Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3)

by Mary Crawford

  A little surprised when I openly bust him. However, his chagrin doesn’t last long and he grins sheepishly as he asks, “Wouldn’t you?”

  I knew that all of this was taking a toll on Declan; I guess I just underestimated how much.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t know how much you can do. It’s just that I feel like everything that I believed about myself might not be true. I always thought I was almost completely to blame for the collapse of my relationship with Shannon, but now it seems like Rowan and I were both just pawns in some game that we’ll never figure out.”

  “I agree. Whatever it was, it was a pretty sick and twisted game,” I commiserate.

  “You haven’t even heard the worst part of it yet. Her deception is far more reaching than I ever knew and involved her friends and family.”

  “I’m sorry she did that to your family,” I remark. “You guys deserve better.”

  “The weird thing is trying to figure out how she changed my perception of myself. I always figured if I couldn’t make it work with her, as hard as I tried, maybe I didn’t really have what it takes to have a real relationship. I spent years — and I do mean years — avoiding having any sort of committed relationship at all because I felt like I didn’t have the interpersonal skills to pull them off. I know now that my logic was faulty, but I remember thinking that if I couldn’t make it work with the woman who had captured my soul, who I thought about with every waking breath, what possible chance would I have with anyone else?”

  “Wow! She really did a number on you,” I observe.

  “That’s the sad thing, it wasn’t just me; it was the whole family. Because of all the garbage that went around and my anger over it, I shut myself completely off from everyone that would’ve been a supporter. So, I just left. I stopped talking to everyone. I made a lot of faulty assumptions. I figured that no one in my family was anything like me or could ever support my love of music. It never occurred to me that I might be wrong.”

  “How are you feeling about things now?” I ask.

  “Confused, ripped off, angry, duped, embarrassed and ashamed for what I put my mom through. If I had been more honest about how I was feeling, maybe I wouldn’t have felt the need to escape. I didn’t realize that my mom cared so much — it kills me to see her heartbroken. If that weren’t bad enough, then to realize that most of this was just based on a bunch of misunderstandings makes it a million times worse.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t think you can take all the blame on yourself. You weren’t the only one who wasn’t communicating clearly. Hindsight is a wonderful thing — if we could all live our lives knowing what we should’ve known, it would be much easier, but we can’t. We can only make decisions based on what we know, not on what we wish we knew.”

  “I think you are way too quick to cut me some slack. I was a really huge asshole back then. I’m not sure a whole lot of people were sad to see me hit the road and honestly, I can’t say I blame them,” Declan confesses, as he absentmindedly handles the gold money clip that Connor gave him.

  “I don’t know a lot of teenagers who don’t meet that definition. I wouldn’t beat myself up over it if I were you. It seems that fate has given you a chance to redefine yourself — even though the circumstances are not ideal, this gives you a chance to mend fences with your family while you help out your dad.”

  Declan looks up at me with a pained expression on his face as he says quietly, “I suppose you’re right. Somehow I can’t help but feel that maybe this is another chance for me to completely lose sight of who I am. Am I a car salesman who plays a little music or am I a serious musician who happens to be selling cars?”

  I jump off my barstool and stand between Declan’s legs as I wind my arms around his neck. It never ceases to amaze me how much the two of us have in common. It seems like a lifetime ago that I thought he was just a carefree drifter who couldn’t be bothered to find a real job. Now I know he is as stuck as I am — torn between the person he needs to be for himself and the person everyone else wants him to be.

  “What if you are an amazing musician who is talented, thoughtful and gracious, while at the same time loyal to your family? I think it’s okay to set aside your career to help your dad who is in a tight spot. I don’t think that makes you any less of a musician at heart. I think it’s entirely consistent with who you are. If you were not as open to the needs of others, it would be harder for you to do your job,” I reason.

  “I’m so tired of trying to figure all this out. It’s like the puzzle pieces don’t match. It’s not possible to make everyone happy,” Declan declares with a deep sigh.

