Book Read Free

Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3)

Page 25

by Jessica Prince


  Just then the doors opened, bringing in a gust of fall wind that lifted the hair of the blonde who’d walked in. She stood just inside, scanning the crowd for less than a second before her gaze landed on Rina, then her eyes narrowed into unhappy slits.

  I was struck by a pang of familiarity at the sight of the blonde, but I couldn’t place where I knew her from. Then she stormed over to the table Rina was dancing on, pushing her way through the big, burly bikers, and grabbed Rina by the wrist. That was when it hit me. “Oh shit,” I said below my breath on a gasp. All of a sudden the atmosphere around us shifted. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d figured out who the beautiful mystery blonde was because when I looked down the table, Clay’s eyes were pinned to her as a thick wall of something not at all pleasant radiated off of him and slammed into us.

  Before anyone could say a word, he shoved his chair back, stood up, and exited the bar without a backward glance.

  “Um, someone wanna fill me in on what just happened?” Jensen asked, looking around the table. I saw confused eyes and eyes of people like me who were in the know. Clay had been ahead of me in school, but there wasn’t a single person who’d lived in Redemption at the time it all went down that didn’t know about the failed love story of Clay and Lark.

  “That’s Clay’s ex,” I answered. “She also happens to be Rina’s cousin.”

  His eyes went wide as he looked back at her. “No shit?”

  “No shit, bunny. And it’s not a pretty story. Believe me.”

  “Hmm.” He looked out into the bar with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Maybe. But some of the best ones have a good bit of ugly in them.”

  “Look at you,” I said on a giggle. “You fall in love and get all philosophical. My man’s rich and wise.”

  His arm around me grew tighter and his fingers on my hip pressed deeper. “Just speaking from experience. We had more than our fair share of ugly and look how we turned out.”

  Who was I to argue with such sound logic?

  Leaning in, I gently brushed my lips against his and said, “You know, just when I think you can’t get any better, you go and prove me wrong.”

  A low rumble slid up his throat. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  “I do. Because you’ve showed me every day since I was sixteen years old and you caught me standing in the middle of your bedroom. I might not have always known you were showing your love, but I eventually got with the program.”

  “And thank God for that.”

  As my man lapsed back into conversation with our friends, I took the time to think about everything that had happened over the past several months. It had been bittersweet when Jensen returned, that was for sure. But now that I had my happily ever after, the bitter was long gone.

  Leaving behind nothing but sweet.

  The End.

  Read a BONUS EPILOGUE

  of Bittersweet HERE

  and keep a lookout for the next book in the Redemption series, coming early 2021

  More from Redemption

  Having grown up trapped in a gilded cage, the events of one tragic night changed everything.

  Farah Highland was raised with more money than most people could ever dream of, but with that wealth and privilege came cold indifference and cruelty. Determined to start living for herself, Farah cut ties with everything and everyone she'd ever known for the chance at starting over in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains.

  Notorious town playboy, Cannon Banks grew up living the good life. He had it all, loving parents, good friends, and a face and body that drove women wild. Love and commitment were the last things on his mind . . . until he locked eyes with a woman across a crowded bar, and everything changed in a heartbeat.

  There's just one problem. Bad Alibi's newest waitress wants nothing to do with him. But he's nothing if not determined.

  Cannon and Farah are about to enter into a battle of wills.

  May the best man . . . or woman, win.

  Their marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. Or at least that was what they told themselves.

  Poppy Weston had been burned enough times by undeserving men to know her heart was best left under lock and key. She was content with her life, even with the lack of romance. Then Jase Hyland walked into Redbud Inn and offered her something she couldn't refuse. In return, all she had to do was marry him.

  Jase had seen firsthand the kind of damage relationships caused, and he wanted nothing to do with it. He'd been taught from a young age that the only things that should matter to a man were wealth and power. However, all it took was a series of events to lead him down a path he never expected to travel.

  It was supposed to be simple. No feelings, no emotions, just two friends entering into a mutually beneficial arrangement.

  He thought he had it all figured out . . . until he went and fell for his wife.

  Enjoy an Excerpt from Wildflower

  Did you enjoy the second chance romance in Bittersweet?

  Then I’ve got another book you are going to LOVE. Keep reading for a peek.

  Prologue

  Harlow

  Eighteen years old

  Blinking rapidly against the tears that blurred my vision, I moved to my dresser and pulled out another handful of clothes, tossing them haphazardly into one of the open suitcases laying on the bed. I didn’t have it in me to care about taking the time to fold each item and placing them in neat, orderly stacks. Wrinkles were the least of my worries at that moment.

  Escape.

  That was all I could concentrate on.

  Escape from this small town where everyone knew everyone and there were so many noses in your personal business keeping a secret was an inconceivable notion.

