Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
JACE
“Erin is already pissed off at me.”
Setting my fork down on my plate, I chew the rest of my food before questioning Harrison. We met with the lawyer earlier today to get everything in order before the closing. We have a little under two weeks until then, so Harrison and I have been deep in planning mode for this project.
And it’s been three days since I last saw Willow.
Three days since she was in my truck… and since I kissed her.
“Why do you say that?” I ask Harrison as my eyebrows tug together.
He lifts his glass to his lips, taking a slow draw of the liquid before setting it down. “She wasn’t happy with my last job and with how much time it took up in the evenings. She’s less than thrilled about me dedicating even more time to something new.”
I suck in a deep breath, then blow it out. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know things weren’t going well between the two of you again.”
Since Liam was born, they’ve had issues on and off.
When Liam turned two, she gave Harrison an ultimatum.
Either they get married so she knows he’s committed to her or they were done.
Harrison gave her what she wanted for the sake of their son.
He wanted him to have a chance at growing up with his parents together.
Harrison purses his lips and shakes his head.
“Yeah, it hasn’t been good for a while. I just don’t understand how she expects me to make money if I’m not working.
” He pauses, running his tongue across his top teeth.
“I’m done working for other people. I want to work my ass off now so I don’t have to later on in life. ”
“She acts like I’m never there. Like I’m so far detached from the two of them, when everything I’m doing is for them.”
A frown tugs my lips downward. “I know.” I pause, swallowing roughly. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. We can put it on hold and revisit the idea down the road.”
Harrison sits up straighter in his seat as he levels his gaze with mine. “No.” The muscle in his jaw tightens, his blue eyes latching onto mine. “I need this.”
If their relationship is already circling the drain, and Erin is unhappy about this entire situation, how is it going to fix them?
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he says firmly, without any hesitation. “I can’t keep working a job that’s draining me. If I have to spend hours pouring myself into something, I need it to be something I’m passionate about. If Erin can’t see that, then there was no chance of changing her mind from the start.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I nod in understanding. Harrison has expressed feeling so unfulfilled before. If this is what he needs, I can’t fault him for that—not when I know there’s nothing else I’d rather do, too, now that playing hockey is no longer an option.
“Okay.” I lift my drink, taking another sip. “I just don’t want you to make the wrong choice here. I don’t want this to be something you regret too.”
Harrison snorts. “My life is already a shit storm. The only way to get to the other side is to go through it.” He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head before running a hand through his dirty blond hair.
“I have plenty of regrets but I know this won’t be one.
” He sighs, his expression softening to something that resembles vulnerability.
“What is meant to be will always be, and sometimes you just have to stop fighting against the inevitable.”
Harrison and I finish dinner before exiting the diner together. He gives me a parting wave before heading in the opposite direction to his SUV.
Unbuttoning the sleeves of my dress shirt, I carefully roll them up my forearms before shoving my hand into the front pocket of my slacks for my keys.
I glance to either side of the empty street out of habit as I step off the curb.
My feet hit the street, but I pause, my attention captured by lights on in a storefront down the row of shops.
Without seeing the sign out front, I know exactly which one it is.
Willow’s store.
It’s late and I should get home. I have to be up early since Harrison and I are meeting with the roofers in the morning.
Something tugs on me, like there’s a string tethered to the center of my chest. Slipping my keys back into my pocket, I walk away from my truck. In just a couple of strides, I’m breaking out into a jog to cross the street, heading in her direction.
I’m slightly breathless as I reach the front of the store and pause outside. There she is, just past the glass. She’s standing on the far side of the store where there are now wooden shelving units lining the walls. Guilt strikes my chest. She must have put them together without me.
Her black leggings hug her curves and she lifts up onto her tip toes, her cropped sweater lifting, showing a sliver of her thin abdomen as she slides a bottle of syrup onto the shelf. My throat bobs as I swallow hard and rake my hand through my hair.
You can still walk away, Jace.
You should walk away.
My heart pounds harder in my chest as I let my hand fall away from my tousled hair.
