Page 58 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
Aubrey glanced at Willow and then narrowed her eyes on Jaxon. “I think you’ve done enough talking, don’t you?”
His reply died on his tongue.
The walls seemed to be shrinking in on him as his shame sapped the air from the room. He knew that not only did he have to make things right with Charly, but also with Willow and Aubrey. “I’ll set this straight with her,” he vowed, as he marched toward the door, not sure how he would undo the damage that had been done.
Seventeen
Charly’s eyelids felt heavy as she navigated the curvy two-lane road, leaving Willow and Aubrey to close the bar. The divorce party for the woman who came from a bigger city to the West was a smashing success. Word of the bar was getting out there, and Charly was glad for it. More locals were coming in and everyone looked like they were right at home. Gone were miserable faces, replaced by people having fun. But she felt like someone cracked her head open and scrambled the inside. She’d wanted to kick Jaxon where it hurt for what he’d said to Billy, but as the day had passed after talking to Sara, her anger had dissipated.
Now, without the fury, all that was left was soul-deep exhaustion.
The drive to Jaxon’s place was much too quick, considering she had no idea what to say to him. Being angry had been easy. Whatever this feeling was nearly strangling her was so much more complicated.
When she drove up the driveway, lights on either side of her car guided her up. The ranch was bathed in darkness, minus the bright light on the outside of the door and the porch light. But even with just those, she found Jaxon quickly. He was sitting on the porch steps, like he’d been there all along, waiting for her arrival.
Her car came to a stop next to his truck and she took a few deep breaths, trying to muster her courage for the difficult conversation ahead. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was the right thing, her heart full of uncertainty and apprehension, but there was no backing out now.
Jaxon tracked her with his eyes the whole time she moved to him. A combination of worry and shame weighed heavily on his face, and it seemed like he was just as uncomfortable as she was.
Good. She wanted him to sit in that discomfort a little. She’d been sitting it in all damn day.
The soft hooting of an owl in the distance was all that disturbed the peace of the night. The horses nearby grazed, their dark figures standing out against the silvery light of the moon.
Finally, standing next to him, she broke the thick silence that hung between them, and said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied softly.
She waited for all the things she wanted—needed—to say to come spilling out of her mouth, but nothing came.
In the heavy silence, Jaxon heaved a long sigh. “Please let me explain.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Charly told him wearily, taking a seat next to him on the porch steps. “You don’t even owe me an explanation.”
“Like hell I don’t—I obviously hurt you,” he argued fiercely. He took her hand in his, holding tight. “Please just listen to me.”
She stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. “What do you need to say?”
“I get why this looks bad,” he said, voice rough. “I’m ashamed of how I felt when you first took over the bar. I never should have gone to Billy. I never should have said that I wanted to buy the bar back. It truly was less aboutyou, and more about how the bar I built was changing into something I wasn’t ready for.”
“Don’t be ashamed,” she said. As much as she wanted to yell at him, she felt like she had a pretty good feel of who Jaxon was as a man. “I know giving up the bar wasn’t your choice. I also know what the bar meant to you. I get that. I understand that watching it being taken over and ripped apart must have been hard for you. I’m not mad about it.”
He arched a questioning eyebrow at her. “You’re not mad about it?”
“Well, I was mad about it, believe me,” she corrected with a soft laugh. “I thought I’d come here livid, saying all sorts of things that would hurt you. Because that’s how I felt when I heard what you said to Billy. But really, after calming down, I realized that I can’t fault you for being upset at what we’d done to the bar and desperately trying to find a way to save what you had built. We had dismantled your bar that you loved, and we’d pissed off a lot of the locals in the process.” She squeezed his hand in return, feeling a peaceful contentment settle over her in her decision. “The bar is better now because of you, and I’m grateful for that. That’s why I’m here—to tell you that you don’t owe me anything. We were both doing the same thing—trying to save the bar in the way we saw fit, and I probably would have acted the same as you had if the roles were reversed.”
“That isn’t true, Charly,” he said with conviction. “We aren’t the same. You are better than me. You’re incredible.”
Warmth spread throughout her chest, but she couldn’t even bring herself to smile. Deep down she just felt exposed and raw.
He dropped his chin, staring down at their held hands. “You’re really not mad at me?”
“I’m really not mad at you,” she said.
“Good,” he breathed, slowly shaking his head. “I’m so damn relieved. I thought I blew this.” He lifted his hand to reach for her face and went to lean in.
She pulled away, staying out of his reach. “You didn’t blow anything, but I can’t do this anymore.”
He frowned, slowly lowering his hand. “I thought you said you weren’t angry.”
