I glanced down at my hands in my lap. Nothing had really changed between me and Jameson since I’d broken up with Kelvin. We both knew I was single. We still spent time together, just like we had before. But if anything, Jameson seemed less interested in me, not more. He certainly never acted like he wanted more than friendship.
It was better than nothing—I loved having Jameson in my life—but also hard. Spending time with him was great, but this unrequited crush I had made my heart ache.
“Yeah, Dad, that’s so,” I said.
I’d spent the last few weeks working on projects around my dad’s house with Betsy. We’d gotten the yard into better shape and fixed a few things inside. Scarlett had come over and replaced the sagging boards on the porch and the steps. Then I’d repainted the whole thing. It looked great.
When I wasn’t with my dad—either keeping him company or helping him around the house—I was with Jameson, or the girls. Scarlett, Cassidy, and even June had welcomed me into their circle. We’d been out for drinks or coffee a bunch of times. Scarlett seemed to be trying to take me under her wing and ease me back into single life—and life in Bootleg.
My phone rang, and I checked to see who was calling. “I’m sorry, I need to take this. It’s Evelyn Peters, my lawyer.”
“That sounds ominous,” he said.
“I hope not. I’ll be right back.”
I’d called Evelyn after breaking up with Kelvin to get her assistance in dealing with my contract. She’d offered to reach out to her contacts in the industry to help me find new representation, so I hoped she’d have good news. I got up and walked out to my car to take the call.
“Hi, Evelyn,” I said when I answered.
“Leah,” she said. “How’s America’s least favorite reality TV star?”
I groaned. “I was fine until you reminded me.”
She laughed. “I guess if you believe that any press is good press, you’re in great shape.”
“Do you believe that?” I asked.
“No.”
I always appreciated Evelyn’s blunt honesty. “Me neither.”
“I have good news and bad news,” she said. “The good news is, Crown Talent Agency is interested in representing you.”
“Wow, that is good news,” I said. “What’s the bad news?”
“You need to come out here,” she said. “Tomorrow, so you can meet with them Friday morning.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” she said. “Crown Talent is big league, Leah. You won’t get another shot with them.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wasn’t expecting to have to come out there on such short notice.”
“You busy out there in Radiator Springs?” she asked.
“Bootleg Springs,” I said with a laugh. “And it’s not that. This is just… unexpected.”
“Leah, you broke up with your agent, hence fired your agency, which has left you unrepresented,” she said. “You’re hated in the media, although the show is doing phenomenally thanks to the drama. How much of that is real, by the way? Off the record.”
“It’s all fake,” I said. “I didn’t sleep with Brock Winston. And I know how to catch a freaking fish.”
“I figured. But you never know. I’ve seen a lot of crap over the years.”
“I’m sure you have,” I said. “I’m getting tired of not being able to say anything about it, though. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve almost posted the truth all over social media.”
“God, Leah, don’t do that,” she said. “Trust me, you do not want to go up against Verity Studios in a breach of contract suit. They’ll bury you alive.”
“My reputation is shot,” I said. “The country basically hates me.”
“Is your pride worth your life savings? That’s what we’re talking about here. They’ll ruin you. Keep your mouth shut and your fingers off those keys. Once you’re signed with Crown, they’ll get PR going on damage control. In the long run, you’ll probably be okay.”
I knew she was right, but I still didn’t like it. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Good. I took the liberty of booking you a flight out tomorrow,” she said. “It’s early, and out of Washington Dulles. You might want to drive out tonight and stay in a hotel.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“Technically, my assistant did it. But I figured I’d make it easier for you, considering you’re going it alone at the moment.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have bristled at that, but I didn’t like the idea that she thought I was helpless without Kelvin. “I do appreciate your help, but just because I don’t have an agent doesn’t mean I can’t make a flight reservation.”
“Okay, Leah Larkin has her big girl panties on,” she said, and I relaxed at the note of humor in her voice. “Noted, and good for you. On a personal note, how are you?”
“I’m okay, I think. Honestly, I haven’t watched the show since the supposed blow job incident. And I’ve been trying to ignore all the talk online.”
“Don’t read any of it,” she said. “It’ll go away eventually, and in the meantime, you’ll just torture yourself.”
“I know,” I said. “And I realize breaking up with Kelvin leaves me in a bind, but I was just done.”
“Honey, you don’t have to justify yourself to me,” she said. “I never liked Kelvin. I’m glad you’re not marrying that cheap son of a bitch.”
I laughed. Blunt honesty. “Thanks, I think?”
“I just wish my son would take a page from your book and get his head out of his ass,” she said. Her son was my age, and she was forever lamenting his bad relationship choices. “I swear, Leah, I don’t care that he’s gay, but he has worse taste in men than you. It’s too bad he’s not straight. The two of you would be great together.”
I laughed again. “Too bad. But thanks.”
“My assistant will email your flight details,” she said.
“Okay. Thanks, Evelyn.”
“You’re welcome.”
