by Lacey Black
I knew coming home might lead me to running in to him, eventually. I definitely didn’t expect it to happen so soon—or conjure up those ghosts I thought had been long buried. But here we are, shovels in hand, and those ghosts standing right next to us.
Good thing I’m a strong, independent woman, right? I can handle this, working side by side for the unforeseeable future. Who knows, it might actually do me some good. Maybe I’ll finally be able to let go of the past that’s been holding me back.
Maybe now I’ll finally be free.
Chapter Five
Jensen
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I’m sure everyone within a two-mile radius can hear, and my mind? Holy shit. I can’t believe the new owner of the Elliott mansion is none other than Kathryn Elliott. My Kate.
Seeing her today sent me back more than a decade when she was my everything. Her long blonde hair, her striking hazel eyes, and that familiar scent of honeysuckle. It all brought me right back to a time when an eighteen-year-old boy spent every chance he got wrapped up in the girl he loved.
But Kate isn’t a girl anymore, and I’m no boy.
I have twelve years’ worth of hurt, fear, and even love under my belt. No, I haven’t felt all of those simultaneously, but in some ways, they all go hand in hand. You can’t have love without hurt, and in most cases, you can’t have hurt without love.
Knowing that Kate is back has me driving as fast as I can home, not even caring I’m speeding. I have no idea how to process this revelation. A big part of me wants to call Garrett for a beer. And by beer, I mean shots of Jack until everything is numb and dark. The other part wants to turn my truck around, walk back down to where I saw her, and throw my arms around her.
That’s the reaction that scares me the most.
Instead, I focus on Max and finding that damn baseball. He keeps it in a round case, ensuring the ball remains in good condition. Not that we can’t get another one signed by Sawyer Randall—he is married to my cousin, after all. It’s the point that it’s this baseball my son loves so damn much. I’d hate for him to lose it.
Pulling into my driveway, I head inside to search for the ball. I come up empty, knowing it’s got to be in his bag. I made sure I put it there myself. He may have pulled it out of the bag, but I doubt it. He was too worried about making sure he tied his new pair of tennis shoes. Even though he’s four, Max insisted on a pair of laced shoes for the upcoming school year. When we were in the department store, I told him I would only buy them if he would learn to tie his shoes, which he readily agreed. It took him a few tries, and even then, he still fumbles a little, but by the end of our weekend, he had the gist of it and was trying his own shoes.
When I realize it’s not here, I decide to head over to Ashley’s. It’s gotta be in the bag. I park on the street, knowing I won’t be staying long. As I knock on the door, my ex-wife comes around the corner, a wide smile beaming across her face.
“Jensen, what a pleasant surprise,” she coos, obviously happy to see me, as she opens the door and allows me to enter.
“I came to help find the baseball,” I state, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Oh!” she says, her eyes wide with excitement, “Good news! We found the baseball!”
Of course she did.
“Well, that’s good. Was it in his bag?” I find myself asking, hoping that I was successful in masking my annoyance.
She reaches out and sets her hand on my forearm. “Silly little ball was mixed in with his blanket,” she says with a giggle. “Since you’re here, why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m sure Max would be so excited to have you stay. Plus, I made pot roast, your favorite.”
Does anyone else sense that I’ve been played here, or is it just me?
“Umm,” I start, but am cut off when I hear small feel running down the hall.
“Max, your dad is here and he’s staying for dinner,” Ashley hollers to our son.
“I can’t stay,” I state, but it’s too late. Max comes around the corner and flies into my arms.
“Daddy! You’re staying for dinner?”
Exhaling deeply, I glance at my mini-me. “Yeah, Buddy, I’m staying for dinner.”
“Yay!” he hollers, throwing his arms in the air in victory. And in his hand? The damn baseball.
“Why don’t you go wash up for dinner,” Ashley tells our son, still beaming up at me like she won the fucking lottery. Obviously, today is a good day on the Ashley rollercoaster.
