Page 23 of Reckless and Rooted
Then, I remember that day. When the fucking rain was pouring down all around us, and I showed up at her parents’ house to see her standing there, waiting for a cab, bags packed.
I jerk away, turning my face away from hers because I can’t fucking look at her and not remember her breaking my heart, leaving me here on my own.
I take a minute, getting a breath. She sighs, clearly feeling the same emotions I am, and says, “Bye, Jax.”
I nod my head, looking back to her again despite telling myself not to, and say, “Bye, Felicity.”
Then, I march my ass out of that barn and away from the only person in my life that I have both loved and loathed at the same time.
As much as I would love to say fuck it, as much as I crave her, want her, fucking need her, I can’t let myself go through heartbreak.
Because she will leave again. It’s only a matter of time.
12
felicity
Takingin the walls around me, I gawk in awe at the work that’s been done. The walls that did have mold on them, according to the inspector, have been ripped off, down to the point where I can see the studs and the wiring behind them.
The floors are covered in plastic, but I can feel the fact that there is no longer any old and grimy carpet beneath my feet anymore, and I am excited at the prospect of what it could look like.
Right now, the house looks like it is in the beginning stages of being built.
“I know it’s rough to look at,” Graham says, standing with his hands on his hips. The house is stifling and explains the sweat that pours from the poor man’s face. “But we’ve actually made some great progress.”
I shake my head, unable to lose the smile on my face. “It looks incredible. Honestly. I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done.”
“Well, you said a month,” he says with a nod.
A groan comes from the little makeshift table that is set up to the side, the table I set a platter of tacos on for anyone who wanted them. “This is great, Felicity. Thanks.” A compliment comes from Matthew, one of the guys who works with Graham.
I smile broadly. “Thank you for all your hard work.”
“You don’t have to bring us stuff, Ms. Vogel,” Calem, a boy who was likely in high school, comments. His cheeks burn when I look over at him.
“It’s really no trouble, and please, call me Felicity.”
“Yeah,” Graham murmurs, humor in his voice. “There’s really no chance of that. The poor guy is smitten.”
I widen my eyes a little, a laugh sparking in my stomach at the thought. “Aw. He likes my music.”
“You are just a teeny bit famous,” he says. “It’s going to get out soon that you’ve got this house going.”
I shrug and nod my head. “That’s okay. I plan to stay, so it was going to, one way or another. Plus, this is my hometown. Everyone here knows me.”
Graham nods and bites his cheek, something working through his mind, and I eye him speculatively. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head with a sigh. “Nothing. It’s just my daughter—Well, she’s my stepdaughter.” He pauses, and I smile at the uncomfortable look on his face. “She’s a huge fan, and it would probably earn me some major bonus points if I got her your autograph.”
My smile grows, and I nod my head. “Give me just a minute.”
He nods and turns back to the work at hand while I quickly step outside and to my car. I love that he asked politely, without making a fuss. I just got a bunch of headshots from my manager to sign and send back in the back of my car, and I rush to grab one.
As I’m signing it, I remember that he didn’t tell me her name, but just as I’m going back into the house, a truck pulls up outside.
Jax.
A tremor of excitement rushes through me at the prospect of seeing him. It’s been five days since I was at the ranch, and Jax wrapped his arms around me again.
