by Sarah Peis
Surprisingly, my job allowed me to go away for a few days. Not that I had actual time off, but I could do my work from anywhere if I had a computer, so I’d still be working, just from Colorado.
Brielle crossed her arms. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Yes, of course I am.” I looked up after wiping the frown off my face. “And I’m not going on a vacation.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows twitched, and then she threw her hands up. “You can’t leave. I need you. What am I going to eat?”
“I’m not leaving the country. You can still call me. Or text. And I believe your fingers are still working. You can order takeout.”
“So I’m just expected to stay here by myself? You know bad things happen when I’m left on my own.”
I suppressed the sigh that desperately wanted to escape. She was five years younger, and after Maimeó died, we were the only family we had left. Things hadn’t always been difficult between us. We’d been best friends, done everything together. But our relationship changed when I turned into her guardian last year.
All she did was complain and party. And it was getting to me. I wanted my sweet baby sister back who thought braiding each other’s hair and watching Grease passed for a great night.
“You’ll be fine. Just don’t throw a party,” I said. As if she wouldn’t. There was nothing I could do to stop her, so I didn’t bother going there. It wasn’t worth the argument.
“You’d just leave me on my own? I guess now that I’m eighteen, you don’t want to take care of me anymore.”
She knew how to get to me. I always felt like I never took enough care of her. Even when I went to college while she was still in high school, I tried to juggle working, studying, and helping Maimeó. But no matter how hard I worked, I always seemed to fail somewhere.
“That’s not how it is, and you know it. I love you and only want the best for you.”
I zipped up my suitcase and pulled it onto the floor, where it landed with a loud thump. It was heavier than it looked, but since I wasn’t capable of packing light, I wasn’t surprised. I’d stuffed enough clothes inside to last me at least a month. Not that I was planning on staying away for more than a night or two, but still, you never knew what might come up.
I leaned in and kissed her cheek, ignoring her crossed arms and raised brows. “I’m sorry I upset you. But I need to go or I’ll miss my flight.”
She followed me out of the room, stomping as loud as her socked feet would allow. “Why are you going to Colorado?”
“There’s something I need to take care of.”
My phone vibrated in my purse, but I ignored it. I knew it was work. And if I didn’t hurry, I really would miss my flight.
“This isn’t over,” Brielle threatened.
I forced a smile on my face, thanking all the years of faking emotions that had made me a superb actress. “Let’s talk about it when I get back.”
Brielle turned on her heels and stalked away without a word. Not good. But I didn’t have time to smooth things over.
I dragged the suitcase to the front door and into the elevator.
Henry’s driver was waiting for me outside. He hurried over as soon as he saw me dragging the suitcase out the door.
“Ms. Fitzgerald, please, let me get it,” he said, looking horrified at the prospect of me carrying my suitcase. “It’s no problem at all.”
I smothered the eye roll that wanted to escape and put another fake smile on my face as I let him take my suitcase.
Henry insisted on me having a driver. Appearance was everything to Henry, so he shut me down whenever I questioned the need for someone to drive me around.
I walked forward, and he made quick work of depositing the large brick into the trunk. By the time I’d made it to the car, he was standing by the back door, holding it open for me. Damn, he was good.
I inclined my head and ducked down and into the car. “I told you to call me Kinsley.”
“Of course, Ms. Fitzgerald.”
The ride to the airport was as slow as expected, and I made it just in time.
The flight from LA to Denver took a little over two hours. I worked on my laptop the entire time. It felt like we had just taken off when we approached Denver.
As soon as I stepped out of the airport, a wall of cold air hit me. I nearly turned back around. Colorado was cold. Not that the locals seemed to notice, walking around in shorts and T-shirts, but then it was almost summer. Only I was used to a different kind of summer than this. I had lived in California my entire life and never got used to colder climates.
Clutching the keys to my rental car, I made my way to the parking lot. It was easy to find the marked bays. It took me a while to find the car though, since I didn’t know what a Ford Escape looked like. I just went up to every white car and pushed the Unlock button.
I wrestled my suitcase into the trunk, cursing myself for packing so much. Sliding into the freezing car, I wondered if I should put an extra jacket on. I was already wrapped in a puffer jacket, a scarf, and gloves. I couldn’t find my hat or I would have put it on as well.
After circling the parking lot a few times, I found the exit and handed the rental papers to the attendant at the gate before finally making my way out of the airport. I didn’t know where Landon lived, but I had the address of where he worked, so that was where I planned to go.
He was a mechanic at a popular garage. Last year there was a big feature about them in Car and Driver. They mentioned Landon a few times in the article, and it was easy to track him down from there.
I forgot all about how cold I was or the long drive ahead of me when I saw the view that greeted me. Shortgrass prairie surrounded the airport, and snow-capped mountains stood proud in the distance. It was breathtaking. The airport itself was impressive, the unique tent-like design making it an interesting landmark.
