by J. Kenner
And now they were both alone.
How the hell was that better? How did being apart make any sense when they were in love? When they were going to have a baby?
She'd moved out that very first night, taking only a single bag with her. She'd returned the next day while he was at work, and he'd come home to find all evidence of her gone. The reality had almost shattered him, but what had truly fucked him up was when Brent had arrived a few minutes later, let himself into the apartment, then settled onto Reece's couch with a beer from Reece's fridge.
And then his friend had had the nerve to tell Reece he needed to take a short leave from The Fix. "You need to stay away until after the contest. Too much stress on Jenna. And Ty and Cam can cover you as manager."
"I have an ownership interest in that place," Reece had said. "I'm not staying away."
"Don't stay away because of the bar. Stay away because of her. She needs space."
"Does she? Well, maybe I need her."
Brent had sighed, then looked at Reece with something like pity. "Don't be an ass, buddy. Not any more than you already have been."
Reece had snapped. "You think I should marry her. You? After everything that happened with Olivia, you're going to champion marriage?" The irony was mind-boggling.
"For the two of you? Yeah, I am. I know you. I know Jenna. And I can see clearly even if you can't."
Reece had walked out of his own apartment. The last thing he'd needed was Brent quarterbacking his life from the sideline.
It had taken him a day or two, but he'd cooled down, and he went to Brent's house to see her. She wasn't there.
"She said she didn't want to put herself between us," Brent said as Reece hoisted Faith, then held her strong little body close. "She's staying with Amanda."
"Did you and Aunt Jenna have a fight?" Faith asked.
"Not a fight," Reece told her. "A philosophical difference."
"What's that?" she'd asked.
"The same thing as a fight, as far as I'm concerned," Brent had said. "The end result sure as hell looks the same."
"Daddy! You said hell."
"Yeah, well, sometimes grownups make mistakes." He took the child from Reece's arms. "Sometimes, they can fix them."
After that, Reece had tried to contact Jenna at Amanda's, but she wouldn't answer his calls or texts, and when he called Amanda's business line, Jenna still wouldn't take his call.
"She says to tell you that she's not punishing you," Amanda assured him. "She sent you an email."
Now, the memory clung to him, still raw and painful. He was sitting at his kitchen table, and he pulled out his phone, then pulled up the flagged email for the billionth time.
Reece,
I'm sorry. I know you've tried to reach me, but I just can't. I swear I'm not trying to punish or hurt you by avoiding you. But the truth is that I want you too much to see you.
The thing is, I know how I feel. How I've always felt, and what I've always wanted. I feel what's right, as if the truth were in my bones. But you can make me forget myself, and if I see you, I might cave. You have a certain effect on me...
But this time, I don't want to give in to your demands, and I can't give you everything you want. I know I said I was yours, and I meant it. I still do. If you want to believe I lied to you, then I'm sorry. But I guess that would mean you lied to me, too.
I know you think it's unfair, and I'm sorry for that, too. It just is what it is. I wish you felt differently, because I love you more than I thought was possible.
Give me time, and we can talk. But know this now - I'm not going to change my mind.
Love forever,
Jenna
He read through the email twice more, then snapped out a curse. Although whether he was cursing himself or Jenna, he didn't know.
But tonight was the calendar contest, and whether she liked it or not, he was going to be there. He had to see her, even if he just watched from the sidelines. He had to see her and decide what the hell he was going to do.
That wasn't for a few more hours, though. Until then? Well, he had a truck, and he had a CD player, and at the end of the day, he was Texas born and bred. He was going to put in a CD—classic country, because the songs had to be about broken hearts and lost dreams—and he was going to drive up to Mount Bonnell, the highest point in the city. He was going to sit there and look at the river and feel like a fool for being in such a romantic spot all by himself.
And, dammit, he was going to think.
Determined, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, only to find his father standing there. He hadn't yet told his dad and Edie about the pregnancy or the fact that Jenna had moved out or about their philosophical difference about marriage. And he didn't want to have that conversation now.
Trouble was, his dad rarely braved the stairs up to the apartment. If he did, it was probably for a heart-to-heart. And that meant that he'd probably noticed Jenna's absence.
"Dad, I—"
"Keep these for me," his dad said, shoving a pack of cigarettes into Reece's hand. "And if you see me with another pack, you call me out. You hear me, son?"
"I—" He glanced down at the pack, and then up to his father. "Yeah, of course. But why?" He'd been on his dad to quit for as long as he could remember.
Something bright lit his father's eyes, but when he answered, he barely smiled. "It's time," his father said. "Sometimes, you just know when it's time to change."
Chapter Nineteen
Tonight was the contest for Mr. January. The first event of The Fix on Sixth's Man of the Month calendar contest.
It was, Jenna knew, probably the single most important event of her career.
And all she wanted to do was go home, crawl under the covers, and go to sleep.
For days, she'd been working her tail off and battling morning sickness. And neither one of those was as hard or as unpleasant as getting through a day without Reece.
