My heart drops to my stomach because that was what we did. For hours, we’d hide ourselves away and tell the universe what life we wanted because then it could be true.
And I denied that earlier.
“Then why did you want to marry her?”
“Because if I wasn’t going to marry the woman I loved, I might as well marry the one who wanted to marry me.”
The ache in my chest is throbbing. “That’s . . .”
“The truth, Jess. However, I was prepared to start my life because you weren’t coming back. You were flying around the world and enjoying life. I was in Willow Creek, living the life that was demanded of me. But Yvonne, she wasn’t horrible, not until we found out she was pregnant.”
I stay quiet, trying to keep my breathing silent, already knowing this part of the story ends with Grayson being a single father.
Grayson doesn’t say anything, so I reach out, resting my hand on his. “You don’t have to say anything more.”
His eyes close as he leans over, kissing the side of my head. “We all suffer with different forms of nightmares. Yours haunt your dreams, and mine lives in Paris.” He stands, his tall frame blocking the moonlight, but I can feel his gaze. “We both need to sleep.” He pulls back the covers, holding them up so I can get underneath.
I’m not sure what possesses me to obey his silent command, but I do. I get in, and he pulls the covers around me.
“Arms in or out?”
“In.” He starts to tuck the blankets in around me, starting at my legs and moving up until I’m in a cocoon. “Snug as a bug in a rug,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood.
He laughs. “I’ve learned that girls like to be held tight, and since it’s a bad idea to sleep in here, this is the next best thing.”
“Thank you again,” I say, my arms unable to move a smidge.
Grayson doesn’t acknowledge it. He just presses his lips to my forehead, and I wish it was my lips. “I mean it, if you need me, I’m right down the hall.”
And I’ll be forcing myself to stay right here.
Delia and I are walking arm and arm down the shoreline. I couldn’t be in the house anymore. Everyone was still asleep when I snuck into her room, waking her and forcing her to come with me.
“So, the nightmare was bad?”
I nod. “It was like I was on the outside of it though.”
“Is that normal?”
“Not even a little.”
“Okay, why do you think it was different then?”
“I kissed Grayson,” I admit.
Delia stops in her tracks, causing me to jerk back. “You what?”
I get her moving again as I fill her in on all the things that happened once she and Jack took off.
“As your best friend, I feel it’s my duty to tell you that you’re a goddamn idiot.”
“Well, thanks. I already knew this.”
Delia huffs and then pulls my arm to stop me. “No, not because you kissed him, but because the two of you are so damn obvious about what you feel for each other. Grayson stares at you all the damn time. When you move, it’s like he subconsciously tracks you, always watching, which is how it was when we were kids.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
I try to think back, but I don’t remember us being that intense.
“We spent two years apart,” I remind her. “We weren’t like that then.”
Delia laughs while shaking her head. “The hell you weren’t. If anything, it was even worse. You were in school, and he would come home every weekend. I would lose you because, if Gray was around, you most definitely were not. If he didn’t come home, you were at his dorm.”
“Yes, but we weren’t like . . . in sync.”
“You two were like magnets moving in unison. It was really amazing if I’m honest about it. It’s why so many people were in shock when you ended things. But the bigger question is, what does it mean for you now? You’re both older, lived a lot, and are single.”
With maturity and age also comes the need to be honest about it too. “I’m not going to play games with him.”
“I’m not telling you to.”
“How is it that I’m thirty-two years old, unmarried, no kids, and I am a fucking mess? Shouldn’t this have been how it was for me in my twenties?”
Delia laughs. “Well, I’m in the similar but slightly more pathetic boat as you. I’m thirty-two and have never been in a real relationship because I’m in love with a man who lives two states away and doesn’t even know I exist. Oh, and it’s been four years since I got laid.”
“You are pathetic.”
She nudges me as we both giggle. “How long has it been for you?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m a virgin again.”
“That long?”
I nod. “I was sort of dating the pilot, Elliot, a few years back. We would hook up when we were on a flight together, but it stopped when he realized I was never going to be more than casual. He recently moved in with his girlfriend, and she’s fantastic.”
We are about to reach the beach house when Delia’s hand grips my arm. “Jess, you and Gray . . . you were always what people hoped to find for themselves. You loved each other in a really raw and honest way. Do you think that being back here is some kind of sign? Could you give yourself the opportunity at love again?”
I look up at the deck in time to see Melia open the door and rush out, waving her hand at us. I lift mine and allow the unwanted images of a possible future to rush forward. Grayson, Amelia, and I vacationing here. Another comes of us at a school play or hiking to show her the lookout we made ours so many years ago.
He emerges, a coffee cup in his hand, staring at me with such intensity it’s as though he can see into my head.
But the truth comes back, reminding me that this is temporary. I don’t want to live here—ever. Grayson and I have ghosts that will never go away, and I’ve seen firsthand what those do to men.
