Timberline

by Skye McNeil

  “So, you’re going to let a little thing like Jessie’s stubbornness get in the way of love?” she scolded him after he brushed by her.

  He spun on his heels. “I’m sure by now, you heard who I am.”

  “Well, yes, but I recognized you from your books.” Grandma Jane’s eyes twinkled. “And from the way you re-invented the story about your uncle. I thought the plot sounded familiar. I pulled the book out for you to sign, but I noticed it was already autographed.”

  So Tommy wasn’t the absolute devil after all. Asher shifted the bag to his other hand. “You understand why I have to go then. Jessie doesn’t want me, and I don’t want to ruin a wedding.”

  Grandma Jane strolled over to the dresser and opened an ancient jewelry box. “Ah, our girl never changes,” she grumbled, stuffing her hand into Asher’s after retrieving an item from the box. “My granddaughter loves you. I see it in the way she looks at you. She’s hurt right now and lashing out. Don’t give up on her.”

  “She said—”

  “Horse shit what she said,” the woman interrupted. “You are A.J. Whit. You will find a way to make sure this gets on her finger.”

  Asher opened his hand and saw a dazzling pearl and diamond ring stare up at him. “She hates romance, so anything I do will be ignored.” He offered the ring to her.

  Shaking her head, Grandma Jane walked to the door. “Jessie is an editor. A romance book editor. If one gets to her desk, she has to read it cover to cover.”

  “Not if it’s from me.”

  “Then I suggest you find another way to get it to her. Be creative. I have faith in you,” Grandma Jane assured. “I don’t want to see either of you until you’re smooching again, so off with you. I’ll see you soon, and I expect a personalized note when you return.”

  Hearing the car horn again, Asher slipped the ring into his pocket. Little by little, his mind was conjuring a plan. It was insane, messy, moronic, and romantic, but he needed to try. “Thanks, Grandma Jane,” he expressed, running down the stairs. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

  »»•««

  “Jess, are you okay?” Bobbi asked, knocking on the bathroom door the next morning.

  Taking in the mirror’s reflection, Jessie wiped her nose with a tissue. “I thought I was done with all of this,” she whined above a whisper.

  After Tommy, she swore to guard her heart with a fire-breathing dragon and forty-foot wall. It took a mere four days for Asher to tame her dragon and smash down her wall. What it said about her, she didn’t care to know. She was naïve to believe he cared, yet a little part of her still clung to his memory.

  “If you don’t answer me, I’ll get Tim to knock down the door,” threatened Bobbi, her voice serious.

  This made Jessie smirk. Her little sister couldn’t manage to break down a door, but one of their cousins would have no difficulty. “All right, all right. I’m done.” She took one last glance at her gaudy outfit and opened the door. “Tada. I look like a clown.”

  Bobbi was there in a flash, wrapping her in a hug, despite her puffy dress. “You’re beautiful,” she insisted, drawing back.

  Reviewing her sister’s wedding dress, which cost as much as one month’s rent in New York City, Jessie tucked a tendril of hair from Bobbi’s face. “Not as much as you.”

  Bobbi’s face turned a deeper shade of her already-blushed cheeks. She was perfection, if there ever was living proof it existed. Gone was the kid sister who caught toads and kept them in her room as pets. Bobbi was a grown woman. One who, in Jessie’s opinion, was marrying the spawn of Satan himself.

  “Aw, thanks, Jess.” Her blue eyes washed over Jessie. “Do you want to talk about Asher?”

  “No. This is your day. I’ll not ruin it by discussing an author who will use me as the girl who gets murdered in his next story.” She tried to laugh at her joke, but the sound came out garbled.

  Placing her manicured fingers on Jessie’s forearm, Bobbi pouted her lips. “But you’re not happy. I need you cheerful at my wedding. If bad-mouthing Asher helps, then out with it.” She propped herself up against the wall in defiance. “Now would be good since I’m getting married in an hour.”

  Knowing good and well her sister would stay there until she said something, Jessie bit her bottom lip. She didn’t want to dwell on Asher, so before she could stop herself, something else came out. “Tommy tried to kiss me.”

