At this rate, her eyes would roll right out of her head.
“We’ve both been working hard chasing our dreams the past few years—she was finishing up her MBA while I’ve been pounding the political pavement here.”
Pain her though it did to admit it, aside from these embellished press video charades, Grant really was a fairly popular up-and-coming politician. At twenty-seven, he was already being groomed for a long career in politics, with rumors of him becoming one of Utah’s youngest senators on record no later than ten years from now.
Not that she was following his career. She absolutely wasn’t.
The same couldn’t be said for her dear father, however.
For three years, her father had been tireless in his efforts to convince her to ‘come to her senses’ and come home to marry Grant. Keep the political blood lines running strong in the family. Funnily enough, Congressman Hart had never once thought that either of his daughters would be the ones keeping those political blood lines going. Nope, he’d always hoped for a politician son-in-law.
When Stacey’s husband had turned out to be a dud where voters were concerned, Leila’s father had set his sights on Grant, turning a blind eye to all that Grant had done to betray Leila’s trust. The cheating, lying, getting recorded saying drunken, hurtful things about her to whatever blackmailing slut he’d been trying to bang that weekend.
Her father’s response to it all was a condescending, “Leila, you’re making too big a deal out of this. It’s not cheating when you two are simply dating in college. Grant was just sowing his wild oats quickly so he could be ready to settle down with you, sweetie. Can you blame him for having found the love of his life so early in life? He was simply trying to get it all out of his system before you two marry. So he could be faithful to you for the rest of your life.”
There were simply no words.
After trying to pitch that insulting load of crap on her, Leila wasn’t at all surprised to see the congressman in question standing off to the side looking proudly at Grant as the dolt continued with his verbal sewage, “Leila and I have remained close the past few years. I really wanted her to focus on her studies, and now her career.”
Ha!
There was a chance that exclamation had left the silence of her brain and had exploded past her lips, but she was too far sunken into the shock and disgust over this farce Grant was concocting for the press. After doing a politician chuckle that sounded identical to her father’s, Grant gave another doting look to the camera. “But it’s been getting harder for us to be apart. Leila’s flying home this weekend, and I have a few more surprises up my sleeve to spoil her while she’s back by my side.” A short chuckle was followed-up by a look of sickeningly-sweet adoration. “Yes, you all caught me, I said ‘more’ just now. I’ve already sent her a surprise out in Arizona to show her how overwhelmingly proud I am of this milestone in her career, and how much I want to continue to share and support her amazing achievements. Her amazingness, period.”
“Awww,” gushed a voice from behind Leila’s chair.
Leila almost jumped ten feet into the air, before scrabbling to shut off the offensive video.
“Leila, that is so sweet, so your mysterious boyfriend is a politician? You’re such a lucky girl to have a great guy like that.”
Her entire body convulsed in an epic shudder of revulsion.
Which everyone mistook for shivers of happiness, of course. Looking around, she saw at least a half-dozen folks smiling at her, and two more women with their hands to their chest nodding dreamily.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
While setting them straight was undoubtedly a top priority, at the moment, Leila wasn’t thinking about any of them. She scanned the room to find the one person she was thinking about.
It took her only a second to find the set of quietly intense hazel eyes she’d been seeing with increasing frequency whenever she closed her own eyes at night.
Right now, those eyes were hooded, closed-off and expressionless for the first time since they’d met. She quickly stood to head over to his office and clear everything up. But her path was blocked by a ginormous bouquet of several dozen lavender roses.
Her favorite.
Or at least that’s what Grant had kept telling her the entire time they’d dated.
Truth be told, flowers weren’t really her thing. Never had been. And the fact that Grant had used a bouquet very similar to this one to apologize for his cheating and all the humiliating comments he’d made behind her back just sealed the casket shut on her ever changing her mind about jumping on the floral band wagon.
Leaving the delivery boy standing there in utter shock, she simply shook her head at him to decline the delivery and bee-lined it over to Jackson’s office.
***
A tidal wave of jealousy was crashing over Jackson as he shut himself in his office.
That goddamn political asshat had gone on camera and hinted at proposing to Leila this weekend.
The fact that Leila had looked mad enough to spit nails over the video had only managed to calm Jackson down a fraction. He felt unhinged. The very idea of Leila marrying someone else was…unbearable.
“He’s my ex,” came a quiet voice from behind him.
Jackson spun around in surprise. He hadn’t even heard the door open.
“The video,” explained Leila. “That guy is my ex. As in past tense—thankfully and non-negotiably in my past.”
On some basic level, he’d of course figured that out. But it didn’t matter; his brain, his entire damn body had needed to hear her say those words. “So you’re not going home to Utah this weekend?”
“I am. But it’s for my sister’s birthday party. I leave Friday night and come back Sunday night.”
He kept his voice modulated as he asked the question burning his gut, “Will this ex of yours be there?”
