Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Do you know why I don’t drink?” I ask, suddenly curious if he knows.
Jesse drinks beer when we go to Puss N Boots, and he always has a six-pack in his fridge, but somewhere along the way, he noticed that I don’t drink. Ever. So he’s never offered me beer or wine, never questioned why I get tap or sparkling water, never made it a thing at all. Most other women crawling into a hot bath after a long day would probably take a glass of wine with them, but here I am . . . with my sparkling water.
He shrugs nonchalantly as he says, “Figured it had to do with your dad.”
I look at him in surprise before narrowing my eyes. “How do you know that?”
“I grew up in a bar, seen more drunks than I cared to. Seen their families too. There’s a way they watch them, like they’re waiting for them to fuck up. You do that with your dad sometimes. It could’ve been for another reason, but back when Winston was getting married . . . the day we met—”
“And I thought you were the caterer,” I finish, knowing where that sentence goes from our relentless teasing.
But Jesse shakes his head. “Before that. I was in the house, bringing in the cupcakes for Mom, and I walked past the living room dozens of times. People don’t notice you when you’re doing shit like that. It’s like you’re invisible. Anyway, I saw your dad sitting in there alone, and he seemed melancholy. I would’ve chalked it up to the wedding, like the bittersweetness of your kid getting older, but it was the way he was staring at the glass in his hand that struck me. I’d seen it before. So, when I noticed you didn’t drink and saw the way you take care of your family, I figured that was why. You can’t be responsible for everyone else when you’re not stone-cold sober, can you? And they need you.”
He’s remarkably spot-on, on every account.
Except one.
“They don’t need me so much anymore,” I admit, with more sadness than I thought I’d feel about it. “For a long time, I was struggling hard. Going to school, coming home, doing internships, keeping up appearances, and all the while, my family was falling apart for one reason and one reason only. Uncle Jed.”
“Hate that motherfucker,” Jesse spits out, rallying to my cause without even understanding why.
I smile softly. “He had Dad all tied up in that deal here, the one he ended up building in Brookstone, and Dad knew it was a bad deal but couldn’t get out of it. He took to drinking, trying to soothe his soul, but he’d sold it to the devil. It wasn’t until that whole thing blew up and Jed slunk away to lick his wounds that my dad got better. He quit drinking, quit his job as mayor, and started hanging out with Mom. They’re doing really well now.”
My smile grows as I think of all the happy moments they’ve had over the last few years.
“But you still remember. Still want to be ready if they need you to catch them when they fall,” Jesse guesses. “Does it bother you that I have a beer or two sometimes? I can stop if it does.”
The offer is kind and shows how sensitive the heart that beats in his tattooed chest can be. “No, no. That’s not why I mentioned it,” I tell him. “It’s because of Jed. I know you’re disappointed that we’re having to redo this contract and Chrissy’s your new boss, and I guess I’m worried that maybe I could’ve done more to get them to stay together for a few months. But I have so much hatred for Uncle Jed that I don’t know if I did my best.”
I didn’t even realize I was carrying so much guilt about that until the words tumble out. But now that I hear them, I can feel that ugly darkness deep in my heart.
Could I have done more?
There’s always something else to try, another angle to play, another negotiation to offer, but when Jed said no, I let him walk away without another word.
Jesse scoffs, grinning at me in that sexy, sideways kinda way he has. His hair falls forward, into his face, but he leaves it, letting one dark eye peer through the curtain of hair. “You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t know all the details, but I’ve got a pretty good idea what it took to get the Township contract with Jed done in the first place. But you did it, with heart and grit. And a helluva lotta brains. You, Wren Fucking Ford, the badass city attorney for Cold Springs. Jed’s some sort of big bad guy in your mind, but you negotiated the shit outta that deal. You won’t do any less for this one, and nobody wants you to. We want you to do what you’re best at, working for the people of Cold Springs.” He pauses, and I swear I can see him forcing the words off his tongue, “Even if it means working with The Asshole.”