"Am I being an idiot?" she asked Brent for the hundredth time. He was doing a security pre-check for the event and had just finished talking to the doorman and the new bouncers they'd hired. The event had gotten so much press and the tickets had sold out so fast that they were expecting an over-capacity crowd. They'd let people in when space opened, but if folks got rowdy on the street, Brent needed to have a plan in place.
"You're not being an idiot," he assured her. "But why don't we talk about this tomorrow when we're past the contest. I mean, maybe that's a crazy suggestion, but I thought since we both have a checklist about a mile long..."
"I know. You're right. I'm sorry."
His pragmatic pep talk pushed her back into a work groove, and she blasted through a ton of last minute details. She'd hired a graduate student from the drama department at the University of Texas to stage manage the contest, because Jenna wanted to be in the audience in order to gauge the reaction and decide if they needed any design changes. Now Taylor walked Jenna through all of her prep. Her long brown hair was pulled back into an efficient ponytail, and as far as Jenna could tell, Taylor had no worries at all about tonight going off without a hitch.
"We've got this," Taylor said. "Trust me, it's going to be amazing."
The staging area was in the back bar, which was closed for the event. Each man would walk up a red carpet that was being laid right then, climb the stage, take off his shirt, and then say a few words to the audience. Jenna anticipated that some of them would strip with a flourish, while others would be a bit more subdued. But she'd seen all of their pictures, and she was confident that none would be a dud.
Jenna considered the event's emcee as the greatest coup. Beverly Martin, who'd recently starred in an indie film that was getting a lot of notice. She'd actually approached Jenna, who'd been afraid that she'd have to emcee the contest herself.
When Jenna had asked Beverly why she wanted the gig—and how she'd heard about it—Beverly had been coy. And since Jenna wasn't an idiot, she didn't push. She just said a silent thank you to what
ever guardian angel was watching over her, then moved on to the next task.
"You'll go over everything with Beverly? Have we got a teleprompter?"
"It's all good. Chill." Taylor's voice held laughter. "There," she said, pointing. "Isn't that the woman you're meeting with for lunch?"
Jenna followed the line of Taylor's finger and found Brooke. She waved, then pointed to the back table, where Aly had already put out a variety of appetizers.
"Any news?" Jenna asked.
"We're on!" Brooke beamed. "The papers with the network are all signed, and Spencer's on board. And all I had to do was sell my soul."
"What?"
Brooke waved the words away. "Ignore me. I was just trying to be funny."
Jenna had the feeling that wasn't exactly accurate, but she didn't press. "At any rate, congratulations. This is a big deal for you, right?"
"It is," Brooke admitted. "And congrats to you, too. We're going to make this place look amazing."
"Win-win," Jenna said, then stood. "I know I promised you lunch, but let's go find Tyree and tell him."
"Sounds good. And I can't stay for lunch anyway. I've got a million details to work on before we get started. But I'll be here tonight for the contest. I can't wait."
They found Tyree in his office, looking as harried as Jenna felt. Her phone rang right after the introduction, and when she saw that it was her mom, she signaled to Tyree, who assured her that he'd answer any of Brooke's questions, then see her out.
"Mom? Everything okay?"
"Of course. I just wanted to call and wish you luck on your big day."
"Thanks." She tried to sound enthusiastic, but it came out a little strangled. It was a big day. It just seemed a lot smaller without Reece beside her.
"All right," her mom said. "Tell me."
Jenna opened her mouth to tell her mother that everything was fine. But instead, she heard herself asking, "If Doug had wanted to just live with you, would you have done it?"
"Oh, I think so. We're a good match, and it's not like we're going to be starting a family."
"So if you'd met him when he was younger before either of you had kids, you would have insisted on getting married? What if he didn't want to?"
"Jenna, sweetheart. What's going on?"
They were the magic words that opened the floodgate, and she started to tell her mom everything, beginning with the fact that she and Reece were in love.
"But sweetheart, that's wonderful. You know I adore Reece. I always thought you two would make a great couple."
"He doesn't want to get married."
"With his father as a role-model, I'm not sure I blame him."
"But I—" She cut herself off before mentioning the baby. That deserved a longer, more intimate call. Possibly even a weekend trip to Florida for an in-person announcement and celebration. "But it's important to me. And he just completely discounts that."
"Sounds like you're discounting his perspective, too."
"I know, but—"
"Look, baby. I know it's hard. It's especially hard to wrap your mind around the fact that just because you found somebody who's perfect doesn't mean that everything about what they think and feel and do will be perfect. Relationships are about compromise. I think you should sit down and decide which is more important to you. Sticking to your guns or having Reece beside you."
"In other words, you're saying he wins."
Her mom laughed. "Since when did you revert to an eight-year-old? No, I'm not. I'm saying that you're the only one who can say. And maybe you've already made that decision. But the fact that we're having this conversation makes me think you're on the fence. So have a nice sit-down with yourself, and figure out which side of the fence you're going to climb down on."
