by Piper Rayne
“I called in a sub at the last minute. I didn’t want to miss your appointment,” Austin says.
I give him a warm smile.
“Hey, you.” Dr. Estes raises her hand in a high five for Easton, and he slaps hers.
His auburn hair from Holly has already turned darker like Austin’s, but his cute freckles are all Holly shining through.
“I heard you’re going to be a big brother,” Dr. Estes says.
“Yup,” Easton says and turns to me. “Aunt Sedona, can I touch your belly?”
Easton’s been obsessed with my stomach, always talking to it and touching it. Telling the baby what he’s going to do for it and what his parents are doing to prepare for her. He’s going to be the best big brother.
“Let the doctor check me out first,” I say.
He crawls up on the waiting chair. The chairs that were usually empty when I was pregnant with Palmer.
“And Mommy? Where’s she?” Dr. Estes asks Austin.
“Holly’s stuck at work.” He touches my shoulder. “You doing okay?”
I suck back my emotions. This is such a happy time for my brother and Holly, and I’m not going to ruin it with my own shit. I offered to carry their baby after Holly suffered two miscarriages. The fertility treatments had already cost them so much money and I couldn’t bear to see them go through any more disappointment. After Austin stepped in to raise me when our parents died, carrying his baby is the least I can do.
“I’m great.” I smile, hoping he’s so preoccupied with his upcoming responsibilities of having two children that he won’t notice my anxiety twisting its way through my body, wringing me tight.
His lips tip down, and I sigh. Yeah, guess not. Austin’s practically my father. Since I was eight, he’s the one who raised me and saw me through my pre-adolescent and teenage years. He was there, warning me when I first met Jamison, making sure my door was open. Being a teacher at our high school, he saw us and worried we were growing too close for our age and stage of life.
Dr. Estes does my exam. I’m measuring thirty-seven weeks now. Easton kisses my belly and his eyes light up when he hears the heartbeat, placing his ear exactly where Dr. Estes had the instrument.
On the way out, Easton puts one of his hands in mine and the other in Austin’s, another Dum Dum stick sticking out of his mouth.
“You want to talk?” Austin asks me, stopping by my car.
I’m parked by an open grassy area and Easton walks along the curb as if it’s a tightrope.
“No. I’m fine. He’s meeting us at the park tomorrow.”
Austin nods. “Did you tell him about…” His gaze dips to my large belly.
“No. I know I should. It’s childish and mean to allow him to think—”
“Hell no. That guy deserves to think you’ve moved on.”
Moved on? For the last eighteen months, I’ve been at a standstill. I’ve carried on with my life, but I’m not really living it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He eyes Easton and shifts his attention back to me. “Anytime.”
“You and Holly, do you guys fight? I mean, is everything perfect?”
His lips tick up and a belly laugh erupts out of him. “Um… no. Why on Earth would you think that?”
I shrug. “You guys seem happy.”
His laugh abruptly stops. “We are happy, but we’re not perfect. All couples fight.”
Easton starts repeating his ABCs, skipping over L through P. Austin stops Easton from going from K to Q and has him repeat after him. Always the teacher.
“I just wondered. I mean, Mom and Dad were always so happy.”
His shoulders sink and he inhales a deep breath. “Being the oldest sucks at times. I’ve had to pop your happy bubble so many times over the years that I feel like the fucking Grinch stealing your youth. Marriage is hard work, Sedona. I know you, Phoenix, and Kingston never saw Mom and Dad fight, and this town paints their love story like a bestselling romance novel. Truth is, they fought, they made up. I think they were happy. They smiled and laughed a lot. Kept having kids.” He chuckles. “But their love wasn’t as perfect as this town wishes it were. You guys just don’t remember. Nothing is ever perfect. You take the good with the bad.”
“I know.”
He lowers to look into my eyes. “Do you? Listen to me, knowing Jamison from before he started drinking, I think he’s a good guy who veered onto the wrong path.” I open my mouth, but he holds up his hand. “Let me finish. I’m not saying take him back. Not even close to that. Everything has come easy to you two until this. Maybe I have a soft spot because he lost the career he thought he was destined for, and I understand what that does to someone. Not that I’d change anything in my life, but for years after I returned, I would’ve done everything to get back to where I was before our parents died. Then Holly arrived in Lake Starlight and what I envisioned for my future changed. That doesn’t happen for everyone. I think some people get stuck.”
“That’s the thing though. I was already in his life. I was second to soccer then, and I dealt with it. Now that he can’t have his first love, it’s like I’m sloppy seconds.” It’s the first time I’ve said that to anyone, although I always felt second best to his soccer career.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares at the blue sky. “The guy grew up with a love for soccer. I doubt he ever thought of you as second, but that doesn’t negate your feelings either. All you can really do now is allow him to get to know Palmer. She deserves to have a dad if he wants to be a part of her life. No one said you have to allow him back into your heart.”
“So just allow him to get close enough to her to risk hurting her?”
