Love to Hate You: a Hope Valley novel

by Prince, Jessica

  I looked to my aunt in shock. “When did you plan a cookout?”

  “Just now,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulder. “One thing you’ll learn from me, sweets; the best parties you’ll ever attend are the ones that form outta thin air.”

  “Seriously, Sylvia, you don’t need to do that.”

  “Shush, dearie. It’s already done.” She looked back to Eden and Nona. “You’ll pass word along, yeah? Any and all are welcome. I only require each guest to bring a dish.”

  “We’re on it,” Nona assured her before turning to me. “Your aunt throws the best parties. Last time, she started an impromptu yoga class. There had to have been like, forty people in her back yard, following along.”

  “Oh. And remember the one where she accidentally set out her special brownies instead of the regular ones? There were at least ten people walking around high as kites before she realized and stashed the rest away.”

  Both women laughed as I rolled my lips between my teeth to hide my smile. Yoga and pot brownies . . . That was so Sylvia.

  Apparently Nona ran the one and only salon in town—and it was the best salon in the state to hear my aunt tell it—and had a standing order once a week for an arrangement she kept at the front desk. Before they left they insisted on exchanging numbers so they could let me know when the next girls’ night was happening.

  I wasn’t used to women being so upfront and friendly. The few friends I had back in Richmond—including Krista—had spent most of their time bad-mouthing the others when they weren’t around. I wasn’t naïve enough to think they hadn’t said nasty things about me when I wasn’t there, and I was sure they were having a field day now that Krista had stepped into my former life with no problem at all. But what little I knew of these two Hope Valley women, I liked. Sylvia was a fantastic judge of character, so if she said they were good people, they were good people. And I liked the idea of a girls’ night, especially if it was with women who weren’t backstabbing gossips who’d known my husband was screwing around and had kept it from me the entire time.

  “Well,” my aunt said on a sigh as the door closed behind Nona and Eden, “I’d say that went over just fine, wouldn’t you? Those ladies are good eggs. You’ll fit right in.”

  I looked at her and cocked a brow. “So, in the span of a few minutes, you’ve already scheduled a party and worked your magic to find me new friends?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “You’re a little crazy,” I said on a giggle. “You know that, right.”

  “Of course I do,” she declared, shooting me a sly wink. “And isn’t it so much fun?”

  It absolutely was.

  * * *

  After two weeks in our new home, everything had been going great . . . with one glaring exception. It was Friday afternoon, and Alex was scheduled to arrive at any second to pick Ivy up for his weekend visit.

  This would be my first full weekend in Hope Valley without my baby girl, and I’d been a walking bundle of anxiety all day long, dreading the moment I had to hand her over.

  The doorbell rang, followed less than a second later by Ivy’s high-pitched shriek. “Daddy’s here!” she screamed as her little feet pattered down the hall. “Mommy! Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”

  I managed to paste a smile on my face even though my heart was shriveling like old fruit. “You think so, love bug?”

  She started hopping in place. Since it was just the two of us most of the time now, I’d stopped dressing her like all the other kids in our circle of friends back in Richmond and let her pick her own clothes. Today she was wearing a pair of tiny pink Converse sneakers, black jeans with bright pink, yellow, and purple daisies embroidered around the cuffs that went all the way up to her knees, and a matching pink shirt. Her long, curly red hair was hanging loose and wild down to the small of her back. She looked absolutely adorable, and it was taking everything I had not to burst into tears.

  “Yeah, Mommy. I know it’s him! It’s gots to be.”

  “Well then why don’t we open the door and see?”

  “Okay, yeah! Do it now!”

  I gave her one last grin before turning to the door and schooling my features in preparation for facing my ex-husband. Taking a fortifying breath, I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

  Alex looked the same as he always did, and I couldn’t help but wonder when seeing him would finally stop feeling like a punch to the stomach. His dirty-blond hair was parted at the side like he always wore it, brushed up and back from his forehead. He was still in his suit from work, but the tie and jacket had been discarded, the top button at his collar undone, and the sleeves cuffed. I used to love it when he came home looking like that, still sexy in his suit but a little mussed in a way that made him even hotter. Now I was comparing everything about him to Micah, a man I was never going to see again.