  I lean over and kiss Declan, teasing his lips with my tongue before taking the kiss deeper. “I think we have the night off from solving the world’s problems. You ran away from home, remember? I think we should take advantage of our time as fugitives. It seems to me that we’ve got a pickup with a canopy and some sleeping bags and feather pillows. I brought some stuff to make s’mores and the beach looks pretty deserted tonight. I don’t know about you, but to me that sounds like the makings of a perfect party for two.”

  “It still amazes me that you drive a big 4 x 4; with your jet set life, I would’ve expected you to have a little sports car,” Declan comments, as we walk back to my truck.

  “Trust me, I did not escape the show-off stage, Dad has some pictures of me in some pretty atrocious miniskirts with a bright red Corvette convertible I was sure I had to get right after Over It hit it big. I thought I was pretty hot stuff; fortunately for the world, my giant ego stage didn’t last forever.”

  “Jett must’ve liked the Corvette,” Declan comments with a grin.

  The wind gusts and I have to stop walking for a moment. “I think that was part of the reason that it was difficult for me to keep it. My dad did love it and Onyx would have too. My dad and my brother loved to work on cars together. It was their thing. Onyx would’ve gone ape-shit over that car and the fact that he couldn’t, made me cry every time that I tried to drive it. Finally, I reached my breaking point and one day, I met a Make-A-Wish teen who had just gotten his driver’s license. I could not believe that of all the things in the whole world he wanted to do before he died, he chose to come visit Ink’d Deep and hang out with me — so, when we went out to lunch and he caught a glimpse of my car and had an over-the-top reaction, I talked to his mom and gave it to him.”

  Declan pulls me back toward his side and kisses me on the top of my head. Most people would think this was a patronizing gesture but I’ve come to recognize that Declan often does this as a stalling gesture when he can’t think of anything to say. We stand there for a few moments watching the waves crash against the surf before he says, “Jade, I don’t think you get enough credit for being the most epic example of human generosity I’ve ever seen. I’d be willing to bet that I’m the first person you’ve ever told that story to, right?”

  Inexplicably, I blush as I respond, “Technically, no. I had to tell Rogue what I did because I needed a ride home.”

  “Did you tell Jett? That’s not exactly something you could hide from him—”

  “Have you seen Smoke recently?” I ask with a smirk.

  “Yeah, the guy is running out of real estate for tattoos.”

  “Smoke has a plan to become one of those inked fitness models. I’ve been trading him tattoo work for a vintage Harley that my Dad is working on as a project bike. I think my dad believes that I traded my car in for it. I just never bothered to correct his assumption.”

  “So, that’s why you nearly killed yourself that day to do his back piece in one sitting?” Declan guesses.

  I shake my head to confirm. “Mm-hmm. Smoke had a big photo shoot that weekend and there was no way to photo-retouch his tattoo because it was so intricate. It was kind of an all or nothing undertaking.”

  “I reassert my contention that you are an epic human being.”

  “No more so than you,” I cou
nter, as we get to the back of my truck.

  “Would you mind lifting the cooler and boxes out for me? I tweaked my shoulder when I was helping your mom with groceries.”

  I’m insanely excited about what’s coming next, it’s been ridiculously hard for me to keep my secret. When Declan just nods and pulls out his set of truck keys — yeah, it’s crazy we exchanged keys to stuff a few months ago, we are like a truly domesticated couple now — it’s all I can do not to start dancing like a kid on Christmas Eve.

  In 3 — 2 — 1… I mentally count down as I hold my breath. “What did you do?” Declan asks suspiciously as he sees the very large box with his name on it. He removes the box from the back of the truck and sets it on the beach in front of me. I had forgotten how oversized the box actually is, Claire and I had to go to an appliance store to find a large box to try to disguise the gift. I wrapped it in Peanuts themed paper and placed a bunch of festive bows all over it. Grabbing one off the box and sticking it on the top of his head, I take a picture with my cell phone as I say, “It’s a present, silly. I think most people open them.”

