by S. L. Scott
I find Jason sitting in the bedroom by the window. He’s propped on a large trunk, and it’s clear from his posture he’s heavy in thought with his shoulders down. Leaning against the doorframe, I scan the room, wondering what he’s staring at. “What are you doing up here?”
His eyes find mine. “Thinking about life.”
“That’s heavy.”
Chuckling, he looks down again, fidgeting with loose threads of his black jeans. “Yeah, kind of.”
I go inside the pink room and sit on the end of the bed. “Shelby told me the farm is paid off.”
Almost expecting him to tense, I watch his shoulders for the subtle movement, but it doesn’t come. He’s relaxed, and I find comfort in that. When he finally looks at me, he says, “You would have never taken the money.”
“Because it’s yours. You put your life on the line for it.”
“Don’t you see, Delilah? There is no me without you. If I can do something to make yours and your sister’s, Paul and Lorraine’s, and my mom’s life easier, I will. Spending it on the farm feels like a good way to spend some money.”
I go to him, leaning down and hugging him. “Thank you. It’s not enough, but it comes from the heart.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to do it. I’m happy I can do it.” He adds, “I also bought my mom’s house and paid off her debts.”
Now I smile. “You are an amazing man, Jason Koster. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“I’m only amazing because you love me.”
“I always will.” We sit there a moment longer before he says, “Now that it’s paid off, what do you think about Shelby taking the farmhouse? I was thinking we could build the home of your dreams a few acres down, around the lake.”
Thrown for a loop, my words get caught in my throat. I just end up staring at him. “This is a lot to process. I think we should talk about money like you wanted to.”
“Okay. I’ll start.” He stands, his hand covering the side of my neck right before he dips sideways to kiss that ticklish spot behind my earlobe. Then he whispers, “I have a lot.”
A lot? I tilt back, seeking his eyes. When I find them, I ask, “A lot of money?”
He smirks with a nod. “Yes. I have a lot of money.”
“Do I want to know how much?”
Pulling back, he remains in front of me, but this time, his hands pace the length of my waist. “Since it’s half yours, I think it would be wise for you to know. That way we can make decisions on how to spend it together.”
My mind is struggling to wrap around this massive turn of events. “You’re giving me half your money?”
His arm works its way around my lower back as he teases. “You’re not going to make me sign a prenup, are you?”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh. “Not likely, Richie Rich.”
“Then we share everything fifty-fifty. How’s that sound?”
I pull him close, as close as we can embrace. “Equal in everything. That sounds like heaven on earth.” Tilting back once more to find a mischievous glint in his eyes, I say, “But to be clear, what you’re saying is you’re rich.”
He chuckles. “What I’m saying is we’re rich. Beyond rich.” Resting his head against the top of mine. He adds, “And the best is yet to come, honeysuckle.”
Not a prediction.
A promise.
31
Delilah
Some matches are made in heaven. And some are made right here in our little parcel of paradise.
Billy’s been here every day since Shelby’s arrival. He was here before Jason came back too, but his help hasn’t been needed as much since Jason started taking on more of the upkeep and maintenance of the farm.
He’s here for the second time today, though, because he forgot to “check on something left in the barn.” Sitting in the loft, I hear him muttering to himself and look down to see him pacing, psyching himself up to ask her out on an official date. I smile but remain quiet. Unfortunately, Jason doesn’t. “Stop fucking around and just ask her.”
I whack Jason’s leg. “Don’t tease him,” I warn while laughing. “The man is clearly crazy about my sister.”
Billy’s gaze darts up. “Oh, man. What are you doing out here?”
Jason calls from his reclined position on the bed. “Making love to my woman. Ask Shelby out and get it over with. I’m tired of watching you two dance around the obvious.”
I look over the edge at Billy again, and laugh. “Sorry. We should have told you we were here. It wasn’t nice of us to eavesdrop. But since we’re all here, Jason’s right. I think she’ll say yes, but you have to ask.”
“Any advice?” he asks.
“She loves sushi.”
His nose scrunches. “That raw fish?”
Jason chuckles. “Yep.”
I glare at him. “You’re being bad today.”
“I am. You should punish me. With your mouth again.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, “behave.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
I’m about to tackle him and show him how punishing my mouth can be and then let him punish me with his, but then I remember Billy is still here like his whole life is depending on some tidbit of insight I can give him regarding my sister. He says, “So catch a fish out back and give it to her?”
Jason says, “Go away, man. I have business to take care of.”
“But I need help,” he replies.
I peek over the edge again. “Just ask her. No gimmicks. No pretenses. No games. Just be you, Billy. She’ll appreciate the sincerity.”
“You’re right.” He appears empowered as he walks with purpose toward the house. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” I call after him. Shelby’s about to be the second luckiest girl in Freeland County. When he’s out of sight, I crank the fan up and turn back to Jason who looks devilishly sexy and smug lying there waiting for me. “About that punishment—”
“Punish away, baby.”
I do, and then I let him reciprocate, but it’s more making love and lust, punishment of the good kind.