My euphoria was fast replaced with nerves. I would see Landon again. Even though I had no recollection of the wedding, I had a lot of snippets of the time we spent together. I also remembered every moment of when we first met. The attraction had burned through me like wildfire as soon as I laid eyes on him.
I drove ten miles under the speed limit, both hands gripping the steering wheel, leaning forward, my body a tense mess. I wasn’t used to driving on wide-open roads. There also weren’t many cars around, and it made me nervous. I was more of a bumper-to-bumper ten-miles-an-hour driver.
A car passed me and honked, making me cringe. I just couldn’t get myself to go any faster. Not for all the honking and raised middle fingers in the world.
Humptulips, the town I was going to, was a two-hour drive from Denver. It also looked to be in the middle of nowhere. With the amount of publicity the garage Landon worked at received, I would have thought it’d be closer to a big city. I wondered how they became so popular.
After crawling along the highway for twenty minutes, I stopped at a gas station and stocked up on nuts and coffee. I eased back onto the road, checking all my mirrors three times before merging. After an hour, I felt more confident and almost drove the speed limit. If only the lack of sleep plus a day of travel weren’t catching up with me. My eyes felt heavy, and I couldn’t stop yawning. Spotting the sign for Humptulips was a relief.
The town was small, with only one main street and not much else. I stopped in front of a café, deciding to have another coffee first and then make my way to the garage.
The bell above the door tinkled when I walked inside, and almost every head in the packed space turned my way. I smiled and walked to the counter, ignoring the looks being thrown at me. I was still wearing my Balmain minidress, the baby blue sequined tweed standing out among the jeans and checkered shirts dominating the room.
When I made it to the counter, a gorgeous woman with bits of flour on her cheek and in her hair greeted me. She had the most amazing hazel eyes, framed by long lashes that also had bits of flour stuck to them.
“Welcome to Sweet Dreams. What can I g
et you?”
“One coffee, black, and a chicken salad please, without dressing or cheese. Both takeout.”
“Do you want to add a brownie? Or a cupcake? They’re fresh out of the oven.”
My mouth salivated at the thought, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to put on weight before the wedding. And I only had to look at a cupcake to gain five pounds. The wedding dress was tight enough already; I would suffocate next time I wore it if I put on even an ounce.
“No thank you, but they look delicious. Maybe next time.”
She nodded, and bits of flour fell from her hair. “You staying or just passing through?”
“I’m staying for a night or two.”
She smiled and rang me up. “You’ll love it here. It’s a great little town.”
I smiled, hiding the grimace that brewed just under the surface. I had no doubt it was a lovely place, but my reasons for being here weren’t conducive to relaxing and enjoying the town.
“$8.90, please.” She handed me my coffee. “If you wait over there, I’ll call you when your salad is ready. Enjoy your stay.”
I gratefully accepted the cup and touched my credit card to the machine.
Standing off to the side, I sipped the coffee. It was almost too hot to drink, but I was desperate. What I really wanted was a mocha with whipped cream, but that was an indulgence I only allowed once a week.
My salad was ready within a few minutes, and then I was back in my car. I would stop at the garage first and hopefully see Landon. My stomach was in knots at the thought of seeing him again. I hoped he wouldn’t affect me the way he did in Vegas. Surely that was just a fluke. A onetime deal.
He was gorgeous, or at least he had been a year ago. When I first saw him, he’d stolen my breath away. He was tall with messy blond hair, jade eyes, and an irresistibly devastating grin. His powerful body moved with grace, screaming confidence. Even in a crowd, his presence was compelling. He was a born entertainer.
I really hoped the intense desire I felt when I last saw him would be a distant memory. The man was pure sex and drew me in like a magnet.
A giant sign that read “Drake’s Garage” pulled me out of my thoughts. I’d made it. This was it. I would get my divorce and be able to marry Henry.
So why does it feel like I’m making a mistake?
Parking in one of the customer parking spots, I gave myself a quick pep talk. I could do this. I just needed to go up, give him the papers, and leave. Then tomorrow he could drop the signed documents at reception. If he needed more time to look them over or speak to a lawyer, I could stay an extra night.
After stalling for another minute, I finally turned off the ignition and got out of the car. Papers clenched to my chest, I walked toward the open bays. A few people stood around a red muscle car, talking.
“Hey, asshat, what do you think? Should we get a new exhaust or try to work with the old one?” someone called out.
“Replace it,” someone else answered from the bay closest to the entrance. I jolted when I heard the familiar baritone.
“You heard the man. Boone, it’s all yours,” a tall, muscle-packed man said and turned away from the car. He changed direction when he saw me and came over. “Can I help you?”
I eased the death grip I had on the papers and forced a smile on my face. “I hope so. I’m looking for Landon West.”
The guy nodded toward the first bay where I’d heard Landon’s voice. “He’s over there. I’ll take you.” He turned back around, and I followed. “Landon, you got a visitor,” he called out when we were a few steps away.
