His Surrender

by Jaclyn Osborn

  Foster laughed and went over to get into the passenger seat. He had to grab the bar to haul himself up, even though it wasn’t that high off the ground. “I’m serious. Even Mr. Barnett is getting out of town for spring break.”

  “He is?” That was news to me. Last I heard, Remi had planned to stay at home during the break.

  “Mhm.” Foster put on his seat belt. “At first he wasn’t, but he told us today at school that he was going to New Orleans. I didn’t know if you planned to go with him or not… since you guys are friends and stuff.”

  Were Remi and I even still friends? He’d been so mad last we talked, and then he’d sent the text about us ending things. Now he was taking a spontaneous trip without telling me?

  “I didn’t plan on it,” I said, doing a damn good job of composing myself.

  Ivan came out of the house with another bag and locked the door before approaching the truck. “Did you get everything?” he asked Foster.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Awesome.” Ivan placed the bag in the back seat before closing Foster’s door and looking at me. “Last chance to come with us. The campground is really nice from what I hear. They even have running bathrooms in walking distance.”

  “Nah, I’m good,” I said, clapping him on the back. An idea was forming in my head. A probably stupid idea, but it was only growing stronger the more I thought about it. “I might have other plans.”

  “With a certain piano guy?”

  I smiled and said nothing.

  After Ivan and Foster left, I got into my car and sat there with the engine idling. Remi had reached his breaking point with me and rightly so. I had heard the L word and run the other way. In doing so, I’d treated him horribly. He deserved better.

  “Love is worth the risk,” Emery had told me.

  But I didn’t love Remi… right?

  Then I remembered the raspy sound of his voice when he first woke up in the morning and how he fit so perfectly against my chest. For the past two weeks, we’d barely spoken to each other. Like real conversation, not just the small talk before I’d gone over and fucked him. I missed talking to him every day. I missed all those little things Emery had said he loved about Cason… they were things I’d noticed about Remi too.

  The pain of not having him outweighed my fear of everything else.

  It was then I made my decision. I put the car in reverse and got on the main road before heading home and packing a suitcase. Excitement coursed through me, as did nerves. An apology wouldn’t be enough.

  I needed to do something big to show him that, even though it had taken me a while, I was finally ready take a leap of faith and trust him to catch me.

  Chapter 18

  Remi

  Walking the streets of New Orleans was an experience unlike any other. The sights, smells, and sounds of the Big Easy brought a smile to my face. The azaleas were in bloom, creating a pop of color to the already vibrant city. The weather was damn near close to perfect at seventy degrees, and the sun shone bright in the sky without any clouds to obscure it. My favorite part?

  Jazz. It was everywhere.

  I passed a trio of musicians on the sidewalk and tossed a few bills into the open instrument case after standing and listening for a moment. The trumpet player nodded to me before breaking out into a solo. Then I continued toward Julia Street where my hotel was located.

  After the seven-hour drive, I had been starving, so I’d decided to eat lunch before checking into my room, leaving my luggage in the car. The walk was nice after being stuck in a car for so long. I had left my apartment a little before six that morning and had driven straight through without making many stops along the way. I was ready to get into my room and relax a bit before hitting the town that night.

  I wanted to visit as many jazz clubs as possible in the few days I planned to stay.

  The Marriott hotel I’d booked was nice but not too expensive. I entered the lobby and waited in line to check in. Mardi Gras had been in February that year, but it was still busy end of March with tourists and people coming in for the parades and events they had scheduled for the weekend and following week. The hotel was no exception. I waited almost fifteen minutes before I was able to approach the counter.

  “Good afternoon,” the woman said. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “Yes. Name is Remington Barnett.”

  Her nails clicked on the keys, and then her brow furrowed. “Sorry, hon, but I’m not seeing you in the computer.”

  “Huh? I booked the room a few days ago.”

  She looked again, then asked me to show her the card I made the reservation with. When that didn’t work, I had to search my emails for the confirmation code. But I didn’t see one. I had never gotten an email.

  “Sometimes, when you book through third-party sites, things like that happen,” she said.

  My anxiety was climbing, but I worked on keeping it at bay. No sense in freaking out just yet. “Can I book another room, then? I’ll take whatever you have available.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Barnett, but we’re at capacity. All rooms are reserved. Busy weekend with the parade this afternoon.”

  With a line of people behind me, I couldn’t stand there and argue all day. I stepped aside and pulled out my phone to see about making a reservation somewhere else. Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a chair in the lobby and barely keeping myself from having a full-blown panic attack.

  Every hotel I called had no vacancy. Even the super-cheap, shitty motels. I was sure the expensive hotels had a room, but there was no way I could afford those. My budget didn’t allow for it. And it’d be a cold day in hell before I called my dad and asked for money.

  There I was in a place I’d never been—alone—with nowhere to go.

  Maybe I should go home.

  I didn’t believe in coincidences. Fate definitely seemed to be telling me something. Probably that I wasn’t meant to be happy. Not happy in the one place I’d always wanted to travel to. Not happy with Jay, a man I’d fallen in love with in such a short time.

