front of her shirt and tossed her hair back. “Oops. That was an accident.”
“Clearly.”
This was dangerous territory when you wanted a second chance at a romance. How deep did you dig? How much did you pick? It scared her. She wanted to be with Chance and it didn’t make sense to her to trod over ground they had already covered. She wanted a reunion album, not a breakup one.
Any sane woman would go home. Not Tennyson. She actually pulled up a chair and dropped her infernal notepad down on the table and started writing away, humming to herself.
Chance came into the kitchen. He walked tentatively. “Is everything in here okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jolene told him, even though she wasn’t. She was scared and she really didn’t feel like talking to him.
“Actually, yes, give us a minute,” Tennyson said. “Jolene and I are working on something.”
Working on a headache.
Chance hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go walk the dog.” She just needed a minute. Or seventy-two. There wasn’t anything to be mad about, given that he was well within his rights to sleep around when they were broken up. There hadn’t even been any hint that they would reconcile at the time, so there was no violation or misunderstanding there. But when she told him to zip it, that she did not want to hear about it, he should have had the sense to actually follow her wishes.
There was a code, damn it. Leave well enough alone.
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he just pursed his lips, nodded, and backed up out of the room. Literally backed up. Like he was afraid what would happen to him if he didn’t keep his gaze on her. The whole thing was so ridiculous that the minute the door closed behind him, she gave a laugh of disbelief.
“If I find this on the Internet, I will hunt you down and cancel your birth certificate,” she told Tennyson, only half-kidding.
“What am I, stupid?” Tennyson scoffed. “I have the opportunity of a lifetime here. I’m not going to jack it up.”
Maybe those were words to live by. Wasn’t what she had with Chance--the opportunity of a lifetime?
She took another massive bite of his old bagel and grabbed the notepad to read what Tennyson had been writing.
It was an opportunity not everyone was afforded, both personally and professionally. She needed to remember that.
Time to bleed on the page.
Fifteen
By eleven that night, Chance felt he’d gone a round with a bear. And lost, of course. He was exhausted. His neck, his back, arms, were all sore. A headache that was dancing behind his eyes.
When he closed his front door behind Tennyson, who had left for the night, he found himself alone with Jolene, uncertain what to do or say. So he decided to be honest. “That was brutal.”
She nodded. “It was hell. But we have three really amazing songs. I’m just not sure I can record them without wanting to punch you.”
Chance rubbed his jaw, sighing. “Punch me if you need to, JoJo. Let’s work out whatever we have to work out. I want to move on.”
“We opened a lot of old wounds today. I feel like we owe Tennyson money for therapy.”
“Tennyson is going to do just fine financially from this. I’m kind of terrified of her. That is a woman who isn’t afraid to slice and dice.” He shook his head. “Just when you think you have a minute to regroup she comes in with a lyric that is so true and awful you just want to punch a wall.”
“Or throw a plate?” Jolene smiled at him and dropped down onto his couch, drawing her legs up. “I may or may not have done that today, after all.”
“Can I sit by you?” His voice was tentative.
“Yes. I don’t want to fight, you know. I actually want you to come over here and hug me.”
The relief he felt was huge. “Really? I can do that. I will hug the stuffing out of you.” He sat next to her and pulled her into his arms, grateful he was being given the opportunity to touch her, give her comfort. Hell, comfort himself. “It was easier to write an album of love songs, I gotta admit.”
She nestled up against his chest. “You were the one with the brilliant idea to write a breakup album.”
“I was stupid. Though I have to say, this is good stuff, JoJo. Really good.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t throw Tennyson out.”
“And here you said you