Deciding to play nice for the sake of Max, I put him down and follow. “Come on, Buddy, let’s go wash our hands.”
After we both make sure we’re clean to eat dinner, we head to the kitchen. Ashley is humming a song that sounds a lot like the one we danced to at our wedding reception, a happy little grin on her pretty face.
“Anything I can help with?” I offer.
“Will you grab the cottage cheese from the fridge?” she asks, taking the pan of pot roast, potatoes, and carrots over to the small dining room table.
While I grab the small carton of Max’s favorite side dish, I pour him a small glass of milk and head to the table. First thing I notice is the table is set exactly as it used to be when I still lived here. Me at the head of the table and her directly across from me. Max’s spot is nestled right between us. He’s already seated in his booster when I set his cup of milk down in front of him, and I watch as he takes a few greedy gulps. The boy loves milk.
Dinner is nice, if not a little on the painful side. I can’t help but wonder if this was a setup, considering she made one of my favorite meals. I have a hard time believing she made pot roast and all the trimmings for just Max and herself. Ashley drones on about her day, as if us all eating together is completely normal, but as much as I try to focus on what she’s saying, my mind is back at the Elliott mansion.
I can’t believe Kate is back and living in that house. How long would it have been before I found out that tidbit of information? Would she have sought me out or would we have just casually run into each other at the supermarket? What if I hadn’t gotten that job and it was weeks—months—before I realized she was living just three short miles from me?
“Are you okay? You seem a little distracted,” Ashley says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry. Just a busy day at work,” I tell her, taking another bite of my food.
“I’m sure you’re crazy busy. I barely ever saw you in July and August,” she reminds, bringing up the past with a pained look. It was always one of her reasons to bitch. She hated I was always dirty, but even more so that I spent so much time working my business. I was always busy, but the summer months were the worst.
“Yeah,” I reply, not really sure what else to say. It’s not like we haven’t had this fight before many times over, and frankly, we’re divorced, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.
“So where are you working?” she asks, surprising the hell out of me. Ashley never asked about my work, didn’t really care that much.
“All over, really, but I just started to work on the mansion on Coast Drive,” I answer, moving my food around on my plate.
I can feel her eyes assessing me from across the table, but I don’t look up. Instead, I shovel a little more meat into my mouth, praying this dinner ends quicker rather than later. “Someone bought the Elliott mansion?” she asks, and yes, there’s definitely something snippy in her tone.
My mind immediately goes the woman who now owns the house. I don’t want to start a war with my ex, even though it’s really none of her business who now owns that place. But the truth is, she’s always felt threatened by Kate. Not physically, of course, but by her memory. Ashley went to school with Kate and me, so she knows all about our history. She knows about the plans we had made that never were carried out. She knows all about the pain I carried around after Kate’s abrupt exit from town.
She knows everything, and that’s why I keep the new owner’s name to myself.
“It looks like it,�
�� I answer, not ready to get into the specifics of the Elliott mansion. Besides, I don’t really have many of the details myself, other than Kate’s dad passing away and leaving her the house.
“Wow, well, it will be good to see new life to that old dump.” It’s anything but a dump, I think to myself. Sure, it needs some work, but the house is still as beautiful as ever.
So is the owner.
Shaking that thought out of my head, I make it through the rest of dinner, thankful that the house isn’t brought back up again. I help gather up the dirty dishes, taking them over to the sink, when Ashley suggests I help Max with his bath. Our son is instantly excited, running off to get his favorite squirt toy ready, so there’s not much hope of me trying to sneak out of the house now.
Sighing in resignation, I head off to the bathroom. At least I can hide out there with Max instead of in the kitchen with Ashley. I let him play for a bit before grabbing the shampoo and scrubbing down his head. I can feel the gritty sand, which makes me smile. Max loves playing in the dirt as much as I always did, and I never fail to find some dirt or sand on his scalp. After a thorough scrubbing and rinse, he gets out and heads to his room where he finds his Captain American pajamas. Grabbing a book off the shelf, I read through it before his eyes start to droop.
