Page 36 of Tactically Tied

"But?" Jacqui urged her to continue.

"Jed doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to do TV anymore. He wants to settle down. Have a life with me. Here."

Her sisters continued to look at her as though they were still waiting for the bomb to drop. Did they not hear the explosion?

"I can’t just settle down. It’s not who I am."

Her sisters exchanged a glance, and Jules spoke first. "Maybe it’s not about settling down, Jami. Maybe it’s about finding a way to make your own home wherever you are."

"You’re not the same girl who left," said Jacqui. "But you’re still you. And family means the world to you. I guess you just have to decide: Is he family?"

Jami swallowed hard, looking between her sisters, feeling the weight of their words. Yesterday morning, his arms had felt like home. Hours ago, when he'd crossed his arms to her, she'd felt adrift, abandoned. Because he'd been trying to control her. Right?

Jami wasn't so sure? Jacqui said she had to decide. Jed had said something similar before he'd crossed his arms over his chest. She'd felt like it was an ultimatum. But maybe it was a choice. So now the question was what did she want?

She looked at her sisters again, the warmth of their presence comforting her, grounding her. And for the first time in a long time, Jami wasn’t sure where she was meant to be.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Jed pushed through the door of Grits and Grub, feeling every ounce of the sleepless night in his bones. Today was the day the television show would air and the winners would be announced live. The culmination of days of competition, of turmoil, of every raw and unguarded moment with Jami.

He rubbed a hand over his face, stifling a yawn as he headed toward the kitchen. The clatter of pots and pans, the sizzle of onions hitting a hot skillet, the murmur of his staff—those sounds were usually a balm to his nerves. But as he stepped into the kitchen, the tension in the air thickened like a roux.

Jed's gaze swept over the scene, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spotted something different. Tim was adding a new twist to the barbecue chicken recipe, incorporating some of the ingredients Jami had brought into the kitchen during their time together. Marissa was trying to give the young cook a subtle shake of her head.

The kitchen went eerily silent, everyone holding their breath. They were used to his exacting standards, his need for things to be done his way. They braced for the inevitable explosion.

At first, Jed's jaw tightened, his instinct to control, to keep things exactly as he wanted them, flaring up. The old Jed would have barked an order to stop, to revert to the tried-and-true. But then he remembered Jami, her deft hands in his kitchen, the way she always added a pinch of this or a dash of that, turning his traditional dishes into something new and exciting. How she had challenged him to see beyond his own way of doing things.

He took a slow breath. "All right, let me try it."

There was a collective exhale, a rustle of movement as Tim quickly plated up the dish. His hands trembled just slightly as he slid the plate toward him. Jed picked up a fork, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes. He took a bite.

The flavors hit his palate—smoky, sweet, with a surprising hint of citrus and an earthy undertone. It was... good. Different, but good. He could taste Jami's influence in every nuance, her love for fusion, for bringing new life to classic dishes. It was like tasting a memory, something that reminded him of her and yet felt like it belonged in his kitchen.

He swallowed, placing the fork down. His eyes met Tim’s, and he gave a slow nod. "Not bad," he said, keeping his voice even. "But I’m still not sold on the lemongrass."

Marissa, who had started to grin, pouted. Jed didn't miss the stalk of lemongrass she swiftly hid behind her back. The tension in the room broke like a dam. The kitchen erupted into relieved laughter. Shoulders sagged, smiles appeared, and the hum of activity resumed.

Jed turned on his heel, heading toward the front of the house. He could feel the eyes on his back, hear the whispered exchanges. It wasn’t lost on him that they saw this as a small victory, that they were testing the waters of change.

He pushed through the swinging door into the dining area. The restaurant was still closed, the chairs neatly arranged around the tables, the polished wood gleaming under the soft morning light filtering through the windows. He paused, letting his gaze travel over the space, taking in the emptiness, the quiet.

He had built this. Every table, every chair, every single detail had been a part of his dream. A place where people could come and enjoy good food, where community could gather. But today, looking out at the empty seats, all he saw was the absence. The absence of her.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the bar. What good was all of this—this success, this dream—if he had no one to share it with? The tables blurred slightly as he thought of Jami. Her laughter, her passion for food, the way she challenged him and infuriated him and made him feel more alive than he had in years.

She had brought something into his life that he hadn’t known was missing. She had turned his world upside down, and now, standing here in the quiet of his empty restaurant, he realized that it was exactly what he needed. But he had been so focused on holding on to his way, on keeping control, that he hadn’t given her the space to find her own place in his world.

"How's it taste?" The question echoed in his mind, not about the dish they’d just prepared, but about life. How did life taste when it was missing the one ingredient that could make it extraordinary? Without her, it was just... bland.

Jed's heart ached at the thought of her leaving, of her packing up and walking out of his life. He had built these walls, this business, this life, but they meant nothing without her. If she wasn't standing by his side, sharing in every success, every challenge, then what was it all for?

He had been a fool. He had let his pride, his fear of losing control, get in the way of what mattered most. This restaurant, these tables, these dishes—they were all just pieces of a puzzle that meant nothing without the heart. And Jami was his heart.

The faint sound of a knock echoed through the restaurant. Jed glanced up, frowning as a face appeared at the glass door. His stomach twisted. Of all the people he expected to see today, Rick was the last on the list. Jed thought about ignoring him, pretending he hadn't seen the man standing there with an apologetic expression plastered on his face.

With a sigh, Jed pushed off the bar and walked toward the door, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor. He unlocked it and opened the door. Rick shuffled in, looking surprisingly sheepish.

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