Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
LEE
Iwanted to kiss her. It wasn’t the first time since I had arrived back in Savannah that I wanted to take her gorgeous, freckle-peppered face into my hands and feel the softness of her lush lips again.
Just the thought of it lit a fire inside my soul that burned brighter the longer we stood there, glaring at each other.
I took a step away from her.
I willed myself to change the subject before I lifted her up onto the bar, ran my hands through her hair and grabbed the back of her head, kissing down her neck until I got…
“We should start talking about knocking down the back rooms and building out. I had the blueprints ordered and the city ordinances pulled. You own quite a bit of space back there in the alley, so you won’t need to build inward. ”
She was staring at me with a mix of shock and bewilderment, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
I took a few more steps back, trying to rein in my frustration.
She was driving me crazy, but she was my brother’s girlfriend.
As much as I wanted to growl in frustration, I knew I had to respect that.
Even though, deep down, I was painfully aware that Dane wasn’t giving her the respect she deserved.
I had to find out who was in the corner of that video call. I had to get to the bottom of what Dane was really up to. Did he genuinely want Maggie to move in and take the next steps in their relationship because he was a man in love? Or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface?
Was he going to take everything away from her for his own selfish gain?
A strong sense of urgency gnawed at me. I had to prove to Maggie that Dane wasn’t who he seemed, that moving in with him and giving him that kind of control over her life—over her business—if they got married was a colossal mistake. But how could I do that without exposing my secret?
The hug we had shared was enough to fill my cup, even though I already felt it emptying again.
For a brief moment, the comfort of her closeness made everything else fade, but as soon as she pulled back, the weight of reality came rushing back.
It wasn’t the kind of emptiness I could fix with a hug.
It was a quiet reminder that even when we came close, the distance between us still lingered.
But I could feel myself slipping back into that place with Maggie, where things felt easy, where everything felt right. Where small, innocent touches sparked something deep inside me, stirring a longing that I could barely contain, my body calling out to her, craving more.
It was a spiral, and if I wasn’t careful, it would whip itself into a full-blown tornado
“I was thinking of starting slow. Lee, renovations will cost a lot of money. I don’t want to go overboard,” she stated flatly, turning away from me to tidy up the bottles stacked neatly, and clearly untouched, behind the bar.
If she had any idea just how overboard I wanted to go, she would throw me out.
“Well, I have a little bit of cash on hand at the moment that’s not tied into the Trust. What were you thinking?”
“Actually, this wouldn’t cost much money at all.” I caught the twinkle in her eye as she worked out what was going on in her head. “I’m thinking you could sing. Saturday night. Here.”
Maggie and I spent the rest of the night hashing out ideas for the bar.
I agreed to play a gig on Saturday night, and she immediately started spreading the word on social media.
“Grammy Award-winning songwriter, Leland Wilder, for one night only!” She kept checking her phone, and every time she got a ping, she’d light up, talking about all the likes and comments rolling in.
Her shoulders squared up, and for the first time in a while, her smile reached her eyes again.
“Charlie told me I need to use hashtags, so I think that’s helping it gain some traction,” she quipped, her voice growing higher by the minute as her excitement escalated.
I knew all too well how to make her happy, and just being there, doing it again, stirred up a whirlwind of emotions I’d long buried.
My ego swelled with every burst of pep in her voice, the same energy that used to ignite everything between us.
The way she lit up when talking about her plans—it was a reminder of all the things we had once dreamed of.
We ordered in some takeout, and she hopped up every now and again to tend to the to-go cup window, moving with the same easy grace I’d never quite gotten over.
Every moment felt like a pull, a whisper of what could’ve been.
“It will be nice to have people in the bar again instead of just stopping by on their way to somewhere better,” she grumbled, sitting back down next to me. Our knees brushed briefly, and a jolt of electricity shot through me, like a spark igniting something that had never fully gone out.
In the few days I’d been back in Savannah, everything about Magnolia crept back into my heart and my soul.
All those years of shared moments—those little things we used to do without thinking—came rushing back, the kind of memories that never really faded, only lay dormant, waiting for the right moment to resurface.
The laughter, the love, the intimacy—the way her touch felt like home.
It had taken miles and distance, years of burying myself in albums and lyrics, to convince myself I could let her go.
But it took one look across a crowded breakfast restaurant a little over a week ago for it to all come screaming back.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t need to check it to know who was trying to get my attention. On the Uber ride over, I’d scrolled through Janelle’s Instagram feed, filled with meticulously staged “girl power” selfies and those well-timed inspirational quotes about moving on from heartbreak.
Her followers had been all over it, and now they were swarming my social media, too, hunting for answers and demanding to know what was going on.
“I’m just going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
Maggie nodded as I pushed away from the table where we had been enjoying some cold beers and good company. The second I walked away, I felt the emptiness crawling into my soul again.
“Janelle, what the hell are you doing? Your fan club is all over my Instagram, looking for answers. Someone just commented ‘Fess up, douchebag.’ Girl, what are you up to?”
Janelle let out a frustrated breath on the other end, and I heard her step out of her loud studio where she self-shot all of her digital content and into her quieter living room.
“Lee, you’ve been gone for over a week. I have barely heard from you, and when I do, you’re rushed. Then, I see this post from some dive bar in Savannah that you’re playing there on Saturday. News to me, you were supposed to be back by then.”
I ripped off my baseball cap and tossed it on the sink in front of me, running my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I should have called.”
“You should have done more than called Lee. You made me look like a fool.” She paused, letting the words linger like a storm cloud hanging over us.
“Which isn’t shocking since I’m certainly not the first person you’ve done this to.
After all, this was a setup, wasn’t it? Besides, I can spin this.
I have a new athleisure line coming out that will coincide well with the breakup weight loss. ”
Everything was a business opportunity for her.
But standing in the bathroom of a bar I was about to invest in, with the woman I still wanted more than anything in the world just outside the door, I guess I was guilty of the same shit.
Except, for me, it was just one “like,” one “heart,” I was trying to gain.
“I’m sorry, Janelle,” I offered again.
“It’s whatever, Lee. I’ll send my breakup NDA over to your label.”
She hung up quickly, leaving me alone in the bathroom with my thoughts swirling like a blender on high.
Here I was, taking a risk on someone who had long closed the book on our relationship—hell, the entire series—ten years ago.
Someone who was dating my brother. Someone who was moving forward with her life while I was still all caught up in the past, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Someone I was, indubitably, insanely, still in love with. And always, always would be.