22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Maddison
“ I can’t believe Irene let us both off on a Friday.” Hazel bounces on the balls of her feet, running a hand through the shiny red locks around her shoulders.
“I can’t believe that I let Jax talk me into this.”
I glance sideways at Hazel, sighing from where I stand next to a booth inside the Cedarwood Valley High School gym. Nodding politely at people walking past, I wonder for the umpteenth time how I let him convince me it was a good idea to enter this year’s Cedarwood Winter Festival as a vendor.
Jax is working today, but thankfully Hazel agreed to help me.
Shifting on my feet, I wipe my sweaty palms across the thighs of my jeans. Then I smooth a hand down the front of my army-green blouse, fixing imaginary wrinkles as I try not to wobble on heeled boots. Next to me, Hazel wears black, ripped jeans with a red, wool sweater. A sharp burst of pain makes me grunt, my head whipping around to send her an exasperated glare when her elbow jabs into my side.
“Stop fidgeting,” she whisper-hisses, her index finger poking me on the shoulder. “You are a confident, intelligent businesswoman.”
I roll my eyes. I’m selling handmade goods at an arts and crafts festival. I would hardly classify myself as a businesswoman.
“Gorgeous! How much for this?” A wavy-haired blonde woman with a baby strapped to her chest points at the circular shelf I just finished this morning. Carved within the circle are three mountaintops, a shelf running through the bottom of each. Each mountaintop is painted white.
“Oh, I—um, that’s…” I shoot Hazel a help me now look. How did I forget to price my own items?
Businesswoman, my ass.
Hazel beams, turning a megawatt smile on the woman as she steps forward and quotes a price off the top of her head.
“I’ll take it! It’ll look perfect in my guest bathroom.” The woman hands me a crumpled wad of cash, and I pocket it with a grateful smile. Hazel helps her carry the new purchase to her vehicle, and I make a mental note to cut her a percentage of my earnings today.
As soon as they are out of sight, I’m grinning ear-to-ear. Sticking a hand in my pocket, I run a finger along the edges of the bills. It’s not the first item I’ve sold since I’ve started creating again, but it still feels surreal that other people think my creations are worth shelling out their hard-earned money.
The lighthearted joy coursing through my veins is intoxicating, and I wish Jax were here to celebrate with me. I want to wrap my arms around him and thank him for believing in me.
Looking around the area that I’ve got set up, I take it all in. Most of my current pieces are a nod to the nearby Cedarwood Peak Mountains. There are solid pieces of wood with mountaintops carved within, clock frames shaped into mountains, and wooden picture frames surrounded by forest. Then there are old, worn furniture pieces that I spent hours transforming into new items. A brown dresser that is now a funky, tie-dye desk. The old, wooden chairs that I repainted into time-out chairs for mothers and teachers. The dusty, sand colored bar stools that I painted pink before dipping the ends of the legs into a gold-colored paint.
“Irene would shit her pants if she knew what you were doing right now.” Hazel snickers as she returns to our booth, a twinkle of amusement lighting up her eyes. I can’t help but laugh with her, even if a part of me is nervous that she’ll find out and be not-so-thrilled.
I nibble on my bottom lip. “It’s not like I’m competing with her business.”
Hazel shrugs. “But you could.”
I stare at her, my eyebrows creasing. “What?”
“You could open your own shop,” she replies.
“No. I could never. I mean, you don’t think…” But hadn’t Jax said something similar?
“Hey! You break it, you buy it. That thing is worth like two months of your allowance, kid!” Hazel points a manicured finger at a young boy with sticky hands, glaring at him when he drops the item back to the ground and rushes off. She turns back to me.
“Of course, I think you could do it.” She sweeps her hands out, gesturing at the people lingering around my booth. Many of them are picking up various pieces, examining the details, and smiling. I’m hit with a wave of sweet nostalgia, memories of weekends spent with my parents doing this exact thing when I was a child. “Do you see this many people at the other booths?”
As if on cue, an older man thrusts a pile of bills at me before ambling off with a clock. I grimace, deciding I probably don’t want to know why the bills are slightly damp. I pocket the cash, discreetly wiping my palms.
“Don’t suppose I get a discount.” The velvety, smooth drawl of Jax’s voice has my heart jumping as I whirl around. And there he stands, hands in his pockets with a soft smile. That warmth I always get in his presence spreads from my chest, through my belly and limbs. When I lick my lips, his eyes snag on the motion. I think I see a pained expression flash across his face, and I wonder if he wishes he could kiss me right now.
“She might be willing to let you work something out,” Hazel croons. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, a nearby snicker making me realize Jax isn’t alone. Paige stands next to him, both of them still in their work uniforms. Balling my hand into a fist, I slug Hazel right in the shoulder. She winces.
“Hazel!” A flush creeps across my cheeks. I haven’t told Hazel, or anyone for that matter, about my arrangement with Jax. Mary and Andrew are the only two people who know, and they only found out by accident. The fewer people who know, the less likely Luke is to find out.
