Beneath a twilight sky, Clayton’s pickup chugged up the driveway to his parents’ house. Inside his two young daughters eagerly awaited him, yet Jamie consumed his thoughts—the woman who had become the center of his universe and the source of his regret after tonight.
At the door Momma greeted him with a gentle frown. “Clayton, honey,” she said as he stepped in, “you seem mighty troubled tonight.”
He paused, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders. “Yeah, Momma. I did it again. I forced Jamie to go to Vegas with me.” His voice mingled frustration with sorrow. “Never realized how much she hates that place.”
Momma’s eyes narrowed, her tone soft but firm as she ushered him into the living room. “Now listen here, forcing someone you care about is like trying to catch lightning in a jar,” she drawled, the wisdom of years in every syllable.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Clayton watched his daughters’ excited faces—a sharp contrast to the storm churninginside him. “I pushed her without giving her a say, and it’s gnawing at me,” he confessed.
Sighing deeply, Momma settled beside him on the old wooden bench. “Oh, baby boy,” she said with a tender firmness, “you got a heart as big as the Texas sky, but love ain’t about bulldozing folks into something they ain’t wanting to do.”
Clayton closed his eyes as he recalled Jamie’s horrified expression. “I know,” he murmured. “Now I’ve pushed her away even before getting close.”
Gently, Momma reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you worry, son. You’ll set things right,” she said, her voice a comforting blend of resolve and warmth.
As Clayton gathered the girls and prepared to leave, one thing was as clear as a summer day in the South: he had to fix the mess he’d made. But knowing that and figuring out how to make Jamie forgive him were two different things—and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure he could make it right.
Clayton hesitated before calling his manager. The second Shorty answered he got straight to the point.
“Shorty, I need your help. Jamie said she doesn’t want to go to Vegas.” His grip on the phone tightened, the weight of the situation pressing down.
Shorty exhaled, long and measured. “Her struggle isn’t about the awards—it’s personal.”
Clayton’s jaw locked. He already knew that, but knowing didn’t change the fact that she was stuck. Because of him.
“Any chance you can round up someone else to help me present?”
A pause. Then Shorty’s voice dropped. “I’m afraid not. They want the two of you, period. It’s already being promoted.”
Clayton ran a hand through his hair, frustration tightening in his chest. Jamie was trapped because of his choices. And that was on him.
CHAPTER 21
JAMIE
How dare Clayton—or Shorty, for that matter—leave her in the dark about going to the one place she despised: her hometown. The very place where AJ had disappeared during her teenage years, where she once resorted to self-harm, and where her worst memories were buried. And yet Shorty had signed a contract that was binding save for an act of God, or a force majeure, the legal term in her agreement.
“Are you ready?” Ruth asked, waiting in the foyer of Shorty’s condo and cradling Reba like she might never see her again.
Jamie walked over to the pen and kissed Poppy on the head. The male puppies, Earl and Heathcliff, were tumbling over each other, all paws and teeth, while her poor dog looked utterly exhausted. She slung her carry-on over her shoulder with a sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Nolan emerged from the kitchen, looking like he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks. He’d been crashing in the guest room most nights, helping to take care of the puppies. Jamie thought it was weird he and Ruth weren’t sharing a bed, but she insisted it was too soon for sex—something Jamie strongly disagreed with.
“Ruth, you have to put Reba in the pen,” Nolan said.
Ruth clutched the puppy tighter, tears welling in her eyes. “But she—”
“Nolan’s right,” Jamie cut in. “It’s good for her to play with her siblings.”
Ruth sniffled. “I’ve never been away from her.” And she hadn’t. Three straight weeks inside, not even stepping out for food. She was now on a first-name basis with their Uber Eats driver.
Nolan gently pried Reba from Ruth’s hands. “I’ll take them to the ranch this afternoon.”
“Will you FaceTime with Reba after we land?” Ruth asked, her voice wobbly. It wasn’t Reba who had separation anxiety, it was her.
Nolan chuckled. “Of course. Now go or you’ll miss your flight.”
Jamie glanced toward the door, her stomach knotting. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