Willow isn’t expecting me tonight, so there’s no reason for me to be here.
It’s not too late. We can just pretend that kiss never happened and continue on in life.
Then I won’t have to worry about telling her brother about it or the fact that I might fail her, just like I have failed everyone else.
My fingers flex, the muscles in my palm twitching. Willow lifts up on her toes again, reaching as high as she can to push one of the bottles back. She pushes it too hard and it topples over, knocking another one backward.
Fuck it.
Startling her is not my goal, but when I open the door and the bell dings, Willow gasps.
Her eyes are wide as she drops down onto her flat feet, but as she does, her hand catches on a row of bottles.
One falls down onto the floor, the glass immediately shattering around her as two others break on the shelf.
“Oh shit!” she exclaims, her face scrunching up as her eyelids flutter shut and she sighs deeply. “Well, this isn’t ideal.”
Fuck me.
“Don’t move,” I tell her as I quickly close the distance between us. I stop two feet away from her to assess the glass and syrup all along the floor. “I don’t want you to step on any glass.”
She bends her knees, like she’s about to crouch down. “I’m fine, Ja—” she starts, shaking her head as her eyes meet mine, but I interject before she gets my name out.
“No, don’t.”
Her eyebrows tug together as she freezes in place. Straightening her legs, she slowly stands upright again.
“I’ll clean it up.”
Her throat bobs and, for once, she doesn’t argue. “Okay.”
Leaving her standing in the mess, I hurry over to the supply closet. I find a dust pan and a broom and I pull them out, along with a roll of paper towels and cleaner from the counter on the way back to her. Much to my surprise, she’s still standing in the same spot.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I say softly as I stop in front of her.
She shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. I should have locked the door if I didn’t want visitors.”
My eyes linger on her for a moment before I glance back down at the mess. Does she really not want me here tonight? Should I just clean up and leave?
I position the broom on the floor, and attempt to sweep the pieces of glass into a pile. The syrup causes the bristles to stick and while it does collect the glass, it just makes even more of a sticky mess, spreading the liquid across the floor.
Willow lets out a soft breath and as my gaze flicks to hers, I catch her biting back her grin. “You’re only making more of a mess.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
She shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe get down on your knees and try picking up the pieces instead?”
Warmth rushes to the pit of my stomach as a pink tint creeps across her cheeks. I lift a brow and the corners of my mouth twitch. “You’d love to see me on my knees, wouldn’t you?”
Her lips part slightly at my brazenness before lifting into a smirk. “I wouldn’t be against it.”
Holy shit.
I lick my lips, imagining what I’d do to her on my knees, and she dips her head subtly towards the ground.
Goddamn her. Bending my knees, I slowly lower myself onto the ground, my eyes never leaving hers.
Her lips are still parted and her cheeks are flushed as a shallow breath escapes her.
The syrup coats the knees of my pants but I ignore it as I retrieve all the glass from the floor.
I can feel Willow’s eyes tracking every movement.
Dropping them all into the pan, I do one last scan, making sure there aren’t any remaining shards and rise to my feet. Willow’s less than a foot away and she drops her gaze down to my pants, Her lips twitch then pull to the left, trying to hold in a smile.
“You have some syrup on you.”
Taking a step closer to her, I extend my hand that’s covered in the syrup and brush it against the waist section of her sweater.
My fingers graze the sliver of skin beneath her shirt, just above the waistband of her pants, leaving a trail of saccharine, stickiness.
She inhales sharply, her eyes flashing back to mine.
“So do you,” I say, my voice dropping low, my tone gravelly.
She narrows her eyes at me. “That’s not fair, Miller.”
“Sure it is,” I say, taking another step toward her. “Although, I never claimed to be fair.”
She grips the bottom hem of her sweater, lifting it up and over her head before tossing it to the ground.
My eyes flick down to her bare abdomen, then up and over her black sports bra before trailing up to her face.
She tips her head back, her chest rising and falling faster now as she levels her gaze with mine.
A fire burns brightly in her irises as she closes the remaining distance between us, grabbing the front of my dress shirt.
“Neither did I.”