“Why didn’t she join us?” Ags asked curiously, stacking the glasses. “We had plenty of room for her kiddos, didn’t we?”
“There’s always room for her kiddos.” Lydia beamed. “Jeb, can you help me take these plates into the kitchen?”
“Yep. On it.” He began collecting the dishes and passed by Ags, keeping his eyes on the floor. “And I bet Kelly didn’t come because of what happened to Devin’s dad.”
“Oh, that’s right!” The excitement in Ags’ voice caught him off guard, for whatever reason, and he turned around to see her clutching the glasses to her chest, a dreamy look in her eyes. “They’re kind of a thing now, right? Her, Devin, and that Nick fellow?”
“That seems to be the case,” he replied slowly, unsure. He didn’t have all the facts and couldn’t say yes or no, but from the few details he’d picked up over the last little while, Devin and Kelly were definitely having some sort of relationship with Old Man Laveau’s son.
How did that work, exactly?
“I think it’s the sweetest.” Ags giggled, passing him again with a bounce in her step. “Kelly deserves to be happy; Devin, too.”
At least somebody around here is happy.
Just thinking about all of it made him downright depressed. He needed to do something to take his mind off of it – take his mind off of her.
“Do you mind if I call it a night?” He asked after putting the final stack of plates on the counter to be washed. “I’m kind of tired.”
“Of course, Jeb. I’d be tired, too,” his sister said, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. “Go get some rest and we can start figuring stuff out tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Sis. I appreciate it.” He hugged her back, closing his eyes briefly. “And thanks for letting me stay here.”
“You definitely don’t have to thank me for that, Jebson. We’re family; it’s what we do.”
“I know that, but I promise I won’t be in your hair for too long. All I need to do is figure out the funds for getting my place fixed up and—”
“We’ll help you with that,” she interrupted, pulling back to stare at him. “You don’t even need to worry about money.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” He eyed her. “Lydia, I love you to the stars and back, but I refuse to let you and Callum pay for anything, okay? I can do it...I just need time.”
Nibbling on her lip, she squinted her eyes and frowned. “Something tells me I’m not going to win this argument.”
“No, you ain’t gonna win it.” He chuckled. “This is enough for me, Lyds. Being under a roof that’s intact – that’s all I need right now. But I cannot accept money from y’all. Let me do this on my own, okay?”
“Fine.” She sulked.
“Thank you.” He smooched her forehead and took a step back. “Goodnight, Sis. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bright and early!” She called after him. “We’re supposed to be in town around noon to help start the clean up.”
“I’ll be up.” But he wasn’t sure if he would be or not.
How was he supposed to get any sleep with Aggie right across the hall from him?
Chapter 3
Ags
Two weeks had flown by before she realized it.
Prairie Town was well on its way back to normalcy. The damage done by the tornados had been cleaned up, most of the houses had been repaired, and the townsfolk seemed to have moved on. All of it had become a bad memory.
Fourteen days had passed by since that terrifying afternoon. She had lost nearly everything, but there was a silver lining; she’d been shacked up in her best friend’s glorious house with her equally glorious brother for three hundred and thirty-six hours—and counting.
It only took two weeks for her to end up in his bed.
But, in her mind, the reasoning behind it was totally justifiable, albeit silly.
While the worst of the storms had indeed passed by, there were still a few thunderstorms crawling through, making their way into Prairie Town before moving on and weakening. It just so happened that one of them had made an appearance the night before, and well, she didn’t take kindly to storms at all.
She left home when she was fifteen. Unable to deal with her mother’s betrayal of sending her uncle away, and then adding on the fact she wanted to have her hospitalized for something beyond her control, she’d made the decision to pack up and leave—maybe even find a better place to exist.
It wasn’t at all easy to do. There were rough times, sad times, and desperate times. She’d done things she wasn’t proud of; things she’d never dare tell anyone about, but she finally made it to where she wanted to be.
She’d found happiness in Vermont when she stumbled onto the doorstep of Grammy McIntosh’s home.
But the storms...
She’d gotten caught up in so many of them while living on the streets. The thunder and lightning had terrified her time and time again, leaving her hunkered beneath a box, or whatever else could serve as shelter, crying and praying to the gods for something to change.
They still haunted her, and that’s how she ended up in Jeb’s bed.
She’d snuck out of her room well past four in the morning with the intent of getting something to drink—preferably something that would calm her nerves. The thunder rattled her to the very core and if she didn’t find some alcohol soon, she knew she’d end up freaking out over it.
Freaking out meant disturbing Lydia. Disturbing Lydia meant questions would be asked. And those questions would lead to memories she didn’t want to remember.
So yes, alcohol had been the best idea at the time. But then she’d heard music...
As she tiptoed across the cool marbled floors, hoping to make it to the kitchen without being detected, the soft sound of a guitar caught her ear. Turning her head in the direction of Jeb’s room, her heart immediately went into a frenzy of backflips and somersaults.
