Chapter 30
Istood inside the entrance to the large room feeling like I’d sunk under the surface of the ocean and swallowed a gallon of seawater on the way down. My stomach was heavy and churning. My chest was tight, and my lungs weren’t taking in air like they should.
It wasn’t that I felt like a fool in my new clothes, with shorter hair and a closely trimmed beard. It didn’t matter how carefully I’d prepared for tonight, or that I was holding a gift for Mags—a bouquet of wild blue phlox flowers that I’d picked from beside the river, symbolic of the fresh start I’d hoped we’d get to have.
What mattered was that her old life had come calling for her, and as much as it galled me, I had to stand back, to let her choose what she wanted.
I couldn’t see Mags through the throng of people, but I knew where she was, seeing as her ex-boyfriend had pointed her out and was singing to her. Gemma was dancing in front of the low stage, enraptured by the rock star.
Eric fucking Storm.
Maybe I couldn’t hate his song, but I had no problem hating him.
Turning, I pushed my way back out of the room, growling rough apologies to the people who were still trying to get inside as I went.
Mags’s ex-boyfriend obviously still loved her. And though I would have sworn she’d never take him back, he was putting on a damn good show. Making a big romantic gesture. If she chose him, nobody here would blame her.
Anger surged in my gut, spiked by frustration and fear of losing her.
Should I go back in there? I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out like a damn caveman. She was mine. MINE.
I paced down the hallway. There was a trash can, and I stopped for long enough to throw the bunch of pretty blue flowers away. I couldn’t force her to choose me. She deserved some space, to figure out what she wanted. To decide who she wanted. Her ex was an asshole who didn’t deserve her, but he was a rock star. All I had to offer was life in a small town, away from the city—and the music—she loved.
“Fuck!” I cursed louder than I meant to, and when I lifted my eyes, Karen Smith and Bonnie Linton were standing in front of me, their eyebrows crawling up to their hairlines with shock at my profanity.
Karen Smith drew herself up with a huff of distaste, her lips tightly pursed. “Just goes to show, you can dress up a Baxter, and he’ll still be a Baxter.”
“I was right about him all along.” Bonnie Linton lifted her nose as though I smelled bad.
I needed some air. Heading out of the community center, I strode into the parking lot. At least there I could pace up and down in peace.
Or maybe I should leave. I could call Gemma and let her know I’d pick her up later.
“Uncle Cy!” My niece spotted me and came jogging over. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing out here? Has the rock star stopped playing?”
“He finished two songs, then announced he wasn’t playing anymore and went to talk to Mags.” She wrinkled her nose, her gaze sympathetic. “Do you think they might get back together?”
“That’s up to her.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Hey, what do you say we go to Nashville to visit your momma?”
She blinked at me. “What, now?”
I shrugged, fighting the urge to hustle her into the car and peel out of there, putting Mags’s rock-star ex far behind us. “We could leave in the morning. Take off early.”
Gemma scrunched her eyes up, squinting as though trying to figure out what my angle was. “Are you saying you want to run away?”
“Mags needs some time to decide what she wants. I figure I should give her some space, so it’s better to get out of town for a few days. I don’t want to push her.”
“Uncle Cy, listen to me.” Gemma grabbed my arms with both hands, her eyes wide and her tone earnest. “Listen carefully. You have to push her!”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Mags needs to know how you feel about her. Have you told her yet?”
I shook my head. “She needs space so she can figure out how she feels without pressure?—”
“Oh my God!” Gemma shook my arms. Or at least, she tried to, but because I was a whole lot taller and stronger, she didn’t manage to move them much. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! She doesn’t need space. No offense, Uncle Cy, but you need to pull your head out of your butt right now or you might lose her.” She gave an exasperated huff of breath. “I mean, you like her, don’t you?”
“I’m crazy about her,” I admitted. It felt good to say it out loud.
“Then go back inside and tell her.” Gemma put her hands on her hips and glared at me so sternly, I gave my lips a rueful tug to the side.
Maybe my niece was right. Mags’s ex-boyfriend was a good-looking asshole who thought singing her a song would make up for all the shit he’d put her through. She might not want to stick around in Green Valley, or to date me, but I had to go back in there and make sure she was okay. And if Eric fucking Storm happened to get pushy and give me a good excuse to sock him right in the nose, well, maybe I’d forget my vow of nonviolence and not try too hard to hold myself back.
“All right,” I said. “And I love you, Gem. You know that right?”
She rolled her eyes, the gesture so much like Mags that it took me by surprise. “Get out of here,” she ordered, pointing a firm finger at the door to the community center. “Stop wasting time and go get your woman!”