Page 37 of Tactically Tied

“Jed,” Rick began, his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes darting around as if unsure where to land. “I owe you an apology.”

Jed crossed his arms, not saying a word. He wasn’t going to make this easy for Rick.

Rick took a deep breath, meeting Jed’s gaze head-on. “I didn’t think your marriage to Jami was real. I thought it was just part of the show, part of the drama. But I’ve been watching you two this last week… and it’s clear I was wrong. Very wrong.”

Rick wasn't the only one who had been wrong, but Jed kept that to himself. He was enjoying this apology. And it was Rick's fault that he and Jami were now on the outs. At least it was partly Rick's fault.

“I didn’t mean to mess things up between you two. I honestly thought I was helping by creating good TV. I didn’t realize… it wasn’t just TV. It was real.”

Jed let out a slow breath, his arms dropping to his sides. “It was real.”

“I can take back the offer; the travel show, the whole idea of Jami going off on her own. I’ll pull the plug on it right now if that’s what you want.”

For a moment, a split second, Jed felt a rush of relief. That would solve everything, wouldn’t it? If Rick took back the offer, Jami wouldn’t have a reason to leave. She’d stay here, with him, where she belonged. They could build a life together in this town, in this restaurant. She wouldn’t have to choose between him and her dreams. She could be his, and he could keep her.

Just as quickly as the relief came, it was swallowed by something else. Something darker. He realized it wasn’t relief he felt—it was temptation. The temptation to manipulate the situation, to control it, just like he had always done. To keep Jami in his life not because she chose to be there but because he made it impossible for her to leave.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. That wasn’t love. That was fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of being alone. Love wasn’t supposed to be about fear.

There was a painful clench around his heart as Jed realized what he had to do. He had to let her go. He had to give her the freedom to choose, even if it meant choosing a life without him.

“No,” Jed said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Don’t take it back.”

Rick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Are you sure? Because if you don’t want her to go?—”

“It’s not about what I want,” Jed interrupted, his voice growing firmer. “It’s about what she wants. And I can’t be the one holding her back from that. I can’t trap her here just because I’m afraid of losing her.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. I’ve been in this business a long time, and I can tell when a show has the legs to go the distance. You and Jami? You’ve got the makings of a long-running series.”

Jed hoped so. He hoped their story wasn’t just some flashy pilot that burned bright and fizzled out. Their love story had depth, drama, the kind of chemistry that kept audiences hooked season after season. And maybe, just maybe, by letting her go now, he was giving their show the chance to hit its stride.

Because if Jami came back, if she chose him again, it wouldn’t be because of a contract or some scripted obligation. It would be real—the kind of twist that turns a good show into a great one, the kind people talk about for years. And Jed? He didn’t want a one-season wonder. He wanted the full run with her, the kind of love story that earned every episode, every arc, until the final credits rolled with them still standing together.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

Jami stepped through the doors of Grits and Grub, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. The restaurant was packed. Every table was filled with townsfolk. She felt a fluttering in her stomach—not from the impending announcement of the show's winner, but because of him.

She caught sight of Jed across the room, standing near the bar. He was talking to one of his cooks but turned the moment she entered. He looked so handsome in his crisp shirt and dark jeans, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms—arms that beckoned her to come over and be wrapped inside. There was a shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, but it only made him more ruggedly handsome. She ached to reach out to him, to wipe away any stress. Stress she knew she had caused. But she couldn't bring herself to move.

Her sisters, who had flanked her on the way here, each gave her a supportive squeeze on the arm before they melted into the crowd, abandoning her to face him alone. Typical, really. Jacqui and Jules were always there for her, but they knew when she needed to take a step on her own.

Jed had started walking toward her, weaving through the tables, his eyes never leaving hers. Jami's heart pounded louder with every step he took. When he finally reached her, he raised his hand—slowly, tentatively. Was he going to shake her hand? Brush a stray hair away? Push her away? She would never know because she couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

Jami stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and went into his arms. Jed wrapped her up immediately, holding her tight against his chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him—soap, hickory, and the faint hint of spices from the kitchen. It was a scent she had come to associate with comfort, with safety, with home.

Jed’s hand stroked up and down her back. He tilted his head down, his breath warm against her ear. “Truce?”

His voice was gruff, a mix of hope and vulnerability. Just one word, a question. Yet that single word held the weight of everything between them.

Jami nodded, unable to trust her voice. Her throat was too tight, her heart too full. She clutched him closer, feeling the solidness of his body against hers, grounding her in this moment.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze searching hers. Then, with a soft smile, he led her toward a private booth at the back of the restaurant. She felt the eyes of the town on them as they moved, the whispers and knowing smiles.

None of it mattered. All she could focus on was Jed’s warm hand in hers, the way his fingers curled protectively around hers as if he were afraid to let go. Because he still thought she might leave. The problem was she didn't know if she would. She didn't know if she could.

They slid into the booth, the soft leather creaking under their weight. The lights in the restaurant dimmed. The large TV screens around the room flickered to life. The show began, and the crowd hushed, the air thick with anticipation.

The episode started, showing the other couples, the competition, the moments of triumph and struggle. The camera cut to her and Jed, capturing their banter, the cooking challenges, the blind taste tests. Jami watched herself on screen, laughing, arguing, cooking... and in every shot, Jed was there, right beside her. His eyes were always on her, his touch an anchor. She saw that even through the screen. It hit her then how natural they looked together, how right.

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