Page 35 of Tactically Tied

"I'm not going to chase her tonight," Jed said, his voice quieter now, more controlled. "I need her to come to me. I need her to want this, to want me. And if she doesn’t…then I'll let her go."

Jed turned away from his friends, grabbing the sponge again, his hands moving mechanically as he scrubbed the counter once more. This time, the scrubbing wasn’t about the cleanliness. It was about the need to keep his hands busy, to keep his mind from spiraling into the dark place where he had to imagine a life without her.

The kitchen was silent except for the sound of his Brillo pad. Noah and Fish didn’t press him further. They knew when a man needed space, needed to work things out in his own head. Jed heard the kitchen door swing shut as they left him alone.

He stared down at the gleaming counter. His reflection stared back at him, a man caught between love and pride. He could still feel the warmth of Jami's body, the taste of her lips, the way she fit into his arms like she was made to be there.

He let out a shaky breath, resting his head against the cool metal. And there, in the silence of his kitchen, with nothing but the smell of cleaning solvent and the lingering taste of regret in his mouth, Jed waited. He waited for the woman who held his heart to decide if she was willing to give up just a little of herself to make a life with him.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

The bed sheets tangled around Jami's legs as she tossed and turned in frustration. This was not how she had envisioned spending tonight. She’d imagined herself in Jed’s arms, celebrating together, losing themselves in each other. Instead, she was alone, staring up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, feeling restless and uneasy.

She kicked off the covers with a sigh of annoyance. The room felt too small, too…old. Or young. The faded lilac walls still had the same posters she’d put up in high school: culinary icons and travel destinations. The bedspread was soft but childish, the same one she’d had for years, with a patchwork of lavender and mint green squares. The room still smelled faintly of ginger from the candle she used to burn every night, a scent that now felt foreign to her.

Jami sat up and glanced around. Everything about this room was like a relic of her past, a version of herself that no longer existed. She had outgrown this space—literally and metaphorically. The girl who had dreamed of adventure, of seeing the world and tasting every spice and dish it had to offer, had been replaced by a woman who had lived those dreams. She was no longer the girl who had once felt like this room held all her aspirations. Now it just felt like a reminder of what she had left behind.

She stood and crossed to the dresser, running her fingers over the old framed photos of her and her sisters, their wide smiles frozen in time. They’d all changed so much, and yet here was this room, untouched by the years. Jami let out a heavy breath, shaking off the weight of nostalgia. She couldn’t stay here. Not tonight.

But where else did she have to go? She had money in the bank, a passport with unstamped pages, and no idea where to head to.

She padded out of the room and into the hallway, her feet making soft thuds against the wooden floors of the house she had grown up in. The living room was just as she remembered, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows, casting shadows over the familiar furniture. There, on the walls, were more memories—family photos that told the story of her childhood, her parents' love, and the bond she shared with her sisters.

Her heart ached as she paused to look at one photo in particular: her parents sitting side by side on the front porch, her mom laughing at something her dad had said. They had always been her anchor, the steady presence in her life, showing her what love looked like. Uncomplicated. Unconditional.

But her mom was gone, and her dad, who hadn't been the same without her, had followed her to Heaven not long after. The house felt different without them—emptier, quieter. The love still lingered in the walls, but it wasn’t the same.

Jami walked into the kitchen, and the familiar scent of chamomile and mint hit her. She stopped in her tracks, surprised to find her sisters sitting at the table like they were waiting for her. Jacqui and Jules were each holding a mug. Another steaming cup sat on the table in front of an empty chair.

Jacqui gave the cup a gentle push in Jami's direction. "Dad’s tea blend. It always helped when you couldn’t sleep."

Jami’s throat tightened as she approached the table. The smell of the tea brought a flood of memories back—nights when she or her sisters were sick, or heartbroken, or simply overwhelmed. Their father would make this blend, his quiet way of comforting them. Her sisters had prepared it for her, just like old times.

Jami sat down, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. "I missed this when I was gone. Missed having you both here."

Jacqui smiled gently. "We missed you too, Jami. The calls, the video chats—they aren’t the same."

Jules nodded in agreement. "It’s not the same when you’re miles away. But we knew you had to go. We never wanted to hold you back."

Jami’s eyes stung with tears as she lifted the cup to her lips, taking in the soothing warmth of the tea. "I just… I thought I’d be okay out there, you know? Traveling, seeing the world. But sometimes I wish I could have you guys with me. Like I could pack you both up and take a little bit of home everywhere I went."

Her voice trembled as she spoke. The familiar knot of homesickness tightened in her chest. She glanced around the kitchen—this place that had been her home for so long, that still held so many memories of laughter, of love, of the closeness she shared with her parents and her sisters. But at the same time, it didn’t feel like her home anymore. Not fully. It was a place she had outgrown, just like her childhood bedroom.

She glanced back down the hallway, toward the bedroom she no longer fit in. Her bed. Her old life. She had changed too much to slip back into that version of herself. The world had shaped her, and she wasn’t the same Jami who had grown up under this roof.

Then her thoughts shifted, unbidden, to Jed. The way his arms had felt around her, the way his kisses had ignited something inside her she hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long time, when she had been with him, she had felt…home. A new home. The kind of home she hadn’t even realized she’d been searching for.

And yet, he had closed his arms off to her when she needed him most.

"I'm glad you're here, James, but why aren't you across the street with your hot new husband?"

Hearing her big sister call her husband hot rattled Jami's mind. But the question was a good one. Why was she here again instead of with Jed? Oh, yeah.

"Rick, the producer, offered us a travel cooking show."

"Jami, that's insanely amazing," Jules squealed.

"Yeah, I know."

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