Jack.
I watched him slide the hood back and saw he was sporting hair that was probably an inch long instead of his normal long layers.
I turned my eyes quickly back to the trees, preventing my gaze from hitting his. I was not going there again.
"Hey, Jack," I murmured from behind my mug, almost biting my lip in an effort to not offer him a cup of coffee. Trying to sound breezy, casual. You know, like we ran into each other every day. "Nice morning, huh?"
He didn't reply as I saw him drop his ass to the step on the far side of me, his elbows on his knees, his fists to his mouth.
We were quiet and the vibe in that still air was…easy.
"I heard you're selling the farm," I offered when he didn't answer.
"Nope," he replied.
Oh, really.
"So, you're not living in Southern Cali, then?" I questioned, schooling my voice to remain friendly, calm and, kind of, disinterested.
I'd give myself a four out of ten, with two of those points being for the actual effort.
"Nope, never have been," he stated firmly, not even glancing my way. I watched for it, too, using my peripheral vision.
Okay, that was a shock that reverberated through me, causing the coffee to slosh in my cup. Had Sarge lied to me or had Jack lied to Grandpop?
"So, where've you been?" I asked and finally chanced a head-turned glance his way hoping he wasn't looking at me. My luck wasn't that good.
"Here. Waiting for you," he again spoke firmly, our eyes catching and holding.
"Me?" Even I heard the squeak in my voice.
"Yeah, Lace. You," he breathed from behind his knuckles and turned his eyes to the trees across the road.
There was silence between us, except not in my mind. My brain whirled, spun and jigged its way across the planes, those multi-layers that I tended to think in.
"I see you cut your hair," I offered, taking another sip from my cup.
"You used to play with it and I couldn't take the reminder," he said simply from behind his hands.
And the nice quiet again settled around us, less easy yet deeper somehow.
"Are you done being pissed at me?" he asked, his voice remaining hushed and still.
"I, ah…" I started, but closed my lips firmly. I didn't know how to answer him. True, I had been pissed. However, I had also been hurt, damaged and in pain.
"I don't know how many ways there are of saying sorry, and if you tell me the right one, I'll say it. Or I'll say all of them if that's what you need to hear. I'm sorry, I was so fucking wrong, Lace," he continued. "There's no excuse for what I said, for what I did."
I turned my eyes back to watch the trees. Those trees had given me comfort in the past and I was counting on that ease now.
"I'm a bag of shit, Lace, and I know you know it."
I couldn't disagree on so many different levels.
"But, Baby, I want to be your bag of shit," he continued.
I heard him take a deep, deep breath as my new heart started a fast, hard drumming.
"Grams taught me that even shit could be useful, though. That spread just right, evenly over the soil, even flowers will give their all when they bloom," his voice kept going, before it finally stopped.
I didn't respond because I didn't understand his point.
"So, I'm supposed to help you sort your shit out?" I asked, and could feel the skin of my forehead tighten as my eyebrows raised over the top of my mug, clenched in both my hands.
"Never, my love," he said, letting the air in his lungs go. "I'll sort. You spread."
I looked back out over the trees, watching the sunlight catch and shimmer as they swayed in the fall breeze, as I thought about what he was saying, what he was offering.
"I can get pretty handy with a rake," I admitted, taking another sip, the last sip of my cup.
I glanced at him and, again our eyes caught and held.
"So, you want me to fire up Bertha so you have something in that mug you've been hiding behind?" he asked with a tilted grin.
"She seems to be the only bitch you can handle," I replied, seeing the love in his eyes and feeling the new growth in my chest begin to unfurl and tenderly, with just a hopeful breath, branch out.
"Damn straight," he said, his mouth pulling up into his gorgeous smile that the paps loved to capture. "I heard rumors about you, too. About you selling this mall."
"Me, sell?" I shot back. "No. I had an offer and I declined. I like the Bakery."
"Because of the baking and the magic?" he ventured.
"I don't believe in magic anymore, Jack," I answered slowly and saw him stiffen. The air around us, which had been airy and uncomplicated changed with my admission.
"Did I do that, Lace? Did I make you lose the magic?" he asked, his voice stricken.
"Maybe. I don't know," I let out a long sigh, trying to think of a way to explain it. "I've finally figured out that magic is only sleight of hand, manipulating your audience so they are looking one direction while what's real, what's true, is going on some other place."
"What about that love connection kind of magic?" he asked slowly.
I pressed my lips together.
He would have to bring that up.
Stupid ass-hat.
"The falling in love kind of magic that happens, Lace, did you lose it, too?" he asked, his voice so tight.
"Everybody falls," I said to the trees. "It's the standing up from it, the getting over the fall that's so hard."
I glanced at him and saw he was staring at me.
"I still love you, Lace," he said as the connection, our connection snapped right into place like it had never been broken.
I turned my eyes back to the trees with effort.
"You and Grams taught me about magic, honesty and love. You both taught me about calm, peace and good," he said and I felt him turn back towards the street to watch the trees with me. "I was just slower at understanding the lessons. Of making them a part of my heart. I think I've got it now."