  “I thought Mom was planning a big party to make up for Dad missing Christmas. Don’t you want me to open it there?”

  “Nope. I have other presents for that day. This one is for just us,” I clarify.

  “That’s not exactly fair, I don’t have anything for you. You didn’t say there were going to be presents. You caught me empty-handed,” he protests.

  “Don’t worry about it, you are my present. This isn’t a competition. For the first time in years, I wake up with a smile on my face; that is priceless to me.”

  “I still don’t understand why you got me a huge present. This hasn’t been a very fun time for you. I’ve been gone all the time and sort of dumped you on my mom. I’ve been cranky and inattentive since my dad got sick; if anything, you deserve the presents, not me—”

  This time, I can’t help myself and I roll my eyes with impatience. “I’m sure that I’ve explained this to you a dozen times before. I do nice things for people that I love. I love you a lot, so I did a really nice thing for you. Will you please just open the box. Opening presents is one of my favorite things to do. I want to see if you like what I got you. I’ve been waiting what seems like forever to do this for you.”

  Declan’s mouth opens in shock as he responds, “Do you realize what you just said?”

  I shrugged nonchalantly as I answer, “Yeah? I love you. I thought we established that a while ago. I’m sleeping next to you at night and your toothbrush is right next to mine in the bathroom. I don’t do that for just anybody.”

  “I didn’t say you did,” Declan argues. “It just feels a little different to hear you say out loud.”

  I am a little baffled by his reaction because it just never occurred to me that we’ve never said all the usual stuff people say in a relationship. We just went from being friends to being inseparable. There never seemed to be any formal boundary lines between us. I didn’t consciously not say the words; I guess I thought he knew.

  “Different bad or different good?” I ask cautiously, as I’m suddenly filled with dread. What if he didn’t want our relationship to go this far? What if he just wanted to be friends with benefits?

  Declan suddenly picks me up and spins me around. He is grinning from ear to ear as he says, “Different good! Absolutely good, as in the best news possible. You just made my whole freakin’ year, Jade Petros. I’m actually glad that I got mugged.”

  I gasp when he says that. “Declan, I really wish you wouldn’t say that. Those punks did such a number on you that you could’ve easily died. Even if it did mean that we fell in love — I don’t know that I’ll ever view it as a good thing.”

  Declan hugs me tighter and kisses me passionately before pulling away and vowing, “As much as that beat down hurt, if that was the price I had to pay to have you in my life, I would willingly pay every single day.”

  My eyes tear up a little as I admit, “That’s not exactly the declaration of love I always envisioned as a little girl, but it totally does it for me.” I kiss his jawline and rub the pad of my thumb along his bottom lip before I give him another kiss. “Just for the record, you don’t have to go around getting beat up for me, I like you in one piece without bruises.”

  Declan chuckles softly as he says, “I’ll take note of that, especially if I decide to busk on Everett’s bus.”

  “Now, please open your present before I collapse from impatience. I’ve always been really bad at this part of present giving. I’m one of those really weird people who like to give presents almost more than I like to get presents.”

  Declan takes the bow off of his head and puts it on mine as he declares, “Maybe I won’t even open this, maybe you’re enough of a present for me.”

  I quickly try to snatch it off of my head and put it back on his as I screech, “Please don’t do that! I worked so hard to surprise you with this. Don’t ruin my surprise, please.”

  Declan chortles with laughter as he responds, “Come on Jade, I’m the middle child. Do you really think that I’m going to turn down the opportunity to get a present that’s all mine? I don’t think so!”

  “Then quit stallin’! You’re driving me crazy,” I reply with a laugh as I push him toward the box.