“Easton, careful.” He looks from his son back to me and places both hands on my shoulders. “I’m going to tear off the Band-Aid, okay?” His eyes bore into mine and I nod, biting my lip. “You need to take yourself out of the equation. You need to focus solely on his relationship with Palmer. If the two of you try to get back together, that just complicates things and has the capacity to ruin Palmer’s relationship with her father—or make it more difficult at the very least. I can’t speak for raising a kid without being partners with his mother, but I have to think that the better you two work together, the better off Palmer is. So right now, it’s probably best to concentrate on Jamison and Palmer’s relationship, not yours and Jamison’s.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
Austin calls Easton back over when he strays a little too far and tells him they’re going to go.
Easton walks under his dad’s arms and hugs and kisses my belly. “Bye-bye, sista. Bye, Aunt Sedona.”
I nod at Austin, letting him know I understand the advice he’s given, and crouch to Easton’s level to give him a big hug. I’m rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. Children are so sweet and innocent before life takes the floor out from beneath their feet.
“Hang in there. After you get that one out, your hormones won’t be interfering.” Austin nods toward my stomach and shoots me his gentle smile that displays how grateful he is I sacrificed my body for nine months to grow his daughter.
I’d do it as many times he needs me to. God knows he put his life on hold for me.
“Thanks, Austin.”
“Give Palmer a hug and a kiss from us.” He snatches Easton up before he runs into the parking lot.
“I will. Love you.” I blow a kiss and Easton giggles, blowing one back.
Once I’m alone in my car, I pull out of the doctor’s office parking lot. My mind can’t stop thinking about the first time I met Jamison and how perfect our destiny seemed then.
Six
Sedona
Seventeen years old
Phoenix slams her locker. “The nerve of him. Telling me to ‘buckle down on my studies.’” My twin sister imitates our oldest brother, Austin, with a scowl.
Whereas I’ve always felt sad that Austin had to return home after college to raise us, Phoenix challenges him at ever
y turn. What should’ve been the fun-filled years of his twenties, playing pro baseball and enjoying life, have been spent raising my siblings and me after our parents died. He’s only trying to get Phoenix to take her future seriously. He’s always stuck between the older brother and father role.
“Don’t just stand there and say nothing,” she says, leaning against her locker.
I dig into mine, switching my biology book for my calculus one. “I don’t disagree with him. I get that you’re all in for the theater group doing Grease this year, but if you want to go to college, they want the grades too.”
She shrugs, pulls out a piece of gum and pops it into her mouth, nodding to people passing through the hallways. “Maybe I don’t want to go to college. Kingston didn’t.”
I roll my eyes, remembering the fights between him and Austin. Even now that he’s graduated from the fire academy, Austin still thinks Kingston’s life should’ve taken a different path.
“If they’d give me my money, there wouldn’t be a problem.”
“You know that money is only for college.”
We walk down the hall. She’s got English while I’m in calculus. “Again, I bring up Kingston. I swear he’s Austin’s favorite.”
“I don’t think he has a favorite,” I say.
“Well, I think I’m the one he hates the most. See you.” She turns left into her classroom as I turn right.
I blow out a breath and decide to concentrate on what I can control—getting out of Lake Starlight and following my mom’s footsteps of traveling the world and writing about it. She never explained it, or maybe I was too young to understand, but I’ve always wondered why a woman who chose to be a travel writer decided to have nine kids and raise them in a small town. I guess love is powerful when it’s right. Last year when I was digging through the basement, looking for my ice skates, I found her diary from when she was sixteen. She had so many hopes and dreams until she fell in love with my dad.
Walking to my desk, I nod a hello to my classmates, who I’ve known forever. It’s rare for anyone new to move to Lake Starlight. Which means I’ll be waiting until college to meet anyone special. Don’t get me wrong, some of the boys here are cute. They just don’t do it for me. I’ll have to go to prom with someone, but as I scan the classroom, no one piques my interest.
Calculus is boring and hard, and I hate it. Why can’t I be in English with Phoenix?
Fifty minutes later, the bell rings and a pit of excitement fills my belly. It’s my lunch period, but since I work on the high school newspaper as editor-in-chief, I can go to the deserted classroom we morphed into our office.
Once I’m there, I take a bite of my turkey sandwich and boot up the computer. Grabbing the file folder in my inbox from Kasey, our sports reporter, I open it to find her resignation. Only she would actually write a resignation letter for a school newspaper. She says she doesn’t have the time to commit to the paper since she now has a part-time job at Lard Have Mercy. Great.
The information for the article I assigned her last week is still sitting there with nothing added, no research done.
She was supposed to highlight the new foreign exchange student who’s attending Lake Starlight High this year. Now that I think of it, it’s weird that I haven’t seen a new face yet. We must run on opposite schedules.
Miles breezes through the door with his tray in his hands.
“Nancy’s still mesmerized by those dimples of yours, I see.” Miles is the only person Nancy, the lunch lady, allows to leave the cafeteria with a tray.
“Actually, I think I lost her. She’s drooling over the new kid from Scotland’s accent.”
“The new foreign exchange student?”