"I'm glad for you, Jack," I murmured, meaning every word, every syllable.
"I'm glad for me, too, Lace," he mumbled back. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"I already have," I said slowly, knowing I needed to give the words and how he needed to hear them. "The night of the concert."
"Except, you can't forget, can you?" he said, and his voice held an unreleased sigh.
"Probably not," I agreed. "The end was, uhm, the end was pretty bad for me."
"I heard and I'm so sorry," he whispered again.
"Yeah, well," I answered just to give an acknowledgment. "The thing is…"
"I fucked up," he replied, resignation in his voice and even his body language.
"Yeah, you did," I agreed. "But I don't think you understand how."
I saw him motion for me to continue as he dropped his fists from his mouth to his knees.
Did he really want to hear this?
At that moment, I really didn't care. There was a weed in my chest that had prevented my heart from re-growing as fast as it should and now was the time to pull it out from the roots.
"I know you were drunk and high there at the end. I've seen it enough times to recognize it, but that can be something you can get help with once you get clean." I took a deep breath for the next part.
"You were hurtful, though, Jack. You deliberately tried to hurt me and it worked. It worked so damn well. So, tell me. How does a person get help for being deliberately cruel?" I asked gently, as I chanced another glance.
He looked confused.
"People that love each other don't have the right to mock, make fun of or yell about the stuff their partner can't help," I continued. "I never thought to poke at you about how Denny held you down, how you were having to learn to grow up in your twenties and how you didn't have control over your life in hardly any way. Except, you had no problem yelling about my lack of experience, things you thought I should've known since I'm just a whore's daughter."
&nb
sp; I saw him cringe as his fists went back to his mouth.
"I can't help that Belinda is my mother," I said firmly. "I have no control over her life and never had. I do, however, have control over my own. I get to choose the life I want and the person I want to be. And, I chose not to be her in any way, shape or form. Not with the drugs, the sexual experience and certainly not with her irresponsibility."
"I am so sor--," he began.
"Be quiet and listen," I ground out and felt my hands clench around my now cold mug. "If you say sorry one more time…"
"But, Lace, they're the only words I've got. I don't know any others to tell you how badly I feel about it all," he cried.
Didn't the man ever shut up?
As if reading my thoughts, he used both hands to cover his mouth.
"Using words to hurt and then trying to use words to heal the hurt you've caused doesn't work, Jack," I instructed slowly, and felt my anger as it began to drain away.
It was just too hard to remain angry and, truthfully, took way too much energy.
He turned his head to me and our eyes caught again. In his, I read sorrow, contrition and his own brand of pain which I think my speaking plainly had generated.
I had no clue what he saw in mine.
Our eye clasp went on for a long time. A long, long damn time.
Jack was the one who's eyes dropped first, disconnecting the look we shared.
He stood and stretched a bit before moving down the steps. His body did a quarter turn and he looked at me again.
"I get it, Lace. I won't bother you again," he said before he pointed forward and took a couple of steps.
I watched him as he strode away, watching those long legs move determinedly away from me. The new growth in my chest ached as it shriveled with every step he took before I straightened myself and turned back to the store.
It was for the best.
"I forgot something," he called and I angled my head over my shoulder to see him. He was holding a hand up to his eyes to shade them from the bright November sun that was pointed directly in his face.
I watched as he crossed the street, bounded up the stairs and stood in front of me as he reached in his pocket.
"Grams left you something," he said, taking a half step closer. "Something she wanted you to have."
"Me?" I asked, my eyes roaming over his face.
"Yeah, Lace, you," he confirmed with a gentle smile. "She specifically told me she wanted you to have it. I'm sorry I haven't brought it over before."
My mind raced. Edie left me something, a piece of her to treasure. We had shared so much in that time I'd spent with her out on that farm. A time I'd never forget.
"Hold out your hand, Baby," Jack instructed, his voice still and hushed.
I glanced up and what I saw in his eyes caused a double-thump within me.
Bending my arm, I held my hand out, palm up. His fist touched my skin lightly as he released his fingers. I glanced down and saw the ruby ring from the wooden box that Edie and I had discovered so long ago.
"It was my grandma Stacia's ring," I heard Jax murmur. "Grams told me that it would be perfect for you."
I swallowed thickly, my eyes filling as I stared at the ring.
"I can't accept this," I whispered. "This is part of your family, Jack."
He didn't say anything yet continued to stand close to me, near enough that I could feel the heat of his body in the chilly morning air. Without trying to stop it, my gaze moved from my hand to his face.
He was staring at me, his eyes glowing and intense.
"When my life started, it was because of love and when I grew into a little boy it was filled with love," he was speaking low and very seriously. "My therapist says most of our emotional development happens before we're five. Maybe that's true. Because I recognized love when it finally came back into my life, with you. With Grams."
He looked back down at the jeweled circle of gold resting in my palm.
"I loved you, Lace, when we started. I loved you the best I knew how, except I didn't understand how you could love me. I used to pray not to fuck it up, to be worthy of you," he whispered.
"Oh, Jack," I said, the unfurling in my chest a different kind of ache than before.