"I love you, Mom," she said, because as painful as it might be to hear, everything her mom said was true. Especially when she considered that Reece was waiting for her on one side of the fence, his arms spread wide to hold her and keep her safe.
As soon as the call with her mom ended, Jenna dialed Reece, but he didn't answer. Jenna told herself that wasn't a bad omen, but when she tried three more times throughout the day and still got nothing, a sick feeling started to grow in her stomach. Had she waited too long? Had she screwed around and lost the best thing that ever happened to her?
"I need to go," she whispered to Brent, who looked at her like she'd grown two heads. "I need to find Reece."
"In case it escaped your notice, we're starting the contest in fifteen minutes."
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling frantic. "But I have to tell him—"
"Jenna." Brent's voice was harsh and no-nonsense.
She froze. "I'm losing it, aren't I?"
"Just a little. Come here." He pulled her into a hug. "Look, I know this thing with Reece is hard, but he's still going to be an asshole later tonight or tomorrow morning. Find him then," Brent continued, as Jenna giggled. "Right now, we have a contest about to start, the press in the audience, and a video crew from the local news ready to put together what we hope is one hell of a story. So get it together, okay? Because you need to enjoy this amazing event you organized."
"Right," she said. "I know."
But try as she might, she couldn't focus. Thank goodness she'd delegated. Everyone had a key job except her, as she'd planned to simply watch the audience. Fortunately, she'd asked a few others to do the same, because she was only hearing about half of what Beverly was saying on stage, and only noticing flashes of the buff, shirtless men who paraded up the red carpet and then across the stage.
Or, she was only half-paying attention until she heard Beverly say, "We have one last-minute contestant." Then Jenna started to stand, because what the hell? But Beverly kept talking, and Jenna had to sit again, because her knees were too weak to support her.
"A man who'd initially turned down an invitation to compete in the contest, but I know you all will be happy he changed his mind. Please welcome Reece Walker!"
The music started, and the crowd applauded as Reece strode down the red carpet, climbed the stairs to the stage, and pulled off his shirt—to the absolute delight of the women in the audience.
Reece smiled and flexed his muscles, but Jenna knew him well enough to know he was just going through the motions. What he was really doing was searching the crowd.
He was looking for her.
She wanted to wave. To stand. To do something. But she was too numb. She had no idea what he was doing up there, but she sat glued to her seat, desperate to find out.
"So I guess this is the part where I say something," Reece said. "And I should start by saying that I'm not actually up here to be a contestant. That's why I'm not on your ballot. But I have something to say to someone, and this was the best way I could think of to do it. And since I'm a manager here at The Fix, I have a little pull. So please, don't let my theatrics draw your attention away from our amazing contestants."
He cleared his throat and shifted his stance. To the audience, he probably looked cool and confident. But Jenna could see the nerves.
"I'm here tonight to apologize. To tell the woman I love that I screwed up. That I was so busy staying stuck in my ways and looking at the world through one boring lens, that I forgot to shift around and change my perspective."
He drew a breath. "The thing is, love is supposed to open us up, not close us off. I let my fears blot that out. I've been with the wrong woman so many times that I was scared to admit the right one was in my arms. And I was looking at other people and judging our relationship by them.
"I'm not saying it'll be easy," he continued. "It'll probably be hard at times. But I know it will be an adventure. Love always is, right? Anyway, I should have written this down, because I'm getting lost in my words. I'm not a speaker, and I don't particularly like being on stage. But I had to say this tonight, right now, because I couldn't wait any longer to tell her that I love her. Jenna Montgomery, I love you. I want you. More than that I need you. And eve
n though I screwed up, I'm hoping that you will do me the very great honor of agreeing to be my wife."
She couldn't move. Her body was frozen to the chair, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. And when the spotlight found her—she was going to kill Taylor!—all she could do was nod like an idiot and soundlessly mouth, I love you.
Around her, the crowd burst into applause and Reece leaped off the stage, then hurried to her. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her as he continued toward the back of the bar, and the whole place was on its feet around her, laughing and applauding as Beverly, bless her, took control of the crowd.
He took her through the bar and then outside to the alley where he finally—finally—put her down and kissed her hard, the feel of him against her almost making her melt all over again.
"I can't live without you," he said when they came up for air. "I'm sorry I was a jerk."
"You weren't. I was. I don't want to force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I've been calling you all day to tell you that. I just want the two of us."
He pressed his hand to her belly. "Three."
"Yeah," she said, putting her hand over his. "Three."
They kissed again, long and lingering. "I mean it," she said, cupping his face because she had to keep touching him. Had to claim that connection. "I'm okay with not getting married. It's you I want, Reece. Only you."
"I know. I believe you. But you want a wedding, too. And I want to give it to you."
He dropped to one knee, then held out a small box. "I already asked on stage, but now I'm asking just you. Jenna Montgomery, will you marry me?"
"You bought me a ring?" It was a foolish question considering she'd opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire.
"It was my grandmother's. If you don't like it—"