by Ashley Munoz
Like was too casual of a term. Obsessed might have been more accurate. She had these dark blue eyes set against her blonde hair and creamy skin. As a middle school boy, she was what I always imagined when I thought of growing up and getting married.
But she didn’t respond to my jokes, turned her nose up when I thought I was being funny and other girls would laugh. She never looked at me in the halls. She was always in her own world. I figured the only way to get her to notice me was to break into hers.
Unfortunately, that was with cruel methods that often made her fuming mad. But that red coloring her face when I’d bump into her in the halls or steal her backpack—it became addictive. Then once eighth grade rolled around, other boys started talking about her.
They liked her long hair, her pretty bow-like lips. They liked her hips and her chest, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I made my move and hoped like hell she didn’t turn me down.
The song switching to some rendition of “Old Town Road” had the entire bar going crazy, as if we were still in sixth grade and not our mid-twenties. Couples paired up to line dance and started moving around the floor. I clenched my jaw as Seth grabbed Gemma by the hips, leaving Faith open for some idiot to use as a partner. Sure enough, a broad-shouldered jock with a Cumberland University shirt grabbed Faith and spun her around, smiling and holding her close.
Her blonde hair lifted off her shoulders and her legs moved like she’d been line dancing her entire life, though I knew she had to be out of practice from being on the arm of that billionaire. I endured the stupid song, and when it switched to something slower, I tried to draw in relief through my pathetic lungs, but when the jock caged Faith in his arms and they started slow dancing, I started coughing instead.
Seth and Gemma walked back toward me, reminiscing about high school and the past, all smiles and laughter. My gaze reluctantly stayed glued to the jock’s hands and how low they kept creeping down Faith’s backside. I couldn’t see her face, so I had no idea if she was uncomfortable, and fuck, I shouldn’t have even cared.
Even still, the tightness in my chest amplified like it had throughout the past week, growing and splintering. It took me back to losing her, my mom, and everything else I had going for me all at once. It was too much, too tight, too everything. I couldn’t see her here, not while I was alone and especially not with her in the arms of another man. Instead of being a mature adult and leaving, I decided to make her do it.
I grabbed my phone as my eyes searched the floor, and I found Faith staring at me like she dared me to press the numbers into my cell, like she already knew.
I gave her a glare that said, You should know better, sweetheart. I dialed and relished the adrenaline that coursed through me. She was going to hate me, but it didn’t matter. She was lost to me, and I needed a reminder that some things couldn’t be redeemed.
Faith
Marrying Bryan had forced my demure and shy nature to transform into something more akin to survival. Smile big, nod your head, look your best—that way when the press came, they wouldn’t be able to see through your armor.
I was thankful for the awkward shove into the limelight. It was a little bright and awkward at first, but eventually I got used to it. I acclimated to the invasive questions, the constant photographers snapping pictures left and right whenever we left our home, and my dire dependency on our security team, who’d held my life in their hands on more occasions than one. When I stepped out of the limelight, I thought the limelight would leave me.
I was wrong.
The sound of the room shifting, people murmuring, and chairs being shoved to the side echoed in my head like the banging of a war drum. It had been the soundtrack for the last five years of my life in the public eye.
The press was here.
I didn’t even have time to disconnect from the guy I was dancing with. We’d done a few turns around the floor, and the more I swayed in his arms, the less I noticed Jace nuzzling the tall brunette toward the pool tables.
“Mrs. Vanderson, is it true that you and your husband are currently separated?” asked a woman with a fat microphone that had a fuzzy red top. My gut clenched, wanting to scream at her that she wasn’t allowed to invade my privacy like this, but I knew she was. She had every right because it was a public place and her camera was in plain, obvious view, which meant assumed consent by all parties.
I’d studied the laws, ready for the day when one of them stepped out of line. The only way I would get out of this was if the owner or manager asked them to leave, and I had no idea if he cared or not. The guy who was dancing had already dropped his hands and left the scene. I tried to squeeze past the reporter, but her cameraman blocked my way.