It causes them to leave.
I look back at Delia, disappointed that wanting something so much doesn’t make it possible. “Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s not a matter of giving myself a chance to love again.” I watch him, hating the words. “It’s that I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back to my life in California. I want to fly again and travel. The real question is, could I give up everything for a chance? And the answer is . . . I don’t know.”
Chapter 12
Grayson
“Yaya, you have to meet my new friend Miss Jessica?”
I really wish the babysitter—also known as my mother—wouldn’t insist on dropping off Melia an hour before I have to leave the inn. It’s the busiest time of day for me, and my daughter does not understand what working means. Also, I haven’t told my mother about Jessica working here.
“Jessica? Who is she?”
“The new front desk manager,” I say.
Amelia grabs her hand. “She’s pretty and smart and she and Daddy were in love once.”
My mother’s face pales. “Jessica Walker?”
“The same one.”
Her lips part and she sucks in a breath. “Grayson, why? Why would you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Hire that girl,” she says through clenched teeth.
One day, I may see my parents as the kind, loving people who didn’t place value on material things that they once were, but today wasn’t going to be that day. My mother ignores my father’s indiscretions providing he keeps her dripping in diamonds and labels. After each of his “business trips,” he returns with some ridiculous gift that she fawns over and uses to prove to her friends how wonderful her marriage is.
It’s all fucking bullshit.
Dad fucks around. Mom drinks and pretends she’s the queen while my siblings and I watch in disgust.
The worst part of Eveline Parkerson is the way she looks down her nose at others.
“I don’t see why you care.”
<
br /> “Her mother was once my friend, that’s why.”
“Yes, she was, and then she wasn’t, why is that?”
Mom clears her throat and looks around. “Is her mother still working here as well?”
She knows damn well that Jessica’s mother doesn’t. She quit around the time Jessica left.
“I don’t see why that’s your concern. You don’t work here anymore either.”
Amelia tugs on her hand. “Yaya, can we go see?”
For all the faults my mother has, and there is a list the size of Texas, she’s a wonderful grandmother to Amelia. She watches her three times a week for me, not because she has to but because she loves her and she’s the only grandchild.
“I would love to, Princess, but Yaya needs to get to work.”
Melia’s eyes squint. “You work?”
“Well, I help a lot of organizations in Willow Creek, and in two days, we’re having a dinner to help with the youth organization that helps people get their lives together.” My mother’s eyes meet mine. “We know people who have needed that, don’t we?”
She means Jess. “Thank God for the people who can help those when they need it,” I reply.
My mother stands a bit taller, pushing her shoulders back. “Yes, well, I guess you get your charitable side from me.”
“There’s no charity in work.”
Not that my mother knows much about working. She helped my father design this place and bought everything to outfit it, but that’s where it ended. Being a trophy wife was my mother’s aspiration in life, and she wears it well.
Just then, Jessica emerges from the front office, carrying papers, and Amelia rushes to her. “Jessica!”
“Amelia.” She smiles at my little girl and then leans down to give her a hug. “You look very pretty today.”
“So do you! Yaya took me shopping today and bought me this pretty dress since Grandpa is away again.”
“Who is Yaya?” Jessica looks a little confused, but then spots my mother and rises. “Mrs. Parkerson.”
“Hello, Jessica. It’s been a very long time.”
Jess puts a smile on her face, but I can see it’s not real. “Yes, it has. It’s nice to see you again.”
My mother turns her face just slightly. “You’re the help now?”
“The what?”
“You work here, for my family.”
“Mother,” I say in a warning.
Jessica doesn’t seem fazed. “Yes, I just started, actually.”
“Funny how your mother started working here after her failed marriage, and now you’re here after your failed career.”
“You. I . . . that . . . crash.”
That one strikes exactly where it was meant to, and I won’t let Jessica be upset and stutter in front of her. “And you’re leaving,” I say, placing my hand on her back. “I know you have a very busy day and need to prepare to be charitable. I’m sure the effort you’ll need to do that is far too important to waste here.”
My mother pats my cheek. “I’ll let you be, and . . . not waste more time. Your father returns tomorrow from visiting Oliver, please come by around six. We’ll be having dinner and he needs to speak with you and Stella.”
There’s no getting out of this dinner. My father won’t accept any excuse and will show up at the worst time to make a scene if I choose not to attend. “Fine. I’ll have Melia.”
She leans down, kissing her on the cheek. “Be a good girl.”
“Always, Yaya.”
My mother turns, starting to walk away before stopping. “Jessica, do stop by the house sometime this week, I think I have a check for your mother’s wages she never collected.” She walks out, and I’ve never hated the woman more.
Jessica stands there, her eyes filled with pain and rage. My need to fix it is too great to stay away from her, which is what I’ve done the last three days.
