8
“Lexie, are you out there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you come here, please?”
Lexie pushed back from her desk and made her way toward her boss’s office, stopping short in the doorway.
“Take a seat,” Julie said, and Lexie sank slowly into one of the cushioned chairs on the nearside of the desk, trying to hide her nerves. Julie was an amazing boss, the kind interns everywhere hoped to have, but she was also an uncompromising editor with a vicious red pen. Lexie’s work often looked like it had been bled upon by a small animal, a sight she had a hard time getting used to.
“I realized recently that you and I have never taken time to chat about your career goals,” Julie explained before taking a sip from her cup of coffee. “What are your plans after graduation?”
Lexie took a slow breath, biting the inside of her lip. She hated this question, mostly because she never had a good answer. If she did what everyone else wanted, she’d be hosting an endless number of charity dinners. If she did what she wanted... Well, she didn’t know what that was yet.
“My father has mentioned a job opening in the research office at Vanderbilt. I would be drafting information about new drugs and protocols, describing them in layman’s terms,” she said.
“I see. And is that something you feel passionate about?” Julie asked, her head cocked as she watched Lexie intently.
Lexie got the feeling she didn’t miss much.
“Well, a job is a job, right? Plus, you don’t know my dad. I think my options are limited.” Lexie tried to keep her tone light, though the weight of her words pressed down on her chest like an anvil.
Julie took another sip of her drink, studying Lexie carefully over the brim of her cup before slowly setting it down on the desktop between them. She leaned forward, her forearms on the table, and gave Lexie a kind smile.
“I know how daunting it is to cross that graduation stage and suddenly feel like you’re floating in space without a tether. The problem, especially for talented students like you, is that there are almost too many options. And there are always options, Lexie, even if other people try to make us feel like there aren’t. You’re the one who has to live your life; only you can decide which path you take,” Julie said, settling back in her chair as if she hadn’t just dropped a truth bomb the size of Texas right in Lexie’s lap.
“When you find your passion, it shows in your work. Take this, for example,” she added, shuffling through a stack of papers before pulling out a few pages that had been paper-clipped together. Lexie’s stomach flipped when she noticed her name on the top sheet.
Julie cleared her throat and began to read aloud.
“Though his work is often unseen and unpraised, Henry Wallace says he takes pride in each and every brick he lays. He has poured his blood, sweat and tears into hospitals, daycares, office buildings and museums, leaving his fingerprints across West Tennessee in a way most people can only imagine. Wallace and his team hide in plain sight, making our most familiar landmarks what they are today with very little acknowledgment or thanks—changing the landscape so many of us call home, one brick at a time.”
Lexie’s breath hitched as Julie laid the pages on her desk without a word, smoothing them out with her hands.
“Where did this come from?” Julie asked, and Lexie took a long breath. This wasn’t an article she’d been asked to write, and she wasn’t sure if her boss appreciated her intern going rogue.
“Well, I was working on the story you wanted about the new research center, and I ran into Mr. Wallace while he was mixing mortar. I asked what he was doing, and I found out he’s been involved in more than 150 building projects in this area. He’s a CVSU graduate, and since our magazine is about alumni, I thought it would be worth a shot to tell his story, too.”
“But the building’s architect is also an alum. Why not focus on him?” Julie asked, her piercing eyes locked on Lexie’s.
“Well, honestly, everyone knows his name,” Lexie said, “but nobody talks about the men who lay the bricks, and without the bricks, the building wouldn’t be finished. It wouldn’t be as strong or as beautiful. So, I thought it would be different to take a look at the ‘little people’—the ones who don’t get the same recognition as the guys on top.”
Lexie clamped her mouth shut, forcing herself to stop babbling. She wove her fingers together in her lap and waited. Interns wrote the filler material for the magazine but never the feature articles. It was a huge presumption to have submitted an article when she hadn’t been asked.
Julie regarded her in silence for a few moments longer, and Lexie started to squirm.