She had heard Laney and Lydia talk about his guitar-playing before, but he’d never played in front of her. He’d never played in front of anyone, as far as she knew.
“He does it for family sometimes,” Lydia once said. “He’s weird about his guitar, but he’s really good at it. I wish he’d pursue something bigger.”
And as she listened intently, right there in the middle of the hallway, she wished he would, too.
The soft plucking of the strings called to her, beckoned her to come closer.
She wanted to.
The melody was sad enough to break a person’s heart, and yet all she could do was relate to the sorrowful tune as it soared through the air, so light and beautiful.
Just a little closer, she thought.
She crept towards his bedroom door and carefully rested her ear against it, listening as if she were trying to find out his secrets.
It was to her delight to discover the smooth sound of his voice accompanying the music.
He was singing, and it was the most heavenly thing she’d ever heard in her life.
His voice remained soft, and so heartbreaking, as he sang. The words were hard to hear, but she recognized the tune. He was singing ‘Nobody Knows it But Me’.
Oh, God. Why is he so sad? The sting of oncoming tears burned in her eyes as she sucked in a breath and bit her lip, afraid to move in fear of disturbing him.
How embarrassing would it be to get caught?
The song ended and another began within seconds. It seemed like he had something on his mind, and maybe music was the only way to get through it.
Again, she could relate more than anyone could ever realize.
‘Why’ by Jason Aldean was his next selection, and gods, he did the song justice. The more she listened, the more she fell in love with his voice.
And the more she wanted to be in his room, watching the one-man show.
There was something so pure about the way he was singing; it was easy to see it was something he enjoyed.
If only I enjoyed something so much, she thought, allowing her e
yes to close as she became lost in a new world.
I will never tell him I did this.
It was a good plan, wasn’t it? To stand outside his room and listen to him sing his heart out, him being none-the-wiser to it happening. It was a special memory she’d keep locked away for a rainy night—like tonight.
Lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up the entire length of the hallway, no thanks to the tall window at the end, and she nearly died right then and there.
A soft squeal escaped her and she clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
The music stopped and footsteps approached just as the thunder rolled through.
As the door swung open, she knew she was caught.
“Aggie?”
Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, she cursed the gods and wished she could disappear from his sight. How was she going to explain herself?
“I’m so sorry,” she finally said, remaining tense and as stiff as a board. She dared not move as he pushed the door further open and joined her in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through her mind, but she wasn’t about to look at him.
She couldn’t.
But then his hand touched her arm and electricity sizzled all the way up into her chest. It was so magnetic, almost magical, as his close proximity became all she could feel.
“Are you okay, Aggie?”
Slowly, very slowly, she opened one eye to peer up at him. Jeb was a giant of a man, and he made her feel no bigger than an ant as he peered down at her with those soft green eyes of his. The light flooding through from his bedroom silhouetted his large frame, but she could still see the kindness in his gaze.
She suddenly didn’t feel so scared.
“It’s storming...”
Well, duh. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out, yet it was the only thing she could say as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
It was also pretty difficult to come up with a plausible excuse when he was standing there in a pair of jogging pants and nothing else.
The gods had to give her strength to keep her eyes from traveling down.
“It’s supposed to be a pretty bad one tonight,” he said after a few seconds. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. No, I was already awake. I can’t sleep very well when it’s raining so hard.”
And it was. Gods, was it ever. It sounded like a stampede of elephants outside as the rain beat down against the roof. What made it worse was the fact Lydia’s house contained three levels. It had to be hitting with some hard force for her to hear it on the second floor.
“The sandman isn’t visiting you either, huh?” He chuckled softly and rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes never leaving hers.
“He doesn’t like visiting me, I’m afraid.” She sighed heavily and hugged her arms around herself, glancing down the long, dark hallway that led to the stairs. “I was thinking of getting something to drink.”
“I’ll come with,” he said, perhaps a little too eagerly. Or maybe she just wanted to think that. Jeb had better things to do than drink with her, right? “I mean...if you’re okay with that. Do you want some company?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Yes, please. I’d like that very much.”
The memory played through her mind and she smiled to herself, burying her face against a pillow that smelled just like him. Inhaling deeply, she sighed in content and decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a few more minutes of sleep.
But, as per usual, the gods had other plans.
A swift knock sounded on the door, followed by Lydia’s cheerful voice.
“Up and at ‘em, sleepyhead!” She said, knocking again. “Come on, Jebson. We’ve got a lot of work to do today. Mr. Reynolds will need your help with that new shipment of wood they got in from Kentucky. We’re rebuilding Mrs. Harrington’s porch.”
“Go away,” he mumbled. “I’m tired.”
Giggling softly, she carefully rolled over to face him. Half of his face was hidden from view, but she still liked what she could see.
The scruff on his jaw was dark and sexy, and the corner of his mouth tempted her to do things she knew she couldn’t.