  “What?” Bobbi’s face fell into a scowl. “What do you mean? When?”

  “After they went fishing, he cornered me on the deck and tried to kiss me,” Jessie told, already regretting her word vomit. “Asher stopped him. I didn’t know what to do. Tommy was too strong. I should also tell you, I punched Tommy for what he did. Without Asher’s interference, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

  She watched her sister’s posture droop. “I should’ve told you earlier, but I was afraid of how you would react.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have gotten dressed up today if I knew.” Bobbi glanced down at her dress and her body began shaking uncontrollably.

  “Bobbs, are you okay? What’s wrong? I’m sorry.” Jessie reached out to console her sister, but found she was laughing, not crying.

  “Oh my God, it’s so funny,” shouted her sister, stripping away the dove white designer dress. “I knew he was a scum bag, but I didn’t think he would make a move on my sister, his ex, days before our wedding. It’s ironic.” She held her stomach and doubled over. “I thought I knew him. I thought my love changed him. I guess not. I wasn’t enough for him.”

  Not able to help, Jessie watched as the laughter dissipated into tears. No one deserved this betrayal, her sister no exception. Wrapping her arms around Bobbi like her protector, Jessie closed her eyes and held the shattered bride-to-be. There would be no wedding today or any day for Tommy and Bobbi. Now came the hard part. Informing the guests.

  Smirking at the thought of telling Tommy the bad news, Jessie patted her sister’s back. “Want me to beat him up?” she asked, already anticipating the answer.

  “Uh huh,” Bobbi sniffled, nodding her head against her.

  “Perfect, now I have two reasons to knock his lights out,” Jessie said, pulling Bobbi at arm’s length.

  “What’s the other reason?” her sister asked, mascara running down her cheeks.

  “Oh, he was the one who sent the paparazzi the picture of Asher and me.”

  “He what?” Bobbi looked ready to fight now. Her eyes darkened at what she heard. Bobbi was a scrappy fighter, but that was the tip of the iceberg. The groom better haul ass before the Davis family got a hold of him. From the way Bobbi tossed her train behind her, she was out for blood, and what better way than to leave Tommy stranded in the Colorado wilderness?

  »»•««

  “Asher, are you home or is it a burglar?” Mike’s voice drifted from the leather couch the moment Asher unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Fun tip, burglars wouldn’t answer. Thanks for picking me up from the airport, by the way,” he returned, still perturbed his agent couldn’t swing a last-minute car. Instead, Asher waited by the luggage claim for an hour until Mike called him back. It was annoying, but the man had a life too. Who knew?

  “Sorry. I got hung up in a meeting,” Mike came clean as he stood. A half-empty beer cradled in a green koozie rested in his left hand. “I thought I would meet you back at your place to celebrate.”

  Asher dropped his bag with a thud, not in the mood for any company. “And what are we celebrating now, Mikey?”

  “Your success. The internet is still abuzz with A.J. Whit news. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I sent out the mention on Twitter. It’s amazing!” The publicist, dressed to the nines, took a gulp of beer and pointed his finger. “Oh, and every publisher wants you now. Even your old one is begging you to come back. I told them to screw off, but you can look at the contract they sent if you want.”

  “I want Brecon,” Asher insisted, picking up the mail accumulate
d over his absence. Nothing important stood out to him, so he chucked it back on the table, letters fluttering.

  “Brecon called too. They still want to meet with you.” Mike walked into the kitchen and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Do you want me to get a certain editor?”

  Turning on his toes, Asher glared at him. “Then you know who she is?”

  Mike opened the refrigerator and perused the solitary content: beer. “I figured it out. What with you getting all weird when we talked about her, I assumed it was the same girl.” He cracked open a new bottle. “She’s stunning, Ash.”

  “Does the media know yet?” All he was worried about was her safety. If the magazines and internet found out her name or job title, they would swarm to her. She deserved better.

  “Nah, I’m keeping the lid screwed on tight.” He glanced at Asher’s disheveled clothes. “Unless, you want me to open Pandora’s Box? You look like you’ve had a rough week.”