  It takes him a little while to get through all the wrapping paper and the two boxes we placed it in, but soon enough he reaches the prize. When he does, it’s exactly the reaction I wanted to get. He is so into what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice me taking a video of it with my phone.

  He looks up at me with tears in his eyes and says, “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” I confirm. “I’m sorry it’s not autographed by Roy Rogers like your old one.”

  “B-b-but,” Declan stammers, “This is a Framus Hootenanny? John Lennon used to play this brand of guitar.”

  I shake my head excitedly as I answer, “It’s a 1964. I thought about trying to get one that John Lennon signed, but I decided I’m rather attached to having a roof over my head and food to eat,” I explain.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Declan exclaims with a surprised chuckle. “Museums can’t afford stuff signed by John Lennon. Are you crazy? I can’t even imagine how much you paid for this. I’m almost afraid to touch it.”

  “I took it to the University of North Florida’s music department to have it authenticated before I bought it from this very nice retiring high school music teacher. Although they were very impressed and suitably reverent, they said that it was an instrument that should be played,” I disclose with an admittedly watery smile. Declan’s reaction is everything I hoped it would be and more. The only thing that would’ve been better is if I could’ve located his original guitar. Unfortunately, an exhaustive search of pawn shops in Florida and surrounding states hasn’t located it.

  Declan sits and stares at the open guitar case for several minutes. He’s just mutely shaking his head. He gets off the truck bumper and walks aimlessly down the beach a few feet. I can see him tearing his hands through his hair. Of all the reactions I expected him to have, this was not one of them. He seems upset. I am at a loss. I thought he’d be thrilled. He is an unabashed music history buff and a huge John Lennon fan. When I found this gem, I thought I’d hit the gift-giving lottery. According to the experts, it’s in practically perfect condition for an instrument so old. I don’t even know how to process this. I thought he would unequivocally love it. I know it’s not his old guitar, but still…

  I’m lost in thought when he comes back and sits on the tailgate. He touches my shoulder and I about jump out of my skin. It is getting late and the sun is disappearing, but I can still see the intensity in his eyes as he asks, “Why?”

  “I thought we covered the ‘why’ already,” I answer, confusion clear in my voice. “I bought it because I knew you would love it and it would make you happy. I knew that you were devastated when they took your other guitar and I knew that you would totally appreciate the histo
ry behind this one. I bought it because I love you.”

  “Jade, you know that most of the time I don’t make very much money. I can’t give you presents like this. I would have to save forever to get a guitar like this and even then I probably couldn’t afford it.”

  “Declan there’s more to life than just money and I don’t know if I can ever adequately explain it to you but let me try—”

  “Says the woman whose TV show went into syndication,” he interjects.

  “Fair enough, but even when I was bringing in big bucks, I didn’t have what I have with you,” I argue.

  Declan’s eyes light up with mirth as he quips, “Oh, there are so many ways I can interpret that comment.”

  I blush at the speculative gleam in his eyes, “In a different conversation, I might actually be talking about that, but not right now. What I’m talking about is the sense of peace that I have when I’m around you.”

  Declan snickers as he retorts, “Yeah, right. I’m not sure I would describe what we have between us as peaceful. Haven’t you noticed that we tend to argue about every little thing from toilet paper to laundry soap and everything in between?”

  I lift my shoulder in a half shrug as I acquiesce, “True, we have our moments over the stuff that doesn’t matter. But let me tell you about the stuff that does — the stuff I keep buried so deep inside I don’t even admit it out loud to myself very often.”

  “Am I going to need a drink for this conversation?” Declan jokes.

  “Quite possibly,” I answer honestly. “If you don’t, I might. At the very least, we might want to get comfortable.”

  If I thought setting up camp would be enough of a distraction to postpone our difficult conversation, I was sadly mistaken. After Declan got the fire started and we returned to the truck and crawled into the sleeping bag, he turns to me. “I’m really curious to find out how you see my presence in your life as peaceful. I feel like I’ve brought nothing but chaos.”