By tacit agreement, they stayed away from the subject of the hotel. Instead, Adam and Jay talked beer brewing and Laurel and Arabella gossiped about the rest of her brothers—namely Josh and Brian who’d yet to find the loves of their lives as Kane, Brady and Adam had. The only thing she had a hard time doing was keeping Brady’s secret about Harper’s pregnancy.
But if he hadn’t told the rest of the family, it was obvious that she shouldn’t do so for him, no matter how badly she wanted to share that good news.
It was late when they all finally parted and much to Arabella’s disappointment, Jay drove her back to Brady’s house instead of his place.
She twirled her fingers down the front of his shirt when he walked her to the door. “Sure you don’t want to...you know.”
He laughed and caught her marauding fingers. “I definitely want to you know. But Brady already wants to strangle me for sleeping with his baby sister. You spent the night with me last night. And the night before. If he has any more stress about it, I’ll feel guilty for causing his stroke.”
“He’s as bad as our father,” she muttered, even though a part of her was charmed by Jay’s version of gallantry.
“Besides.” Jay kissed her chastely on the forehead. “We had the bathtub earlier today. And you still haven’t finished Oscar and Aaron’s story. You’ve left them locked in the back of a moving truck. I need to know that they end up okay.”
She caught his hand before he could step off the porch and pressed it to her cheek. “I hope you know I’m falling in love with you.” The words just wouldn’t be contained. Any more than the fullness in her heart could be.
The only light shining over them came from the porch light that Brady had left burning just exactly the way her father had always done when they’d been teenagers. It was just bright enough to be sure that any kissing that went on was visible to everyone up and down the block.
And it was also bright enough to see that Jay wasn’t returning her sentiment anytime soon. His brows were pulled together and the corners of his lips were turned down. “Bella—”
She steeled herself and kept her smile in place through sheer willpower. “I don’t expect you to say ditto, Jay. I just wanted you to know.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and went up on her toes to kiss his lips. “Oscar and Aaron are waiting.”
Then she quickly slipped inside the door and closed it behind her.
Her heart thudded heavily in her chest and she leaned her head back against the door.
A moment later, she heard the soft rumble of his truck engine as he drove away.
She exhaled and opened her arms for Murphy to jump up into them. The dog slathered her face in kisses. And if he tasted a few salty tears along the way, she knew she could trust him to keep her secret.
Jay stared blearily at the cop sitting across the table from him. He’d left Arabella at her brother’s house eight hours earlier and he hadn’t slept a wink in the minutes since.
Instead, he’d called Detective Teas and arranged to meet him at the police station at seven that morning.
“You wanted my confession,” he told Detective Teas hours later when he’d finished his story. They were sitting in the same interrogation room that Teas had used with Jay weeks ago. “And now you have it.”
Jay was pretty sure the cop didn’t look stunned very often, but he looked stunned now.
He flopped his chair forward onto all four legs and reached one arm out to flip the lock on the door he’d already closed.
“You’re Jett Carr,” he repeated. “The one my daughter’s been going around wearing a shirt that says she’d give it all up for Jett Carr. That Jett Carr.”
Jay grimaced. “You don’t have to rub it in, Detective.”
The cop pushed his chair back again, balancing it once more. Only this time, he lifted his legs and crossed them at the ankle over the corner of the table. He propped his hands behind his neck and a broad grin crossed his face. “Why the hell didn’t you just say so? And why now?”
Jay scrubbed his hands down his face. “Because I want to sleep at night without you hanging over my head.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but he didn’t figure the officer needed to know it was the trust in Arabella’s eyes that was driving him more. He pushed out of his chair. “I never even wanted to be Jett Carr.” He paced from one corner to the next. “But everyone insisted I needed a name with more...salability than just Jay Cross.”
“It’s a name,” Teas said on a laugh. “Who cares?”
“Everyone in Los Angeles.” Jay rubbed the back of his neck and for some reason, found himself telling the detective all about the ways and means that had gone into turning him from a college student with a side hustle playing piano and writing songs into a full-time guitar-strumming singer. It was as if once he’d started confessing, he couldn’t make himself stop. “I grew my hair. Grew a beard.” He rubbed his jaw, feeling the prickles of day-old stubble. “Trademark shades. Cowboy hat. And one day I looked in the mirror and didn’t even recognize myself. I was involved with a woman my family detested. Had a manager who cared more about booking the next gig than he did about the fact that I was losing my mind. Two record deals that barely made the needle jump. And then—” he spread his fingers “—poof. The label cut me loose. Tina followed the day after. My manager about a week after that.”
“But that video of yours is all over creation!”
Jay laughed wearily and paced around the room in the other direction. “And it’s ironic