  The apartment seemed small all of a sudden. It didn’t feel open at all. Not like where he had spent the last four days. That was wide open space. This was a tissue box smacked between other boxes. Cramped and cold. It was New York City and Asher hated it for a moment.

  “Hell no! I want you to do everything to keep her name out of the press. Mina doesn’t need to deal with my havoc. She has her own life to run.”

  Dropping into the couch, he stared at the Silver Star encased and mounted on the wall. Thanks to the lady who cleaned his apartment, not a speck of dust lined the small box. The reason behind the Star seemed like it was becoming a distant memory. He couldn’t let the past clutter his future, yet he still demanded it occupy his mind. Rubbing his chest, Asher willed himself to remember the horror. If he kept the loss of his friends fresh, he wouldn’t have time to think about the latest tragedy.

  “Mina? I thought her name was Jessie.”

  “It is. I call her Mina.” He let out a breath. “I called her Mina to annoy her for the most part, but it grew on me.” The image of Jessie’s scrunched nose when he first said the nickname a select few used made the ache in his heart double.

  Had he been paying attention, Asher would’ve noticed the disbelieving expression scribbled on Mike’s face. He was too enraptured with the television at the moment. Missing several games midseason was unusual for him. He was in dire needed of a distraction to stifle his desire to all but stalk Jessie. She’s in Colorado at a wedding. One he should have stopped.

  The pending wedding made him remember the event was set for today. He could see Tommy’s smug face now, the son of a bitch, when Asher failed to attend. The sudden urge to pummel someone broke into his thoughts.

  Mike’s voice interrupted the mental beat down of Tommy he was envisioning. “Asher, we’ve known each other long enough for me to speak freely, right?”

  Asher offered him a sideways eye roll. “Sure.”

  “Then you won’t mind when I tell you to get off your ass and win the girl back.”

  Mike had a way with words. Asher always thought so, but he was a bit biased. “It’s not that easy. She hates my guts. I need to lay low for a while until she cools down then maybe try a thing or two.”

  His ill-conceived idea of somehow wooing her had fallen like a card house during the flight home. She was too smart to being swayed by a cute rendition of Coldplay’s “Yellow”, but he wasn’t banking on it either. He was more creative than a serenade. Well, he thought so at least.

  Mike gave him a quick shrug of his shoulders. “All right, I see how this is going to play out. I’ll get you a meeting with the head honchos at Brecon.”

  “What, why?” Asher asked, flipping through channels. Nothing looked entertaining.

  “Because if you don’t focus on something other than your woman woes, you’ll sink into a pool of nachos and cookies.” Mike shook his head. “You’re too much of a hunk for me to let you get fat.”

  “But I like nachos,” Asher shot back with a grin. “And you don’t want me fat so I sell more books.”

  “Guilty as charged. Take me away, officer,” joked Mike, raising his beer bottle in the air. “We will come up with a plan. A horrible yet seductive plan to blow her dress up.”

  Feeling heartened for the first time since leaving Colorado, Asher leaned forward in his seat. He was lucky to have a friend like Mike. The man may be a slime ball in certain facets, but he was on Asher’s side no matter the circumstances. “All right, Mikey, what do you have up your sleeve?”

  Mike finished his beer and then rubbed his hands together like an old-time villain. “How do you feel about a new kind of book? One which leaves readers breathless with anticipation.”

  “Go on,” Asher encouraged, jutting his chin toward the mastermind. He would need all the help he could get to disassemble Jessie’s hardened façade.

  »»•««

  Spiraling whipped cream on the top of a caramel mocha latte, Asher sighed at his mundane occupancy. He returned to the coffee shop but for minimal shifts until the new barista was trained. Leaving the shop high and dry wasn’t his style. He could never do such a thing to anyone.

  Asher delivered the piping cup to its recipient then wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. He hadn’t tried to contact Jessie since his arrival home. She needed space to sort the truth out, and he needed time to think of something spectacular. Though he and Mike came up with a whizz-bang plan, it was contingent upon Jessie’s stubbornness. The bell above the door chimed. And a little assistance from Jessie’s right-hand woman.

  He watched the medium-height blonde approach the counter and order a dark roast coffee along with a blueberry scone. “It’s her.”