  “Hey there, my little monkey.” He squatted low and opened his arms, picking Ivy up and tossing her in the air until she squealed.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said once he settled her onto his hip. “Can we gets ice cream for supper?” she asked with her adorable little toddler voice that turned all her Rs into Ws.

  “Not for supper. But maybe dessert,” he added at the end when she began to pout, making her smile big once again.

  “Yay!”

  While he gave her a tickle, I let my eyes drift, unable to watch the interchange between them without hurting. My gaze cast to the sleek red Mercedes parked at the curb, then to the brunette sitting in the passenger seat, wearing huge sunglasses like they could actually hide her identity.

  I had to bite the corner of my cheek to keep from making a nasty comment about him bringing his former mistress to my house.

  Once they were done playing around, he finally turned his attention to me. “Hey, Hayden,” he said with a shadow of a smile as his eyes swept over me. “You look good.” I was still in the same clothes I’d worn to Divine Flora: a pair of skinny jeans that were frayed at the ankles and had artful rips in the knees and thighs, and a V-neck camo tee in pale pinks and grays that I had knotted at my waist. It was one of the outfits I’d bought when I purged my closet of all the clothes from my former life.

  I’d kicked off the super cute gray wedges I’d worn with the ensemble when I got home earlier, but fortunately the at-home pedicure I’d given myself a few nights back had held up, and my dark purple toe nails still looked good.

  I thought I looked good, and I’d felt good all day long, but the last thing I was going to do was thank him for the compliment, especially when he’d brought her to my home.

  I bent down and grabbed Ivy’s pink unicorn duffle bag from the upholstered bench just inside the door and passed it to him. “Everything she needs for the weekend’s in there, so you’re all set.”

  He took the bag, but instead of saying his goodbyes like I’d expected, he placed Ivy on her feet and said, “Hey, monkey, why don’t you let Krista get you all buckled up in your booster, huh? I need to talk to your mommy for a second.”

  My jaw ticked and my hands clenched at the thought of that woman coming anywhere near my child. However, as much as I hated her—and I hated her so damn much—she was going to be my daughter’s stepmom, so I had to shove my animosity aside in order to make the best of the situation for Ivy’s sake.

  I bent down and pulled her into a tight hug, then peppered her face with kisses. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy, love bug. Be good, okay? I’ll see you in a couple days.”

  “I’ll be super good, Mommy. And love you too!”

  I got one last squeeze before she took off toward the car, smiling and waving at the woman who’d just stepped out of the passenger side and was in the process of opening the back door.

  Alex cleared his throat, drawing my focus back to him as he reached around to rub the back of his neck in discomfort. “Look, I’m sorry about her being here. I didn’t plan on bringing her to pick up Ivy. She just kind of insisted—”

  I held my hand u
p and shook my head. “Stop, Alex. I really don’t care why she’s with you. All I’ll say is if this is going to be a recurring thing, you need to make sure she knows to stay in the car. I don’t want her stepping foot on my property. You got it?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” He let out another sigh as he looked past my shoulder into the house. “So, this is where you live now, huh? It seems . . . colorful.”

  “We aren’t doing this,” I broke in before he could say anything else. “We’re not gonna stand on my doorstep and make small talk like everything’s peachy.”

  “Hady Cakes,” he said in that soft voice he used to use every time he epically fucked up and wanted me to forgive him without an actual apology. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We can still be civil—”

  “First, don’t call me Hady Cakes. You lost the right to use that name the very first time you shoved your dick in my best friend. Second, this”—I waved my hand between us—“is exactly how you wanted it to be, so don’t give me that soft voice and those puppy dog eyes.”

