Page 15 of Tactically Tied

"Just go, Jed. Please."

Something flickered in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place. He held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, his expression softening. "All right."

And with that, he sped off, leaving her standing on the sidewalk. For a long moment, she stood there and watched his taillights disappearing down the street. Had he just left her?

Yes, he had. But that's what she’d wanted him to do. Right?

Jami let out a long breath, thankful for the space but already missing his presence more than she wanted to admit.

It was for the best, though. She needed to clear her head. This marriage was already proving inconvenient, and they hadn’t even made it past the courthouse yet. She couldn’t think straight with him around, couldn’t trust herself not to get swept up in the heat of the moment again.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Jami made it to her family's restaurant. She stepped inside, the familiar scent of garlic and ginger hitting her senses, comforting and grounding. The air was cool, and for a moment, she let herself relax, thinking she had finally gotten away from him.

But then she saw him.

Jed was sitting at one of the tables, waiting for her, looking far too calm, far too smug. He was still devastating in that military uniform, and Jami wasn't the only one who noticed. Women were gawking at him over their chopsticks.

He didn't appear to notice. He patted the empty seat beside him. Jami had the urge to go to him. To sit next to him. Maybe even in his lap. She couldn't remember why she had decided Jed Winchester was her enemy.

But then she saw Jacqui. Even worse, Jacqui saw Jed. That's when Jami remembered where the animosity had come from.

Jed was a Winchester. The third of his name. Jed Winchester the first and Jun Chou, Jami's grandfather, had had a bitter rivalry that had started at neighborhood cookouts and barbecues.

At first, there was respect, a mutual admiration for the other’s talent. Winchester’s famous smoky barbecue sauce versus Chou’s perfectly balanced marinades. But as neighbors began to take sides—some swearing by Chou’s sticky ribs, others singing praises of Winchester’s melt-in-your-mouth brisket—their friendly competition had morphed into something far more intense.

By the time Jed and Jami were kids, the rivalry had escalated into an all-out war of flavors. Every summer cookout became a battleground, each man trying to outdo the other, one-upping recipes, perfecting seasoning blends and getting more elaborate with their smoker setups. Chou introduced exotic Asian spices to his marinades, drawing from his family’s deep culinary roots, while Winchester stuck to his old-school methods, enhancing his secret sauce with subtle smoky notes from wood chips passed down through generations.

The town fed the flames, quite literally, with everyone from churchgoers to shopkeepers placing bets on whose barbecue would reign supreme. The rivalry became as much a part of the town’s history as the Fourth of July fireworks or the local football games.

Jami had grown up in the middle of the family feud, listening to her grandfather and father grumble about the Winchesters at every holiday and summer gathering. In her household, the idea of ever tasting Winchester barbecue was sacrilege. It was forbidden, the ultimate betrayal of her family’s legacy. She never even considered it—until that day in high school.

It had been a normal afternoon in Home Ec. But when Jed Winchester, the third of his name, had presented his barbecue chicken to the class, Jami had no choice but to taste it. It was for a grade, after all.

Her fingers had pinched off a piece of the chicken, and the moment it hit her tongue, her senses lit up. The smoky sweetness of the sauce mixed with just the right amount of spice. When Jed asked her what she thought, she’d crossed her arms, furrowed her brow, and told him the chicken was dry—which, honestly, it had been. He'd overcooked the meat.

But the sauce? The sauce had been something else. She couldn’t say it then, but she knew deep down that Jed’s barbecue sauce was unlike anything she’d ever tasted. And no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, that first bite had stayed with her. Just like that kiss he would give her a few years later. Much like the one he'd given her at the courthouse less than an hour ago. The heat from that kiss was still on her lips, smoky and sweet, just like his famous sauce.

"What are you doing here, Jed?" asked Jacqui. "Come to see what a real marinade tastes like?"

"No," said Jed, his gaze never leaving Jami. "I came for my wife."

CHAPTERNINE

Jed sat in the booth of Chow Town, his arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He felt the weight of every stare in the room. He'd never had a bad reputation growing up in this small town. His family was respected and well liked. He earned good grades and kept out of trouble. Of course, they all heard the stage name of Culinary Casanova, but Jed hadn't dated much as a youth. If anyone had studied where his gaze always tracked, they'd understand why.

Right now, just like they always were, his eyes were locked on one thing—her. Jami Chou. No, Jami Winchester. His new wife.

She stood near the hostess stand, talking in hushed, intense tones with her eldest sister. Jacqui glared daggers at him. The eldest Chou's anger didn’t faze Jed. He was used to the overprotective big sister routine. What did catch his attention was the faint sheen of perspiration on Jami’s forehead, making her skin glisten. The sight of it made his heart do a strange flip in his chest.

How could the woman be so beautiful after walking a half mile in the afternoon sun? Even flushed and probably fuming from their earlier encounter, she looked incredible. There was something about the way her skin caught the light. How her eyes sparkled with frustration. How her cheeks were rosy without a lick of makeup. Jed had the wild urge to stride over there, wipe the sweat from her forehead with his sleeve, and then kiss her there, right where her skin was warm and glowing.

He leaned forward, about to make his move, when he caught Jacqui’s glare again. She was definitely not happy, and Jed had no doubt she was grilling Jami about their sudden courthouse wedding. But that wasn’t his problem.

His only focus was on Jami—his wife. His. The idea settled over him like the slow, steady smoke from a perfectly tended barbecue, wrapping around him and sinking deep, filling him with warmth and certainty.

The lunchtime rush of Chow Town buzzed around him. The movement, not the sound. The restaurant was absent clinking silverware and murmured conversations. Even the fires from the kitchen were quiet, the grease quieted its sizzling to listen to the drama.

Jed was oblivious to the nosy neighbors glancing at him, whispering behind their hands. Small-town gossip was nothing new. He’d been a part of it for years—first as the golden boy, then the town’s so-called playboy. But the truth was there’d only ever been one woman he’d wanted. Now, after years of waiting, he finally had her. He had every right to be near her.

---