“Several people witnessed you dancing with other men on a few occasions over the past month—do you have a comment about a new fling? Are you and Bryan Vanderson separated?” She spoke as fast as gunfire. I ignored her.
A few days earlier, a few local Nashville stations had started speculating on the fact that my husband had been seen attending three different events alone, never commenting on why I wasn’t there. The gossip train started, and a funny little saying emerged because of it. “Where in the world is Faith Vanderson?” started trending with a picture of me and a red hat photoshopped onto my head like I was Carmen Sandiego. It was childish and stupid, but predictable. Bryan was one of the richest men in Nashville, and after our stint with that reality show, we were a constant topic of news, so my leaving was sure to stir the pot.
But to call them on me here of all places…Jace was an asshole for this. I had locked eyes with him as he fished for his phone, as he dialed the number. Something deep down in my bones had me looking for Jace, as though he’d see how this looked, how terrible an error he’d made, and he’d come rushing in to save me.
My eyes caught on his as he tugged the brunette closer, her ample cleavage pushed up against his firm chest. He lifted his dark beer bottle in my direction as though to say, Cheers. Hot pain sliced through my middle as two more reporters showed up, cornering me.
Why on earth does it hurt more to see him with another woman than this horrific display of betrayal?
He had called The Triple O: Obvious, Original, Orgasmic, a gossip tabloid that didn’t ever care about facts or clearing up any of the rumors it started. They were unsophisticated and often tried to get the most unflattering photo of whoever they were exposing. To call them journalists would be a far cry from professional. They were vultures—gross, money-hungry vultures. I didn’t know who the other reporters were, but Triple O was bad enough.
I tried to shoulder past them again, but a second cameraman shoulder-checked me, causing me to fall to the side, back toward the center. Of course, that little move was off camera, so no one would see it. My eyes watered, and my heart raced frantically in my chest. If I ran to the parking lot, they’d have me alone. If I stayed here, a bigger group would gather. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to scream and crumble into a tiny, invisible ball all at the same time.
I looked around for help, from anyone. Gemma kept trying to get to me, but the crowd wouldn’t let her. The light from the camera in my eyes blinded me. Thankfully, fucking finally the manager came over and demanded they leave, but I knew they’d be waiting for me. I knew I couldn’t escape this now. They’d get my parents’ address and wait for me there. They’d stalk me and make my life a living hell.
I set my jaw and walked over to Jace, who was laughing into his beer, watching someone play pool. His brunette date curled herself farther under his arm as the people around the table made little sniggering sounds at my approach.
Pulse hammering, blood rushing, I walked right up to the man who’d once held my heart and slapped him across the face. Everyone stopped laughing and talking. Jace’s date straightened up, away from him, and covered her mouth in shock.
I stepped forward to make sure I got my point across. “What is wrong with you? This is bigger than you know, you asshole. You’re going to feel l
ike shit once you realize what you’ve done.” I worked my jaw back and forth to hold off the tears that wanted to break through my defenses. “I have no idea what I did to make you hate me, but I’m done wishing you didn’t. I’m done pining and letting you hold first place in a heart that hasn’t belonged to anyone but you. I’m done.”
I spewed and gushed all my truths in front of a group of strangers, in front of a red-faced, jaw-clenching Jace, who likely didn’t give two shits that I had just told him I was still pining for him. I didn’t care.
I went to the bathroom, Gemma following closely. Once we were inside, she locked the door, and I hesitantly called Tom, head of the security detail I’d left behind in Nashville. It was an awkward position I was in, still the billionaire’s wife regardless of the fact that I was leaving him.
I was still tied to him in some things. The security detail was one of them, ironically enough. Bryan still wanted me protected, at least from everyone but him. So, he had told Tom to come to Collierville as soon as I admitted to where I was. He’d been staying in a hotel, just waiting around for a phone call from me.