He slides up on the desk, picking up his piece of greasy pizza. “Yeah, in fact, he’s sitting with a table full of girls right now.” Then he pretends to talk in a Scottish accent. “Look at me, I’m mister cool guy from a different country. Yeah, I play football.”
“That was a horrible accent,” I say.
He takes another bite of his pizza. “They’re treating him like a god in there,” he mumbles with food in his mouth.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”
He shrugs, finishing his pizza, and pops open the can of soda he must’ve gotten from the vending machine.
“I have to interview him. Kasey quit.”
He hops down from the table. “Good luck. The guy is a narcissist.”
“Slight exaggeration?”
He boots up his own computer. “Maybe. You know me, I hate competition, and that fucker is going to get my spot on first string.”
So that’s where all the animosity is coming from. “Hey, do you have soccer practice today?”
He nods, sipping his soda.
“Cool, I’ll try to grab him to set up an interview time then.”
“Ha! Our practices are pretty popular now. You’ll probably have to make an appointment.”
Whatever. Miles is used to being the good-looking guy in our class. He’s the managing editor for the newspaper, class president, and captain of the soccer team. All-around great guy who treats everyone with respect. Usually it’s him with the girls swarming his locker, so I’m sure this is just jealousy.
Just like I’m sure this new guy can’t be that special. The girls in our school are just tired of looking at the same old boys, that’s all.
So, I was wrong.
Miles was right. Thank God I didn’t bet him.
The new foreign exchange student, Jamison Ferguson, is hot. Like HAWT hot. He runs up and down the field, masterfully handling the ball with his feet. Miles wears a red mesh shirt to signify he’s on a different team. Jamison stops the ball with his foot, pivots, and leaves Miles stretched out on the field as he easily moves around Miles and shoots the ball into the goal. Jamison’s arms fly up and he runs to his teammates for hugs and congratulations.
Poor Miles picks at the grass and throws it back down, getting to his feet.
The coach calls practice and I walk down the bleachers, along with a bunch of other girls—Jamison’s new fan club. They wave and smile and giggle as he raises his shirt to wipe his face, showing off a set of abs that you could literally wash clothes on. My core tingles with excitement.
Jamison’s gaze scatters across his new fans until they land on me. He scowls. Meanwhile, my stomach is fluttering, my entire body tingling with want.
He puts his focus back on the other girls. Guess I’m alone in that feeling then.
He’s swarmed, all the girls asking about where he learned to play and why he chose to come to Alaska. All the same questions I have written down to ask him.
“I told you,” Miles says, swinging his sweaty arm over my shoulders.
“I need an in. This is insane.”
“Wait until after he showers. Coach tells them all to go home. I’ll introduce you two.” He winks before heading toward the locker room.
Jamison walks away, waving to the girls, but he glances at me and stops before jogging over. My throat closes up the closer he comes. His blue eyes twinkle, even without any light on them. His dark hair drips with sweat, but his body is deliciously packaged with lean muscle.
Once he stands in front of me, he towers over me. “Why are you here? Still trying to figure out why I’m not wearing a kilt?”
“What?” I blink in surprise at the animosity tone in his voice. “Kilt?”
“Yeah, you know. You assuming all Scots are red-haired, pasty, and wear a kilt with nothing underneath?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His eyes narrow and he steps back. “Sure, you don’t.”
Before I can say anything, he jogs away and disappears into the building. That’s when it dawns on me and I pull out my phone. Phoenix answers on the first ring.
“Did you talk to the new foreign exchange student?” I ask.
“Ugh, isn’t he annoying? That accent of his is clearly exaggerated. And I asked hi
m where his kilt was and whether he wears anything under it, and he got all offended. It can’t be the first time someone’s asked.”
I shake my head. “Well, he just confused me for you.”
“You should feel lucky. The guy is a class-A asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
“I’ll see you at home.” I hang up and round the front of the school to the parking lot.
Austin’s ridiculous Jeep with that damn snorkel on it is parked in the front row. Maybe Miles can give me a ride so I don’t have to be seen in that thing again today.
Sitting at the picnic table, I go over my questions. Some of the parents of the soccer players pull up along the curb to pick them up, and I’m thinking the interview isn’t going to happen today.
The school doors open, and a group of guys walk out. Miles points me out to Jamison. He’s not scowling anymore, so that’s good.
“Jamison, this is Sedona Bailey,” Miles says, which means he’s already explained the twin thing.
Jamison puts out his hand. His hair is now damp from the shower and his body smells like pure man. A pair of low-slung sweatpants rest on his hips, and he wears a sweatshirt with Aberdeen Football Club stamped on it. “I’m sorry I acted like an arse.”
Now that he’s not so angry, I take better notice of his accent. Oh my God, it’s divine.
I nod, my voice lost somewhere deep down in my throat. “It’s okay. It happens.”
There’s a hint of callouses on his palm, but electricity flies up my arm at his touch.
He clears his throat. “So, Miles said you wanted to interview me for the newspaper?”
I nod.
Miles shakes his head at me because I’m blabbering like one of his groupies.
I clear my throat. “Whenever you’re available.”
“How about Friday night? We could meet somewhere?” Jamison offers.