His beautiful brown eyes rose back up to mine.
"I tried to love you when I didn't even like, much less love myself. And that's a disaster waiting to happen," he explained. "I waited to contact you until I felt like I was worthy. Until I wasn't so goddamn scared of fucking things up again."
"I thought you said you were waiting on me," I corrected.
"Yeah, that too," he admitted with a chuckle.
Our voices fell quiet as I thought about what he'd said.
"Everybody screws up, Jack," I murmured, my eyes back on the gold ring in my hand.
"I know, Lace," he replied with a nod. "Grams tried to tell me that all the time. She said it wasn't so much the hurt or the pain we've given or received, it's how we react to it."
She'd said something similar to me about the Tommy situation.
"I treated you badly when I was hurting," he continued. "Which was so wrong. So fucking wrong."
He looked again at the ring.
"Please accept it, Baby, if for no other reason than she wanted you to have it," he said softly.
My eyes moved from the beauty of his face back down to the ring.
"I promised her something," I confessed. "I promised Edie that I would be a part of your life. To help you when you stumbled. I believe her exact words were, 'Look out for my Jax'."
"I didn't help you keep that promise very well, did I?" he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. I glanced up and saw the smile leave his face. "I meant what I said, Lacey. I'll go away and not bother you anymore."
His eyes met mine and they were sad, so very sad. "But I will love you until I die."
I couldn't help my body as everything he'd said, everything he'd confessed, sunk deep within me. I stepped forward, closing that small distance between us and dropped my head to his chest as the tears streamed from my eyes.
"Hey," I heard him call quietly. He raised his arms and I felt one hand as it rubbed my back. "Oh, fuck. Lace? I didn't mean to make you cry. Honest. Oh shit. Baby?"
I raised my face to his and saw him angle down so he could look at me.
"I asked for something too, Jack. You might call it a prayer. I asked for the hurt to go away and the love to go away, too," I admitted on a whisper. "But, only one of them did."
He went completely motionless. "Which one?"
"The hurt," I acknowledged from a place deep, deep inside. If he could be honest, then I owed it to us both to do the same.
"Thank, Christ," he breathed. "But, wait. That means, ah…Lacey?"
His arms tightened around me and I raised my own to wrap around him, the ring clenched tightly in my fist.
"Yeah, honey. It does," I admitted.
We were quiet and his body slowly released its tension.
"Say it for me?" he begged, into that quiet morning air. "Please?"
"I love you, Jack."
Chapter 33
Jax felt his heart leap in his chest at her words. Words he thought he'd never fucking hear from her again in his life.
Without over thinking what he wanted to do, what he was dying to do, he bent his head. He moved slowly nearer to her face, his eyes on her beautiful mouth before he raised his eyes back to hers.
Would she let him?
His lips finally, lightly touched hers, and he closed his eyes at the feel of her mouth.
One of her arms moved up and curled around his neck as she pressed closer, adding more pressure before he felt her lips open slightly. That small motion was so totally Lacey and was a movement he knew signaled her acceptance, her acquiescence.
Oh, hell, yeah.
He slanted his mouth as his heart rate increased, opening his lips. Tenderly, he licked just the inside edge of hers as his tongue moved forward.
S
he moaned as she pressed against him even harder, their tongues touching and beginning their delicious, slow dance.
Time and place had no meaning for him as he lost himself in their kiss, pouring everything he hadn't said, everything he wanted to say into their mouth's joining. He had no clue how long they stood there, wrapped around each other, connected by their tongues' sweet twining.
Jax could've kissed her for-fucking-ever.
Lace, beneath his hands and against his mouth, felt like heaven and tasted of home.
She pulled away and his mind screamed at the loss of her mouth, her touch.
"I've got things in the oven," she explained, her breath hitching as she spoke. She turned her head and glanced into the shop. "I didn't hear the timer, did you?"
He released his hands as she moved away and his stomach dropped at the loss. She stopped and turned at the swinging half-doors of the kitchen, shooting him a glance. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah, Baby," he said, trying to get his body to move. "Right behind you."
She was already taking the trays out of the oven when he made his way to the Bakery's kitchen.
"Oops! Looks like these are ruined," she said, turning shining eyes and her amazing smile to him.
Jax glanced at the tray she was holding out. They looked fine to him.
"The oven must be broken," she giggled on a quiet note.
He glanced at her face, trying to understand what she was trying to say.
"Guess I'll have to close the shop for today. Just until the oven is fixed," she explained, dropping the tray on the big farmhouse table and pulling the other trays out of the oven.
Jax heard the timer ding and shot his eyes back to Lace.
"Could you lock the doors and put up the closed signs?" he heard her ask, the note of laughter still caught in her voice.
Wait…what?
She wasn't going to open today?
Still up in his head, still in the thrall of their kiss, Jax didn't get it. It wasn't until he shot the last lock, propped the last sign up in the old, boarded up window in back that it hit him.
Lacey was closing her business to spend time with him, the day with him.
Holy fuck.
She joined him in the small hallway, her thumbs flying on her cellphone before she shoved it in her hoodie's pocket.
Everybody Falls Page 27