“Lexie, this isn’t work I would expect from an intern,” Julie said, and Lexie’s heart plummeted. The Henry Wallace piece was the best story she’d ever written. If that still wasn’t good enough, then...
“This is next-level writing. This kind of storytelling is your passion,” Julie continued, a proud smile stretching across her face. “You’ve taken someone we honestly would have overlooked and made him the star of the show. You made us connect with him on a fundamental level. If you keep up this kind of work, they’ll be giving you my job in May.”
Lexie felt tears of relief flood her eyes, and she took a shaky breath.
“You really think so?”
“About my job? They can try, but I’ll warn you, I’m not going anywhere without a fight,” Julie said, a twinkle in her eye. “But yes, I truly believe the human-interest side of reporting is a path you should consider long-term. There are plenty of places for a writer with your talent to land—places that will let you find the soul of your stories in a way medical research might not.”
Lexie felt something loosen in her chest, like maybe her future wasn’t as tied down as she’d always thought.
“Do you think you might use it?” she asked, realizing her biggest question had never been answered.
Julie’s eyes warmed as she responded. “Lexie, we’re not only going to use it, we’re going to put Henry Wallace on the cover.”
Lexie’s face split open in an uncontainable grin. Her name would appear on the cover of the university magazine! No other intern could say that. Not one.
“Congratulations, dear. I’m proud of you,” Julie said, pushing up to stand. Lexie hurried to her feet, still beaming, and shook her boss’s outstretched hand. “I’ll see you at the donor dinner tonight, yes? You and Jake will man the door,” Julie added.
The wild cartwheels Lexie was turning in her mind came to a screeching halt.
Jake.
She wanted to run and tell Jake. She wanted to throw herself at him and scream and feel his arms around her while he told her he’d expected nothing less. Something in her chest wobbled, and Lexie stifled the urge to rub her hand over her sternum.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, voicing the words without really hearing them.
She’d successfully avoided Jake in the three days since the bell tower. Or, maybe he’d successfully avoided her. But either way, that would end tonight.
Lexie made her way back to her desk and reached absentmindedly for her cell phone. A single text message from Colt lit up the screen, reminding her about helping his mother with a charity event she was planning for next month. Lexie’s finger hovered over the message, her big news begging to be shared, but after a moment, she slid her phone back into her pocket, the message unanswered. She wouldn’t tell Colt just yet. She would keep her victory safe for a while longer, tucked close to her heart where no one could sully it.
The spacious alumni ballroom was dressed to impress, as were the guests within it. Precious stones glittered from delicate fingers, wrists and ears; cufflinks caught the light; and real glassware had been polished to perfection, waiting in precisely placed settings on every table. A string quartet played softly in a far alcove, and members of the catering staff—students desperate for overtime work—drifted through the crowd in pressed blacks and whites, balancing towering trays of hors d’oeuvres at carefully practiced angles.
Lexie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she worked the door, directing each new arrival toward where Jake stood behind a tripod. She kept waiting for him to look at her, but he’d barely acknowledged her since she arrived. Lexie could feel her skin tingle as if his attention were a physical craving she needed to satisfy.
All because of a cheap bottle of shampoo.
It was such a stupid thing, so small that she wondered if she were making a mountain out of a molehill. She’d been using the bottle for weeks without a second thought, but now... now it was all she could think about.
The label called it “green apple orchard.”
“You deserve someone who notices when you change shampoo because your hair doesn’t smell like strawberries anymore.”
Strawberry. That had always been her go-to favorite... until the day she’d run out.
Had Jake noticed? Is that what he’d meant when he’d said—
A loud tinkling sound jerked Lexie’s mind back to the room as the director of donor relations stepped up to the podium, clinking a fork against an empty glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for joining us today. If you would please take your seats, dinner will be served after a few words from our chancellor,” he said, gesturing graciously toward the empty tables around the room.