When I meet Jax’s eyes, his lips are turned down. He studies me, giving me a weary look I can’t interpret. A trickle of worry worms its way into my gut. He’s been acting a little off lately. Unusually reserved and quiet, even for him.
“We’re all thinking it,” Hazel says dryly, unapologetic as usual. Paige grins.
Jax slowly ambles around my booth, his long fingers sweeping across the various pieces on display. I swallow when he picks a piece up to examine it, his intense scrutiny making me feel unusually nervous. Then he approaches the table with it, a framed wooden canvas with sprawling mountaintops. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a black wallet.
“You can have it.” I shake my head, pushing his money away.
But he pushes it back in my direction with a frown. “You’ve given me plenty already, Maddie. The sign, the business cards… I can’t keep taking shit from you.”
Paige’s eyes dart back and forth between us, silently watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow.
“I live in your house rent free,” I remind him.
“Let me pay you for your time and skills.” He grits his teeth, scowling when I stubbornly shake my head.
“I’m not taking your money,” I snap. Irritation boils in my stomach.
“Dude,” Paige bites out, rolling her eyes as she snatches the wallet from his hand. Then she grabs the fistful of cash, stuffing it back in and shoving it into his front coat pocket. Jax finally takes his hardened gaze off me, giving her an incredulous look. “When people care about you, they like to do nice things. It makes them feel good. Don’t be an ignorant asswipe.” Paige murmurs something about men and donkeys under her breath before she moves along, examining items set out at the neighboring booth.
There’s a solid three seconds of silence as Jax gawks at her, and I give Hazel a side-ways stare before we burst into giggles.
Jax snorts. “Laugh it up, ladies.” He shakes his head, relaxing as he smiles down at me. My eyes gravitate towards the amused curl of his lips, and the pulse at the base of my neck flutters. God, I am so done for. Even mundane activities feel exciting around him.
Hazel excuses herself, muttering something about the lady’s restroom and too much sweet tea. She doesn’t seem to notice the bubble around the two of us or my goofy grin as I stare into his eyes.
My smile fades when a buzzing vibration alerts me to a text message. Jax frowns as I turn my head, dread making my stomach roll. Shifting on my feet, I wonder if I should flip the phone around so he can’t see the screen. I haven’t told him that Luke has texted me a couple times within the past few days, and I’ve been mostly ignoring him. But when his entire body tenses, a crackle of jealous irritation flashing across his eyes, I know it’s too late.
The preview of the message on my lock screen intensifies that feeling of dread tenfold.
Luke: I miss you Madds. Can we talk?
“I’ll just tell him now isn’t a good time,” I murmur to Jax.
“Talk to him whenever you want. It’s your life.” His unusually curt tone makes me pause, and I steal a quick glance towards him. There’s a palpable tension in the line of his jaw, his shoulders, and his clenched fists.
Maybe later
When I look back up from my phone, Jax’s eyes quickly dart away.
I pocket the device, taking in a deep breath. My fingers gently curl around his elbow, before remembering where we are and pulling away again. “Jax,” I mutter softly, “you have nothing to worry about.”
He grunts, rolling his shoulders before stepping away as another customer approaches me to make a purchase. After the transaction is complete, I give his back a worried expression.
“It’s not like you owe me anything.” The whispered murmur makes me tense. He turns back to face me, a grim look on his face.
“I don’t—what does that mean?”
He shrugs, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “We have an expiration date anyway, don’t we?”
“What has gotten into—” I cut myself off when yet another customer walks up to me, giving the middle-aged woman a polite smile that doesn’t feel completely genuine. My fingers curl into my palms as I continue watching Jax from the corner of my eye.
What is wrong with him today?
When my phone buzzes again from inside my pocket, I want to scream. It’s just like Luke to ruin a perfectly good day, although realistically, I know it’s not his fault. But some petty part of me wants to blame him anyway.
Hazel chooses this moment to return from the restroom, a cheery smile stretching her lips. It fades a little as she takes her place beside me, her eyes darting back and forth between Jax and me like she can sense the simmering tension.
“I’m going home. I’ll see you later.” He doesn’t look at me as he strolls away, my eyes glued to his retreating back. His shoulders are slumped a little, his head tilted towards the ground as he walks. It makes something uncomfortable burn in my chest.
“Did something happen?” Hazel asks. “Because that felt weird just now.”
“It’s nothing.”
Hazel gives me a skeptical look, but I’m grateful when she doesn’t probe me for more information. She greets a customer, pointing out something on one of the furniture pieces. I take a moment to let my eyelids flutter shut and inhale a calming breath. When my eyes open again, my fingers reach into the pocket of my jeans and pull out my cell phone.
I can’t avoid Luke forever. At some point, I think we will both need a discussion—for closure, for peace of mind, for understanding. But sometimes, I wonder how I’m going to look him in the eye knowing that I ended our four-year relationship and jumped straight into his brother’s bed.
It feels like a shitty thing to do. I’m no better than he is.
Luke: I still love you Madds
Shit, shit, shit.
An exasperated groan slips from my throat as I pinch the bridge of my nose. I had been hoping time and distance would help him move on.
But things just got even more complicated.