I hung up and let out a long breath. Back to L.A. I’d known that was coming. Evelyn was right, I did need new representation, and Crown Talent Agency was one of the best. I was shocked they were willing to meet with me, although Evelyn had a lot of contacts. She’d obviously pulled some strings.
A last-minute trip to L.A. wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the end of the world. I’d meet with the agency, make sure any legal loose ends with my contract with Kelvin were handled, and then…
And then, what? Come back to Bootleg?
It would depend on my work schedule, if there was any work to be had. Landing another agency wouldn’t guarantee they could get me any gigs—modeling, acting or otherwise. Everything was up in the air. I didn’t have a permanent place to live, or a long-term plan. I’d have to figure out everything, and I didn’t know how Bootleg Springs fit into any of it.
I didn’t know how Jameson fit into any of it.
Jameson. The thought of leaving him made me slightly ill. I wouldn’t be able to swing by his shop to see how his piece was coming. Meet him for sandwiches and take them down to the lake. Go out scrap hunting or help him pull apart that old car he’d found.
I could still keep in touch, and I certainly would. I wasn’t going to let our friendship fade away like I had when we were younger. But I hated the idea of not being able to see him all the time.
I brought up his number and sent him a text.
Me: I have to go back to L.A. Flight leaves in the morning. I’m going to Washington tonight and getting a hotel.
There was a long pause before he replied.
Jameson: Sorry to hear that. Will you be gone long?
Me: Not sure. Depends on a lot of things.
Another long pause.
Jameson: Do you need a ride?
Me: Thanks, but I have to return this rental car anyway.
Jameson: OK, just thought I’d offer.
I chewed on my lower lip, wondering what else I sho
uld say.
Me: I’ll text you when I get there.
Jameson: Please do.
Me: Thanks for everything. I had fun.
Jameson: Me too. We’ll talk soon.
Me: OK
There were a million other things I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I put my phone down and got out of the car to go tell my dad the news. I needed to find a hotel room. Go back to the cabin and pack. Let Scarlett know I was leaving. And I had a long day of travel tomorrow.
18
Jameson
And just like that, she was gone.
The morning after Leah Mae told me she was leaving, I woke up early to a summer rain storm. It was fitting. The sky was covered with gray clouds and water pattered against the roof. Ran in rivulets down the windows. The weather matched my mood.
Jonah dragged me through a workout before breakfast. I was quiet, and he didn’t ask questions. Jonah was good like that. Seemed to be able to tell when I didn’t feel like talking. That done, I went out to my workshop. I figured I’d get a good start on the work I wanted to do on my piece today.
I’d barely gotten started when my phone rang. It was Deanna.
“Hey, Dee,” I said.
“Good morning,” she said. “How’s the piece coming?”
I walked a slow circle around my sculpture, glad she couldn’t see me wince. Parts of it were coming along fine, but there was something missing, and I was struggling to figure out what.
“It’s lookin’ good.”
“Will you send me some pictures?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She groaned. “Jameson, it’s not that I don’t believe you that you’re making good progress, but…”
“But you don’t believe me.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I make a living dealing with artists,” she said. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and I’ve learned the hard way not to take the artist’s word for it when it comes to meeting deadlines.”
“All right, I’ll send a picture.” I held out the phone and tapped the screen to open the camera. Found an angle that made it look more finished, took a quick picture, and texted it to Dee. “Get that?”
“Hang on.”
I was hit by a sudden rush of nerves. I hated showing my pieces to people before they were finished. In some ways, I hated showing my work at all. Not that I wanted to hide it away and keep it to myself. But showing what I’d created always left me feeling so intensely vulnerable. I was never sure how to cope with the rawness.
“Wow, this is different from what I was expecting,” she said. “But it’s beautiful.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and shifted on my feet. “Yeah, I reckon it’s coming along.”
“Whatever you have going on out there that inspired this, keep it up,” she said. “This is unlike anything you’ve done before, but Jameson, it’s going to be incredible. I can see it already.”
“Thanks, Dee. Appreciate that.”
“Okay, I’ll let you get back to work,” she said. “And don’t forget about the unveiling in Charlotte.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” she said with a laugh. “And get back to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I ended the call and put my phone in my back pocket. Kept eying the sculpture.
It wasn’t what I’d planned to make for this client. When I’d started this commission, I’d had something more abstract in mind. A statement piece that would be decorative and beautiful, but less organic. More modern, like the building it would front.
But after watching Leah Mae on that show a few times, I hadn’t been able to get the image out of my head—Leah Mae, locked in a cage. An angel behind bars, her light dimmed. Didn’t seem to matter how hard I tried to concentrate on something else, that was all I saw. A beautiful angel with her hands gripping the bars, her wings faltering.
But something was missing, and I didn’t know what. It was driving me a bit crazy. I knew it needed more—wouldn’t look finished otherwise—but I didn’t know what the missing element was.
Dee’s reassurance helped a little, but I was still anxious about it. It was so personal. I always put myself into my work, but this was different—raw and real.