As guests found their places and settled in, Lexie took up a post near the back wall where she could survey the crowd and have a clear view of Chancellor Carmike as he made his remarks. The lights came down, and a hush fell over the room, broken only by the hurried click of the hallway door as it admitted a last-minute arrival. Lexie watched the movement as a single gentleman was escorted to an empty chair a few tables away, but she barely got a glimpse before he was hidden from view.
“You’re in my spot,” a voice whispered from over her shoulder, disrupting her train of thought. Jake’s low rumble made goose bumps appear along the back of Lexie’s neck, and her stomach turned over.
“Your spot? I was here first,” she whispered, mindful of the crowd.
“Nope, this is my spot. I scouted it earlier. You’ll have to pick somewhere else,” he said, opening the legs of his tripod.
“Well, I’m not moving, so you’ll have to make do,” Lexie answered. She tried to smother the smile that wanted to sneak across her face, but she was only partially successful.
Instead of leaving, Jake positioned his camera directly over her shoulder, making a point of trying to occupy the same physical space as Lexie. It was ridiculous, but nobody was watching. All eyes were on Chancellor Carmike as he began to speak, and Lexie fought to keep hers there as well.
It was harder than it sounded, since she could almost feel Jake breathing down her neck. He was right there, and try as she might, Lexie couldn’t absorb a word of the chancellor’s remarks. Instead, she listened to the rhythmic click of the camera shutter as Jake worked silently in the darkness, and she tried not to think about that same sound coming from the bell tower and all the words that had followed it.
“I heard about your cover story. Congratulations,” he said suddenly, his hushed voice disappearing into the shell of her ear. “I’ll try not to say ‘I told you so.’”
Lexie was glad now for the darkness that covered the heat she felt spreading across her cheekbones.
“Thanks,” she said, turning slightly. She caught a glimpse of his profile at the edge of her peripheral vision. “Will they use any of your photos?”
“Some of them.”
“Good,” she whispered, unable to say more. It felt like her throat was too tight for words. The opening speech ended, and a trio of violinists took the stage while dinner was served, but Lexie barely noticed. Instead, she stood motionless, acutely aware of the inches that separated her from Jake.
She needed to know for sure if she was right. Lots of girls used strawberry-scented shampoo, and lots of girls bounced when they were excited. It was probably just a coincidence; he could have been talking about almost anyone.
But the other thing... that had been oddly specific.
Lexie leaned back slowly, a millimeter at a time, until the back of her shoulder touched the side of his arm.
“Jake?” she whispered, turning her face toward him but keeping her eyes on the stage. If she was wrong, if she was completely overthinking this, she didn’t think she could stand to see the truth on his face.
“Yeah?” he answered, so close she could feel heat radiating from beneath his navy dress shirt.
“Can I see your phone?”
“Mine?”
His confusion was palpable, but Lexie nodded. “Yeah.”
She felt him shift as he reached into the pocket of his slacks, and she saw a dim flash of light as he flicked the screen on and entered his password without question. Lexie instantly thought about the last time she’d asked to see Colt’s phone. He’d acted like she wanted nuclear launch codes. Now, she looked down almost reverently as Jake passed the device to her, recognizing this exchange for what it was—an act of trust. She could feel him watching silently as she flipped through his apps, but he made no move to stop her from seeing anything she wanted.
It was a freeing and powerful feeling.
She found his music library, opened it and scrolled through an artist list that was more eclectic than she’d expected. But finally, near the bottom, Lexie found something that made her stop. Hiding in plain sight beneath a collection of Van Halen’s greatest hits was her favorite album of Vivaldi concertos, the same ones she often played when she needed to decompress.
“Someone who knows you play classical music when you’re stressed and would keep your favorite tracks on his phone, just in case you ever need them.”
If she hadn’t been waiting for it, Lexie would have missed the sharp inhale from over her shoulder that told her Jake knew what she was looking at and why.
The trio on stage finished, and polite applause broke out as the musicians rose to their feet.
