CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LIZ
It's been almost a week since Jovi and I went out and he surprised me with Dee Sparks.
And…other things. I'd woken up confused the next day, but not in a bad way.
It was almost exciting. Considering what it could mean.
Barely allowing myself to peek at my own feelings already filled me with the sort of giddy butterflies I haven't felt, well, maybe ever.
It seemed insane to even think the words. Jovi and me. Together. By choice. Romantically.
I'd excepted to scoff at the mere notion, but I hadn't. I'd done the opposite. Giggling to myself like a little girl with a crush.
But, I'm never one to go with the flow. So, the whole time I'd been going through the motions, taking pictures of Holly, my mind had turned over every possibility.
Maybe it wasn't Jovi that was making my giddy.
Maybe I was so man deprived anyone kissing me could set my head spinning with this sort of delirious delight.
To test out my theory, I imagined kissing someone else. Brennan popped into my head first and that thought definitely didn't do anything for me. Actually, it did. The thought of his lips coming for mine, did make me scoff.
Then I thought of Cas. Sweet and funny and charming and super easy on the eyes. Still nothing. I didn't have any sort of physical reaction to the idea, but I did visualize myself turning away as he leaned in. Like even my imagination couldn't be swayed to smooch another man.
I gave it one more go imagining Zac Efron. Because who wouldn't want to kiss Zach Efron? Or really, either one of the Efron brothers. Well, as it turns out, me. Because pretty boy Zac also got an imaginary brush off when I let that fantasy play out.
Naturally, when that concept failed, I tried to spin it another way. That kissing Jovi had been so traumatic, my mind was now blocking all thoughts of kissing.
But then I tested that theory out by imagining Jovi as the one to lean close, gaze locked on my mouth in that way he had the night before.
When his lips closed in on mine, I didn't reject him like I did the others.
I leaned in. I kissed him back. And shit took a turn toward Smuts Ville real fucking fast.
Until Tammy crashed my photoshoot, as well as the fantasy, and thoughts of kissing and Jovi fell by the wayside. As did every good feeling I had buzzing through me from the night before.
I kept to myself the rest of the day, trying to shake off her words.
By Monday morning, when the kids and I were waving Holly's Uber farewell, I'd almost convinced myself that it was nothing.
Tammy was still grieving and her threats were based on all that pain spilling over.
A desperate grab for control in a situation there was none to be found.
The week kept moving and we fell into our routine with enough ease to keep my mind centered on other things. Including talking to Jovi.
But somehow three days went by without either of us crossing paths with the other. I even skipped having the kids bring him dinner and took it out to him myself. But every time I went out to the barn, a meal in hand, he was off working a horse or fixing a fence or running an errand.
Then Thursday rolled around.
And Tammy served me papers.
Not empty threats. Not an overspill of grief.
She's suing me for custody.
Twenty-four hours have passed since I opened the envelope and read those words, and still I have no fucking clue how to stop her. No amount of reading the papers over or processing or hiding them under my mattress has gotten me any closer to an answer.
"Liz?" Cas's voice follows a knock at my back door, and I retrace my last few steps to reenter the kitchen I was on the verge of leaving. "Oh, there you are."
"Are you looking for the kids?" I ask. "I sent them all up to Gavin's room with apples and cheese sticks a minute ago.
" Rodeo riders should be rolling in anytime now and I prefer to keep all three kids inside while the trucks and trailers are moving through.
We'll head out a few minutes before the first event once everyone's settled.
"Actually, I was looking for Jovi. He stepped out about half an hour ago, and he hasn't been back since. Crow is down there, taking signups and making sure everyone's got a waiver on file, but Jovi usually handles putting together the line up."
Crow started coming out the second week we opened up our rodeo nights just to watch.
He was an up-and-coming bronc rider, making a real name for himself in the circuit when he got pinned by a horse inside the chute and nearly died.
He's fully recovered now, but I don't think he'll ever be able to ride like that again.
Not that it scared him away from the action.
He's been here volunteering every Friday since.
"Jovi hasn't been up to the house," I tell him, frowning as my mind starts to wander.
Where would he go this close to starting time? It's unusual for him to disappear. Being dependable is Jovi's whole thing. If any man ever knew how to relentlessly show up, it's Jovi.
I used to find it annoying. Now, I see it for what it is. Invaluable. The most generous sort of love.
He gives of himself. His time. Without question. Without limitation. Without hesitation. Always.
"He didn't say where he was going or what he was going to do?" I ask, nerves knotting up at the pit of my stomach. "Could he be hurt? It's not like him to drop the ball on something like this."
Cas shrugs, his frown only adding to the helplessness of the gesture. "All he said was that he was stepping out and he'd be back."
I nod, chewing the inside of my cheek. "Can you stay with the kids for a sec? I might know where to find him."
"Of course."
As soon as I see his head begin to drop into a nod, I start moving. I don't know why, but there's only one place I can think to look. One place that's insane to consider and yet it's all that flashes inside my head as I go over the places Jovi might be.
I practically run from the back door down to the barn, cutting through the small pasture filling the space between the backyard and the paddocks attached to the rear stalls.
Voices and hooves and horse snorts fill the air the closer I get, but I tune them all out, making my way around the back and slipping in through the small door leading into the feed room.
The ladder to the hay attic is down and I don't think twice before I start to climb it.
Hay hasn't been stored up here since the pole barn was built, allowing for more space and easier access, so I'm not surprised to find the space empty.
Nor am I surprised to find one of the hatch windows lining the slanted roof open.
