by Jacie Lennon
Love Ignited
Jacie Lennon
Copyright 2019 by Jacie Lennon
All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.
Love Ignited
Editor: Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Cover Designer: Alora Kate at Cover Kraze
Contents
1. Jules
2. Jules
3. Mason
4. Jules
5. Mason
6. Jules
7. Mason
8. Jules
9. Mason
10. Jules
11. Mason
12. Jules
13. Mason
14. Jules
15. Jules
16. Mason
17. Jules
18. Mason
19. Jules
20. Mason
21. Jules
22. Jules
23. Mason
24. Jules
25. Jules
26. Mason
27. Jules
28. Mason
29. Jules
30. Jules
31. Mason
32. Jules
33. Mason
34. Jules
35. Mason
36. Mason
Epilogue
How to Find Me
Other Books by Jacie Lennon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This book is dedicated to my children. I love you E and L. May you always follow your dreams and know that you can reach the stars if you try.
1
Jules
“Damn it to hell,” I mutter. My eyes fill with tears, and I blink rapidly, trying to clear them so I can see the road in front of me.
It’s been a bitch of a week, and I’m still reeling from it. Whoever said time heals all wounds was a liar. Or maybe they meant longer than a week. Either way, the heartbreak is still very much real, and I think it will be a long time before I can trust someone again.
Exactly one week ago, I got the text from my fiancé: Whore. He didn’t even bother to say it to my face.
My mouth hanging open, I sat there, staring at the highly offensive word for five minutes straight, feeling myself get even angrier with each passing moment.
I picked up the phone and immediately called him.
“Do we need to talk about something?” I asked as I listened to his heavy breathing on the other end.
My mind was turning in circles. This wasn’t like the Kyle I knew. The Kyle I knew brought me flowers and watched romcoms on TV with me. He didn’t call me names, unprompted.
“You know what you did,” he said, practically a growl.
“I can assure you, I do not know what I did,” I said back as calmly as I could muster.
“Does fucking Rob ring a bell?” he sneered. I could hear his hand slap something in the background.
“Rob? Delivery guy Rob?”
“Found his name on your phone last night,” he said.
My eyes widened. That’s what this is about?
Rob, our delivery guy for the coffee shop, texted me that he was going to be late on the delivery again.
“Are you screwing him, Jules?”
“What? No! I promise I’m not,” I said.
Looking back, I’m not sure why I even bothered to defend myself. He had drawn his conclusions. It didn’t matter though.
“I fucked Cora,” he said calmly, almost like he was telling me the weather.
“What?” My voice was barely a whisper.
My whole world was crumbling around me. This was out of left field.
Sure, Kyle always wanted to know where I was or who I was with and what I was doing. But isn’t that what a good fiancé wants to know? He would call multiple times while I was out with friends, to the point where I would come home early, but he just wanted to be with me, right?
Wrong. He was a completely manipulative, controlling jerk, and my dad was right. He’d warned me before we got engaged that he didn’t like the guy.
Why didn’t I listen?
I roughly wipe under each of my eyes, the area stinging where my nails accidentally scratched the delicate skin. I had been battling a sinus infection, and reading that text and then realizing that I was engaged to an emotionally abusive cheater while lying around, feeling like death, added insult to injury.
Asshole.
Kyle screwed one of the baristas at our coffee shop. The coffee shop we’d created together.
“Joke’s on you, fuckface. I own The Funky Brewster now, and your little college-aged girlfriend is out of a job.” I give a small laugh.
I know I look a little crazy, muttering to an empty car, but it’s good to get the emotions out. Cussing helps. I’ve become quite the connoisseur of creative names for Kyle the fuckface, asshole, douche-bag ex-fiancé of mine.
I bought out his half of the coffee shop with my savings. My parents, extremely pissed off at Kyle for what he had done to me, threw in a little extra and volunteered to help out at the shop. I then fired the barista and talked to my parents about covering the shop for me, so I could get the hell out of Dodge for a few days. They were more than happy, being retired and bored at home, and now, I’m on a road trip to see my best friend, Hanna. Six hours in with two to go, and I will arrive in Nashville, Tennessee.
I flip on the radio, skimming stations until I find a slow, sad song. Singing along, the tears continuing to fall, I reach over into the glove compartment to grab a travel package of tissues. My fingertips graze the cellophane package and I lean further to hook my thumb around the back of it. I pull the wheel with me, causing my car to drift. Grabbing the package, I jolt up to a honk from the car next to me, and I jerk my hand to the left, quickly pulling my car back into my lane, my heart thumping fast in my chest.
I glance over to the car I almost hit, mouthing, Sorry, as the driver shoots me the bird.