“Thank you,” she managed, handing Jake’s phone back to him. She chanced a glance up into his face. The stage lights reflected in his eyes as he looked directly at her like she was the only person in the room, and a feeling of enormous relief warmed her from the inside out.
“Maybe you’re not looking in the right places.”
As if he’d read her mind, Lexie felt Jake’s knuckles brush hesitantly along the back of her arm in silent confirmation, and the hope in his eyes was almost overwhelming. She had to remind herself to breathe.
With a sharp squeal of the microphone, Chancellor Carmike reclaimed the podium and began to announce the winners of the annual donor awards, and Jake yanked his attention back to the stage. Lexie cleared her throat and shifted on her heels, her body flush with adrenaline.
“I need water,” she mumbled, not sure if Jake could hear, before carefully stepping away from his tripod and blazing a trail toward the rear catering door. Safely in the hall, she leaned against the wall and filled her lungs with cool air, desperately trying to clear her head. Whatever this was with Jake didn’t feel like just a crush anymore. It didn’t feel like he’d given up after all. It felt like—
“Would you like to explain what’s going on?”
An unexpected voice made Lexie jump, and her eyes flew open to find Colt looming over her, the lines of his face sharp and angry.
“Where did you come from?” she blurted, taken completely by surprise.
“About three tables away from where you’ve been embarrassing yourself for the last half hour,” he said, his voice almost a snarl as he glared down at her. Even in her heels, he was still half a foot taller, and he was using every inch to his advantage. “I got stuck in traffic, which apparently gave you permission to act like a dog in heat.”
Shock and anger flooded Lexie’s system, and the sound of her hand against his cheek was as much a surprise to her as it was to him. The smack echoed off the slick tile of the empty hallway, and Colt’s face quickly cycled through a series of reactions, starting with disbelief and ending in purple-tinged outrage. She didn’t have time to process what she’d done before his hand was on her, gripping her upper arm with a crushing force.
“Let go!” she demanded, trying to yank her arm from his hold, but Colt ignored her efforts entirely, steering them both down the hall with single-minded focus. “Let go, or I’ll scream,” she heard herself say, though it was like listening to someone else—someone with more courage than she usually possessed.
Colt stopped suddenly, letting her stumble.
“You do, and you’ll regret it. I promise you that,” he hissed, his teeth clenched tight. The look in his eyes made Lexie’s blood run cold. He’d been angry with her plenty of times before, but never quite like this.
Another yank on her arm made her yelp, but she clamped her lips together and focused on keeping her feet underneath her as he kept going, all but dragging her behind him. She knew she should scream anyway. She should make sure everyone in the banquet hall could hear her. But then somebody would come, and he’d make it look like this was somehow her fault. He’d humiliate her in front of her boss, in front of the chancellor, in front of Jake...
Her bravado leached away as she realized what Jake would think if he saw her like this. Jake, who seemed to think so much of her, who seemed to care. He’d see how damaged she really was.
“Do you have”—Colt tested the handle of a closed door and found it locked—“any idea”—he turned a corner and rattled the knob of a second room, cursing when it wouldn’t budge—“how much trouble you are?”
The third door finally opened, and he exhaled sharply, shoving Lexie inside ahead of him. She caught herself against the edge of a conference table and turned quickly, scrambling past several rolling chairs in an effort to put distance between them.
“I’m working. This is my job,” she said, trying to find the confidence she’d felt earlier, but instead, she heard the waver in her voice as she backed away.
“Really? Fooling around in dark corners is part of your job? I think you’d probably earn more if you gave some old geezer a lap dance.”
Lexie’s mouth fell open. “I was hardly—”
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to watch my girlfriend rub up against some guy not twenty feet away and disgrace herself in front of a hundred people?”
And just like that, something inside Lexie snapped.
“Excuse me?” she shouted, no longer bothering to keep her voice down. “What about the way you undress women with your eyes, slipping tips into their blouses like you don’t think I can see you? What about the underwear in your car, Colt? Who do those belong to?”