When his firm fist pounded three times in succession followed by two short ones, I opened the door and let him quickly and safely shuttle me to his car.
I didn’t look back to see if Jace saw.
Thirteen
It had been five days since the scene at the Shelby bar where Faith confessed to pining for me, confessed that I still occupied first place in her heart—then ripped it all away from me in one fell swoop.
I refused to hope she still felt anything at all for me, not after she’d married another man, not after she’d started another life with someone who wasn’t me. I was still so hurt and damaged from what she had done, but still…hearing her admit that she hadn’t quite let me go the way I’d assumed she had felt good.
Internally, I merely accepted that it assuaged my pride, nothing more.
I was driving down Main Street, about to turn right to head into work, when a chain-link fence around an empty lot caught my attention. It was practically around the corner from my shop, a bit closer to downtown. A large blue sign hung from where the lock secured the gate, but that was the only indication that anything had happened to the empty lot. Pulling up, I put my truck in park and hopped out.
This industrial area had been vacant for years, void of any structures, just a bit of old sidewalk and dirt. Honestly it was prime real estate with how close it was to downtown, a dream spot for owning a business. I gripped the chain and tilted the sign to see the lettering better.
Future Home of Mustard Seed Auto, Tires, & Towing
I dropped the sign like it’d suddenly burst into flames.
There was no way this was happening, no fucking way, not less than a mile away from my auto shop, the only auto shop on this side of town. But still…
Could she?
I doubted Faith knew the first thing about running a business, but then again, I had no idea what she had been up to for the last five years. I had no idea if she opened businesses or ran them. Better to know for sure.
I jumped into the truck and peeled out, making a sharp U-turn, gassing it through our little town. Speeding, I took a rough right onto S Rowlett Street and swung a quick left into the Morgan driveway, sputtering rocks and gravel behind me. I put the truck in park and jogged to the front door. No one answered; in fact, I looked around and realized the only car there was Faith’s Rover.
I pounded my fist against her fancy-ass door with the stylish bronze knocker, yelling at the top of my lungs. “Faith? Open up!”
“What do you want?” someone bellowed from above me. I took a few steps back and tipped my head back to see the windows on the top floor, squinting against the sun.
“Faith?”
“No, it’s the Pope, you idiot! What do you want?” she yelled back, hanging halfway out of the second-story window.
“Mustard Seed Auto—really?” I splayed my arms open.
“Like that, did you?” She crossed her arms, leaning on the ledge, and gave me a side smile like this was funny as hell. When we were in high school, we did a features project where we each had to create a fictitious business name. Faith always used Mustard Seed for whatever she was creating. Mustard Seed Bakery, Mustard Seed Realty…there were a few others, and I knew her handiwork when I saw it.
“Yes, very funny. Now take it down.”
She scoffed, “No. You called the paps on me—and by the way, did you see those cars on your way in? Thanks for that, asshole. They won’t leave.”
I looked behind me, toward the main road, and saw someone outside their car with a camera pointed at us. Shit.
“Sorry about that. I’ll find a way to make it up to you…but this isn’t payback, Faith—this is fucking bankruptcy!” I scolded, nearly losing it. If she did have access to her billionaire husband’s fortune then that was exactly what would happen. I’d drown without even making a splash.
She pulled the window in, slamming it shut.
“Dammit, Faith!” I eyed the window, stretching my neck back, willing her to reappear.
A second later the front door opened. Faith reached forward, grabbing my hand, and tugged me inside.
“You idiot! They’re listening. They’re watching. They’re going to print this entire argument online, so shut up!” She pressed her hand over my mouth. She was so close I could smell that cherry lip gloss she used to like to wear.
It was the roll-on kind I’d only ever seen in Jessie’s little kid makeup kits, and Faith had always said it gave the best shine. It sure as fuck always tasted good, so I didn’t care, but the fact that she was still wearing it did things to me…strange, delicious things.
