Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  Chapter 32

  Rae

  By the time we’d made it out of the shower, Gavin had been knocking on the door, trying to get Sawyer to leave with him and Emberly to do a check of Brewed and the town for damage while Faith went to get their puppy from her parents’ house.

  Since I’d been wrapped in a towel with dripping-wet hair and trembling legs from the countless orgasms Sawyer had forced from me, he’d left me with a kiss and a wicked smirk so I could get ready for brunch—something nearly everyone did once the night on the ranch was over, as I’d been told when he was leaving.

  I was wearing another one of his shirts, but putting on my air-dried jeans and undergarments from the night before made me feel gross and uncomfortable all over again. My saving grace was that I hadn’t put on makeup before we’d left for the ranch, so at least I didn’t have to worry about whatever smudged mess would’ve made it through the night.

  I glanced over to where I’d left my phone on the bed as it began ringing, and hurried to finish putting on my shoes before snatching it up, my smile falling when it wasn’t Sawyer.

  I only took a second to register the unknown number calling from the city I’d recently moved from before deciding to answer. It wouldn’t be the first time an unknown number called after I’d moved away.

  New tenants of the place I’d been renting out, wanting recommendations on a cleaning service—they’d somehow gotten my number even though that was super creepy and beyond an invasion of privacy. Yet, it happened.

  The new owner of the car I’d sold to a dealership, wondering about my after-market rims—I’d conjured all kinds of disturbing, stalker stories about him in my head for about a week.

  My old coffee shop wondering if I’d died since I stopped coming in—again, how the hell they got my number, I never knew.

  Google was creepy.

  Yet, I kept answering. Fuel for my active imagination, I assumed.

  “Hello?” I said a little breathlessly as I dropped to the bed.

  “Rae.” My name was a prayer. Relief. Pain.

  Everything inside me froze as I silently cursed myself for forgetting the messages from the night before. For not remembering to block the number. For not thinking to create a contact so I would know.

  “Jack.” I wet my lips, my head shaking in fast jerks as I wished for this call to go away. “Jack, you shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry, I have—”

  “Wait,” he said loudly, hurrying over me. “Wait, just talk to me. Give me a few minutes, Rae, please. You owe me that.”

  My eyelids slipped shut on the last part, on the grief that wrapped around the words.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I said softly, gently. “You need to let this go—let me go.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know how you expected me to. You’re it for me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I know the idea of love and marriage and a future with one person scares you. I know,” he said adamantly, but it sounded like he was trying to convince us both of something else. After a few seconds, he voiced what that something else was. “But we’re good together . . . we’re effortless.”

  “Effortless.” A strained breath climbed from my throat. “If it felt effortless to you, then it’s because there were no expectations, no strings—we just were.”

  “No strings?” Sorrow wove through his incredulous tone and poured through the phone. “Rae, we were together for seven months. You had a drawer at my place . . . space in my bathroom.”

  “For convenience on the nights I stayed.”

  “That’s what girlfriends do!” he said with a sharp laugh, but nothing about the conversation or his voice held any humor.

  “I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

  There was a long, heavy pause before he asked, “What did you think we were?”

  “I told you, we just were. We went on some dates, but it was almost always because we were just hungry right then. People do that all the time without any kind of label—friends do that. And before you say it because I know it’s coming, I know there wasn’t anyone else for me during that time, but that’s only because I don’t believe in sleeping with multiple people at the same time. That has nothing to do with a status or label or anything.”

  “No. No,” he said in disbelief, his voice raising with worry and dread as he continued. “No, you’re saying this because I scared you. You’re saying this because I pushed us too fast.”

  I struggled to swallow past the knot in my throat, hating that I had to do this to him again. “Jack, I’m not.” The words were hushed, but the answering silence felt so loud. “I’m sorry. I thought we were on the same page. I thought we were both fine just being casual.”

  When he spoke again, his words were weighed down. “There was nothing casual about us. I love you.”

  My physical reaction to those words was nearly painful.

  My body jerked as if someone had electrocuted me. The next breath I managed to expel seemed to wrench from my soul. Everything locked up so tightly as if just hearing those three words had me ready to run even though Jack was states away.

  “You didn’t even utter those words—or hint that you felt them—until you proposed. And I told you not to fall in love with me,” I said, voice trembling from the strength it took to stay in place.

  “Because I knew they scared you!” he shouted, exploding in his pain and passion and fear. “I know you, Rae, I knew what those words would do. I saw the way you reacted when I told you my brother got engaged—the way you got quiet when I said that was what I wanted someday.”

  “You noticed how I reacted and you still—” I blew out a frustrated breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Someday, Jack. Not a month later. Not with me.”

  He loosed a ragged sigh, his fight wavering with his next plea. “Just come back, Rae. Come back, and we’ll talk. We’ll take things slower. We won’t even talk about getting married right now.”

  A harsh breath burst from me, sounding slightly frantic. As it had at the beginning of the call, my head began shaking in quick jerks.