  He ran his anxious hands over his apron as she ordered. Finding Jessie’s assistant hadn’t been too difficult. Not when Mike used his agent skills to discover Brecon’s beauty queen. From there, it had been up to Asher to convince the bombshell to talk to him about her boss. Though reluctant, she agreed to a meeting, but on the agreement of signing her book.

  His heart thudded like he just finished a marathon when the woman draped in a cheery red pencil skirt and lace blouse approached his location. Her blonde hair shone like cut wheat and her attentive blue eyes bespoke candor.

  Bridget drummed her manicured fingers on the countertop and gave him a bright smile. “My, my, I didn’t think it was possible for A.J. Whit to look better in person.”

  Asher coughed a chuckle and held up the fresh cup of coffee. “I’m surprised you recognized me. You’re the first one from this shop.”

  Snatching the blueberry scone off her plate, Bridget jerked her head. “Come on, A.J., I think we need to chat.”

  Eager to get down to business, Asher trailed Bridget to a cozy table near the window. The sun shone through the blinds, scattering a perfect silhouette on them. Once seated, he began. “Thanks for meeting me. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  Bridget took a bite of the scone and her red lipstick smudged. “I was curious about you.” She dapped her lips with a napkin and spread her hands on the table. “I’ve known Jess for five odd years and you are the first and only guy she has ever talked about.”

  The sudden awareness smacked Asher’s gut. “She talked about me?”

  “Well, when you guys were in Colorado, she got ahold of me.” Bridget took a sip of the black coffee. “She wanted to know more about you, Asher. Our call disconnected before I could tell her what I found out.”

  Asher scratched his head in frustration. “I was going to tell her everything, but her family kind of screwed it up.”

  “Sounds like the Davis clan,” Bridget said with a giggle.

  They sat in silence while Asher digested Jessie’s trust was lost to his lucid acts. He sighed once the air settled. “I need your help, Bridget. Mina won’t talk to me.” Bridget raised her finger to speak, but he continued. “And no, I haven’t tried, but she won’t answer. I already know this.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, she wouldn’t.” The blonde took another nibble o
f blueberry. “You cut her deep. I can’t think of a scenario involving a wholly healed Jessie so you can prove you have feelings for her.”

  “I don’t just have feelings for her. I love her.”

  Bridget choked on the sip of coffee in her mouth. Once she cleared her throat, she eyed him with vigilance. “You love her?”

  Asher handed her another napkin. “More than I’ve loved anyone.”

  “Whoa,” breathed Bridget with a contented grin. “Then you must win her back. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’m your girl.”

  Leaning his elbows on the table, Asher felt his heart lighten for the first time since his fallout with Jessie. He would prove to Jessie just how much he was worth her time. “I’m glad you said so.” He grinned. “I have a plan, but I need some help.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Smiling faces stared back at Jessie, each one unique and happy. The same thing happened when she flipped to the next photo. The pattern repeated until she closed her laptop and pushed it out of her reach. Bobbi’s failed attempt at a wedding didn’t end in catastrophe as she expected.

  After Bobbi confronted Tommy, he wouldn’t admit his sins. Not until their Grandma Jane came running into the room with Grandpa’s old shotgun.

  Jessie smirked at the sight of her grandma wielding the gun like a madwoman. Her grandma’s antics worked and none of Tommy’s family called human services to report a lunatic. Tommy confessed his guilt, blaming Jessie for his wayward acts.

  “You wish,” she’d scoffed, cracking her neck. It was an unhealthy habit, but she did it anyhow. Tommy’s devious snapshot acquittal failed to surface when he bragged about how much money he received for sending the photo of Asher and Jessie to a gossip blog.

  Despite the rocky start to Bobbi’s wedding day, the Davis troop marched through the day. And after quick calls to the travel agent, they flew to Cancun for the honeymoon. Jessie’s eyes drifted to her tanned skin. The Mexican sun did wonders for her attitude. She and Bobbi were in the same boat, so of course, they were given the honeymoon suite. They didn’t move from the heart-shaped bed for the first two days. The girls stayed hidden beneath the covers while they watched raunchy chick flicks and ate more chocolate than the Aztecs would deem appropriate.