Page 15 of Echoes of a Southern Song

Chapter Six

Jack

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I FEEL HER GET UP, but don’t try to get out of bed myself. It’s early. Way too early. Her bed is small but comfortable and it smells like her. I can’t explain the feeling, but it’s like all of this is on borrowed time. I want to take advantage of every second I can get with her.

She isn’t kicking me out just yet. I listen to her in the bathroom and consider climbing into the shower with her. By the time I figure out what to do, she’s already out. She’s obviously in a hurry. I reach over and grab my phone. It’s not even five yet. Being off the farm the last couple of months and I’m already out of practice. Back then, I never needed an alarm. If I didn’t wake up on my own, my brothers or my dad made sure my ass was up.

She steps back into the room, her hair twisted up and the scent of citrus following her. I smile and inhale. It’s her body wash. She always has that hint of citrus about her. Now, I know where it comes from.

I watch her dress quickly. She’s efficient. A woman that isn’t worried about what shoes to wear or if her pants make her butt look big. She’s a woman on a mission. I catch her wrist as she passes the bed, pulling her down for one last kiss. She tastes like mint toothpaste.

“Don’t go,” I murmur against her lips.

She laughs, swatting my chest. “I have to.”

“But I want you again.”

“And I want you, but I’m going to have twenty customers banging on the bakery door wanting to know why they can’t get their fresh muffins and bagels. And let me tell you, they can get unruly.”

I grin, pulling her down for one more kiss. “I’ll let you go, but only because I don’t want to be responsible for a muffin riot. But tonight? You’re mine again.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “We’ll see.” She grabs her bag and heads for the door, pausing to glance back at me. “Lock up when you leave?”

“Of course,” I say, propping myself up on one elbow. “Go conquer the bakery.”

She gives me a mock salute and disappears out the door, leaving me alone in her quiet little house. I lie back, staring at the ceiling, her citrus scent still lingering in the air. My thoughts drift back to last night—the way she felt against me, the way she looked at me like I was everything she needed in that moment. But there was something in her eyes afterward, something unspoken. It’s gnawing at me.

I roll out of bed and grab my clothes, pulling them on quickly. The house feels too empty without her here, and I suddenly feel like an intruder. I make the bed haphazardly and head for the living area. Max is lazily stretching on the back of the couch.

“Hey, buddy,” I murmur, scratching under his chin. He purrs loudly but doesn’t open his eyes.

I grab a glass of water and lean against the counter, my mind racing. It would be so easy to just...stay. To move my stuff from Aggie’s spare room to Jinnie’s tiny house. To wake up like this every morning.

But it’s too soon. Too complicated.

With Sam lurking in the background and my own family drama brewing, the last thing Jinnie needs is more pressure. She’s not ready for that big step. Hell, neither am I. I have no idea what the future holds for me. It might not be here. There’s always a chance people get tired of my singing and my draw fades. Once winter comes, people are less likely to make the drive to the bar.

I know I can’t rely on Aggie’s kindness and generosity forever. What I’m doing now isn’t a life plan. It’s doing what works in the moment. Jinnie is only a little more settled than I am. I know she’s got her own desire to spread her wings and fly. Our destinies might be in different directions. I don’t want to add more chaos to our lives by dealing with a breakup that involves moving out and away.

“See you later, Max. Thanks for the respect last night.”

He barely acknowledges me. I suppose that’s better than trying to claw my eyes out. I lock the door behind me. The fresh air feels good and I take a minute just to appreciate it. It’s been a while since I’ve been up this early. Not since I was sleeping in a tent next to the creek.

The thought makes me smile. I climb in my truck and make the short trip back to Aggie’s house. I feel like I’m doing the walk of shame. Thankfully, she’s cool with me not coming home at night. But I know I owe her some kind of explanation. I assume she’s going to be in bed still. I can sneak in and catch another hour or two of sleep.

But when I open the door, I know that isn’t going to happen.

The house smells like coffee and bacon when I walk in. Aggie is humming off-key at the stove.

“Morning, sunshine,” she says without turning around.

“You’re up,” I say with surprise.

“I up home early. I need to head into town and get some things. I prefer to get there early before the heat hits. The heat and the people.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.