Tears burned her eyes. “How am I supposed to trust you?”
“I swear,” he said, stepping closer, “no more secrets. Not now. Not ever.”
His arms wrapped around her and she stiffened. But when she didn’t pull away he held her a little tighter.
The front door burst open and two little voices filled the silence.
“Where are you going, Miss Jamie?” Emily asked, eyeing her suitcase.
“A hotel.”
Charlotte’s chin lifted. “I’m coming with you.”
“Me too,” Emily said.
“Me three,” Clayton added.
Jamie let out a broken laugh. She looked at the girls, then at Clayton, then back at her suitcase.
Maybe he was right. Maybe running wasn’t the answer.
Her fingers clenched around the handle. Every instinct told her to go. But for the first time in her life, she wanted to break the habit.
She let go of the suitcase and crouched down, pulling the girls into her arms.
She wasn’t leaving. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
Summer flew by in the blink of an eye. With Tennessee schools starting the second week of August the house felt unusually quiet without the girls underfoot. Not that Jamie had been around much. Since she and Clayton wrote Reba’s song, three other artists had asked to collaborate, and most mornings, after school drop-off, they headed straight to the studio.
Today was no different—except it was August 25.
Jamie’s birthday.
She never made a fuss about it. Birthdays hadn’t been a thing when she was a child and she preferred a normal day, doing normal things.
“Happy birthday, darlin’.”
Clayton strolled into the bedroom holding a present, the girls scrambling onto the bed behind him with Poppy, Duke, and Heathcliff close at their heels.
Jamie raised her brow. “What’s this?”
“Open it!” Emily urged, bouncing.
Jamie gave the box a shake—it was light. Something was inside, but she had no clue what it was. One thing was sure: Clayton had wrapped it himself. The folds were uneven and the paper bunched in places where it should have been smooth.
Smirking, she tore off the wrapping and lifted the lid. The moment she saw what was inside she shot Clayton a glare. He was already laughing.
“I got you a constrictor knot,” he announced, grinning.
Jamie held up the small coil of rope and cocked her head. “Wow. Just what I always wanted.”
Charlotte frowned. “Why would you give Miss Jamie a knot, Daddy?”
“Because she can’t tie one herself,” Clayton said smugly.
Emily wrinkled her nose. “That’s a dumb gift.”
“That’s the whole point,” Clayton said with a smirk. “Come to the living room. Your real present is waiting.”
