“I already warned you I’d kick your ass if you hurt her, Jace Jacobs.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“Then don’t.”
A sigh pilfered from between my pursed lips.
“Don’t make me hunt you down and maim that pretty face. Don’t want to do it, but I will.”
“Courtney.”
“Jace,” she returned just as hard.
Silence wavered between us. “Just . . . go out there before you leave. That’s all I’m asking of you. After everything, please do this one thing.”
“Fine.”
This was such a bad idea. Such a terrible idea because walking away again was going to be the most excruciating thing I had ever had to do.
Leaving for good.
I ended the call and made a quick U-turn. My sluggish heart instantly racing.
I made it back through Charleston and hit the quiet streets of Broadshire Rim.
I swore that I could look at the sidewalks and see all those ghosts.
Speeding through it, I felt unprepared for the million memories that slammed me as I made the last turn onto the dirt road that ran along the backside of town.
The car jostled down the bumpy dirt road, and I remembered the stake to my heart the first time I’d seen her.
Standing there in that corner of the office like she was trapped by a wild animal.
The feeling she’d invoked.
The care she’d given.
Meeting her on this road what felt like a million times. Falling fast. Loving her hard and so stupidly.
But not as stupidly as when I’d come back here, when I’d tripped into all that grace and found comfort in the one who I never could keep.
I’d known it.
And I’d tried to keep her anyway.
But I’d always been that kind of fool.
My heart hammered like a bitch as I got closer to the plantation, grief climbing my throat when I thought of seeing them again, as I worried what might be wrong.
I slowed when I noticed something in the distance, right at the end of the turn to the plantation.
I squinted into the bright sunlight, my pulse kicking, blood pounding through my veins.
Faith and Bailey were standing at the end of the drive.
A big wooden sign had been erected, painted white, an outline I couldn’t make out etched over the top.
Terror hit me hard when I realized it had to be a for sale sign.
Everything churned when I came to a stop and killed the engine.
Just staring out the windshield at Faith who was staring back.
Energy thrashed.
A shockwave through the humid air.
Drawn, I clicked open the door and warily stepped out, that feeling rising higher.
Her grace so full.
Her spirit so warm.
I wanted to rest in it forever.
My heart tumbled in my chest when I glanced down at Bailey who swayed at her mother’s side, hearts and rainbows printed all over her shirt and magic in her brown, brown eyes.
My Unicorn Girl.
My throat grew thick, so thick I could barely speak, but I finally forced out the choppy words. “Courtney said you needed help.”
Faith nodded, blinked, and let her gaze sweep to the sign. “I’m going to need some help paintin’ this.”
I shook my head. “I won’t help you give up your dream, Faith. I won’t. Please, don’t do it.”
But Faith . . . Faith smiled. She smiled that smile that annihilated me.
Joy and life and light.
My goddamned knees went weak.
“I’m not givin’ up my dream, Jace. I’m asking you to live it with me.”
She took a tentative step forward.
Stealing air.
With that one footstep, I was hit with a crush of need.
“I know what you did,” she whispered, her voice so soft it was a song.
“What do you mean?”
She gestured toward the house that was hidden in the protection of the row of spindly trees. “You gave me this. My dream. Even when you thought you couldn’t be a part of it.”
She wasn’t supposed to know. Not ever. My head shook, trying to stop her from coming closer, but she didn’t stop.
She just took another step while she stared up at me with those chocolate eyes.
Bailey trotted along with her, holding onto her thigh, the little thing an extension of her mom.
“You bought this house, didn’t you? For me?”
God damn it.
My hand went to my chest. Like I could physically rip the pain from where it lived.
Reluctantly, I nodded. “It was always supposed to be yours.”
Her lips pursed, so soft, so goddamned soft that I wanted to dip down and taste them one more time.
Her words cut off that thought. “No, Jace, it was always supposed to be ours.”
My chest tightened, and she edged an inch closer. “I knew the second you barged into my life that I was never goin’ to be the same. I wasn’t. You changed me. Changed me in the best of ways.”
Grief climbed my throat. “I failed you, Faith.”
She reached out and set her hand on my cheek. “You saved me. You saved me and my daughter.”