My clothes got pummeled as soon as I stepped off the back porch, but I didn’t speed up into a run. I never ran in the rain. My bootcut jeans covered my legs, but my toes were bare in my black flip-flops, and while my fitted black polo shirt wouldn’t go see-through with getting wet, my arms—bare in their short sleeves—already glistened with the light drizzle.
Stepping through the gate, I traipsed across Jax and Juliet’s revamped backyard, complete with a finished deck and a landscaping scene. Fallon had used her engineering and designing expertise to experiment with their space, making it even more beautiful and inviting.
I opened the back door and called out, “Jax!” I stepped in, closing the door behind me. “Juliet!”
“In here,” I heard her voice from the bathroom off the side of the kitchen.
Thunder rippled outside, and I bit back my smile as I damn near bounced to the bathroom.
But I stopped short, seeing Juliet leaning over the toilet, coughing.
“Whoa, are you okay?” I rushed to hold her up.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she grumbled, flushing the toilet and leaning back up and wiping her mouth with a hand towel. “One drink. One damn drink last night,” she complained, “and I wake up feeling like crap. Why am I such a lightweight?”
“You are.” I laughed, drawing her a glass of water. “I remember high school.”
She arched a brow, glaring at me. “I don’t want to relive that. You looked hot, and I was trying to be nice.”
“By throwing a beer on me?” I shot back, handing her the glass. “To cool me off, you said?”
She snorted and shook her head at the memory of how tipsy even a little liquor got her before taking some water. She’d never been a big drinker, which was probably good, because neither was Jax.
“I need to grab my cooler,” I told her over my shoulder as she followed me out of the bathroom. “I assume it’s in the garage?”
She nodded, setting down the glass and righting her dainty red peasant blouse, loosely tucking the hem into her jean shorts.
“And I need to get a change of clothes for Jared. Is Jax in the bedroom?” I inquired, not wanting to walk in on him.
“He’s in his office.” She jerked her chin to the stairs. “You may as well grab Jared’s whole bag. He probably won’t be spending any more nights here,” she teased.
Yeah, probably not.
I turned to leave, but she caught my hand.
“I’m happy for you,” she said, her tone even and serious. “You and Jared . . . I didn’t always think he was good enough for you, Tate,” she admitted. “But there was a time when I didn’t think I was, either.”
I stood there, happy that she’d surprised herself.
She squeezed my hand. “He’s a good man.”
I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks.”
Running up the stairs, I stepped into Jax and Juliet’s bedroom and spotted Jared’s black duffel in the corner by the window.
Quickly stuffing the spilled clothes inside, I lifted the bag by the straps and flung it over my shoulder, thankful that his time in ROTC had at least taught him how to pack light.
I made my way for the door but stopped, spotting a circular black leather box on the dresser.
My jaw tingled with excited energy as I picked it up. I knew I shouldn’t open it, but I had a feeling that Jax was going to ask Juliet soon. And if the ring was just sitting out, then he must’ve already asked her. I wanted to see it.
But then if he did, why hadn’t she told me?
I glanced at the door, seeing no one in the sliver of hallway visible, and looked back down, cracking open the box.
My heart pitter-pattered in my chest, and I felt a rush of excitement in my limbs.
The ring was on a platinum band encrusted with small diamonds, while the centerpiece was a princess cut surrounded by smaller chips. I didn’t know about carats, but the stone had to be nearly as wide as her finger.
“Wow.” I brought my hand to my mouth, covering my whisper. “Holy—”
“Shit?” I heard Jax finish and looked up to see him stepping into the room.
I smiled at him through the happy tears in my eyes. “Are you asking her to marry you?” I inquired. “Or have you already asked her?”
I was so excited for Juliet.
He looked away, the words caught in his throat. “Yes, actually,” he stammered. “But that’s not the ring I’m using.”
At my confused look, he shut the door behind him and spoke low.
“That’s Jared’s,” he told me. “He left it here when he came home a year and a half ago.”
Jared’s . . . ? What?
“He left it here when he came home to propose to you,” he finished, the solemn look on his face clearly waiting for my reaction.
My lungs emptied, and I just stood there. I couldn’t move.
Jared came home more than a year ago to propose to me?
I dropped the bag, leaning against the dresser, and closed my eyes, walking myself through what he must’ve felt when he saw me with someone else. Buying a ring, coming home still as in love with me as when he left, and seeing . . .
Jax grabbed my face, turning me to look at him. “Look at me, Tate.” Our eyes locked. “Stop, okay? You did nothing wrong. As with everything, it was bad timing.” His hands cupped my face firmly, and I breathed in and out, trying to move past the ache of regret. I’d never wanted to hurt Jared. But he’d hurt me when he left, and I’d had to push him away.