Chapter 18 #2
“You’ve got yourself tangled up in something ugly, Rhett. Word around town is, Pastor Hilbert’s not happy you’ve been poking around.”
“You two still talking?”
I could never prove it back then, but I always suspected that my ex and the pastor were more than friendly with each other.
Her eyes flick to mine in defense. “I’m not here about him. I came to warn you.”
I study her for a beat, trying to decide whether she’s playing me or actually concerned. “Warn me about what?”
She swallows, her bravado faltering. “He knows how to cover his tracks, Rhett. Better than anyone. And he also knows how to make it look like he’s the innocent party.”
“So he’s blackmailing people. Is that what he did to you? Is that why you’re here today?”
Her throat bobs. “I’m here because I should have never left you.”
“Jesus Christ, Tilly. Cut it out. We were done a long time ago.”
“Was it because of her?” Her eyes hold mine. “The whore you’ve got hidden away at your place? I know you used to watch her when she was dating Caleb.” Her breath hitches. “Have you…have you been fucking her this entire time?”
I stand slowly. “Careful, Tilly. Those kinds of accusations can get a person killed around here.”
And I’m not talking about myself.
She’s not listening to me. “Maybe Pastor Hilbert was right. Maybe that’s what this is all about.”
“If Chester said that, he’s signing his own death warrant. The same goes for you. I’d suggest keeping my name and Juniper’s out of your mouth.”
Tilly’s eyes widen just a little, but she recovers fast, pushing up from her seat. “Don’t threaten me. Just remember that I always get what I want.”
With those words, she walks out of my office.
“Fuck,” I mutter to the empty room.
If there’s one thing I know about that woman is that she doesn’t stop once she puts her mind to something. And if she wants me, she’ll do whatever it takes to get me. Even going as far as hurting Juniper.
I grab my phone and call Sawyer. “Keep an eye on Tilly.”
“Will do.”
Juniper’s standing at the window in the living room that overlooks the back part of my land. Her arms are wrapped around herself, like she’s cold.
“You were gone a long time.” Her voice is tight, and she doesn’t turn to face me.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
“Don’t call me that,” she says, spinning to face me. “Tilly came by. Told me everything.”
That fucking woman didn’t waste a second to get out here. I’m sure if I were to lift my phone right now I’d see a text from Sawyer warning me.
I move toward Juniper slowly. “Tell me what she said.”
Juniper’s arms stay locked around herself, her knuckles white where they grip opposite elbows. “I don’t need to repeat it. I’m sure you already know. You were with her a long time, Rhett.”
“I was.” I keep my voice low, steady. “But I’m not anymore.”
She laughs. “Yeah? Then why does she still think she has a claim on you? Why did she show up here like she was checking on her property?”
I move closer, but she backs up a step.
“She told me about how you used to watch me when I was with Caleb.”
I sigh. “You know I did.”
“Were you always waiting in the wings?” she snaps. “Did you love the idea of me more than the real thing? Or am I just the next thing after her? Because that’s what Tilly seems to think.”
I’ve never seen her like this—raw, jealous, aching in a way that cuts deeper than anger. It’s not just what Tilly said. It’s the fear underneath that she doesn’t want to name. That I might not choose her. That she’s temporary.
I cross the space between us and grip her face gently in both hands.
“You listen to me. Tilly is noise. Static. A bitter echo of a life I don’t want anymore.
But you…” I brush my thumb along her cheek, where her skin is warm with frustration and unshed tears.
“You are the one I’d burn it all down for. ”
She doesn’t flinch, but her breath stutters. “She said you’d never stop loving her.”
I lean in, my voice barely a whisper now. “Then she doesn’t know me anymore. Because I can’t even remember what it felt like to love anyone before you.”
Her lips part slightly, her eyes searching mine for a lie. I let her see all of it—my want, my devotion, my fear of losing her.
“Juniper Quinn,” I murmur against her temple, “I’ve watched for longer than I should. Not because I was biding my time. But because I knew you were never meant for anyone else but me. And maybe I didn’t deserve you back then. But I swear to God, I’m gonna spend every second proving I do now.”
Her eyes brim with tears, but she blinks them back, stubborn as ever. “Then show me. Make me believe you’re mine, and not hers.”
I kiss her hard and slow, like a promise sealed with the weight of years lost and a future clawed back.
And when we break apart, I say it again, because she needs to hear it until it roots inside her: “You’re not the second choice, Juniper. You’re the only one who was ever real.”
Juniper’s lips are still parted when I press forward again. My mouth claims hers, not to convince her but to show her. She makes a sound low in her throat, like she’s mad at herself for wanting me this bad, and it just spurs me on.
I walk her backward until her spine meets the wall, my hands braced on either side of her head. I kiss her like I’m starving because I am.
Her fingers clutch my shirt, yanking me closer. I reach down, grab her thighs, and lift. She wraps around me like she was made to fit there, and I carry her to the couch, laying her down like she’s precious but kissing her like she’s the sin I plan to commit over and over again.
She pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot and ragged against my lips. “You think you can fix everything with your hands and big dick?”
I drag my mouth down her neck, let my teeth graze that tender spot below her ear. “No,” I whisper against her skin. “But it’s a good place to start.”
My hand slips under her shirt, fingers splaying across her ribs. Her body arches into mine, wordless and wanting. She’s soft everywhere I’m hard, and when I finally get her shirt off and toss it to the floor, I take a second to look at her.
She tries to cover herself, self-conscious maybe, or still mad, but I won’t have it. I catch her wrists gently and pin them above her head, my body pressed to hers.
“You don’t get to hide from me, sweetheart. You want to know what I feel for you? Feel this.”
I let go of her wrists and drag my hand down the curve of her hip, slow, reverent, like I’m memorizing her shape. Every hitch in her breath, every twitch of muscle beneath my palm—it burns into me. I kiss her again, deeper this time, and she meets me with the kind of hunger that undoes a man.
There’s no rush. No desperate tearing of clothes or clumsy scrambling. It’s slow and purposeful, like we both know we’ve waited too damn long and we’re going to savor every inch, every gasp, every tremble.
By the time we come together, skin to skin, there’s nothing left of the jealousy. Nothing left of Tilly or Caleb or the ghosts of the past.
Just me. Just her. Just this moment.
And when her nails dig into my back and she moans my name like a prayer, I bury my face in her neck and let the emotion hit hot, raw, and choking.
I don’t say I love her.
But I damn sure show her.