I turn to Amelia. “Why don’t you head into the kitchen and grab some cookies and then find Auntie Stella and bring her some.”
Her face brightens. “Okay, Daddy!”
Once she’s gone, I turn to see Jessica still standing there. The look on her face makes me want to slay dragons. “Jess . . .”
She shakes her head, snapping out of the trance. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew it.”
“No, it’s absolutely not fine.”
“I should’ve—” She breathes deeply through her nose. “Said something cutting.”
I want to laugh because Jessica isn’t built that way. She never was, and being rude and mean-spirited has never been her thing. Not to mention, there is no one as good at being horrible as my mother.
“What would you have said?” I ask as I make my way closer to her.
“Something about her hair.”
I fight back a grin. “She would’ve hated that.”
The color is back in her face, and she lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know why she upsets me so much.”
“Because she’s a horrible person and has always treated you like shit.”
“How did you come from her? You, your brothers, and sister are all wonderful and kind.”
I rest against the wall so I’m close to her but not so close that she doesn’t have space. “My grandmother was a saint, and she was around when we were little.”
She worries her lower lip. “I remember you talking about her.”
It hurts to think of her. Love wasn’t a weapon with Nana. She was warm when my parents were cold and always pointed out the reasons they were great parents. “When my parents were first married, back when they could actually be tolerant of each other, Nana lived with us. She was my mother’s mother and loved her grandchildren more than anything. She would spend hours with each of us, trying to shield us from the hatred she saw coming from my parents and giving us a better model to follow.”
There were so many times my grandmother would just talk about love and acceptance. We were learning from her, even when we didn’t know it.
“She did a good job of it.”
I smile wistfully. “Yeah, I hope she’d be happy with how we turned out.”
Jessica walks toward me, her fingers grip my forearm. “She would.”
“I’m sorry that, once again, my mother acted that way to you.”
Jess steps back, her eyes turning away. “I don’t know why she still hates me. I’m not staying in town, and you and I aren’t . . .”
“No, we’re not.” I remind myself more than anything.
We’re nothing. We are just two old friends who loved each other once. Who also happened to kiss a few days ago, and I stayed up praying she would come to my bed.
“So, why she is worried? I have no idea.”
Because I’m crazy about you, and she knows it.
“Yeah, I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because Melia was so excited about you.”
Jessica’s demeanor softens. “At least she loves her.”
“That is the only reason she’s allowed near her. As much of a horrific mother as she was, she’s nothing like that with Amelia. She’s kind and loving. They bake cookies—well, the cook prepares the dough and they put them on the sheet, but the point is that my mother tries with her.”
“I guess that’s all you can ask for.”
The other desk attendant walks over. “Sorry I took a few extra minutes, I hope I’m not in trouble,” Marie says.
“Not at all,” Jessica says. “I was actually going back in the office to review this report. Thank you, Mr. Parkerson, for being so kind.”
I push off the wall with a nod. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Marie looks between us and then starts to work on the computer, ignoring the awkwardness. As Jess heads back to the office, I wonder if the problem with Jessica and me is that neither one of us ever asks for more.
Chapter 13
Jessica
I’m standing in front of the mirror, feeling awkward and stupid in this dress. I rub the satin material, trying to calm my
self.
“You look gorgeous,” Winnie says as she enters my room.
“I look like I’m going to prom.”
She laughs. “Well, it was your senior prom dress.”
How I ever let my sister talk me into this charity dinner is beyond me. All of it is for her organization, and her date bailed on her. Since she’s one of the main reasons the event is being held, she begged me to go with her. Also, after I told her about the run-in with Eveline, she was damn near insisting I don’t back down since she mentioned to her I was attending.
“Of all the dresses that Mom kept, why this one? I was so stupid my senior year.”
The cut is not ugly, but the color is hideous. It’s one of those things that, when I was young, I thought matching my eyes would be a great idea, but now, looking at it, not so much.
“Who knows why she kept any of our shit, but it works, and the fact that you fit into a dress you wore when you were seventeen makes me hate you just a little.”
I grin. “It’s very tight, and I will probably rip the seam if I breathe too deeply.”
“Good. You can hold your breath all night for all I care. I have two pairs of Spanx on and can’t breathe. It can be our theme.”
I look at my sister in an emerald-green gown. Her sweetheart neckline drops deep into her cleavage, and the dress hugs her curves before flaring out slightly at the bottom. If I had a dress like that, I would wear two pairs too.
“If I had known about the event, I could’ve found a dress that was like yours.”
Winnie shrugs. “I think you look amazing.” My sister gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go. We have schmoozing and checks to cash in our future.”
When we get downstairs, my mother looks up, and a wide smile crosses her face. “Well, if you two aren’t the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen . . .”
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