There was a crash as he shoved a chair out of his way, sending it toppling.
“How dare you go through my car!” he raged, rounding the head of the long conference table and advancing on her.
“That’s what you’re upset about? Not the fact that I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar? Not the fact that your word means nothing?” Lexie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry. Let the entire faculty come in right now and hear the whole sordid story. She didn’t care anymore. “Real men don’t roll around in backseats with women who can’t even be bothered to put their underwear back on when they leave!” she spat. “Could you not find anyone classier, or did they all turn you down?”
She’d barely said the words before her cheekbone smashed against the tabletop in a blinding flash of pain. Colt reared up behind her, both her wrists in his hands as he twisted them toward her shoulder blades.
“That,” he panted, “was too far.”
Lexie tried to throw him off, but he was bigger and broader and stronger in every possible way. Every motion tore at her shoulders as the edge of the table bit into her hips, and she fought to catch her breath.
“You think you can flaunt what’s mine, make me a laughingstock in front of the whole county, and then come in here and disrespect me like that? I am the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. Nobody else is going to put up with your endless issues the way I have all these years! Your own father can’t stand to be in the same room as you for more than five minutes!”
“Colt, stop!” Lexie pleaded as his weight pressed down on her. Her tears pooled on the table beneath her cheek, and she hated them almost as much as she hated the man causing them. Colt continued pouring his words out like gasoline on a fire, but Lexie only caught the highlights.
Forgettable . . .
Disappointing . . .
Worthless . . .
“Hey!”
A voice sounded from the hall, followed quickly by the crashing of the door against the wall, and Lexie felt both relief and shame wash over her. Of course, of all the people in the building, it would have to be him.
“Let her go!”
Colt’s grip disappeared, easing the fire in her shoulders. Lexie heard Jake’s voice again, loud and angry, followed by the smack of skin against skin. There was another loud crash and then a blur of motion as Colt darted toward the door. Lexie scrambled back against the wall and sank to the floor with her knees pulled against her chest, making herself as small as possible.
“Lex! Are you okay?”
Jake dropped to his knees in front of her, and his cool fingers traced the edges of her face. A sharp sting cut across her cheek, making her gasp.
“Stay here.”
The growl that came from his throat was completely foreign, as was the anger on his face, and Lexie instinctively clamped her hand over his arm as he started to stand.
“Let him go,” she whispered, wincing as every motion made her shoulders ache.
“But he—”
“Please, Jake!”
Jake’s attention snapped toward where Colt’s heavy footsteps were fading down the hall, and Lexie saw the conflict raging on his face. But the fury in his eyes melted as they traveled over her again, taking in all the details she knew she couldn’t hide.
“Okay. Okay, Lex. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, cupping his hand under the good side of her face. He settled next to her with his back against the wall and scooped her into his lap. “I’m sorry I took so long, Lex. I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured, still breathing hard.
Lexie tucked her face against the side of his neck and let out a shuddering breath, one that picked up speed as her adrenaline rush faded. For the second time, she broke down, her tears soaking through Jake’s shirt as she clutched it in her hands.
And for the second time, he simply held her while she cried.
“You have to go to the police,” Jake said, pacing the living room of Lexie’s apartment. He felt like a caged animal, his muscles itching to destroy something. “I’ll go with you. I’m a witness. I’ll tell them—”
“Jake, stop,” Lexie said, her voice flat as she curled herself around a pillow on the couch. She accepted a steaming cup of something from Olivia, who sank down beside her and rubbed a gentle hand over her back. It was the blankness in her eyes that bothered Jake worse than anything—the way she hadn’t said more than two words at a time since they’d climbed into his truck half an hour ago. It made something inside him start to boil.
“Lexie, you have to do something about this! You have to have him arrested. You have to—”
“It’s not worth it,” she said, using that same hopeless tone.