Brooks was charged with aggravated assault, attempted murder, tax evasion, and fifteen counts of illegal gambling with no bail. I’m not sad in the least.
Us versus them.
He pled not guilty. Not surprising but he’s still an asshole.
As much as I wish we hadn’t experienced the nightmare of that night, it brought me to an understanding. Taking Jason’s hand as we watch him be charged, I have no regrets. I would put my life on the line time and again for the ones I love.
Cole Cutler is asked to stand. His assigned lawyer stands behind the defendant’s table with him nervously tapping his fingers against the tabletop.
My hands don’t shake. Anger is stronger than the fear he used to instill in me. The judge reads the charges, and then asks if he understands what he’s being charged with. With his head down, he replies, “Yes.”
The judge asks, “What do you plead?”
Cole’s lawyer whispers in his ear while I anxiously await his answer. I take a deep breath, holding it. Cole nods, looks at me, and then to the judge. “Guilty.”
The gavel strikes, causing me to jump. I whisper to Jason, “Did he plead guilty?”
“Yes.” This is what we wanted when we walked into the courthouse this morning, but the shock of it happening is staggering. I sink back in the seat, not sure what to do with myself or these welling emotions inside me. Jason’s chest deflates, and he exhales his relief. However, something in his body language surprises me. Grabbing the bench in front of us, he lowers his head.
I pop back up, rubbing his back. “What’s wrong?”
“He was my best friend.” When his eyes land on mine, he asks, “How could a person I once trusted be so intent to destroy our lives?”
That is a question I’ve given so much thought to but avoided thinking about in the aftermath of kicking him out and our divorce. I think I was still so she
ll-shocked about what I’d been through and doubtful that he’d ever really be gone from my life. And now I know that fear was well founded.
There’s no obvious reason for his actions. Greed? Hate? Sadness? “Jealousy.”
My marriage to Cole never felt real, not in the ways that count. Marriage is love and beauty, support and friendship. I was betrayed, tricked into believing I deserved less in life. He had to beat me down to keep me from seeing the truth. But I see. So clearly, I see what could have been versus what became. One rash decision changed our lives forever, and I’ll always carry half that blame.
But Jason’s forgiven me, so I need to start trying to forgive myself. It’s not about how long it took us to find our way back to each other. It’s that we found our way despite the detour.
Jason nods silently, but then moves to leave, taking me with him. His mother catches us in the hall, hugging us to her. “Is it over?”
“They were charged,” he says, assessing the courthouse exits. I wonder when he’ll truly be home and not need to know how to escape, if necessary. “Not sentenced. He pled not guilty, so he’ll go to trial.”
She looks from him to me and back to him. “What about Cole?”
“Cutler pled guilty and will go straight to sentencing. We have to wait.”
Meredith replies with a smile, “Well then, how about dinner tonight?”
We have dinner with her at least once a week, when she’s not busy with her boyfriend, Fred Carver from the hardware store. Jason starts grumbling, but I place an arm on him and reply, “We’d be happy to. Will Fred be there?”
“Yes. I think it’s time for my guys to spend some time together.”
“You’re killing me, Mom.”
“Oh, you’ll live. I have needs too—”
“No.” He rolls on his heel, turning his back to us. “I do not want to hear about your needs when it comes to stuff like this.”
“Maybe we’ll have a double wedding,” she teases. I love that she gives him a hard time. It’s good for him.
I joke, “Our girl is all grown up.”
“Don’t you start in.” Walking backward toward the doors, he says to her, “We’ll see you tonight.”
“Love you, Jase.”
“Love ya.”
I catch up to him, laughing and smacking his ass as I pass. He’s quick, though. And good with his hands. Correction: great with his hands. I’m scooped up in his arms outside the courthouse, kissed, and carried to the truck. I’d fight, but it’s a good way to travel—all bundled up in his arms.
When I’m set down, my back rests against the truck, and he cages me in. As always, I’m ready to make out right here on the sidewalk, but it seems he has other plans. “I want to take you somewhere.”
With how he’s looking at me right now, he can take me anywhere.
Needless to say, time hasn’t tempered our attraction or the chemistry between us.
I didn’t expect to be sitting across from Sabrina Smith inside Solace Pointe National Bank, but here we are. Cole’s name has been removed from all the farmhouse paperwork and put fully into mine and Shelby’s name. “It’s surreal,” I say to Jason, who’s sitting next to me.
Rubbing my leg, he nods. “It’s how it should be.”
Sabrina, in all her snooty flair, stands abruptly and taps the papers on the desk. “I’ll need to get my manager to handle your paperwork, Jason.”
When she leaves the cubicle, I whisper, “What is she talking about?”
Matching my tone, he replies, “Wait for it.” By the look in his eyes, this ought to be good.
The bank manager, Worley Hiccolms, comes in and heartily shakes our hands. “Mr. Koster. Ms. Noelle. Good to see you today.” He glares at Sabrina. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“Sure,” she says, playing it off like she’s not nosy and desperately wanting in on whatever this is.