“One more?” he asks, snuggled into my side.
“Not tonight, Buddy. I’m gonna head home so you can get some sleep,” I tell him, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Night, Daddy. Love you,” he whispers.
“Night, Buddy. Love you too,” I tell him, slowly crawling out of his bed and pulling the lightweight covers over his body. He snuggles in, and almost drifts off instantly, the Sawyer Randall baseball still in his hand.
Flipping off the light, I head back to the kitchen, ready to tell Ashley goodbye. When I get there, I find it mostly dark, the light above the sink providing just enough light that no one trips or runs into anything if they get up in the night. She’s not in the living room, and it looks like the house is already locked up for the night. There’s only one place she can be, and my stomach churns with dread as I head that way.
The door is cracked open and low light spills through the doorway. I already know what awaits me on the other side. She’s tried this shit before. It didn’t work then, and it sure as hell isn’t going to work now. I push open the door with little fanfare and spot my ex-wife immediately. She’s lying on the bed, wearing a white and pink nightgown that reveals a lot more of her skin than I should be seeing. In fact, I can see her nipples poking through the lace and her bare pussy is on full display.
“Ashley,” I groan, and not in the excited way she’s expecting. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” she asks, a coy smile playing on her plump lips. “Welcome home my husband after a long day’s work?”
I close my eyes, hating what’s happening. I’ve known this woman long enough that whatever is about to come out of my mouth is going to be wrong in her eyes. She’s played this game our entire adult lives, and frankly, I’m tired. I just want to go home, get a little work done, have a beer, and fall sleep—alone. Now, I have to deal with my ex as I navigate today’s landmine field, and that’s sure as fuck what this is. No matter what I say, what I do, it’s going to blow up in my face.
“Ashley, I’m going home.” I exhale loudly, planting my hands firmly on my hips, and keep my eyes focused on hers.
“You are home, silly,” she coos, running her hand down the white lace that covers her left breast.
“I’m not. We’re divorced. This isn’t happening,” I tell her with conviction.
She smiles from her position on the bed. “That’s not what you said last time,” she whispers, an annoying giggle spilling from her lips.
My mind goes right back to that night, more than eleven months ago, when she tried this same shit. Only that time, it worked. I got caught up in the good, reminiscing about happier times. Next thing I knew, I was in her bed and hating myself the next morning. And speaking of the next morning, when I tried to politely remind her we were divorced and anything between us wasn’t happening again, she threw a picture frame at my head and called me every name in the book. She also made my life hell for the next month when it came to Max, using him as much as she could as a pawn to get to me.
We finally got back to a cordial place, and now this. We’re right back to where we started. Only this time, I’m not fucking her. No way, no how.
“Don’t be silly, Jensen. We’ve always had chemistry in the bedroom.”
I won’t deny that because it wouldn’t be true. She’s right. We’ve always clicked between the sheets, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump back between them.
“Ashley, please. I’m going home, alone. Our marriage is over.”
“Maybe so, but we can still have a little fun on the side, can’t we?”
“No,” I answer right away, needing to get the hell out of here, and fast. “Have a good night. I’ll lock the front door when I leave,” I tell her, turning away.
“So, that’s just it? You’re gonna tease me all night, act like we’re one big happy family, and then just leave?”
Sighing, I keep my back to her as I say, “Yes, Ashley, I’m leaving. I want to get along with you for the sake of Max. You’re his mother and I want to continue making sure he’s number one to both of us, but this idea of us getting back together, even for just a night, isn’t happening. Besides, we’ve moved on. You even went out on a date with Riley,”
She doesn’t say anything, but I know what’s coming. I move my body out of the doorway before it gets smacked with whatever is readily available on her nightstand. I just barely get out of the way before the remote slams into the wall, popping the lid off and shooting batteries down the hall. “Bastard! I hate you! Riley meant nothing! I was using him to get a rise out of you!” she screams, no doubt going to wake up Max.
