Chapter 39: HardballWhen Jackson Ledbetter got home at just past midnight, he found a bunch of packed boxes in the living room, ready to be shipped.
He came through the door, removed his winter coat, draped it across a chair, and looked at me. The frown on his face was so deep you could bale your hay in it.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He did not reply.
I felt like a complete fool.
“You’re going to play hardball, huh?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
He stared at me with expressionless eyes.
“Please forgive me,” I said, getting down on my knees and folding my hands together. “I’m an ass. A complete, total ass. I f****d up. I’m sorry. Is that good enough?”
A faint hint of a smile crept to his lips.
“Do you want me to grovel?” I asked. “Because I will. I’ll grovel for you, Jackson Ledbe
