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hardened, his eyes telling me to not even think about it.

“Right.” I slumped back in my chair, playing with my teaspoon. “Does Jetta know?”

“She didn’t. She does now.”

I nodded. Paxton had told the guys to keep things on the down-low with Jetta. Apparently, he didn’t want her to worry. Personally, I thought it was a dick move. Paxton handled her with kid gloves, intentionally keeping her in the dark. Jetta was the victim here, she had every right to know about progress on the case.

“Explain to me how this concert came about?”

Jarrett shifted his weight, settling back in the chair. “Apparently her uncle, Paul White, was drummer for her dad’s band.”

“He’s a producer now, right?”

“Yeah. And he manages Courtney.”

“This was meant to be Courtney’s concert?”

“Yeah. But with her in rehab, and Paul trying to keep that on the down-low, he went back to the sponsors and pitched an alternative.”

“Jetta and her parents’ band reuniting?” I scratched absently at the healing scar on my thigh. Jarrett reached out, swatting my hand away.

“Stop scratching. But yes. It’s the ten-year anniversary of the Olivers’ deaths. White proposed a reunion tour instead of cancellation.”

“But the tickets would have already been sold to teenagers. Courtney’s not exactly targeting her parents’ demographic.”

“The tickets were refunded. But the venues are the big cash. Even with insurance, they would have lost out.”

“So, Jetta’s agreed to sing?”

“She’s headlining.”

“She any good?”

Jarrett shrugged. “No idea.”

“Well let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.” Jarrett stood, collecting our plates and cups, placing them in the dishwasher. I lifted, standing with the help of the walker.

“Thanks for coming over. I miss you guys.”

Jarrett paused by the door. “He come yet?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Right.” Jarrett’s face tightened.

“I’m leaving, Jarrett. He has every right to be upset. He’s losing a star employee.”

“If you think that’s the only reason he’s upset, then you’re either an idiot or he’s an ass who’s letting you think that.” Jarrett shook his head. “I’ve seen you two together. You have more chemistry than me and Ricky Martin.”

I ignored the pleasant shiver that sparked down my spine at his words. “You’ve never met Ricky Martin.”

“And if I ever did, we would make sweet explosions together.”

We both chuckled. “Go.” I shoved his arm with one hand. “Get back to work.”

He winked. “On it. Bye, baby girl.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

The door clicked shut leaving me with the walker and a room full of sadness.

“It’s better this way,” I reminded myself. “It’ll be easier in the long run.”

If only I could convince myself.

Chapter Twelve

Luc

The lights outside Pax’s office blinked off. I glanced at the clock, registering the late hour. The office was empty but for Pax, Jarrett, and myself. We were in Pax’s office, nursing beers, pondering the woes of the world.

“She’s driving me crazy.” Pax muttered, thumb wearing at the label of his bottle.

“Emmie?” I asked.

“No, Jetta.” He looked up, giving me a frown. “Why… no. I don’t want to know.”

“I do.” Jarrett pointed at me. “First, we’ll deal with Mister Grumpypants, then we’ll get to you.”

He tipped his bottle towards Pax. “Time to spill, Elliot.”

Pax sighed, slumping back in his chair. “Jetta is…”

“Awesome? Talented? Gorgeous? Funny? Intelligent?” Jarrett prompted.

“Yes. And confusing, difficult, fearful, different.”

“Mate.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s been ten years. Of course, the woman is going to be different. She’s grown. You’ve changed.”

Pax tapped a finger on the desk. “She’s difficult.”

“How?”

I watched him search for the words. “She… challenges me. Wants me to be someone I’m not.”

I frowned, exchanging a glance with Jarrett. “What? You mean a show pony or something?”

“No. She wants everything. No secrets, no half-truths. She wants shit I’m not sure I can give her. I’m not even sure I can be true to myself. The only way I survived the shit we went through overseas is by building walls.”

Afghanistan. Death of men I’d called brothers.

I took a long gulp of my beer.

“Do you love her?”

Pax blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t think I ever really stopped. And it’s fucking terrifying.”

We were all quiet for a few moments.

“Do you want a future with her?” I asked.

Pax took a long moment. “For as long as I’m here, yes.”

“Well, shit.” Jarrett huffed. “Go home and get your house in order. The girl isn’t asking a lot.”

“I don’t know how to give her the trust she’s asking for. I don’t know how to build that between us.”

“Well, having this fucking conversation with her would be a good start.” Jarrett pointed out.

Pax shoved up from the desk, heading for the door. “Shit. I gotta get home.”

I sniggered, taking a sip of my beer.

“Oh no.” Jarrett turned to me, waggling a finger in my face. “You’re next, buddy.”

“What did I do?”

“When was the last time you saw Em?”

I crossed my arms, staring Jarrett down. “When she last invited me.”

“That girl is crazy about you.”

“Bullshit. She’s leaving. She’s not interested in a–”

Jarrett held up a hand, sighing. “Goddamn straight people. Oprah, give me strength.” He focussed back on me. “Swallow your damn pride, get in your fucking car, and go speak to her. She says she’s leaving. Bitch, she hasn’t left yet. Make her want to stay.”

“She’s just been shot. The last thing she wants is me hitting on her.”

“Ru Paul, Diane Sawyer, and Freddie Fucking Mercury, give me strength!” Jarrett cursed, crossing himself. “I’m not asking you to bang her. I’m telling you to be her friend. Emmie is a woman who needs to be handled gently. Not because she’s weak or a woman, but because she’s got trust issues. She needs to be wooed.” Jarrett pointed the neck of his beer at me. “Woo her.”

I sat back, considering his words. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“The truth always hurts.” Jarrett stood, stretching. “And now Jarrett’s relationship counselling session is over. I’m off to my tinder date. If I’m not in tomorrow, don’t call me.” He walked out, leaving me nursing a beer in Pax’s empty office.

Woo her.

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