“Not worth it? Of course, it’s worth it! You’re worth it, Lex! You still don’t get it, do you? I—”
Olivia jumped up off the couch and stormed toward him. “No, you don’t get it!” she insisted, catching Jake off guard as she jammed a finger into his sternum.
His eyes widened as he stepped back instinctively, throwing an anxious glance at Lexie, who was studying the contents of her cup as if they foretold the future.
“She doesn’t have to do anything! And the last thing she needs right now is a man with a hero complex trying to run her life!” Olivia declared.
Jake locked eyes with Olivia, who looked madder than he’d ever seen her, and he was suddenly very concerned about his own well-being. He wouldn’t put it past her to take a swing at him, and he couldn’t bring himself to hit a woman.
The knuckles on his right hand throbbed, and he flexed his fingers cautiously. Nothing seemed to be broken, but the last three were an ugly purplish color that had only grown darker in the last hour. He just hoped he’d left a similar mark on the side of Colt’s face.
“Why would I waste another second dealing with you when I could have anyone I want? There’s nothing that makes you special!”
Jake had heard those words from the hallway, and everything after them was a blur of noise and motion.
The door that had cracked against the drywall when he’d shoved it open.
The jolt in his arm when his fist had connected with Colt’s jaw.
The lurch in his stomach when Colt had shoved him backwards over an office chair.
The twist of panic when Lexie had slipped to the floor.
His first thought when he’d walked in was... Well, it was bad. Jake’s stomach rolled just remembering the way Colt had been braced behind Lexie’s small body, holding her down against the table. He looked at her now, sitting silently on the couch, and the anger in his chest began to ease. Olivia was right; he couldn’t make Lexie do anything. He could only support the decisions she made for herself.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, casting his eyes toward the floor.
“Stand down, cowboy,” Olivia added, her voice softer this time, though she held her ground. “Go home.”
Jake bristled again at the thought of leaving. “I’m not going—”
“Yes, you are,” Olivia interrupted, and her tone left no room for argument.
Jake looked at Lexie again before heaving a sigh that left him drained and exhausted. With a glance at Olivia, who shrugged as if in consent, he stepped around her and made his way across the small living room. He reached the couch and sank to the floor in front of it, bringing himself eye level with Lexie.
“Lex?” he started, waiting for her to look at him, but those beautiful green eyes stayed fixed on her drink. He grazed his fingertips along the left side of her jaw before lifting her chin in his direction. Her eyes followed by degrees, finally finding his and holding on. “Anything you need, Lex. Whatever you decide, you’ve got me, alright?”
She nodded, and though it was only a few millimeters of motion, he felt it.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
Another nod, the smallest movement that somehow chipped away a piece of his heart. He wanted her to reach for him, to need him, to want him to stay. He’d thought maybe something had shifted earlier, before everything had unraveled.
But maybe he’d been wrong.
He gave a small nod of his own, trying hard to understand.
“Okay, then,” he said, rising to his feet. On the way, he threw caution to the wind and leaned down, brushing his lips across the crown of her head.
It wasn’t a kiss. Not really. But it would have to do.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow” was all he said as he crossed back to the door, passing Olivia on the way out. He ignored the knowing look in her eyes, choosing instead to keep the moment tucked away as if it were his alone.
“Jake,” Olivia said as she stopped him with a hand on his arm. She glanced back toward Lexie before lowering her voice even further. “Just be patient.”
Jake sighed again, wondering if being patient would be the thing that killed him.
Jake texted Lexie first thing in the morning.
Jake:Hey, how are you doing?
Lexie:I’m fine.
Jake:Can I come over?
Lexie:No.
He stared at her message for a full thirty seconds before letting out a deep sigh. He was already in his truck prepared to head to her place, but instead he started the engine and made the turn toward Copper Hill. When he finally made his way up the winding driveway of Tanner Farm, the front yard and porch were quiet. Not even Gomer came out to greet him.