  “Sweetheart, I still care about you. Divorce doesn’t change that.”

  “It absolutely does,” I stated emphatically. “Because I can say with complete and absolute certainty that I don’t give a single shit about you anymore. If it weren’t for our daughter, I’d be more than happy to never see you again.”

  He actually had the nerve to flinch like what I’d just said hurt him. “Hayden—” he started again, only this time we were interrupted by Krista.

  “Alex, honey? It’s getting late and it’s a long drive. We should get back on the road.”

  I looked back to the man I’d vowed to spend the rest of my life with and arched a single brow. “Looks like the boss is calling, Alex. Better get a move on.”

  “Hayden, we really need to—”

  “Alex!” Krista called again, this time louder and with a hint of frustration.

  “Call if there’s an emergency, or if Ivy just wants to talk to me. Other than that, there’s nothing else for us to say to each other.”

  With another sigh, Alex turned and started down the cobble path through the front garden that led to the street. I waited in my open doorway as the car started moving, raising my arm and returning Ivy’s wave until they were gone. Then I went inside, grabbed my shoes and purse, and booked it to the nearest store. I was going to need all their wine if I intended to get through this weekend.

  Chapter Six

  Micah

  I hadn’t slept more than two hours a night for the past three nights. The dull thud behind my temples had become a pulsing behind my eyeballs, and the florescent lights of the grocery store weren’t helping.

  Between the Darrin Callo case, our other cases, keeping an eye on that asshole Cormack, and trying to make sure Charlie didn’t get herself killed, Leo and I were stretched so goddamn thin I could barely see straight.

  As soon as I got off work, I headed for the grocery store. I moved through the aisles with single-minded determination toward the refrigerated section. I hadn’t had dinner—hell, I wasn’t sure I’d put more than coffee in my stomach all day—but I was at the point that I didn’t give a shit. I hit the beer cooler and grabbed a six-pack, letting out a sigh of relief. I planned to drink the whole thing, pass out, and, God willing, sleep for at least twelve hours.

  Slapping the fridge door closed, I spun on my boot and started toward the front of the store when I spotted a head of wild, wavy, light red hair perusing the wine selection a few yards away.

  “What the fuck?”

  She stretched an arm to grab a bottle on one of the higher shelves, pulling my focus to her stunning curves and a lush, round ass. An ass I recognized. One that had been burned on my brain.

  “What the fuck?” I repeated louder.

  She turned just then and did a stutter step on her sexy-as-fuck wedges, nearly dropping the wine bottle as soon as she saw me. Her familiar gem-blue eyes went wide with shock. “Micah?”

  “Hayden? What the fuck are you doin’ here?” The edges of my vision started to close in. “Jesus Christ, did you follow me here?”

  Her chin jerked back in shock. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t think that was a hard question to comprehend, Red. What are you doing here?” I repeated, asking the question slowly.

  The shock melted from her features and twisted into a furious scowl that I might have found adorable if I wasn’t currently worrying that the best sex of my life had been with a raving lunatic with stalker tendencies.

  “What’s it look like?” she asked in a snotty voice while lifting the bottle of red in her hand. “I’m buying wine.”

  “Not what I mean, and you know it. What are you doin’ in my town? How the hell did you even find me?”

  “Are you serious? I didn’t find you! This is purely coincidental. How would I even go about doing that when all I knew was your first name?”

  I threw my arms out at my sides, exhaustion and stress making me a tad bit irrational as I declared, “I don’t know! I don’t know how the hell stalkers think. Maybe you went through my wallet that night. Who the hell knows?”

  “Oh my God!” she cried indignantly. “I’m not stalking you, asshole. I live here.”

  “Bullshit,” I clipped, noticing from the corner of my eye that we’d gained the attention of the people around us with our loud argument. “I live here,” I stressed. “Lived here for years. I know every resident of this town, and you are . . . not . . . one of them.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared furiously. An expression so unlike all the ones I’d seen from her that night. “Well, apparently not all of them.”