Landon looked up, and when our eyes met, everything else seemed to stop existing. I never believed in bullshit like love at first sight. But when I looked at Landon, I almost changed my mind.
I froze, staring at him. He still looked exactly like I remembered. Damn him. Where is his beer gut?
“Kinsley.”
Just one word, but spoken in his gravelly voice, sent shivers up and down my spine.
I took the last few steps that brought me closer, coming to stand on the other side of the car he was working on.
He looked at me over the hood, his gaze never leaving mine.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. “Landon.”
I cringed when his name came out breathy. Get a hold of yourself, woman. He’s only a man. One with a butt you could bounce quarters off.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, but he didn’t sound put out. More like… excited? Hopeful?
I held out the wrinkled papers in my hand. “I need your signature.”
He was still standing on the other side of the car, a pipe wrench clasped in his hand, making no move to take the papers from me. “What for?”
Is he really going to play stupid? Fine. I’ll roll with it if it gets me his signature. “We’re still married.”
He bent back down to the car and started working on it again. “I know.”
Hell no, he did not just dismiss me like that. “Care to tell me why we’re still married?”
It was getting harder to keep control over my emotions. His dismissal didn’t help matters, and I abused the poor papers some more. They would be scrunched in a tight ball if he didn’t take them soon.
“Because we signed a marriage certificate about a year ago? Or did you forget?”
Deep breath in. That’s it. And out. Don’t yell. Keep your cool. Remember all you’ve worked for. This is just a bump in the road. No problem. You can do this.
“I didn’t forget. But you said you’d take care of it.”
Excellent. Calm and steady voice.
“I did say that.”
“So? How are we still married?”
He wasn’t even looking at me, just continued using tools I couldn’t name or begin to know how to use.
Deep breaths. Good job. Don’t make this the moment you’ll lose your shit. You’re known as the ice queen for a reason.
“Ignoring me isn’t going to make me go away.” My voice was coming out high-pitched and loud, and I took a deep breath.
“I can see that,” he mumbled.
And. Did. Not. Look. Up.
And that was when the Fitzgerald ice queen lost her cool. Something I wasn’t proud of, but in my defense, I was tired. And my emotions were on a roller coaster that wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.
“You bastard! You said you took care of it,” I yelled.
He finally looked up. “Must have forgotten.”
“You forgot? Are you kidding me?”
“It happens,” Landon said, shrugging his stupid broad shoulders.
“Well, now that I’m here to remind you, you need to sign these,” I said and held the papers out to him.
“I’m not signing them,” the bastard stated calmly.
“You won’t sign them? Why?” I yelled, my voice climbing higher on each word.
“I don’t believe in divorce.”
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, hoping I didn’t hear that right.
Nope. No. I’m pretty sure he did just say that.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe in divorce. I’m getting married in less than three months. I need you to sign the divorce papers.”
“Nope,” Landon had the audacity to say, his focus still on the car in front of him.
I couldn’t deal with life any longer. Letting out a loud screech, I threw the papers at the hardheaded idiot.
“I’m staying at the Greensborough Bed and Breakfast. Once you decide to be an adult about this, come and see me.”
I stalked off, ignoring the audience that had gathered during our argument.
Guess I’m staying in Humptulips for longer than one night.
Get Some Call It Devotion HERE
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Website www.sarahpeis.com
Some Call It Love (#1)
Some Call It Temptation (#2)
Some Call It Fate (#3)
Some Call It Devotion (#4)
Worship (A Sweet Dreams novella)
Kismet (A Sweet Dreams novella, exclusive to newsletter subscribers)
Standalones
Happily Never Forever
Thank you for taking a chance on this book and making it all the way to this part. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it. ← still true ← every book just keeps getting better.
These are just a few of the people who have helped me along the way and I’m forever grateful for everything they’ve done (don’t hate me if I forgot anyone, kids have turned my brain into a lost & found box where nothing ever gets found).
Natasha: you rock my socks off. Thank you for believing in me and my books. They wouldn’t be the same without you. ←yes, times a thousand. ← You’re all that and a bag of chips. ← you rock my socks off.
Ginna: writing buddy and sounding board. ← love reading your books and seeing you succeed in this business. You are an inspiration!
Robyn: #LYLT ← always.
Ben: your designs are one-of-a-kind and I’m in awe of your mad skills. You’re also a pretty great human, so there’s that.
Stacey: formatting and design genius. You rock. ← don’t ever decide you want to go into racecar driving instead. I need you. ← every time I think I can’t love your designs more you work on my next book and boom, I have my next favourite.
Kristin: sorry for all the comma splices. I’d like to say it will never happen again buuuuuut….. (seriously, thanks for all your work polishing my manuscript). ← and guess what, there were just as many comma splices in this manuscript than in the last. This time it was the repetition…I’ve moved on to screwing up the simplest of words. Like The End.