Looks about right, I think. A big, old, Fuck you, Jules.
I throw up a middle finger to myself. Sighing, I run the tissue under my eyes and change the station to a happier song.
Kyle and I were only together for a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but he had me convinced that he was who I wanted to spend my life with. I should have seen this coming when he refused to sit down and plan a future with me beyond what we were doing in the next couple of days. I know one thing for sure; the last year has been a waste in the love department. Hell, my entire dating career has been a waste in the love department. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the girl a guy wants to marry. It seems that all my past boyfriends in high school and college viewed me as the love-her-and-leave-her type. Maybe I will be that fun aunt to all my friends’ kids. The one who never marries and all the kids ask questions about while the parents shush them.
Could everyone see what was going on but me?
Hanna swears up and down that she didn’t know, but she was hardly ever with us. She was traveling the country as a nurse before she met her husband, Ezra, and settled in Nashville. Now, she has a daughter, Olivia, and a new baby boy, Luk
e, and she seems happy.
I can’t wait to squish Luke’s chubby little legs. The thought puts a smile on my face.
I’m happy for her, and I’m happy she asked me to visit and get my mind off of things.
But will it be like a knife to my already-shattered heart to be around my friend who is desperately in love with her husband?
My phone rings in the seat next to me, my mom’s name flashing across the screen. Keeping my eyes firmly on the road, I reach over and connect the Bluetooth, waiting until my mom’s voice fills the speakers in my car.
“Jules, honey, you haven’t checked in with us in a few hours. Your father was starting to worry.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m about two hours away from Nashville. How is the shop doing?”
“Just fine. Sales have been steady, and we are interviewing to fill the barista spot today!” she says with an enthusiastic tone.
I’m glad I’m not there, I think, grinding my teeth together. My jaw starts to hurt with the force, and I let up, an instant wave of relief crashing through my muscles. I didn’t realize how tense I was.
“I don’t want to talk about filling that spot, Mom. You and Dad take care of it. Just make sure they have some good experience. Not like She Who Can’t Be Named,” I growl the last part.
“Of course. Your father has already made a list of questions to ask. He’s going to be pretty hard on them. He’s fuming about what that jerk did to you. He stomps around the house and slams things down, muttering under his breath a lot.”
“Maybe you should sit in on the interview. Don’t let the power go to Dad’s head.” I laugh a little when I envision Dad sitting at a table, a single lightbulb on overhead and his fingers steepled, as he stares at the poor sap who is just applying for an after-school job. The laughter helps to ease the anger starting to bubble back up inside me.
“I’m only joking when I say he’s going to be hard—kind of. Kyle had better not show his face for a good long while—maybe never. I can’t promise that your father won’t harm him,” Mom says. “Are you any feeling better?”
“Yeah, I think the sinus infection is pretty much gone, just getting over the symptoms.”
Things were pretty sad and mopey this week. I’m so happy my parents have my back. They have been so supportive through this crushing time in my life.
“Hey, Mom. Hanna is beeping in. I need to get this,” I say quickly.
We hurry to say good-bye. I disconnect the call and connect Hanna’s.
“Han-Han!” I scream. She hates it when I answer her calls like this, so of course, I do it every time. What are best friends for?
“Jules, ouch. Thanks for that,” she moans.
“You’re welcome. What’s up?” I try to sound upbeat. No one likes a Mopey Milly.
“So, I expect you are about a couple hours away, correct?” she asks. “Also, why do you sound like that?”
“Correct,” I confirm. I flex my fingers in and out a few times, loosening my grip on the wheel a bit. “Coming down from a sinus infection. I just finished my antibiotics today, and I hope they take care of it. I’m dying a slow death, not being able to breathe.”
“Aw, boo! I’m sorry. But shouldn’t you feel better if you finished your antibiotics?”
“Well, yes,” I admit. I was just being whiny now since I was over the worst of it.
“Great. I’ve got Nora—you remember Craig’s wife, right?—coming to watch the kids tonight, and you and I are going out!”
“Oh, um … I don’t know if that’s such a great idea,” I say.
“What are you talking about? It’s a great idea! Plus, isn’t alcohol the best medicine?” she says.
I can hear little Luke chortling in the background, and I smile to myself. I haven’t seen him since he was born, and now, he’s five months old.
“I was just hoping for a relaxing night in,” I say, rolling my eyes when I realize she’s not going to let this go.
“Nope, we aren’t sitting at home and letting you relive this past week all night. We are going out and getting your mind off of it! You will feel much better once you are in a sexy outfit. I might have asked Brent to come as well,” she says.