She sighed with what sounded like undiluted disgust. “He’s a family friend so I’m sure he will be.”
Another rush of jealousy clobbered him as he continued roughly, quoting the video, “Where he plans on ‘spoiling’ you.”
Even the sentence sent every cell in his body into a violent rage, his entire being physically rebelling at the notion of another man spoiling Leila.
“I’m not Grant’s to spoil.”
Damn straight.
You’re mine to spoil.
It was the farthest thing from a warranted demand, or even a rational thought. But it felt so mind-wreckingly right that it took all his control not to demand she think and demand the same thing, too.
Knowing he’d never be able to hold back the words—not without her looking up at him with all those silent questions in her eyes that he was certain she didn’t even realize she was asking—he walked over to his desk drawer and pulled out a gift he’d gotten for Leila.
Wordlessly, he held it out to her.
…And felt the whole damn world tilt on its axis when she gifted him with the most expressively delighted smile he’d ever seen grace her lips.
“You got me a cigar?” A laugh that sounded born of pure wonder and joy tinkled out of her at the end of that question.
And just like that, all the jealousy boiling in his marrow faded away.
All that existed was her smile. Her laugh.
Her.
“You mentioned you’d enjoyed a few puffs at your buddies’ poker games in the past, but had never had the chance to light one up on your own…so I got you one.” A small smile escaped him. “I figured you could light it up at your fantasy football draft this summer and remember this past weekend—how hard you kicked ass at the NFL Draft.”
The smile disappeared. As did the laughter.
And in its place was a rainbow of emotions in colors he’d never seen before. “Jackson, it’s…perfect. It’s the most perfect gift anyone has ever given me.”
Though the sentence sounded like fodder, especially following the huge rose bouquet that had arrived at her desk not ten m
inutes ago, her tone of reverence defended the truth behind her words, said in a whisper that sounded like a shared secret for his ears only.
And the way she was looking at him right now...hell, that one look filled him with a fierce desire to give her a lifetime of perfect gifts. For every single day of her future, and every single day of her past where she should’ve been cherished in that way.
She rushed forward before he could make her promises he couldn’t keep. Hugging him quickly, she murmured softly, “You’re amazing, Jackson.”
“The feeling’s mutual, sunshine.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Have a good time with your family this weekend.”
An incredulous laugh shot out of her. “I doubt that’ll be possible, but I’ll try.”
With a stuttered breath, she just stood there a bit, her shoulders lifted as if she were trying to find the exact way to phrase her next thought.
He waited until she could find the words.
“It’s going to be…weird. To be there. And not here, I mean.” She chuckled and squeezed her eyes shut for a beat, the redundant clarification.
But for him, he got it. “I’m going to miss not having you around for a change.”
It was true. They’d been working six days a week, sometimes seven, for weeks now. She’d become a regular fixture in his life.
“I figured you’d be happy not to have to babysit me for a change.” Her voice dropped. As did her gaze. With an inquisitive peek out from under her lashes, she asked casually, “Do you have any big plans for this weekend? A hot date?”
He pinned her to the spot with a silent response meant to answer her question unequivocally.
But just in case she missed his meaning, he shook his head gently and repeated his earlier statement so she’d be clear on what exactly he’d be doing this weekend, “Like I said, I’m going to miss having you around.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
For Leila, Sunday morning brunch with her sister and mother felt a little like she was having an Alice in Wonderland tea party with the Queen of Fairytale Land and the Duchess of Bonkers.
They were both replaying that godawful video of Grant being a lying asshat at his political rally, gushing about how romantic it was. All the while, making extravagant plans for a wedding even though Leila was going blue in the face insisting the damn thing wasn’t going to happen.
As the two continued to talk as if she wasn’t even there, it hit her like an avalanche of wet cement. Whereas at one point in her life, she’d simply felt different from her sister and mother, now, not only did she feel like they had nothing in common, she felt...tired. Her mother and sister had never once tried to be remotely okay with the choices Leila had made for her life, the paths she’d traveled, the successes or the heartaches. All her life, Leila had done at least that for them. More than that, she’d loved them unconditionally.
But they’d never bothered, never even pretended to bother.
And now here they were trying to push her to marry a man who had hurt her countless times, plotted a future she didn’t want with her father behind her back with an utter disregard for her goals or feelings, and displayed on many an occasion, a complete lack of respect for all the things that were the most important to her.
Grant was, basically, a younger version of her father.
And she was tired.
Tired of smiling through the vast number of press photos at her sister’s birthday party wherein she’d had to watch her father ‘light up’ when he saw her, and do an impressive impression of a father having a joyous reunion with his momentarily noteworthy prodigal daughter.
Tired of trying to act like it didn’t bother her when her father dropped the act the very second the cameras were turned off.
Tired of letting her mother and sister treat her like their lives were so much better, and worthier than hers.
Tired of getting let down time and again from all the people she trusted to love her, and support her, and want to share in her life with her.
