Page 82 of Riding High

Well…

‘Well, it stops.Right here, right now.’Jed raised his eyebrows at the determination coating his words.‘Let me make it very clear… you are not responsible for us, Jed.We…Ilove you, no matter what you do or do not do, or achieve.My love for you isnotconditional.’

Until he heard the words, he hadn’t realised how much he needed them, how he ached to believe them.Shards of hard cement and bits of steel dropped off his heart and crashed to the ground, splintering.He felt raw, but free.

Loved.

He might be the captain of his country’s polo team, an ace carpenter, his siblings’ protector, but he was also a son, a brother… someone who sometimes needed to lean, finally safe in the knowledge that everything he’d worked for and valued wouldn’t be taken away because he wasn’t enough.

Yet, according to Troyden, he was.Enough.More than, as it turned out.

He pushed his index finger and thumb into the corner of his eyes and sniffed.He wasn’t crying, but, shit, it was close.Troyden patted his back.‘Now that we’ve got that sorted, what are you going to do about Eden?’

He sighed.‘I have no bloody idea,’ he admitted.He clasped his hands together and bit down on his bottom lip.‘I didn’t believe her, stand up for her, and that’s on me.’

‘Yet you still haven’t apologised.It’s not like you to avoid a problem,’ Troyden commented.‘So why are you ignoring her?’

Ah, shit, this was hard to admit.‘Because if I don’t do anything, if I leave it, then, in my head, we are still together.By talking to her I risk losing her.’

Troyden shook his head, but his face was full of love.‘You, my boy, are a bloody basket case.’

Well, he wasn’t wrong.‘She doesn’t need me, Dad,’ he whispered.

‘Jed, that’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard you say.’

He huffed out a laugh, but it was hollow.‘It’s true.She’s brilliant and strong, and—’ He swallowed, his chest aching.‘She was fine before me.She’ll be fine after me.’

His father’s eyes softened.‘Yes, maybe she will be.Maybe you’ll both be okay.But has it occurred to you that fine isn’t the same as happy?’

* * *

Eden skidded into the kitchen and winced when she saw the familysansJed (he was still avoiding her) gathered around the table in the kitchen.They could afford to have a leisurely breakfast, but it was the day of the charity polo match, and she had a million things to do.Breakfast was not on the list.

‘Sit down, Eden,’ Diana told her, her stocky frame enveloped in an apron embroidered withI’m gorgeous and I can cookacross her ample chest.

Eden shook her head.‘No time, Di.I’ll just take a cup of coffee in a travel mug.’

Diana pointed her spatula at the open chair next to Mick.‘Sit.Stay.’

Damn, she wasn’t a goldendoodle.‘Okay, but only for five minutes.’

Diana dumped a hefty amount of bacon onto a slice of home-made white bread as big as a doorstop and slid the plate in front of her.She slapped another slice on top and expertly cut it in half.‘Eat.’

‘Not exactly a gourmet breakfast, Di,’ Mick said.

‘Do you want food?’Diana retorted.When Mick nodded, chastised, she turned back to the stove.‘Eden has a long day ahead of her and needs the energy.Eden, you said you were in a hurry, the sooner you eat, the sooner you can go.’

Right.Okay, then.Eden lifted the sandwich to her lips and took a huge bite.God, it was good.A bacon butty was the food of the gods.

While she chewed, she took in the family sitting around the table.Mick was dressed in tailored shorts, a pink camisole under a thigh-length jacket, and stiletto ankle boots, Justin in a gorgeous white linen shirt and Alistair in a grey suit.Troyden rocked the eccentric billionaire look by wearing old brown cords, an untucked white, collared shirt, a bright red silk scarf and a pink baseball cap.Eden’s gaze hopped from face to face.They were so different, but they looked like a family.

They wereherfamily.Obsessed with his spreadsheets, constantly-on-his-phone Alistair, fun-but-astute Justin, her soul-sister Mick, and Troyden, the closest to a father figure she’d ever have in her life.But the picture was missing its centre: it had a big Jed-sized hole.She didn’t know if it would be filled or not…

Her roiling emotions, her anger at being disappointed by him, had faded to more manageable levels, but she knew they needed to have a conversation in order to move forward.Since she was the one who’d shut down their lines of communication– so stupid!– she had to approach him and hash it out.Whether moving forward meant walking side-by-side, she still wasn’t sure.Trust was imperative, and if Jed couldn’t give her that much, they were doomed from the start.They’d needed a little time, some distance, so she’d put off walking down to his cottage to talk to him for a couple of days, then a couple more.The urge to find him and beg him to give her a chance to redo their last conversation had been overwhelming at times, but that was quickly swamped by the thought that if she confronted him, there was an excellent chance he’d call it quits and dump her.She was terrified she’d blown her chances and preferred to keep them in a state of suspended animation rather than risk him breaking up with her.

Cowardly?Absolutely.

But therehadto be a way they could get past this or, at the very least, talk about it.They couldn’t keep avoiding each other for ever.That would be ridiculous.She’d regret it if she didn’t tell him she loved him.Her love for him was rare and infinitely precious and needed to be fought for.She couldn’t treat it lightly or brush it away because it was inconvenient or scary.She had to be brave and face it.She had to try and make the picture complete.