I instantly perk up at the thought of Brent coming. He’s a nurse at the same hospital Hanna works at. He is dramatic and fun and exactly what I need right now to lift my spirits.
“Okay, okay. You sold me on the idea, you little minx,” I say, laughing when I imagine Brent saying it.
She knows how to manipulate me. I love Brent.
Hanna bursts out laughing, and it feels good. It feels normal to be seeing my best friend again after four months. Especially after this shitty week. I lift my shoulder a few times and tilt my head to each side, trying to relax.
“I’ve got a plan for you, little Jules, a wonderful plan, and this is just phase one,” Hanna says in a creepy voice.
“Oh no,” I say, my heart speeding up when I imagine all of the things Hanna has come up with to torture me. My shoulders begin to tense up again. “I’m turning around.”
“Don’t you dare,” she yells into the phone, causing me to turn the speakers down.
“Jeez, I see why you hate it so much when I yell into the phone,” I tell her.
“Mmhmm. Oh, damn—darn. All right, come on, Luke. He just spit up everywhere. Say bye-bye to your aunt Jules,” she says in a baby voice before the line goes dead.
“Bye,” I mutter to the empty car.
This will be an interesting week, to say the least. Hanna’s mind is a wild place, and whatever she has dreamed up will keep me busy. I won’t have any time to sit around and lament the turn my life has taken.
“Onward and upward,” is what my dad always says, and I’m starting to think that’s a wonderful motto.
2
Jules
Once I arrive, Hanna comes barreling out of the house, blonde hair flying, with six-year-old Livie right behind her. Happy shouts fill the air as we hug, and a genuine smile threatens to split my face in two.
“I have missed you so much, you sweet girl,” I say, bending down to wrap my arms around Livie.
Her small frame has grown taller since the last time I saw her, and she has her brown hair pulled into two braids, giving her a sweet, girlish look. I can’t believe how quickly she is growing, and it sends a small jolt of sadness through me because I’m missing it.
“Aunt Jules, Mom and me painted my room—”
“Mom and I,” Hanna corrects, causing me to giggle at her stern voice. She has fallen right into her role as a mother for Livie and Luke after not having the greatest role model in that department.
I give Livie a wink, and she giggles too.
“Mom and I painted my room. You have to come and see.” She grabs my hand and pulls.
I trot along behind her while Hanna yells at us from my trunk. I glance back to see her wrestling my large suitcase out, and it falls to the ground with a thud. I shoot her a thumbs-up, and she glares at me as Livie and I disappear inside. Ezra is seated on the couch with baby Luke, and I give him a little wave as we quickly pass by them. Down the hallway, Livie stops at her door before turning to me with a serious face.
“Close your eyes, Aunt Jules,” she demands, watching me until I do. “No peeking.”
I feel her little hands twirl around in the air, trying to reach in front of my eyes to make sure I’m not looking.
“My eyes are closed, Liv.” I laugh.
“Okay, one, two, three … look!” She throws her door open and sweeps her arms out like she’s the ringmaster at the circus.
I glance around her bedroom. The walls have been painted a myriad of blues, greens, and yellows, giving an underwater vibe to the room. On one wall, there’re a couple of sea turtles, and the connecting wall has a few clown fish on it. Once I step inside, directly behind me is a blue fish, and there are seaweed depictions and all manner of sea life painted along the bottom.
“It’s Finding Nemo,” she says proudly.
She beams. “Look over here. It’s the little box you got me.” She points to the jewelry box I sent her for her sixth birthday.
It’s one of those jewelry boxes that has music and a spinning ballerina when you open the top of it. When I was little, my parents gave me one, and it’s something I’ve always cherished. I still have it in my room at my parents’ house. I open her jewelry box, watching the little doll spin in a circle, her arms raised high above her head.
“This is the perfect place for it.” I smile at Livie.
“Dad says I can get my ears pierced soon, and then I will have some earrings to put in it,” she tells me while pulling out a small bracelet. “I only have this right now.”
A muffled curse and a thump comes from the hallway, and we turn to see Hanna dragging my suitcase down the hall and dropping it right outside of Livie’s doorway.
“What did you pack in here?” she grunts, scowling at me.
“Just the necessities,” I tell her while leaving Liv’s room to pick up the suitcase. “I’ll just stick this in my room.” I begin walking toward the room I stayed in the last time I was here.
Hanna clears her throat, stopping me.
“That’s the nursery now.” She gives me an apologetic look.
“Of course, duh.” I laugh while mentally counting the rooms they have. “So, where am I staying?”
“We set up the pullout couch in the office for you.” Hanna points toward the room across the hall from the nursery.
