Page 54 of His Secret Obsession

She’s awfully blunt and sassy for someone her age, but I guess I can appreciate that.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Mary assures us. She elbows Andrew in the side. He stumbles backward, releasing a pained wheeze as he clutches at his side. Mary shoots him a glare, and his words come out in a rush.

“I won’t tell anyone either. Jesus, woman. You’re strong as a bull.”

Mary, looking rather pleased by that statement, turns back to Jax. “Just let me know how much I owe you for the sign. I’ll write you a check.”

He shakes his head vehemently, and a look of frustration crosses over Mary’s face. She clearly wants to argue. I turn back to the sign, examining it as they quietly bicker in the background. My heart beats a little faster as an idea comes to me, although I’m reluctant to voice it at first.

“I could fix it for you.”

The words tumble out of my mouth before I give myself a chance to second guess the choice. The bickering pauses, all three heads turning to look at me. I can feel the burn of Jax’s gaze on the side of my face as I continue to stare straight ahead at the crumbling sign. I swallow down a rush of nerves and forge on.

“My dad used to own a woodworking business with my mom,” I explain, for Mary and Andrew’s benefit. My heart squeezes in a vice as painful memories resurface, and I clear my throat. “They taught me everything they know. I can fix it.”

Finally, I look towards the others. Mary’s eyes are soft, Andrew just looks slightly curious, but Jax…I can’t get a good read on him. Whatever he’s feeling or thinking, it’s intense. His unwavering stare makes me feel like an open book. I avert my eyes back to the sign, unable to bear the strength of his gaze.

Maybe he doesn’t want me messing with it. After all, it’s the first thing his customers see when they pull up to his business. Maybe he doesn’t trust me with this project. For some reason, that thought stings.

Finally, Jax speaks, his voice soft. “Are you sure that’s something you want to do? I don’t want to burden you.”

“It’s the least I can do when you’re letting me live here rent free.” I give him a smile, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels. I truly want to do this for him—and maybe some small part of me wants to share a piece of my past, too. Even if he doesn’t understand the full meaning yet. I haven’t touched a piece of wood since my parents died. This was something I shared solely with them. After they passed away, I went into interior design because a piece of my heart will always yearn to make homes feel more…personal. But I stuck to the type of interior design they teach you in college, most of which can be bought at a store. Not made by hand with love.

“I would really appreciate that,” Jax replies. “Whatever you need, just let me know. I’ll make sure to get it.” He looks like he wants to say more, and maybe he would if we weren’t in front of an audience. My shoulders sag a little, a strange sense of relief coursing through me at his easy acceptance.

“Maybe I could use some space in your garage?” I look towards the garage that sits next to Jax’s house. I’ll need somewhere to store the sign when I’m not working on it.

“Of course,” he begins, looking towards Mary. “Just let me take care of her car, and I’ll clear a space out today.”

While he moves the Altima, I trudge back up to the warmth of the house. I’m glad to be alone with my swirling thoughts for a moment. Different design patterns filter through my mind. I could not only fix it, but I could give it a facelift. Something more pleasing to the eye; a design that will grab people’s attention as they drive by. The idea of returning to something I used to sharewith my parents forms a lump in my throat, a bittersweet dread sitting heavy on my shoulders. But there’s also a low thrum of excitement coursing through me.

And that’s what I hang onto.

Jax

One hip leaning against the doorway, I admire the view as Maddie works on the sign in the garage. She’s completely unaware that I’m here, the red plaid shirt she borrowed from me swallowing up those sensuous curves. It drapes across her thighs, the material obscuring the view of her perky ass in those black leggings. But I don’t mind because the sight of her wearing my shirt while moving around with ease in my space makes my heart feel full.

I don’t even think a lifetime of this would be enough. I’ll always want more.

After I moved Mary’s car into the shop, I took Maddie to the local hardware store for supplies. I still have so many questions, but I’ve kept them to myself. I get the feeling there are things she isn’t ready to talk about yet. But I hope she’ll open up to me one day. Some selfish part of me can’t help but want every little piece of her.

Having this sign that she created with her own hands will feel like having a piece of her, even after she’s gone.

She hums a low tune under her breath, and my ears strain to catch it. Her lips move imperceptibly, her soft voice piecing the words of the song together. It’s a beautiful, haunting melody that raises goosebumps along my arms. It’s a song about a loved one flying up to Heaven and smiling down on those they left behind.

It takes my breath away and makes my eyes burn. A dull pain lances my chest with that familiar ache and longing that never quite goes away after losing a loved one, and my heart twists at the thought of Maddie knowing that kind of grief. When I catch the sight of a tear trailing down her cheek, I can’t stand back in the shadows anymore. I will never be able tonotgo to that woman when she needs me.

Stepping up behind her, I clear my throat. She startles, a breathy gasp slipping from her as her palm comes up to rest over her heart. Putting both arms around her, I pull her back against my chest. My head rests in the space between her neck and shoulder, my lips pressing a gentle kiss to her skin. I breathe in her calming scent.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” My arms squeeze around her a little tighter. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

Saying nothing, she leans into my embrace. Her head tilts back to rest on my shoulder. I sweep my thumb across her wet cheek, wiping the stray tear away. She gives me a wobbly smile, her hands coming to rest over my forearms. And God, even now, she’s breathtaking.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmur. A moment of surprise, and maybe a little hesitancy, flashes across her face. She gives me a tentative smile.

“Even when I’m crying?”

“Even then.”

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