I keep moving though, needing to get out of the house as quickly as possible. Making sure the front door is secure behind me, I head to my truck. My long legs get me there quickly and my shaking fingers start it even quicker. I’m driving down the road before I can even process what the fuck just happened.
“Jeezus,” I mumble, heading in the direction of my home. Only, when I get there, I don’t pull in the driveway.
I keep going.
Visiting my mom is out of the question, even though I could really use her advice right now. She’s probably already in bed, since she gets up at four and starts her day at the bed and breakfast. I could fire off a quick text message to Jonas and see if he’s still out, but I really don’t want to head to the bar. That’s the last thing I need, actually. Samuel will bore me to death, explaining the ins and outs of prepaying your funeral before I even sit on the couch, and Marissa is probably with Rhenn, doing something I don’t want to think about my little sister doing.
So that’s why I find myself stopping in front of my older sister, Harper’s, place. Harper’s always had a pretty good head on her shoulders, and she’s kickass with advice. My boots are heavy on her front steps as I raise my hand to knock on the door. Snuggles starts to bark, her stubby little tail wagging as soon as she sees me on the opposite side of the screen door.
“Hey, man,” Latham says, unlocking the door and holding it open. “Come on in.”
“Sorry to just drop by unannounced. I was in the area,” I tell him vaguely.
Harper’s boyfriend watches me, his eyes assessing and reading. There’s no doubt he already know there’s something more than just me being in the neighborhood. “Your sister’s in the shower. Wanna come out back with me and have a beer?” he offers, nodding toward the door in the kitchen.
“Sure,” I answer, shoving my hands into my pockets and following. Snuggles is already there, clearly having heard the words out back.
Latham grabs two bottles of beer from the fridge and heads out to the deck. I take a seat on one of the chairs, anxiously opening the brew he hands me. It’s
a beautiful night, the stars high in the sky and a full moon just over the trees. I can’t help but wonder when the last time I just sat around and looked at the stars was. A month ago? Hell, six months ago? It’s hard to tell when you’re up to your eyeballs in paperwork and spend every spare minute of time you have raising a son.
“So? You gonna tell me what has you all tied up?”
I glance over at the man shacking up with my older sister. Latham Douglas owns the hardware store beside my sister’s lingerie shop, and honestly, he’s a pretty good dude. I hope one day he’ll become an official member of the family, though that’s probably a long ways off. All I know is that my sister is over-the-top happy now that they’re together, and for that, I’m grateful.
“Ashley.”
He relaxes back in his chair and takes a pull from his beer. “Ahh, the ex. I should have known.” Latham kicks his feet out straight, and as soon as Snuggles finishes sniffing all over the backyard, she lies beside his outstretched feet.
“She called me tonight because she couldn’t find Max’s baseball. I had personally packed it in his bag, but I ran home and tore up the house looking for it. When I didn’t find it, I went over to her place because I knew it had to be there.”
“Let me guess, it was?”
“Right where I had put it.”
“And?”
“She told Max I was staying for dinner. He got all excited, so it wasn’t like I could just leave and risk disappointing him,” I shrug, now knowing that’s exactly what I should have done.
“I’m guess you stayed and it was the wrong decision?”
“Definitely. To her, it meant we were one big happy family again. I found her lying on her bed in lingerie,” I confide, taking a much bigger drink of my beer.
Latham whistles. “The fact that you’re here and not there,” he starts, leaving the rest of the sentence open.
“Means I didn’t fuck her.”
We’re both quiet for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. When I hear soft footfalls in the kitchen, I know my sister is about to join the party. Harper pushes open the door, her eyes glued to her boyfriend. I instantly notice what she’s wearing and avert my eyes. Obviously she’s not expecting a late night visit from her brother or I’m sure she wouldn’t have just walked outside in a long satin negligée.
