Joanne was impressed with JD’s interest. After the stressful past few days, she needed a win—however small. But if yer Steels beca her client, that wouldn’t just be a small win. It would be the biggest victory of the year for her company.
She wanted to share this mont with soone. It was a simple, human instinct—to connect. JD was just a paying guest, a temporary presence in her life. She knew that. And yet, it didn’t seem to matter.
Already, she found herself placing him in a space that wasn’t ant for just a passing acquaintance.
Maybe it was just because they shared als, lived under the sa roof. But she found herself wanting to talk to him about her struggles, her hopes, her victories.
A companion to push away the loneliness. A friend.
JD listened as she recounted her morning interaction with Jonathan. A simple conversation about business, smooth and easy. And then—before leaving—Jonathan had asked her to dinner.
A date.
JD exhaled through his nose. Awkward on Jonathan’s part, sure. Understandable, given how long the man had probably been out of the dating scene. But what JD couldn’t wrap his head around was why Joanne had dismissed it as nothing but business.
"How long has it been since you last dated?" JD asked.
"Why?" Joanne asked. She didn’t want to answer him. It had truly been a long ti. Five years was a very long ti.
"Did it occur to you that he might have been asking you on a date?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and he regretted them imdiately. Why had he said that? He should have let her continue believing it was just business. He should’ve taken that thought to the grave.
"Date?" Joanne’s eyes widened. JD didn’t miss the way color rushed to her cheeks. "No way." She scoffed, waving her hand in dismissal before turning toward the kitchen—so quickly that she nearly ran into the doorway.
JD watched as she grabbed a jug of chilled water and took a deep gulp. "Seriously," she continued, shaking her head, "how would he ever let anywhere near his daughter?"
JD’s jaw tightened. "Why not?"
She looked at him then, brows knitting as if she was about to say sothing, but before she could, a loud barking erupted from the front porch.
Fluffy.
Joanne’s expression shifted, her focus imdiately diverted. She strode to the door, JD following instinctively. The mont she pulled it open, Fluffy rushed inside, whining and circling her legs. Joanne let out a slow breath, recognition settling over her face.
Sam Smith.
Her cousin.
She stepped outside, reaching back to shut the door behind her, but JD caught it before it could close.
"Stay inside," she murmured, a quiet plea. But JD held firm, his presence unwavering.
She let out a sigh, relenting.
JD stepped onto the porch beside her.
Sam barely spared him a glance before stepping forward. Joanne placed a firm hand against his chest. "You should stop now," she said.
"Or what?" Sam sneered, puffing up his chest as he took a step closer, shoving her back a fraction. "What are you going to do?"
Joanne didn’t flinch. "I just gave you money. Did you run out already?"
JD frowned at her tone. She spoke as if she were dealing with a spoiled child. Patient. asured.
Sam scoffed. "Should I report my expenses to you now?" His words were laced with mockery, but there was an underlying hostility to them.
"No." Joanne pulled out her phone, tapping the screen a few tis before holding it up for him to see. "Here."
JD glimpsed the number flash across the screen. Two thousand dollars.
Sam checked his phone, smirked. "Good girl. I’ll visit often."
JD’s stomach turned as Sam reached out, fingers aid for Joanne’s head—like she was so pet to be rewarded.
Joanne flinched.
JD stepped forward, his body moving before his mind could process the action. "Hey."
Sam’s eyes snapped to him, expression shifting. There was no amusent now. Only irritation.
He stepped toward JD, puffing up like a man trying to establish dominance. JD didn’t move.
Sam took another step.
JD’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He wasn’t even sure why the anger ca so quickly, so instinctively. He wasn’t one to raise his fists. He loved his face too much to participate in a brawl.
But the way Joanne had shrunk back, the way she had simply accepted it—he didn’t like it.
The tension thickened between them, humming like a live wire.
Sam smirked. JD saw the flicker of hesitation behind it. The montary crack in his bravado. He had almost lost his balance earlier, and JD knew he had felt the embarrassnt of it.
Sam rolled his shoulders back, making a show of folding up his sleeves, preparing for a fight.
JD took a step forward, his stance shifting slightly—not an outright challenge, but close enough. He had no intention of throwing the first punch, but if Sam so much as lifted a hand toward Joanne again, there would be no hesitation.
Before the space between them could shrink further, Joanne stepped in, breaking the current of tension like a blade through water.
Sam’s amusent returned as he looked down at her. Then, shifting his focus back to JD, his smirk widened. "Are you her pet dog now?" he sneered.
He turned to Joanne, wagging a finger in her direction. "You know what happens to your pet dogs, don’t you?"
JD felt his stomach churn at the implication.
Sam didn’t linger after that. He staggered down the porch steps, his gaze shifting to the farmhands who had gathered nearby, watching. A few cursed at him, laughing under their breath.
Sam scowled. "I’ll own you all one day," he muttered, pointing a finger at them.
"Have a try, little c*nt!" Patrick shouted back.
Sam took an aggressive step toward them, but when he saw them shift—closing in—he changed course, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the night.
Joanne turned to Patrick, offering a small nod of thanks before heading inside. JD followed, the air between them charged with sothing unspoken.
She didn’t co down for dinner that night.
And the next morning, JD was t with an empty kitchen. No breakfast.
No Joanne.
Where was she?
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