However, the house wasn’t completely vacant. The Green Acres theme song drifted down the hall from Grandma Ruby’s apartment, and Jake followed it until he was standing in the open doorway. He arrived just in time to watch his great-grandmother drag a kitchen chair over to her small counter. She looked up, eyeing a cabinet over the fridge with obvious intent.
“Oh, no you don’t, young lady!” he said playfully, striding across the room to stand between her and her destination. “If you climb on this chair, my mother will hang us both from the rafters in the barn.”
“Now, don’t you go bossing me,” Grandma Ruby said, twisting her sweet face into a scowl. “I am not as feeble and frail-minded as you think I am.”
“It’s not your mind I’m worried about; it’s the rest of you,” he insisted as he pushed the chair back to the table. “Now, tell me what you need, and I’ll get it.”
He followed her directions to retrieve a large punch bowl and several etched crystal glasses, which apparently would make a special appearance at Sunday dinner that week. After setting them carefully on the counter, Jake turned to wrap his great-grandmother in a hug, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold her scowl for long. When he stepped back, her face had softened, though it changed again when she caught sight of the hand that was still wrapped protectively around her upper arm.
“Tell me this was for a good cause,” she said, poking gently at his bruised knuckles with practiced skill.
Jake winced and pulled his hand away. “What are the chances you’ll believe I shut it in a door?”
Grandma Ruby raised one thin eyebrow. “You forget I raised four hot-headed American boys. I’ve seen it all, and this was not a door.”
Jake pursed his lips and looked down at his knuckles, closing his fingers into a tight fist before relaxing again. They didn’t throb the way they had the night before, but the bruises were still glaringly obvious. Grandma Ruby made a tsking noise with her mouth, shaking her head slightly.
“The boyfriend, huh?”
Jake grunted, still looking at his hand, and Grandma Ruby apparently took the noise as confirmation. She shuffled slowly to her armchair and lowered herself into it.
“I can’t help but notice you don’t have any other marks on you,” she said, missing nothing, as usual. “Is his aim that bad?”
Jake grimaced and sank onto the couch in his usual place.
“He shoved me over a chair and ran. Apparently getting caught making a scene was worse to him than hurting a woman,” he grumbled, still irritated. Part of him wished Colt had put up a better fight, if only so he’d have had an excuse to beat more of that smug face to a pulp.
“And you didn’t go after him?”
“No, I had to check on Lexie,” Jake said, suddenly unsure he’d made the right choice. But Grandma Ruby smiled, her wrinkled features brightening like a soft candle had been lit behind her eyes.
“You put her well-being above your pride,” she said, beaming. “It sounds like you did exactly right.”
“Well, Lexie doesn’t seem to see it that way. I think she wishes I hadn’t been there at all.”
“Of course she does.”
Jake furrowed his brow, trailing two mental steps behind his great-grandmother. She smiled softly and shook her head.
“You men never learn, do you? You all expect a woman to fall gratefully into your arms when really, sometimes, we just want to curl up and lick our wounds in private. Is this Lexie of yours a strong woman? Does she have a good head on her shoulders?”
“Yes. She’s brilliant.”
“Then do you think she might be embarrassed to have needed help at all? That she couldn’t handle it herself? Maybe not every reaction she has is about you.”
Jake stared down at where his fingers hung laced between his knees, feeling chastened. He had imagined Lexie’s reaction was all about him, but that may have been selfish.
“If she’s not upset with me, then why won’t she talk to me? Why won’t she let me fix it?”
“Because you can’t fix it,” Grandma Ruby said. She used a remote to recline her chair back into a more comfortable position. “It seems to me this girl has a lot of soul-searching to do, and nobody else can do it for her. Does she know how you feel?”
Jake scrubbed the heels of his hands across his face, remembering the way Lexie had looked at him after she’d gone through his phone, the way she’d shivered when he touched her arm.
“I think so,” he said. He glanced over to where his great-grandmother sat patiently.
“Well, then this is the hardest part,” she said. “Now, you wait.”