’d been hit by a car. I helped her husband get her to the hospital. I only found out a few days ago that she survived.”
Some of the fire left her face as she stared at him.
“That stuffy lawyer helped me find you a house. It’s the one you said you wanted—two-story, by a pond, on five acres, between Dayton and Troy.”
“Jason. Just…” She held up a hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Live in it. If you want to. If you hate it, sell it. It’s yours to do whatever you want with.”
“Live in it. You mean, live in it with you?”
He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, as if he wasn’t hoping she’d take him back.
“This is crazy. You’re having a midlife crisis or something.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“You live hard. You’re halfway there already.”
He chuckled. “You’re probably right.”
She held up the tiny box clutched in her left hand. “What is this? Huh? What is this? You can’t just come back and think I’ll marry you.”
He tipped his head. “Who said anything about marriage?”
“This is a ring box, Jason. You really have lost your mind if you think you can just waltz back in here with some story about a dying woman and the deed for a house and think it changes anything.”
“Oh, of course not. Why would any of this change anything?” he thundered.
“You know what? The house doesn’t matter.
What’s in the box doesn’t matter. Me leaving doesn’t matter.
What matters is I came back. I wanted to buy you a house and I have millions of dollars and no one to spend it on, so I bought you a goddamn house.
You can tear up those papers and throw them in my face and you’ll still own a big fancy house that’ll sit empty because you’re too stubborn to admit that you missed me and you were happy to see me when I walked into that bar, and you’re happy to see me losing my mind right now because you know that it means… ”
He trailed off before the clincher.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
Fuck it.
“That I’m in love with you, all right?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “You’re in love with me?” she managed to say.
“I am.”
“I’m—I’m not going to marry you.”
“Will you just open the box? I’m not asking you to marry me.”
With shaking hands, she lifted the lid and saw the ring inside. The key ring.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Keys to your house. And car. I found you an old Country Squire wagon. It’s a piece of junk, but it’s what you said you had when you were a kid. Or close enough.”
“You bought me a Squire?”
“It’s in real bad shape. We can fix it up—”
She kissed him. She finally kissed him. It was hard and fast and everything he’d been waiting for.
It ended before he got his arms around her.
“You are such an idiot,” she said.
“I’m an idiot? Stu? Really?”
She tossed the keys at him. He caught them and took ahold of her waist.
“You could do so much better,” he said.
Jason slipped his hand around her back, under the crop top he was going to pull over her head as soon as they were alone.
“Really?” she said. “This feels like I’m doing so much worse.”
Their lips met and it was worth every blistering mile to get back here.
Worth giving up the other life on offer and the hundreds of thousands of dollars he’d spent making Theresa’s dream come true to feel her melt into his arms and fill his nose with sweet magnolia.
He fucking loved this woman. “Sister Christian” on the jukebox, muffled through the wall, played the soundtrack of the moment she finally gave in.
“We should probably go in there and tell Stuart it’s over,” he said, taking a breath. “Have him get his shit out of your house.”
“He doesn’t have anything at my house.”
“I found his watch.”
“His watch?” She frowned.
“On the table next to your bed. Don’t tell me there’s someone else.”
She fought against a smile and lost.
“What?” Jason asked.
“Did you go to my house, Jason?” She smirked.
“I was looking for you.”
“I…” She laughed. “I don’t live there anymore.”
“What?”
“I got a place closer to my new job,” she said. “I don’t live in Springfield.”
She smothered whatever he was going to say with her lips. Then she pulled away, suddenly serious. “I’m still not going to marry you.”
“I still haven’t asked you, honey,” he said.
“You’re such an idiot,” she said, and kissed him again.