My steps slow as I approach it, and I take a breath before I reach my hands into the frame, grip tight and jump. I gain just enough air to pull myself up and through.
"Liz."
"What," I grunt, dragging myself out the rest of the way as Jovi hurries to crawl toward me, "is your obsession with rooftops?"
He settles back into sitting, arms out as though he's ready to catch me if I start to fall.
The roof feels unexpectedly sturdy, though I make a point not to look down.
I'm not necessarily scared of heights, but it's a little unnerving to be so far up, at an angle, with nothing to stop you or grab ahold of if you were to slip.
"I like to come up here and think," he admits, but there's no sheepish grin to go with it. No mischievous twinkle in those eyes that aren't supposed to know how not to sparkle. The only time I ever saw them flat like this was when his father died. And then again after Lena and Trent’s accident.
"Did someone die?" I blurt out before I can think it over.
"What?" he lets out a surprised laugh. But there's no amusement in it. "No. No one died. Brennan's being an asshole, but that's about it."
My jaw tenses. "What did he do?"
Jovi shakes his head. "Horse stuff. I'll handle it."
"By risking another fall off the roof?"
"I didn't bring a skateboard this time," he says, eyes cast out toward the pastures and the eastern property lines. "No need to worry about me falling."
"I wasn't worried."
"Liar." His laugh is softer this time.
"They need you down there," I say, pointing at Crow standing beside a truck, the driver's side window down as he jots some information down on his clipboard.
"I know," he says. "I'll be there in a sec."
But he doesn't make a move to go back inside.
Neither do I.
JOVI
It's at the tip of my tongue to tell her, to give her the full scope of what we're dealing with, of the threat Brennan has made against the business. Me. Her. The fucking kids.
She deserves to know. We're partners, maybe not to the extent it's becoming achingly clear to me I wish we were, but in this, we're partners. And as my partner, she deserves to know.
But I can't fucking get myself to tell her.
I meant to. All fucking week, I meant to go and see her.
To talk to her. To brainstorm, discuss options, come up with a solution.
Together. Like we have for everything else since we found ourselves thrust into this mess.
But then I thought of the way her eyes held light for the first time in months the night she saw Dee on stage.
How the vivid green and bright blues I've seen dimmed for months, grew brighter after we kissed.
And fuck, I couldn't bring myself to be the one to snuff them out again.
Now, sitting here with her, I can't help but see that someone or something else already did.
Unless it was me anyway. Maybe my attempt at shielding her only resulted in hurting her more.
We've hardly spoken. And even though she's brought me dinner every night and I've made sure I kept the kids busy outside every afternoon so she could work at least a few hours every day, she might have felt like I was avoiding her. Which I was. But fuck, not like that.
"Christ, I'm an idiot," I mutter out loud.
She looks over, a flash of surprise in her eyes and shaping her mouth. "What?"
"I dropped this whole fucking bomb on you Saturday night, and then I just—"
"It's fine," she cuts me off before I can finish. "It was good actually. Gave me time to think."
I frown, taking in the tone. The tight lines of tension in her jaw. "That doesn't sound like it went well."
"It did." She nods, as if unaware we're disagreeing. "Because I remembered something I lost sight of in coming here."
I can feel my scowl growing deeper. "What's that?"
"I'm my mother's daughter," she says, the empty sound of her voice sends chills down my spine. "I'm not built for commitment. For long term. I can't be depended on. Not like you."
"What the actual fuck are you talking about?
" I damn near snarl like I'm an animal, a strange primal rage unleashing in my chest. Not toward her.
Never toward her. Only on her behalf. An animalistic need to protect her.
Even from herself. From this bullshit she's been telling herself her whole life.
Ever since words once meant as endearment became a curse.
She's just like her mother. But for whatever wonderful qualities she shared with the women, all Liz has ever focused on is how her mother left.
How she ran out on everyone and everything in the middle of the night. And never looked back.
"I wanted to do this," she says, her voice still hollow. "For Lena, I wanted to. But I can't. And the sooner I accept that, the sooner I'm honest about it, the less it will hurt the kids in the long run."
I blink, unable to make sense of what's happening. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm going to let Tammy and Abe raise the kids. If you still want to save the business, to ensure the kids are set up in the future, that would obviously be amazing, but I think everyone would understand if you let it go. Went back to your own life."
I swear, my heart stalls out for several beats. "Is this because of what happened? Between us? Is that why you're freaking out?"
"I'm not freaking out. This has nothing to do with us.
But it is one more reason why an us shouldn't even be considered.
I always thought you were just as fucked up as I was, commitment-phobe and all.
And maybe that's why I let it happen, why I let you kiss me.
Because it was safe. It was nothing. Temporary. "
Every word is like a punch to my chest, but I say nothing. Brace myself for each hit as I listen.
"But then I had time to think, and I realized the truth is you're a million times better than me, because you still show up. Afraid or not, you keep being there. Keep trying. And maybe I got swept up in thinking I could too."
"You could too?"
"Try," and her voice breaks on the word. It's as much relief to hear the emotions as it breaks me apart to hear so much hurt in one small word.
"I don't. Ever,” she whispers. “I haven't committed to anyone or anything in my entire adult life.
Brennan is the last guy I went out with longer than three months and that was proximity more than anything.
I always knew that relationship would end the second school was out and I left town.
I was fine with it. You thought he was my first love, but I never let myself get attached to him.
It didn't hurt when it ended. I didn't cry.
I didn't miss him when I left. Not once.
" She sucks in a breath. "But I missed you. "