  Escape from the heartache that seemed to chase me around day after day. Where a dark cloud hung over my head like a beacon for everyone to see, announcing my misery with every step I took.

  Escape from the one and only boy I had ever loved. The boy I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. The boy I had spent the last two years giving every single piece of myself to, just to have him shove it all back in my face without so much as blinking.

  I fell in love with Noah Murphy the moment I laid eyes on him, and like any naïve, ignorant teenage girl, visions of white picket fences and happily-ever-afters clogged my brain.

  I was an idiot.

  I thought he was the love of my life. My knight in shining armor. I thought he was my fairytale come to life and we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, one blissful year after another.

  Then real life happened and my dreams shattered into a million pieces, falling at my feet. What did I even know about love anyway? I mean, really. I only knew of the romanticized version I’d created in my head. I knew nothing about the real world and what being an adult with adult problems and adult responsibilities meant. I’d been safely cocooned inside my own little childish bubble all my life. I couldn’t even wrap my head around the concept of being an adult.

  Sure, it sounds easy enough in theory. We all want to grow up faster than we should, right?

  We can’t wait to be old enough to drive.

  We can’t wait to be old enough to drink.

  We can’t wait to be old enough to move out on our own. Out from under the thumb of all those responsible adults with their unreasonable rules and expectations. I, just like every other dumb kid I knew, figured I could do anything. How hard could it really be?

  Right?

  So, so wrong.

  The moment Noah and I were hit with something outside the realm of our tiny, insulated existence, we faltered, we stumbled, and we eventually crashed, unable to pick ourselves up from the wreckage and dust ourselves off. It was over. Done. There was no going back. We’d been tested by the real world and we had failed.

  Epically.

  So I was doing what I had to in order to make things right again.

  “What’s going on?”

  I spun
back around to grab another load of clothes from the dresser, not bothering to glance in the direction of Noah’s voice. I knew if I looked at him and saw those whiskey-colored eyes looking back at me my resolve would weaken. It always did.

  “I’m packing,” I answered blandly, closing the lid on one of the full suitcases and zipping it up, ready to move on to the next one.

  When Noah spoke again his voice was closer. “I can see that. What I don’t understand is why. Where you goin’, wildflower?”

  The sound of that endearment—that sweet nickname he’d given me the first day we met—was like a shot to the heart. I had to squeeze my eyes against the onslaught of tears that threatened to fall.

  “I’m leaving,” was all I said in response as I kept my sole focus on the task at hand.

  “Look at me, wildflower.”

  I ignored his soft command, for my own wellbeing.

  “Goddamn it, Harlow! Look at me!”

  I spun around on a shout. “What? What do you want from me, Noah?”

  “Baby, please,” he pleaded, taking a step in my direction. The instant I moved back a pace he stopped, seemingly shocked at my reaction. “Let’s talk about this, okay? We can fix this.”

  “No, we can’t,” I told him quietly. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

  At my words he moved forward, ignoring my retreat until he was standing so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “Don’t do this, baby. Please. I love you.”

  I lost the battle against my tears. I let them fill my eyes before trickling down my cheeks, distorting his image as I stared up at him. “If you loving someone means leaving them all alone when they needed you the most, then I’m better off without it. You don’t know how to love anyone but yourself, Noah.”

  “Don’t say that,” he spoke in an agonized whisper before his voice grew louder. “Don’t say that! It’s not true, and you know it, Harlow! I love you. You’re not leaving me. I won’t let you. We can work this out.”

  I tried my hardest to ignore the pain etched into Noah’s expression. He had no right to stand in front of me looking hurt.

  I hurt.

  I was the one suffering.

  Seeing that look on his face caused the bone-deep sorrow that had been plaguing me for weeks to morph into something else entirely.

  Red hot anger.

  Reaching out, I snatched up the envelope that was resting on my nightstand and shoved it into his chest as hard as I could, sending him teetering back only a step. Noah’s size had always been something I loved about him. I was tall for a girl but he still towered over me, standing at six foot two at only eighteen years old, and still growing. He was tall and muscular thanks to years of football, and every time he wrapped me in his arms, I felt secure. He was my safe place, my anchor.

  Until he wasn’t.

  At that very moment his size and strength did nothing but infuriate me more.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, lifting the flap of the envelope and pulling out the papers inside. Those warm eyes grew wide, his full lips parted on a heavy exhale as his jaw dropped.

  I spoke before he could say so much as one word in objection.

  “Sign them,” I demanded. “Sign them and let me go. This isn’t want you want. It never was. I’m giving you an out. All you have to do is sign the papers.”

  “I don’t want a fucking out,” he growled.

  The next words out of my mouth froze him in place and I knew I’d finally hit my mark. “Then do it for me. Sign them and let me go so I can try and get back to happy.” My voice broke on a sob that bubbled up in my throat. “I hate feeling this way all the time. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to.” Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I looked at him beseechingly, wanting—no, needing—him to understand. “This isn’t the life I thought we’d have. I don’t want this life. I want something better.”

