Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

But I knew it was more than that, too.

It was the way he was with Paige, the way he already cared for her as if she were his own. It was the way he saw all my scars and kissed them with reverence, as if they were what made me beautiful. It was quiet nights on his couch and lively afternoons in my backyard and secret kisses stolen in the locker room at work when no one was looking.

Somewhere, in the middle of all that, my fear and anxiety over what would happen if we were ever publicly together had faded. Somehow, the sense of knowing no matter what, we’d get through it together had taken its place. And some way, I’d fallen in love with the last possible man on Earth who I should have.

My stomach still tightened and rolled at the thought of what the town would say, the gossip that would fly. I still worried over Paige, though part of me knew she’d likely be excited about us being together, about Jordan being a part of our lives.

But the biggest hesitance still grew from the knowledge that my ex-husband was an angry, powerful man.

And I knew he wasn’t ready to let me go yet.

I squeezed Jordan’s hand, and he squeezed me back, his eyes catching mine just as Ruby Grace and Noah finished their last dance. The string lights above us seemed to fill his gray-blue sky eyes with stars, and my throat tightened, heart nearly pounding out of my chest with the need to tell him how I felt.

And I decided, right then and there, that tonight was the night I would turn my back on my fears, on what was holding me back, and I would finally break free of the chains my ex-husband had shackled around my wrists.

Jordan seemed to sense the erratic beats of my heart, because he leaned in close, whispering, “Take a walk with me?”

I nodded, and we politely excused ourselves from the table as the band picked up the mood, launching into a popular, upbeat country song that had the floor already flooded with guests ready to line dance.

Jordan didn’t hold my hand as we weaved our way through the tables, the music softly fading out the farther we made our way across the yard. There was an extravagant garden and gazebo between the wedding reception and the Mayor’s home, and we strolled through it quietly — him with his hands in his pockets, me with mine clasped behind my back.

For a while, we were silent but for the sound of our shoes on the stones lining the garden path. The vines and trees and bushes stretched so tall and wide that we were eventually hidden completely, the reception like another world altogether.

It was then that Jordan stopped mid-stride, and I turned, finding a mixture of pain and fear in his icy eyes.

My heart sank. “Jordan…”

“I know you can tell I’ve been off today,” he said.

I bit my lip, but nodded, moving toward him. My hands tentatively reached for where his were in the pockets of his slacks, and he withdrew them, threading them with mine. My heart picked up its pace, the beat of it loud in my ears as I shook with the words I wanted to say.

I love you.

They were on the tip of my tongue when Jordan looked around us, as if he were afraid we’d been followed, before lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “I found something last night.” He shook his head. “This morning. Whatever four AM is considered.”

My mouth was already open, ready to speak my truth, but I closed it slowly at his words.

“Found something?” I asked, confused, and suddenly, I was tracing back through my memory of the day, wondering if I’d read everything wrong.

Jordan nodded, looking around again before he pulled me over to the beautifully carved marble bench by the rose bushes. When we were both sitting, he let out a shaky breath, his eyes on mine.

“I’ve been sitting on this all day, but it’s eating me alive, and I just have to tell someone. I can’t tell my brothers — not yet. And, well…” He shrugged. “You’re the only other person I trust.”

My heart swelled, and I squeezed his hands, letting him know he could trust me — and that I trusted him, too.

“You know how I showed you my father’s journal? The one I’d been going through?”

I nodded, and at the mention of his father, my pulse ticked up another notch.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, I… I just had a lot on my mind,” he added quickly, dismissing that part of his story. “So I started working on the journal to tire myself out. But before I knew it, an hour and a half had gone by, and suddenly, I was on the last entry.”