Unstoppable Love: The Kelley Family Series

1. Ava

I didn’t want to be here. Heck, I never wanted to be here anymore. The Kelley Ranch wasn’t only where I spent most of my childhood, it was also where the best night of my life became my longest-running nightmare. Unless it was for things like this, Easter Sunday, where the Kelley family invited all their friends and family in town and threw a huge potluck supper celebration, I never stepped foot on their land.

I didn’t even go to the creek in the summertime with friends.

Cameron Kelley was a part of every single one of my greatest childhood memories.

That was until the night I threw myself at him, and the very next day when I slinked out of his bedroom, a bed I’d woken up and found myself in alone, after begging him to have sex with me, and boy did he, he’d scrubbed his face and didn’t once look my way. Instead, as he walked past me, he’d muttered something about how he was so drunk the night before he’d passed out and found himself waking up on the front porch.

He took my virginity. And then he forgot.

He had no clue he’d done it, but with what he’d taken, which had been fabulous—something so incredible and wonderful I hadn’t had another night like it or enjoyed it nearly as much—he’d also taken every good thing I remembered about him.

Because Cameron Kelley became the kind of guy his parents didn’t raise him to be, and that was that he became a big, huge, honkin’ jerk.

So yeah, I wasn’t all that thrilled to be walking up the gravel to his parents’ house. A house that had been painted in recent years and was no longer brown brick but white. A house I hadn’t been inside, always sticking to the deck and patio out back whenever we were there after that night. A house that still had that stupid front porch, which I glared at every time we walked by it.

And I was doing this, my long blonde hair plaited and braided in an intricate design I’d learned to do on YouTube, wearing a summer dress that had puffy shoulder sleeves, a thick brown belt at the waist, and flared at the hips with my cowboy boots. I was carrying cupcakes Mom and I spent all yesterday making, following her and Isaiah reluctantly, but with my back straight and every intention to not lose my cool in front of Cameron like I’d done so many times in the years since.

No. He’d made a fool out of me more than once in the years that had passed since that night.

I wouldn’t let him do that to me today.

Not ever again.

We walked past the house toward the sound of laughter and kids squealing and Christian worship music coming from the backyard’s Bluetooth speakers—it was Easter after all—and stepped right into a storybook, small-town party.

Streamers and lights and balloons were strung everywhere. A large section of the backyard was dotted with plastic Easter eggs. Tables—at least a half-dozen large, rectangle tables—were not only covered with paper tablecloths that had a board of Easter eggs and bunnies on them, but the tables had centerpieces all topped with the same. White vases and yellow daisies sat in the center of all the rounded tables where families sat and ate. Where kids stuffed themselves with desserts and vegetables and fruit.

“I’ll go set these down,” I told my mom.

Connie Decker was beautiful. Everyone in town thought so, our dad most especially, because they’d been married almost thirty years and he still, every night, told her she was the most beautiful woman in four counties. He’d stayed at home to fix some broken part of a tractor he’d noticed earlier that morning, but he’d be here later, no doubt not far from my mom for any length of time.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Mom smiled at me and waved to Mrs. Kelley who was rushing to say hello to us.

Jenny Kelley was sweet and goofy and loved every single creature on the planet. She was also a woman I tended to avoid as much as possible, only because hearing her talk about how awesome all her kids were doing made me want to tell her the truth about what Cameron had done to me.

She’d whip him. I had no doubt. Or, no, she wouldn’t because she was too nice, but she’d have Cameron whipped by something. Someone.

And then she’d probably do something crazy, like make him apologize for something that should have stopped mattering to me years ago.

Eight years, and I was still in love with the man who took my virginity, forgot all about it, and then never had a single nice thing to say to me since. Like I was the one who’d wronged him.

I was an idiot, but I was an idiot who looked nice just in case the jerk showed up, which probably made me a whole lot worse than an idiot. Whatever. I’m used to it these days.