So tired was she, that when Grant showed up unannounced at the restaurant a few minutes later—camera crew in tow—Leila felt herself…snap.
Her narrowed gaze lazered on him as he walked up to their table.
“What are you doing here, Grant?”
He faltered for a second over her directness, but recovered with a syrupy smile. “You and I haven’t gotten a chance to spend time together this weekend, honey bear.”
She fought the urge not to throw up the tiny little finger sandwiches her mother had ordered for her so Leila could lose enough weight and—quote, unquote—not look so ‘curvy’ anymore.
“Grant, I’m here with my mother and sister. Please respect that.”
Her mother plucked the last teeny finger sandwich out of her fingers. “Leila, sweetie, your sister and I are fine here.”
“Yes,” agreed Stacey, bobbing her head emphatically. “You two go on and catch up.”
Traitors.
Before she could come up with another halfheartedly polite brushoff that he was undoubtedly going to ignore again, Grant already had his hand on her elbow, gently squeezing the way he used to whenever he’d usher her along when she wasn’t moving in the direction or speed that he wanted.
She’d always hated that.
But she stood and followed him. To end this ridiculousness once and for all.
When they were far enough away from the majority of the prying eyes, she stopped and yanked her elbow out of his grip. Looking him right in the eyes so he’d see she meant it with every fiber of her being, she hissed, “Grant, just stop this. All of it. You and I are never going to get back together. Get that through your thick skull.”
“Just give us a chance, honey bear. One chance. I’ve missed you so much.”
It wasn’t lost on her that while she loved it when Jackson called her by a pet name, when Grant did it, she felt her skin crawl. “Well, I’m sorry, but I haven’t missed you one bit. Breaking up with you was the best possible thing I could’ve done for my life back then.”
“Sweetie, is it because of that little incident your junior year? Because I’ve apologized for that over and over again.”
“Incidents—plural. You cheated on me with over a dozen women. That I know of. And not to mention the ‘incident’ where you called me everything under the sun from ugly to stupid all for the vile whims of an awful girl you were going down on at the time who ended up blackmailing you and then leaking the damn video anyway.”
“I know, and I will live with the pain of that for the rest of my life. Knowing that I hurt you. Honey bear, I am so sorry. I love you so much. And I completely understand your not wanting to forgive me just yet. But I’m willing to spend every day until I die making up for my mistakes, and earning back your love and trust.”
God, he was such a politician.
And apparently, a hard-of-hearing one. “Grant, I’m going to say this one more time. Please stop listening to that voice you have in your head—that undoubtedly sounds like my father’s—and just hear me. You and I are never going to happen. You just need to accept that and move on. There are countless women all around who would love to be with you and live the life you have planned out for your wife. They may not come with all the political promises my father does, but at least they won’t despise and pity you the way I do. This life you want, I will never, ever accept.”
For the first time in all their incessant back-and-forths on this, he looked…mystified. And lost. “But Leila, you and I belong together. We’re political royalty. There are plans underway for both our futures that exceed even your wildest imagination. How can you not want that?”
The man didn’t care one bit about what she thought, let alone what she imagined. Enough was enough. “Look, Grant. I don’t know what you and my father have been plotting but it ends here. I’ve tried to be polite about it, but that also ends here. If you continue to pursue me, I’ll stop being polite and get a restraining order. From this moment on, leave. Me. Alone.�
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She stormed back to her table, not caring about all the faces staring in shock at her. But when she got there, one glance at her mother and her sister’s expressions of disappointment and disapproval effectively cut the last tether in her life as she saw it to this world they existed in with her father and all the Grants they made excuses for. Leila had never really been a part of this world, but she’d wanted so much to be a part of this family.
She just wished they’d felt the same.
Cutting that final tether brought with it a surprising revelation—that this last tie had been rooted in her heart, not her DNA, held on by sheer hope instead of the feelings of obligation woven into her family genes. And that’s both what made the final cut so much worse, and yet profoundly freeing at the same time.
She gave both of them a quick hug. “I love you guys. I really do. I’m just a phone call away if you ever want to truly talk to me, as your sister, or your daughter, or a friend. You will always, always be welcome in my life, even if there isn’t room for me in yours.”
Then Leila turned around and again walked away from the roots to her past, and the life that wasn’t hers. While it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as her exit three years ago, this time, she was certain that it was permanent.
And for the first time that day, she found a true and content smile stretching across her face.
Three hours later, Leila was settling into the tiny seat of the tiny aircraft she’d exchanged her later ticket for. She didn’t want to wait another minute to return to her future, her life.
And during the short flight from Utah to Arizona, Leila’s thoughts were focused on one thing and one thing only.
Jackson.
As soon as she got off the plane, she quickly pulled out her phone and practically sprinted to the airport parking lot to get to the privacy of her car.
What she was planning to say to Jackson, she wasn’t sure.
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