  After I left the Marriott, I moved at a leisurely pace down Julia Street. I wasn’t in a hurry to be anywhere, and I might as well enjoy the sights while I debated on what to do. Art galleries lined both sides of the street, and the architecture of the buildings was art in and of itself. I passed town houses made of red brick with green doors, and several of the units had balconies.

  One quick search on my phone told me Julia Street was known as Gallery Row and was more of an art district. I recalled the art hung up in Jay’s living room and how he’d said he was a lover of beautiful things.

  Jay would like this. I swallowed hard at the thought.

  No longer in the mood to walk around, I went back to my car and sat there for a while with the windows rolled down. Thinking. A light breeze came in through the window and ruffled my hair, bringing with it the smells of nearby restaurants. My phone vibrated in the cupholder, and I grabbed it, glancing at the screen. I nearly dropped the phone before accepting the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Afternoon,” Jay said, sounding like his playful self. “I was wonderin’ if you knew of a good beignet recipe. I’ve been craving them lately.”

  “Beignets?” A weird fog perforated my brain. He never failed to throw me for a loop. “What makes you think I’d know a recipe for them? Google it.”

  “Ah. Guess I’ll need to find a good place that serves them.”

  “Why are you calling me, Jay?” After the mix-up with my hotel reservation and the stress of trying to find somewhere else to stay, dealing with him was the last thing I needed.

  His response came a few heartbeats later in a soft voice. “Because I want to see you.”

  The heaviness in my heart from earlier began to lift. Then a weight clamped back on top of it. Jay wanted sex. That was the only reason he’d want to see me.

  “Too bad,” I said, starting the car even though I had no idea where I was going to go. “I’m not in town this w
eekend.”

  “You’re not? Where are you?”

  “Nowhere near you,” I answered in a harsher tone than I’d intended. “I mean. I’m not in Arkansas. I took a trip to New Orleans.”

  Why was I telling him the truth?

  “I heard the beignets there are to die for.” Jay’s voice rang with amusement. Why?

  “Yeah. I’ll have to visit Café Du Monde while I’m here and see what the fuss is about.”

  “You should go there now and take a picture. Let me live through you.”

  “That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”

  Jay laughed, and my breath caught in my throat. God, I missed him. However, I wouldn’t settle for the kind of relationship he wanted. I had finally realized my self-worth.

  “The Café Du Monde in the French Market has outdoor seating,” Jay casually said, and then he added, “According to Google. I’m sure it’s a nice day. You should go over and enjoy some fresh air.”

  A coffee and beignet actually sounded great.

  “Maybe I will.” I tapped a thumb on the steering wheel. “Not gonna lie, Jay, this conversation has been fucking strange.”

  “It’s better than the last one we had where you told me to go fuck myself.”

  I cringed at the reminder, yet I wouldn’t apologize for speaking my mind. He’d deserved it.

  “I gotta go,” I said. If I talked to him any longer, the barrier I’d constructed to keep him away would start to crumble.

  “Have a nice day, Remi.”

  I ended the call before looking up the address to Café Du Monde and plugging it into the GPS. The place was packed when I arrived, as expected. The building had a green roof, and like Jay had mentioned, there was outside seating under the green awning. The conversation with him played over in my head as I parked and walked into the café, taking my place in line. Random was an understatement. Out of all the things he could’ve talked about, he’d chosen beignets.

  What were the odds that I’d be in New Orleans when he called to chat about them?

  People talked all around me, their voices blending together. The place where I ordered was inside, but there was a door that led to the outside area. That’s where the bulk of people sat. The round tables had green padded chairs around them, and the workers were dressed in white uniforms. I loved the atmosphere, as well as the mouthwatering aroma coming from the kitchen.

  I ordered beignets—they came in an order of three—and a café au lait. As I waited for it to be done, I slid into a chair on the inside and looked out the windows, watching people as they passed by.

  The chair in front of me moved right before I came face-to-face with the last person I ever expected to see.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Jay said, his lips turned up in a cocky grin as he sat down.

  Shocked, I could only stare at him, dumbfounded. “How are you here right now?” I asked once I could finally form words.

  The same amusement I’d heard in his voice over the phone reflected in his gorgeous green eyes. “I flew on a plane.”

  “I just talked to you like twenty minutes ago. I know planes are fast, but not that fast, Jay. What the hell?”

  Blond bangs fell into his face as he leaned toward me. “Can I tell you a little secret, Mr. Barnett? I’ve been here since early this morning.”

  “Since this morning?” That was before I got there. None of it made sense. “You didn’t know I was here until I told you over the phone. Are you stalking me or something?”

  My order was called out, and I left him just long enough to grab it and come back. He was still smiling when I sat back down.

  “Stalking? No. But I have a nephew who likes to talk a lot. He told me you planned to come to New Orleans for spring break.” When he reached for one of my beignets, I slapped his hand. “Ouch. Rude.”