Worley smiles like a Cheshire cat and pushes a piece of paper across the desk toward us. “Ms. Noelle has been added. We can update after the nuptials if there is a legal name change. If you could both sign here, she’ll be granted full access to the safety-deposit box and the two bank accounts.”
I bump my knee against Jason’s. He says, “Life is unpredictable. I thought it was a good idea to get you added sooner rather than later.”
The bank manager says, “It’s good to take precautions. Now, if you’ll sign here and here, you can be on your way, and we’ll take care of the rest.” Jason has me sign first, and then he signs on the line beneath mine. Worley stands eagerly. “I want to personally thank you for trusting your financial interests with our fine establishment.”
They shake hands. “Thank you. Don’t get robbed.”
“Eh, we’re insured.”
We all laugh politely through a round of goodbyes until we reach the sidewalk. I ask, “What was that about?”
“I guess he’s just happy to be working with us.”
“Jason?” My hand goes to my hip. “Be open with me. How much money are we talking about? Worley doesn’t treat everybody like that, so I’m assuming a lot. Twenty? Fifty? A hundred thousand?”
We reach the truck. With the door open in his hand, he says, “We can go inside and get a statement if you’d like.”
“No.” I climb into the cab. “Just tell me.”
He shuts my door and drags this out. Adding to the drama while he walks around to the driver’s side, he smiles smugly when I watch him through the windshield. When he slips into the cab of the truck next to me, he starts the engine.
“Jason, tell me.”
“You sure you want to know? I know how you get weird about money.”
“I’m not weird about money,” I reply defensively, but then ease into the seat, resting my elbow on the door. “Well, maybe I am. I’ve never had enough to know if I get weird or not.”
His arm is on the back of the bench while he reverses. “Well, after paying off the farm and Mom’s house, there’s two point eight million in the accounts.”
“What?” I shout, whacking his arm. My throat dries, and I start coughing.
Patting me on the back, he looks over, but I see the wry grin on his face. “Are you okay, baby?”
I clear my throat. “Two point eight million dollars? U.S. money?”
“No, in Oreos. Yes, dollars.”
Leaning back, I can’t even fathom that amount of money. “From jobs?”
“Yes. I was paid well.”
“That much is more than well, Jason.”
He shrugs as he pulls out and starts driving. “I was very good at what I did.”
“I would say so.”
“This is a lot to take in. I get it. Every penny I earned was for this life, for us. I know that sounds unbelievable. You were married. I shouldn’t have thought of you as more than someone else’s wife. I think deep down my heart knew where it belonged. I knew. This is where I belong. Right here with you. Call it kismet or luck, great timing, or great fortune. Doesn’t matter as long as I have you.”
Our hands reach out and find each other in the middle.
This is love.
Pure.
Soul-enriching, life-affirming, deep-seated, raw, messy, and real love.
Getting a second chance to be with this generous and kind soul is more than kismet or great timing.
It’s destiny.
I walk into the barn and climb the ladder to the loft. We can’t live up here forever, and definitely not through the winter, but it’s been fun. It’s been the escape from the house we needed after that night we were attacked.
When I reach the top, I spot a large gift box on the middle of the mattress. Sitting down next to it, I take it, smiling before I even lift the lid. I don’t understand the present inside, but maybe the note can explain. I pull the card from the envelope and read:
Dear Delilah,
For old times’ sake, please wear this uniform and meet me at the stadium one more time. I’ll be waiting for you at 8 p.m.
; Love you,
Jason
Holding the note to my chest, I blink back tears. But it’s hard when every day I’m given with the love of my life is a blessing.
I set the note aside and reach for the uniform. Laughing, I stand and hold the skirt to my hips. Not sure if this will still fit, but I’m willing to squeeze into it for Jason. With the top and bottom part of the uniform in hand, I rush back down the ladder and into the house.
“Shelby?” I run to the hall and call upstairs, “Shelby? Where are you?”
“Stop yelling, Delilah. I’m in here,” she calls from the other room. It’s been great having my sister home. Working remotely is allowing her to rediscover her love for country life. With the farm paid off, she gets to decide her future and whether she returns or stays. Secretly and not so secretly, I hope she stays.
I rush into the kitchen, my boots coming to a halt against the linoleum. Holding up the outfit, I ask, “Will you help me get ready?” A smile already sits on her face when she turns around with an iced tea in hand. Like me, she can’t hide anything in her eyes. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs before setting her glass on the table and taking me by the arm. “Come on. Let’s get you ready.”
32
Jason
Billy drives his fists down on my shoulders. “All done.”
Suited up in my old football uniform, the jersey is stretched across my broader shoulders. “It’s been a long damn time since I wore pads.”
“You’re a big dude, you know that?”
Chuckling, I bend down to tie my shoes. “Yeah. I’m aware.” When I stand, the cleats add some height. “Shorty.”
“At six one, I’m not usually considered short.”
“Eh, don’t worry. We’re not playing football anymore. What time you got?”