She slowly lowered her hand as her eyes got big, and she took a few steps back. She likely hadn’t realized how close we were, or that we were alone. I brushed a hand over my face and quietly continued.
“If you were worried about that then you should have just opened the door to begin with.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “I forgot how loud you are.”
Unwilling to let it pass, I smirked and leaned closer. “I’ve never forgotten how loud you are.”
As expected, she flushed pink, and it made me wildly ambitious.
“You need to leave.” She cleared her throat and stood up straight.
“Is that really what you want?” I asked, toying with her. I didn’t care if she wanted me to or not, but…fuck, memories…
She took a half-step back, conveying loud and clear that she didn’t want whatever it was I was insinuating, but the fact that she didn’t verbally tell me to go jump off a cliff was something.
I ducked my head, changing tactics. “You’ll put me out of business, but I thought you had no money anyway.” I quirked my eyebrow in question.
She watched me for a solid second or two, making me shift with discomfort.
Suddenly she stepped closer. “Tell me what happened with your mama.”
What?
I blinked, keeping a stoic expression as I said, “Pass.”
She let out a huff of air. “I’ll take it down if you tell me.” Her eyes disarmed me, and she stepped even closer, so close I could feel the heat coming off her body. She always ran warm, like a little spot of sunshine. I narrowed my eyes, telling her to go fuck herself with my gaze.
She inhaled a shuddering breath, as though she was trying to prove something. “I still have some cash left from the car I sold, and…I…” Blink, swallow—she was a mess. “I have access to more,” she finished, jutting her chin up.
“That so?” I stalked closer, and my nose twitched. Cinnamon sugar. Sunshine. Cherry lip gloss.
She lowered her chin, and I shook my head to focus. “I don’t buy it. You don’t have the kind of capital to start a business of that caliber, nor do you have the brass to do it.”
She cocked her hip, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t question how much capital I have, Jace. You know if I say I
have the money to open it, I do.”
Those crystal blues stared at me, silently asking me for truths while she threw out half-assed lies. I wouldn’t cave, and I wondered if she would.
Her annoying-as-hell hall clock ticked in the silence then she whispered another request.
“Tell me about why you went to jail.”
Where the fuck was she getting this intel? I knew Jessie hadn’t told her shit, but either way, there wasn’t anything I was interested in rehashing with Faith.
“Pass.”
She turned on her heel and let out an undignified groan while pinning her hands to her hips. “I can look it up on my own, I would just rather get your side of it.”
“And if I don’t tell you, you’re going to open a competing auto service?”
“Why not? I need something to do with my time.” She lifted a shoulder.
I stared at her, watching for any tells that she was lying, then ground my back molars together. I stepped closer to her, forcing her eyes to search my face for clues.
“It’s awful fast, don’t you think?” I grabbed a stray piece of her hair and twirled it around my finger. Pure fucking silk.
“N…no,” she stuttered, but she didn’t move back. “I called a guy, who made the sign…rushed it at no extra cost.”
“So, are you saying it’s just a sign?” I asked, leaning closer. With my lips just an inch from her jaw, my hand traveled to her hip, anchoring her in place.
Her chest rose, inflating like a balloon. “Um…no…what?”
This was gloriously perfect. She unraveled entirely at my touch.
I dragged my finger up her arm, pressing a ghost of a kiss to her ear. “It’s just a sign, isn’t it? It’s fake, just bullshit…you’re just messing with me?”
She leaned closer, pressing her warm fingers into my chest. If she tipped her chin up even the slightest bit, I was going to kiss her—hard.
“Maybe…but now you’ll be wondering, won’t you?” she whispered, her warm breath fanning out on my neck, those lips so close to my skin. I swallowed thickly, uselessly, hoping she’d close the distance and put me out of my misery—the shop forgotten, the past, all of it gone in a second. I turned my head, closing the small gap myself, my lips making contact with her skin as I pulled her into my arms.