  My brain was about to explode. “I don’t understand why you’re here. Why follow me? We aren’t exactly friends, Jay.” Saying the words hurt my heart. Seeing the flash of pain in his eyes… I wondered if they hurt his too. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

  His demeanor changed then, and he frowned. The playful charmer was gone. “You said you wanted commitment and couldn’t see me anymore because of it. Honestly, the idea of being in a relationship scares the hell out of me.” Jay scooted his chair forward and grabbed my hand. “You wanna know what scares me more? Losing you. So that’s why I’m here. I still don’t think I’m relationship material, Remi, but here I am. I want to give us a real shot at something special.”

  “Am I dreaming?” Because that was the only logical explanation for what I’d just heard.

  “Baby, not even a dream could look as good as me.”

  Yep. Definitely real.

  I snorted a laugh and pulled my hand from his. I took a sip of my coffee and released a satisfied sigh at the dark roast and chicory flavor.

  “You’re such a coffee snob,” he said with a smile.

  I returned his smile, even though I was still confused about everything. Hope blossomed in my chest, and no amount of swatting it away seemed to work. Jay wouldn’t have come all that way if he wasn’t serious, though.

  “What are you saying?” I dared myself to ask.

  “I’m saying I want to try this. For real. No more running away.” Jay ruffled the back of his hair and heaved a sigh as his eyes found mine again. “That is… if you’re willing to give me another chance. I know I screwed up, and I’ll need to prove to you things are different this time.”

  “You flying here to find me is a good start,” I pointed out. It was also a damn amazing romantic gesture. Saying the R word out loud might freak him out, so I kept it to myself. “Here.” I pushed the plate of beignets toward him. “Take one as a peace offering.”

  Jay picked up the square piece of fried dough covered in powdered sugar and took a bite, emitting a moan as he chewed. The sound shot to my groin, and I adjusted myself under the table as inconspicuously as possible. The damn beautiful bastard.

  “You, uh…” I motioned to my mouth. “You have some white stuff on your lips there.”

  Jay straightened in his seat and wiped at his mouth with powdered-sugar-covered fingers, making it even worse. I laughed and handed him a napkin.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked, setting the napkin beside him after using it.

  “Nowhere actually. There was a mix-up at the hotel and my reservation was given to someone else. I was planning on driving back home, but I might check the hostel downtown to see if they have a bed available.”

  “The hostel?” Jay asked with an incredulous expression. “Hell no. You’re stayin’ there over my dead body. You can room with me.” He winked.

  “And where are you staying?”

  “The Ritz-Carlton.”

  “Of course you are,” I said, blowing out a sharp breath. The rooms ranged from $299 to $700+ per night. “That’s too rich for my blood.”

  “Well, I’m paying, not you.” Jay took another bite of beignet.

  “I don’t know if me staying with you is a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  An answer failed to come to mind. He smiled as he saw the resignation on my face. He knew he’d won.

  The notion of fate popped into my head again. I had lost my hotel reservation, and not even two hours later I’d run into Jay, who offered for me to stay with him. Maybe things really did happen for a reason.

  “If I stay with you, it doesn’t change anything,” I said, pointing at him.

  “Ah, it changes everything, darlin’.” That infuriatingly adorable smirk appeared on his lips. “But I’ll behave myself. Scout’s honor.”

  “Were you a Boy Scout?” I asked.

  “Yep. For a full three days.”

  “Only three days?”

  His lips twitched. “Apparently telling the Scout leader to suck on deez nuts when he tried to make me gather firewood is disrespectful. Who knew?”

  “You keep on surprising me,” I said,
amazed.

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  I couldn’t wait.

  Damn him.

  ***

  “You got the executive suite?” I asked as I followed Jay into the elevator. The room cost $480 per night, and that didn’t include taxes.

  He pressed the button for our floor and smirked at me. “You’re a coffee snob. And I’m a hotel snob. Don’t shame me for my expensive tastes.”

  “I’m not shaming you,” I responded with a light laugh, after seeing his playful pout. “You work damn hard for your money and can spend it how you please.”

  “I could’ve gotten us the presidential suite,” he said, arching a brow. “This one seemed nice, though.”

  I didn’t miss the us in that sentence.

  The elevator took us up to the third floor, and I fought the urge to shove Jay against the wall and kiss him. Lust had nothing to do with it either. Okay, maybe lust had just a little to do with it. I mainly craved the closeness with him. Nothing felt better than his lips against mine.

  The door opened, and Jay placed a hand at the small of my back as I exited first with him close behind.

  “I feel like we’re in an antebellum mansion instead of a hotel,” I said, noting the fancy décor and historical feel to the place. “My mom would’ve loved this. She adored antiques and anything to do with history.”

  She’d had a library in our home that housed her favorite antiques, including Victorian high-back chairs and an old desk that had a heart carved on the inside drawer. I had the desk in my loft now and would sometimes run my fingers over the carving, wondering who put it there.

  “Well, you can enjoy it for the both of you.” Jay stopped once we were at the room and used the card to unlock the door. The light blinked green, and he pushed it open. “After you.”

  I hauled my suitcase inside and placed it on the floor. “Wow.”

  The light blue walls and white trim made the room feel open and light. The floor-to-ceiling windows helped with that too. I walked farther inside and saw that the living area was separated from the king-sized bed with a privacy wall and sliding door between the rooms. Jay’s suitcase sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, the flap unzipped but closed.