Her chance had come and gone.
“Jeb,” she whispered, nudging his arm gently with a finger. “I think you really should wake up. I need to figure out how to get back to my room without Lydia discovering I was in here.”
“Huh?” He slowly lifted his head, sleepy eyes blinking rapidly as he attempted to wake up. “Oh. You’re still here, huh?”
Ouch. That was a shot directed straight for the center of her heart.
Was she silly for having thought falling asleep in his bed meant something to him, too?
Anger reared its ugly head as she smacked his arm. “Wake up, you dummy.”
“Ow!” He sat up and stared down at her, confused. “I was kidding! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” She kicked the covers off and got up, hugging her arms around herself protectively. It was a habit—she couldn’t help it. “Lydia wants you downstairs and you need to help me sneak back to my room.”
“Why?”
She forced her eyes to stay on the floor, refusing to watch him and his oh-so-deliciously-naked chest as he got out of bed.
“Because she’ll assume something happened. Do you want her to ask those kinds of questions?”
“Would it really be so bad if she assumed anything?”
Her stomach filled with butterflies and tingles of heat spread through her chest as she turned her head to stare at him, completely caught off guard by his response. “What?”
“Nothing, Ags. I’m just messing with you.”
She wasn’t sure how it was possible for a man to roll out of bed and look as good as Jeb did, but there he was, nailing it.
His hair was getting longer, and that meant it was starting to curl. He usually didn’t let it grow more than an inch or so out, so she was enjoying the shaggy look—and the scruff. The scruff was definitely a bonus.
Stretching his arms over his head and yawning loudly, he placed both feet on the floor and stood, grunting as his back popped.
“Oh, that felt good,” he groaned. “I haven’t slept that good in ages—how did you sleep?”
“Pretty great, actually.” It was really weird to say that. She never slept very well, and hadn’t in a very long time. “Did you know you snore?”
“It’s been proven that geniuses snore.”
“What? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“But it’s true, and I’m a pretty smart guy, don’t you think?” He asked, moving to the tall oak chest in the corner of the room. Pulling it open, he began sorting through it and her eyes were glued to his muscular back.
Surely, it was a sin for a man to look so damn edible.
But she wanted a bite.
Badly.
“Will you help me sneak back into my room or not?” She decided to avoid his question—and the topic of her thoughts on him entirely—as she ran her fingers through her messy hair, hoping to make it look decent.
“What’s your hurry?” He glanced at her over his shoulder, the sunlight hitting his eyes perfectly as it flooded through the window.
Her heart stopped, she was sure of it.
Allowing her gaze to wander down to his perfectly kissable lips, she felt that longing return tenfold. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless, making him realize what he was missing out on.
And what is he missing out on, exactly? A fucked up human being who can’t make up her mind about what she wants to be?
Her mind really sucked sometimes, but she knew that much to be true. There were days when she wasn’t sure who or what she wanted to be.
Jeb couldn’t possibly understand that.
He could never truly love her—the real her.
The truth stung like a bitch.
“Aggie, did you hear me?”
Bl
inking rapidly, she pulled herself out of the dark abyss known as her self-doubt and gazed up into his gorgeous green eyes.
Damn him for being so handsome.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t.” He gave her a lopsided grin and stepped closer.
Unfortunately, he’d put on a shirt during her inner turmoil. What a pity.
“I’m sorry.” A sigh escaped her as she fell back against the bed and covered her face with both hands. “I don’t know how to get out of this mess.”
“What mess?” The mattress bowed with the weight of his body as he sat down beside her, and she knew he was looking at her. “You mean being in my room?”
“I don’t know what I mean,” she mumbled, rolling away from him and burying her face against the covers. “Everything’s a mess.”
“So...you mean your apartment getting ripped to shreds by a tornado?”
“No!” Her head shot up and she stared at him, suddenly annoyed with life. “I couldn’t care less about that stupid apartment. It was too small anyway.”
“Rawr. Ex-cuse me.” He lifted his hands in defense, but there was still a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Seriously though, Aggie—what’s got you riled up all the sudden? Are you really that worried about Lydia knowing you fell asleep in here? It’s not a crime, you know...”
“I know that. I’m not saying that,”—she huffed and hugged her knees to her chest, averting her gaze to her socked feet—“I just worry about other stuff. It’s not really Lydia, or even you; it’s just life in general.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned. “Or do you want to get some coffee first?”
Coffee did sound divine. Plus, it was far too early to talk about her problems—especially with him. He was the last person who needed to know about the storm brewing in her mind; it would only push him further away.
“Coffee’s good,” she finally said, standing from the bed once more. “But you still have to help me get out of here without Lydia knowing. Please?”
“Fine, fine.” He feigned a dramatic sigh and shook his head, giving her an adorable grin. “I’ll help you escape—this time. But you’re going to owe me.”
One of These Days (Prairie Town Book 4) Page 4