Page 34 of Eight Years Gone

“If it’s okay, I’m still going to help Maggie, but I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll be gone before you get to the shop. Just like we’ve been doing things.”

She sucked in an unsteady breath. “I’m so sorry, Jagger.”

He brought the rough side of his thumb up to wipe at the new tear sliding down her cheek. “There’s no need to apologize.”

How was there so much tenderness when edgy eyes stared into hers?

He dropped his hand. “I’ll see you around.”

She nodded as he turned, fighting the urge to run to him—to let herself forget about the past and take what she’d wanted for so long.

She looked over her shoulder toward the noise of long-honored traditions, then back at the man she didn’t want to love.

Pulling out her phone, she texted Christy.

Can you let Ben know I’ll be right there? I need a couple of minutes.

Christy messaged back. I’m assuming this has to do with Jagger. Are you okay?

She didn’t know what she was anymore—mostly just confused. He’s leaving. In a couple of weeks.

It’s supposed to be hot tomorrow. Come swim with Brennan and me at the lake. I’ll pack us a picnic. We can talk about everything.

She wanted to lay around and wallow on her only day off. But that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Okay.

Take as much time as you need. I’ll take care of Ben.

You’re the best.

She wandered over to her Sorento, leaning against the hood, no longer in the mood to capture life’s precious moments with her camera. Pressing her face into her hands, she inhaled and exhaled a steadying breath.

Jagger would be gone in two weeks. That’s what she’d wanted since the moment he showed up in town, so why was she on the verge of sobbing? Why did the idea of sitting next to Ben on a blanket by the bonfire feel so wrong?

She’d told Jagger that she thought Ben could make her happy. A week ago, she’d been far more certain than she was right now.

Taking another deep breath, she looked toward the noise again. “You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

Pushing off the hood, she started toward her friends, doing her best to muster up some enthusiasm for the evening ahead.

Nine

Jagger stood in the bright light on Maggie’s front porch, hesitating before he pressed his finger against the doorbell.

Right about now, he had no idea why he was there. Twenty minutes ago, he’d been ready to grab his shit and go. Then Grace had run after him in the parking lot, breaking his heart with her tears. Before he’d known what he was doing, he heard himself telling her that he would be sticking around for another couple of weeks.

“Come on in,” Maggie’s voice carried through the screen door of the beautiful Victorian home nestled in Preston Valley’s historic district where the Wilson family had lived for three generations.

Maggie and Rose’s parents had passed long before Jagger had met Grace. Bonnie Wilson had died after complications from a stroke at the age of sixty-two, and Gabriel Wilson had died six months later from a massive heart attack brought on by a broken heart.

Jagger let himself inside, following the sound of the TV down the short hallway to the living room, sending Asa a nod as he and Maggie sat on the couch, watching a movie.

Maggie set down her knitting as she smiled. “Well, isn’t this a surprise.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry to bother you guys.”

“You’re not. Asa was talking about snacks anyway.”

“That I was.” Asa paused the movie as he gained his feet. “Can I get you something, Jagger? Iced tea, coffee, a beer?

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