Page 52 of The Coppersmith Farmhouse (Jamison Valley 1)
As I set the table, I said a silent prayer that Jess would stop Wes before he could inundate Prescott with meth. Drugs were horrifying and with them came desperation. Addicts were willing to cross any line necessary for their next fix. I just hoped that when lines were crossed, Rowen and I would be safe.
“Time to talk, honey. Before we get back to the farmhouse.”
Jess and I had just left his mother’s place, an old rundown trailer on the edge of town.
Maisy was hanging with Rowen until we got back to the farmhouse and then she was taking off, likely to start prepping for her date with Everett. While raiding my closet, she had gone on and on about exfoliation, hair removal, nail painting and such. With all she had planned to do, I figured she’d need every minute of the next twenty-four hours to get ready for her date.
Jess and I had originally planned for an evening alone. We were going to eat at the café and then I’d have my first sleepover at his house while Maisy stayed with Rowen.
And I really wanted that. All of the making out and groping we’d been doing for the last three weeks had me so hot and bothered I was about to combust.
But this day had not gone as planned. Not even close. Starting with Ryan and his construction crew and ending with my first trip tonight to Jess’s childhood home. And now we would be delaying a night alone together again.
“I know you’re mad about the barn, Georgia. Wasn’t a big fan of you telling me over voicemail.”
“Sorry. I should have waited to talk to you but I couldn’t keep it in. I was too angry and your voicemail was all I had,” I said.
“Maybe next time try and contain it until I answer the damn phone, huh? At least yell at me when I can fucking respond.”
“I’ll try but can’t make any promises.”
“Good enough,” he muttered.
“Jess, I am not okay with you tearing down the barn.”
“Don’t know if you noticed, Freckles, but it’s almost done. Ryan’s crew probably has half a day left, tops. Next week, it’ll be gone. Besides, isn’t that what you wanted? You’re the one that was willing to risk lung cancer to burn it down.”
“You’re right. Let me rephrase my protest. I’m not okay with the manner in which you went about having the barn torn down,” I said.
“Yeah? And what manner was that? Making it so you never had to go in there again? Never had to think about it again?”
“I understand you were trying to do something to help me, Jess. And I appreciate that. But you can’t just make those types of big decisions without talking to me first.” I was trying to keep calm but his tone was making my blood pressure rise.
“Georgia, you were the one that said you wanted the barn gone. That you couldn’t go in there again. Now you don’t have to. How is that a problem?”
“Fine. It’s gone. You win.” I threw my hands in the air. “But you’re not paying for it. That is my responsibility.”
“I’m getting sick of reminding you that I pay, Georgia. Jesus, seems like I have to remind you every fucking day.”
“This isn’t a dinner, Jess. Or coffee. This is a barn. And, apparently, a garage too.”
“I. Pay.”
“No. You. Don’t!” I yelled. “Not with something this big. It’s my property and, I’ll repeat, my responsibility.”
Rather than respond, Jess yanked the car to the side of the road and threw it in park.
“You saw where I grew up tonight, Georgia. Saw the mess. Saw the filth. I never had a home worth keeping up. Worth making into something nice. Because why would I bother fixing up a shit hole? I could spend thousands on that place and it’d still be a shit hole. So when Ben asked me to keep up his place, I jumped at the chance to have something good. Something clean. Something she wouldn’t neglect and ruin. And I’ve been working at that for almost twenty years. Imagine my fucking disappointment when I thought I had to give that all up.”
The farmhouse. That was why he was with me. Why he pushed so hard to date me. Why he went from a jackass to a boyfriend overnight. Why all of a sudden he was bringing me coffee and taking me to dinner. Why he was calling Rowen “little bit” and bringing us kittens. He didn’t want me. Why would he? He could have someone much better.
Tears started to fill my eyes because it finally all made sense.
“I knew it. You’re with me because of the farmhouse,” I said.
“What?” he clipped, “Fuck. You’re not even listening to me.”
“Oh, I’m listening, Jess. And it sounded like you just said that the house I’m living in has been your sanctuary for the last twenty years, and your only shot at keeping it is to hook up with me.”
