chapter TWENTY
Therapist: Sometimes letting things play out and letting them come to you is a healthier path.
Jay: I’m a Stonewood. I fight for what’s mine, for what’s worth it, and I win.
Jay
Brey:Sandy is spreading around the town that she has a date with you. Do we need to go for a run before festival so that I know what to expect?
Jay:Expect all women to be fawning over me at all times.
Brey:Seriously, Jay. The town’s talking.
Jay:It always does, baby girl. I’m not worried.
Brey: I am.
Most people didn’t like the town gossip. It was like a small wind that built a tsunami that descended on whoever was the target. I knew Mikka and I had positioned ourselves as potential targets.
I was accustomed to the risks after being in the public eye for so long. Mikka was a different story. In LA, she could stand to one side of me and not be noticed. Here, she was the center of attention, and her every move was examined under a microscope. I didn’t know if it was fair to put her in that position, but I couldn’t have her anywhere else.
The moment I saw her when I walked out of rehab, I knew I wouldn’t let her go anywhere without me. The woman had been broken, and I wasn’t about to have her shattered any further. She needed time to find herself again. And for some reason, Greenville’s small town nosey magnifying glass was allowing her to do that.
She emerged from her room in ripped up jeans, bright white tennis shoes, and a sweater that hung off one shoulder. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back and I knew it would slide through my fingers like liquid. Something in my gut twisted at seeing her dressed down like this. She usually wore her stilettos with red bottoms and a designer fitted shirt that looked lethal.
Tonight, she’d gone for an “autumn in a village” style, and thinking of her cozying up to another man in that relaxed look… it didn’t feel at all right.
She wrinkled her nose and pulled at the dark sweater. “This okay?”
“You’ve finally figured out you aren’t in LA anymore,” I murmured. Her bare shoulder and exposed thighs teased me into contemplating dragging her back into her room to show her how the night was really going to go.
She wasn’t going to be cuddling up to Brady, and I wasn’t going to have men eyeing up every part of her exposed skin all night as if she was completely available. It looked too smooth, too enticing, too damn good for anyone, especially Brady.
I knew it deep in my bones. I was a good actor, but no one was that good. This woman wasn’t going near anyone but me tonight.
“You look good,” I mumbled and cleared my throat. “The shoes should work for the walk.”
“Why can’t we drive?” she whined just as the doorbell rang.
Knowing it was Brady, I didn’t hurry to the door. I lingered in front of the stair’s landing instead. “Because there’s no parking from here all the way to the festival.”
She peered out the window down the street and her jaw dropped at the line of cars past the lodge. “Where did they all come from?”
“People come from all over for this. The pies, the music, the nostalgia, the memories—it’s the big event of the year here.”
“You didn’t come back for it last year.” Her rolodex of a mind was trying to figure out where I was instead.
“We had back to back shows scheduled for my newest movie.”
She rubbed a hand over her shoulder as she put the pieces together. “I made you do those shows. You didn’t want to. You wanted to go home.”
I shrugged. “It all worked out.” Mikka knew what was best for my career. I let her line things up and sacrificed things like this because of that. I’d made up for it by visiting my brothers in the city for a Halloween party later that year. It hadn’t mattered much.
“You should have told me you wanted to come back to be with your family, to be a part of this.”
“It’s not a big deal, Meek.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you realize that not having anything be a big deal is a big deal. When you roll with everything to make it all good for everyone, do you ever feel as if you’ve made it bad for yourself?”