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A laugh shot out of me. “The Dictator and the Duchess? What a pair we make.”
“We really do,” he said, descending for a kiss.
And we really did.
47
criminal
REMY
The smile I smiled when Jessa started singing along to Dolly, paintbrush in hand on the front porch, should have been illegal.
Nobody should be allowed to be this happy.
She had on her overalls, her hair in a loose ponytail with one of my old bandanas tied into a kerchief. Her hands were flecked with black paint as we worked on the trim.
It was September and had finally cooled off after a sweltering summer.
Thankfully, I hadn’t needed many clothes. I’d spent all my time wrapped up in Jessa.
Everyone had gone home within a day after The Ordeal, except for Jessa, who’d moved in with me. And Cass, who’d moved in with her mama where she could lick her wounds in peace. She’d even decided to stay, got a job at the elementary school and everything. While Davis and Henry were on her honeymoon—not a topic to bring up, and I had the scar to prove it—she flew back and packed up her stuff. Davis had even tried to give her money, like him leaving with Hank deserved some sort of severance package, for fuck’s sake.
Either way, she was settled back at home in Roseville and doing okay.
Not great. But she was doing okay.
Jessa and I, on the other hand, were getting on like a house on fire.
The initial deal was for a week, which quickly turned into two. Then it was a month.
We hadn’t talked about it since.
I was pretty sure that meant forever.
When I wasn’t at work, I was either with Jess, working on the house, or at ball practice. She’d gotten a work visa thanks to a local charity and her connections. Coach had me training like crazy for the Mountaineers tryouts I’d just attended in Sevierville, and now we were in the don’t-sleep-until-you-hear-from-us part of the process, which I was pretty sure was giving me an ulcer.
I looked up at the house, humming along with Jessa as she wiggled her ass. We’d done a lot so far—fixed the porch, put on a new roof, installed a new bathroom cabinet and fixtures. The kitchen was on the list, but that was gonna be such a pain in the ass, I kept pushing it to the bottom. Once we painted the rest of the house, I figured we could do the inside and maybe refinish the floors.
Jessa had been bringing home paint and fabric swatches since she decided to stay, outfitting the house with new curtains and rugs. But the couch was first, as promised. Nearly had to wrestle her to let me pay for anything—she insisted it was her way of paying rent. Easy enough since her dad didn't end up cutting her off after all. I guess Grace convinced him to let her go—he was so scandalized by Henry and didn’t have a better option for Jessa, so Grace’s stamp of approval on me was enough for him.
For that, I was more thankful than just about anything. I didn’t know how I’d have handled coming between her and her family, and I was glad never to find out.
My stomach flipped at an unbidden reminder that I was waiting on my fate with the baseball team. Jessa suggested I get in touch with the team’s scouts, which turned out to be easier than I imagined—one of them had seen me play in college and remembered me well enough. We got him to come to some of our Ramblers games over the summer, which would hopefully give me an advantage in tryouts. But who knew.
It was anybody’s guess.
I’d never been so fucking nervous as I was running drills with a bunch of kids fresh out of college. Never felt so old either. But I kept up with them, which felt like a big deal. And there were only a couple who could hit a ball farther than me.
So things could have gone worse.
It made me feel better seeing Jessa in the stands. My magic feather.
I’d never have done it without her.
I was so glad I did.
I was so happy she was mine.