  My voice was so quiet I feared he might not have heard me, but then his eyes grew wet as he looked down at me. His voice came out scratchy, full of regret. “We can fix this. I can fix this. You have to let me, baby.”

  “Sign the papers, Noah. Give me that. I haven’t asked you for anything. You owe me this.”

  He stood motionless for what felt like a lifetime before finally turning on his heels and storming from the room, papers still in hand.

  That was the last time I saw my husband.

  Chapter 1

  Harlow

  Present day

  With a dramatic groan, I collapsed onto a bus bench, falling to my back in exhaustion as the people passed by and stared at my somewhat childish, yet completely justifiable behavior.

  “Jesus Christ, will you please get up? You’re acting like a baby.”

  Lifting my head just slightly, I tried to melt Rowan’s face off with my eyes. “No!” I spat as I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun so I could give him the full potential of my go-to-hell gaze without the sun blinding me. “I’m freezing, I lost feeling in my fingers three shops ago, my shoes are filling up with blood, and if I have to listen to the words cut, color, clarity, or carat one more goddamned time, I’m going to lose my shit, Rowan. I swear to God.

  “Dear Christ,” he grumbled under his breath. “You’re just as dramatic is Navie. You’re both ridiculous.”

  “Are not!”

  “Are too—oh God, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” he laughed humorlessly as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. His rumpled hair did nothing but make him even better looking. If I didn’t hate him with a fiery passion for dragging me around half the friggin’ city looking for “the perfect ring” to propose to my best friend with, I’d willingly admit he was one of the best looking guys I’d ever laid eyes on, and I could totally understand why Navie fell for him. But I did hate him and I wanted him to suffer greatly; preferably from severe adult acne and grownup braces. But at that moment I’d take whatever I could get.

  “Your feet wouldn’t be bleeding if you didn’t insist on wearing ridiculous heels to walk around New York while we looked for rings. Now get your ass up and help me find the perfect ring!”

  “You know,” I started as I stood from the bench, my hands planted firmly on my hips. “I can now understand why Navie gets all stabby sometimes. Just an FYI, if she ever murders you, I’ll totally help her hide the body.”

  Not waiting for a response from him, I started up the sidewalk, my feet protesting every single step I took. Rowan was right, I picked the wrong shoes to traipse around the city to ring-shop in. But I’d be damned if I admitted that out loud. Besides, they looked fabulous, so the pain was worth it.

  “One more store, Rowan, that’s it.”

  “Well, you know what they say. Tenth time’s the charm.”

  He wasn’t kidding. We’d visited nine stores already. All of them held the most beautiful rings imaginable. Many of them, I knew for a fact Navie would love. None of them—according to Rowan—were good enough for his future fiancée.

  When he first asked me if I’d help him find a ring so he could propose to my best friend, I’d been ecstatic. He had it all planned out, he was going to pop the question when her family came to town and they finally mixed clans for the first time on Thanksgiving break.

  Even though I wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of marriage for my own personal reasons, I was thrilled that my friend had met the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. I wasn’t a believer in soul mates or happily-ever-afters, but just because I was a Negative Nancy didn’t mean I wasn’t happy for those I loved that still held on to that notion. After what I’d experienced earlier in my life, I was anti-matrimony, but I was still excited to be a part of my friend’s happiness.

  Now after a full day of this bullshit? Not so much.

  The bell jingled over the door as we stepped into the next store and out of the frigid New York winter air. It was like fate was smiling down on me, sympathetic to my poor feet and frostbit fingers, because the instant the door closed
behind us I saw it, and judging by Rowan’s deep inhalation he spotted it too. We made a beeline for the case, both our mouths hanging open in awe. It was perfect!

  “That’s the one,” Rowan said at the same time I breathed, “That’s it.”

  A gorgeous sapphire, the same color as Navie’s eyes, shimmered as though a spotlight was focused on it. The center stone sat pillowed in sparkly clear diamonds. Think Princess Di, but a little more modern. It was classic. It was beautiful. It screamed antique. And as Rowan asked the jeweler to take it out of the case for closer inspection, I had to refrain from jumping up and down in the middle of the store, clapping for joy that I was finally off the hook. I never knew it was possible, but after my day with Rowan, I officially hated shopping.

  I stared at the ring in amazement, tuning out their muffled voices as Rowan made his transaction. All the while, I imagined how gorgeous it would look resting on Navie’s left ring finger. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when he finally popped the question.

  On that thought, my phone rang from inside my purse. I stepped away, content to leave Rowan on his own now that I’d dutifully completed my part as bestest friend forever. I grinned as I saw the name on the display and swiped the screen, lifting it from my ear, thinking my day had just gotten better.

 

‹ Prev