  Trying to force his words away, trying to deny everything he’d said, trying to physically claim how wrong he was.

  “If you knew me, you would’ve known not to propose,” I said through tightly clenched teeth. “You would know that marriage isn’t in my future at all. You would’ve known keeping that you were in love with me from me was a bad idea and that I meant it when I told you not to fall for me.”

  “Rae—”

  “But none of that is what’s stopping me from coming back there,” I continued. “I never wanted to hurt you, Jack. I was always honest with you about where I stood with us—it isn’t my fault you chose to ignore that. If you would’ve been upfront with me long ago, I could’ve spared you this pain.”

  “Rae, please . . .”

  I jumped when my name sounded through the house with a voice that seemed to move through me. Calming me and invigorating me in an addicting way . . .

  And sending a shock of guilt I wasn’t sure I deserved to feel as Jack’s voice continued in my ear.

  “Please, just . . . damn it. Come back and give me another chance,” he begged. “We’re meant to be together, we’ll figure this—”

  “I have to go,” I said on a whispered rush and hung up before he could protest.

  I’d ended the call and silenced my phone just as Sawyer rounded the doorway with a lazy smile that abruptly fell when he saw me.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said too brightly and knew from the way his eyebrows rose that it came across that way. “Yeah, of course. Worried about what you might’ve seen.”

  He studied me for a moment before shrugging, rubbing at the back of his neck as he did. “Uh, nothing . . . nothing much. The one that touched down outside the ranch took a path away from it. There’s some fence damage, but that’s about it. A few downed trees and stuff in town, nothing major.”

  “Good. Good, I’m gl
ad.”

  Sawyer seemed to nod absentmindedly before he tilted his head. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” I said slower, calmer. “I was just worried about what would happen.”

  He offered me a teasing grin and held out a hand for me. “Just a storm, Rae.”

  “Right,” I murmured as I let him help me up and lead me from the house.

  Just a storm.

  Just an unyielding ex.

  Just a man I want in a way that I never should’ve allowed myself.

  Chapter 33

  Rae

  My gaze shifted, taking in the scene around us—everyone laughing and shouting to be heard over the other, eating food off each other’s plates, and switching seats to join in other conversations. It was all so chaotic and somehow perfect and had a smile lighting my face I couldn’t have contained if I tried.

  Sawyer’s nose trailed across my jaw before his lips followed the same pattern. “What was that?”

  I slowly turned my head so I could search his excited eyes, burrowing closer into his side as I did. “Hmm?”

  “That sound you made.” He must have seen my confusion, because he pressed a swift kiss to my nose and explained, “You made a sound like you were . . . I don’t know, content, or something.”

  “Just now?” When he nodded, I made a face like I didn’t know what I’d done, but I gestured to the people surrounding us. “I was just watching everyone. This is nice—it’s fun.”

  Instead of looking to the group of people, he just stared at me, his expression changing into something that made my heart take off at a thunderous pace. “It’s better with you here,” he said softly before glancing away.

  And I was thankful for the reprieve without his watchful stare on me.

  For the time to breathe and absorb his words without worrying I would hurt him somehow.

  After a moment, I rested my head on his shoulder, facing the beautiful chaos and watching it unfold.

  We were in the bar section of Brewed. It was the one day out of the year they served breakfast foods and didn’t open to the public until late afternoon—only catering to those who had spent the night on the ranch. Emberly said they’d been doing it since Beau had started the all-nighters.

  It was loud and packed with those who had been on the ranch. Every one of them looking about as rough as I felt—hair and makeup a mess, still wearing their clothes from the night before. It looked like a massive walk-of-shame meetup filled with laughter and amazing food.

  I’d had my coffee, I hadn’t left Sawyer’s side since we’d gotten there, and Hailey and her creepy bots were on the opposite side of the room.

  I was content.

  And it was as wonderful as it was unsettling.

  “There it is again,” he murmured into my ear, nipping playfully at the sensitive spot on my neck when a soft laugh left me.

  “I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Or you’re just trying to make me think I am,” he shot back smoothly.

  I tilted my head back to whisper, “We can always test that. Take me back to bed and let’s see what kind of sounds I make.”

  A guttural groan scraped up his throat as his forehead dropped to mine. “Drive me crazy.”

  “Rae!” someone called out from across the table, but I was too busy focusing on Sawyer and waiting for him to decide if he would take me up on my offer or not. “You didn’t tell me you were famous.”

  Wait . . . what?

  I jerked my head away from Sawyer’s to look at where Faith was excitedly waiting for my response. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, she is,” Sawyer argued, earning an eye roll from me.

  “Except I’m not,” I maintained, my tone firm, but gentle enough not to come across as rude.

  Faith did an excited little bounce in her seat, bumping Gavin as she did. “My cousin is absolutely freaking out right now because I’m with you. She loves you.”

  The smile that automatically started creeping across my face froze, as did the rest of my body, as I looked to where her lit-up phone rested on the table.

  When I spoke again, my voice was only a whisper. “What?”