It had been terrifying to show it to Leah Mae. I’d been so afraid she’d be able to tell what it was—that it was her. She’d walked around the unfinished piece and I could have sworn I saw recognition in her eyes. Maybe even understanding. It was like she could feel it the way I did. Like she had a sense of what I was creating, and she could see herself in the piece.
But there I went thinking about Leah Mae again. I did my best to put her out of my head and got to work.
By mid-afternoon, it was time for a break. I also needed some things from the hardware store, so I changed into clean clothes and drove into town.
Without the distraction of my work, the first thing to come to mind was Leah Mae. I’d been beating myself up over her since I’d gotten her text yesterday. There were times in life when you had to take a chance. When you had to grab a situation—or in this case, a girl—and take the risk. And I hadn’t. I’d let it slip through my fingers, and now my chance was gone.
It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been single for long. Or that I had no reason to believe she’d stay in Bootleg much longer. I shouldn’t have let those things stop me. There were uncertainties, but I’d let them get the better of me. I could have kicked myself for it.
How many times could I have stopped what I was doing and kissed her? We’d spent enough time together over the last month or so, I’d had dozens of opportunities. So many moments when our eyes had met and we’d both gone quiet.
I had no idea what she’d been thinking. Hell, she could have been hoping I wouldn’t kiss her. Maybe she’d already decided we were better off as friends, and me kissing her would have been a huge mistake.
I still wished I had taken that risk.
My hands were tight on the steering wheel as I drove into town. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I was with myself. My dad’s voice echoed loud in my head. Telling me I was too sensitive. That I needed to toughen up. Maybe he’d been right about that.
I got into town, heading for the Rusty Tool. I was about to pull into the parking lot, when something caught my eye further up the road. It couldn’t be her—I must’ve been seeing things—but I kept going nonetheless.
Wavy blond hair hanging beneath a sun hat. Denim jacket over a loose blue dress. Long, graceful legs. Delicate hands holding a bag. She turned toward me and oh my god, it was her.
My tires screeched across the pavement as I stopped in the middle of the street, not a care in the world for whether someone might drive up behind me. They could go around. With my truck still running, I opened the door and jumped out.
Leah Mae’s eyes widened as I walked toward her. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but I was a man on a mission, and this time, I was not going to fail.
Without a word, I slipped one hand around her waist and cupped her cheek with the other. And I just fucking kissed her.
Her lips were as soft and sweet as I’d always imagined. Pliant and yielding against mine. At first my kiss was hard, my mouth decisive and forceful against hers—my hand holding her tight against me. I sold out. Laid all my cards on the table.
She gasped and stiffened but within a heartbeat, she relaxed, her body softening against me. I moved my lips, capturing more of hers. Our heads tilted and the desperation in my kiss melted into a mix of sweetness and passion. Of gentle softness and heart-racing intensity.
There was something happening around us—voices, feet shuffling. But I didn’t pay them any mind. Now that I’d started kissing her, there was no way I was going to stop. I didn’t care who saw or how much the town talked. This was my moment—our moment. I’d waited so long for this.
19
Leah Mae
Jameson Bodine was kissing me.
>
No, not just kissing me. Melting me. Making my knees weak and my legs tremble. I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better—that this moment had come to the brink of perfection—he parted my lips with his tongue and took the kiss deeper.
The caress of his velvety tongue felt like magic, and sparks danced across my skin. I had no idea what was happening around me. It was as if nothing had existed before this—before Jameson’s mind-numbing kiss.
I wound my arms around his shoulders and pressed myself against him. Kissed him back with everything I had.
Gradually, he took the kiss from deep to shallow. The slow dance of our tongues became light kisses against soft lips. His fingers caressed my cheek and his strong arm held me tight.
Our mouths separated, but we stayed close, our noses brushing together.
“I thought you were gone,” he said, his voice quiet.
“I came back.”
He surged in, kissing me again, and my hat fell off behind me.
“Leah Mae, I don’t know what happened or why you’re back,” he said, caressing my cheek again. “But I have something very important that I need to talk to you about.”
“What the hell, Bodine?” a voice called from the street. “Move your damn truck.”
Jameson cracked a smile and called over his shoulder, “Hold on a second.” He turned back to me and ran his thumb across my lips, his touch making me tremble. “Will you come with me?”
I tried to say yes, but my voice wouldn’t come, so I just nodded.
He clasped my hand in his and led me to his truck. It was parked in the middle of the street, still running, the driver’s side door wide open. Vaguely, I was aware of people on the street watching us. But it was hard to think. Jameson had just kissed the hell out of me and my head was spinning.
We got in his truck and he drove the short distance to the beach. It had been raining off and on all day, and clouds still hung low in the sky. The lake looked deserted.
Jameson parked and turned off the engine. He shifted so he was facing me. “God, Leah Mae, I have something to say, but all I want to do right now is kiss you again.”
Sidecar Crush (Bootleg Springs Book 2) Page 14