  I mimicked her stance, narrowing my eyes in a glare. “Yeah? Since when?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she returned snidely before letting out a dramatic groan and lifting her hand to rake her fingers through all that long thick hair. In spite of being in the middle of a yelling match, watching all that silky red fall made my dick begin to thicken. “Should’ve known he was a jackass,” she grumbled to herself. “Jesus, I can really pick ’em.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her face scrunched up in rage. “Again, that’s none of your damn business. I’m so done with this,” she clipped. She whipped around and started to storm off before changing course and stomping back up to me, shoving a finger in my face. “And you know what? You need to get over yourself. You weren’t even that good!” she exclaimed loudly.

  I let out a caustic laugh. “Sure, Red. Keep tellin’ yourself that. I had the scratch marks all over my back for days to prove otherwise.”

  “Gah!” she shouted. “You’re such a prick!”

  “A prick who rocked your world!”

  “That night was the biggest mistake ever!”

  My mouth curled into a smug grin. “Yeah? Bet if I offered you’d jump at the chance for a repeat.”

  She threw daggers with her eyes. “Not on your life, asshole. I don’t sleep with men I hate.”

  “Wanna put money on that, stalker? Hate sex is the best kind there is. Give me a few minutes and I’ll prove it to you.”

  “Lick rust, Micah.” With that, she spun on her heel and stormed down the aisle, her round ass and curvy hips swaying enticingly as she disappeared around the corner, leaving me pissed and turned on at the same damn time.

  How the hell was that even possible?

  * * *

  Hayden

  I let out a deep, cleansing breath as I followed Sylvia into the next position, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop stewing over my encounter with that arrogant, narcissistic bastard from the night before.

  “You know, yoga’s supposed to help calm you. You’re as tangled up as that piece of gum you had to get outta Ivy’s hair last week. You wanna tell me what’s going on? Is it ’cause Ivy’s gone this weekend?”

  “No. I mean, yes—well, kind of . . . It’s not entirely that,” I admitted, letting out a deep sigh. “Of cours
e I hate not having her with me. I don’t think that feeling will ever go away.”

  “I wouldn’t imagine so. But if that’s not the crux of your issues this morning, what is?”

  Pursing my lips, I blew out a long, slow exhale as I adjusted on my mat to face Sylvia. She did the same, criss-crossing her legs and pulling her heels in much closer than I could pull mine. From so many years of yoga, my eighty-three-year-old great-aunt was about a million times more flexible than I was.

  “I met this guy in a bar back in Richmond one night a few weeks back . . .”

  Her blue eyes began to dance in the sunlight beaming down on us. “Ooh, this sounds promising.”

  I let out a laugh and shook my head. “Only you would think of admitting to a one-night stand as ‘promising.’”

  She scoffed in affront and exclaimed, “Well, of course I would. I see no harm whatsoever in a woman knowing her desires and doin’ something about seein’ they’re fulfilled. I’ll never wrap my head around these people who think it’s wrong for a woman to go in search of great sex while a man gets a pat on the back for the same damn thing. Speaking of, how was it?”

  “It was . . . incredible,” I confessed, my shoulders slumping in defeat. “Hands down, the best I’ve ever had. Like, nothing before that even compared. And I had all these really great memories of that night that I thought I’d be able to look back on whenever I wanted.”

  She lifted an inquisitive brow. “I don’t understand. Why do you sound so broken up about that?”

  “Because I am. In a cruel twist of fate—since that bitch hasn’t already gotten enough punches in—I discovered he lives here when I ran into him at the market last night.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, right? It means you can have as many repeats as you’d like.”

  “No! That’s just it. It’s a bad thing. As it turns out, the guy’s a massive dick. I mean, he actually accused me of stalking him. He thought I was in Hope Valley because I’d followed him or something.”