  “My cousin—apparently she’s a huge fan,” she began, but I hurried to stop her.

  “How does she know you’re with me?” I asked, leaning over the table so my voice wouldn’t carry.

  “From my post,” she said, gesturing to her phone, like nothing could possibly be wrong with those three words.

  I felt like I was at once on fire and submerged in ice.

  “Oh God,” I mumbled, then hurried to get my phone out of my bag as Faith continued telling me everything her cousin had already said.

  No, no, no.

  My hands trembled and thumbs fumbled through trying to unlock my phone, ignoring the four text notifications and two missed calls from Jack. And the countless messages from my reader girls, including Megan, as I opened up one of the many possible social media apps Faith could’ve been talking about.

  No.

  “Rae,” Sawyer said from beside me, tone hard and laced with concern.

  “No,” I breathed out when Faith’s post from an hour before loaded on my screen, tagging a dozen of us at Brewed, with a few pictures included.

  In one of the pictures, Sawyer and I were the focus . . . not paying attention to the camera and so obviously something. It had been from before breakfast was served. We’d just gotten our coffee and I’d been tucked close to his side, our heads tilted so close they were touching as we talked.

  And it was on social media.

  “Oh God, oh God . . .”

  “Rae, what is going on?” Sawyer begged, reaching for my phone and jerking back when I snatched it from his grasp, pressing it close to my stomach.

  “Take it down,” I said to Faith, my plea filled with panic. “Please take it down.”

  Faith’s expression fell into a mixture of confusion and worry. Gavin looked from me to Sawyer to his fiancée, as if waiting for something to happen.

  “Rae,” Sawyer began again, but I hurried to say, “Faith, please take it down.”

  She blinked rapidly, her head shaking. “I don’t—I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

  “I can’t be on this post. I can’t be tagged here—anywhere. I can’t have this picture online,” I nearly yelled. “Please take it down.”

  Faith dropped her phone in her hurried attempt to pick it up, then scooped it up again, seeming to stumble through the actions as badly as I had been. “Okay, it’s done.” Her head jerked up, sorrow etched all over her face. “Rae, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “No, I’m . . . I’m sorry,” I said through my adrenaline-filled shuddering. I clutched my phone tightly to me, not knowing how to explain or apologize. My jaw trembled and throat tightened with emotion as I pushed my chair back. “Faith, I’m so sorry.”

  I hurried away from the table and out of the bar section, needing to get away from the noise and chaos I’d just found so comforting, and stumbled into the women’s bathroom attached to the coffee shop section of Brewed.

  A sharp sob escaped my chest as I locked the door behind me and settled against it, then hurried through my social media to delete the posts on my page and in my reader group from people excitedly asking who the guy was in the picture. Wanting to know what I was doing in Texas and how long I would be there. The screenshots of the post that I was tagged in where they asked their friends if they’d seen that I was near them.

  Once I was sure I’d deleted what I could, I cleared the missed calls from Jack and looked at his messages.

  The first was a screenshot.

  Of course it was.

  Unknown: Rae.

  Unknown: Rae . . . what the fuck.

  Unknown: My brother just sent this. Tell me this is old.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed as I hurried back to my social media accounts and searched for Jack’s brother and friends, blocking them as well and silently cursing myself for somehow for
getting that crucial step.

  This is why I’d never put my personal life on social media.

  Because of these kinds of situations.

  This is why.

  This is why.

  This is why.

  “Fuck,” I snapped, shoving away from the door and over to the sinks.

  I let the cool water run over my shaking hands and splashed some on my arms, trying to steady my breathing before turning off the faucet and reaching for a towel.

  I didn’t glance at the mirror. I didn’t want to see my reflection then. I could feel the embarrassment and anxiousness bleeding from me, leaving a frantic-looking girl in their place.

  “Jesus, Jack,” I whispered when I grabbed my ringing phone from my pocket and saw his new number lighting up my screen as I pulled on the door to leave.

  A startled gasp betrayed my shock and regret and unwarranted guilt when I saw the man waiting for me in the hall.

  Arms folded over his chest, jaw ground so tight his dimples peeked through, so handsome it hurt. But he was leaning against the wall as if he had all the time in the world, and watching me with those mesmerizing eyes as if he knew every one of my secrets.

  “Sawyer,” I said on a breath as I silenced the call and turned off my phone without ever looking at the screen again.

  His head angled ever-so-slightly to the side. “Faith’s crying, not that that means much because she literally cries about everything lately. But she’s freaking out, afraid she did something she wasn’t supposed to . . .”—he leaned closer, but kept his back pressed to the wall, his eyes narrowing—“by posting a damn picture.”

  “I can’t—I’m sorry.” I pressed a hand to my chest, struggling to keep myself composed when I knew I’d made this so much worse than it needed to be—knew I’d made a scene in front of his friends. I was sure if I hadn’t had the phone call from Jack just an hour before, I wouldn’t have. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer, but I can’t have that happen.”

  “Right . . . wanna tell me why?”