I skirted around Mom and Isaiah before Mrs. Kelley reached us and hurried to the dessert table.

Cameron Kelley was the kind of man who followed a strict diet and hadn’t let a single granule of sugar past his lips since he was fifteen years old and started getting noticed by college scouts.

If he were around, which I had no doubt he would be, but I wasn’t wasting my time looking for him, I’d be safe near the desserts and the piles of sugary confections.

In the end, I left the dessert table. I didn’t wander far, but there were too many people I knew who I had to say hello to, or my mother would hear I was rude. Either that, or people would soon start whispering about what was wrong with me for not saying hello. Or they’d start gossiping about how I was gaining weight, “all those treats she had on Easter” would be mumbled for months.

So yeah, I left the safety of the sugar station, but only long enough to grab a drink, say hello to my friends, and play with their kids for a spell before I headed back near the cover of safety.

I was on my second beer, recently filled so it was full, when Mr. Kelley stepped up onto his deck, ringing a large, copper cowbell in his raised hand.

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Charles Kelly had a booming voice. He had a grumpy exterior, but inside he was a large, squishy marshmallow. If any man loved his wife more than my dad loved his, it was Mr. Kelley, currently grinning a smile the size of Colorado toward the gathered crowd.

“It pleases me to have had the year we’ve had. And it’s not only because the crops and cattle were blessed with perfect weather?—”

A chorus of “hear-hear” and “Amen” echoed through the crowd. Such was small-town farm life. But Mr. Kelley’s smile was contagious, and I found my own smile matching his as he continued.

“In addition to the bounty we were already given, most, if not all, of you know we were given an extra boon in our family this past fall, and that is with the addition of our new grandson.”

I cheered right along with everyone else. I’d met Caleb’s new girlfriend Emily a couple of times when they came to town and I happened to be around. Isaiah and I had a drink with them at Tom’s Saloon over Christmas when Caleb had a break from hockey for a few days. Emily had somehow run into him, after years of not being able to find him, to tell him he had a son.

Now, they were dating, currently holding hands while the breeze blew Emily’s green and crème maxi skirt around her ankles as they stepped up next to Charles.

“And for us,” Charles said, setting down the cowbell and reaching for his beer on the ledge of the deck. “We have more wonderful and bountiful news. We’ve not only gained a grandson, but as of today, we’re looking forward to celebrating that we will soon, officially, have a new daughter as well!”

“We’re getting married!”

Cheers rang out all over so hard the ground shook. Caleb raised his and Emily’s entwined hands in the air, and even from where I stood, I could see the sun hit the large rock on her finger, making it sparkle and shine.

Although that shining rock was minimal compared to the smile on Emily’s face.

“Happy for them,” a voice murmured from behind me.

Everything stilled and stopped. Suddenly, there was no one else. Nothing else.

Cameron’s chest was so close to my back, not quite touching, but close, and the heat that wafted off him, warmed me straight to my little toes and beyond.

God I hated him. More, I hated myself for still carrying a torch for him. Still thought about him. Still dreamed of the night I begged him, pleaded with him to have sex with me.

It was eight years ago. The effects were no less humiliating.

“How’s life?” Cameron asked. “How’s Kip?”

The snide tone in his voice wasn’t real. I imagined it, though. Had to. There was no way Cameron cared about Kip or my relationship with him.

“Fine. Great, actually.” I shrugged and took a sip of my drink. Good thing for me, my hands were steady. No tremors to show my nerves, something Cameron would definitely pick up on.

“You’re not going to congratulate me?” Ugh. That tone. That arrogant, cocky, and somehow still sweet and lovely tone in his voice. It made me want to scream and grab his face and kiss him all at the same time.

“You’re not getting married,” I snipped back.

“I meant for the Super Bowl.”

He’d led his team, the Colorado Mountaineers, to their first Super Bowl appearance in twenty years. It was astonishing. It’d been fantastical. Kip and I hosted a Super Bowl party, but I’d ignored everyone there the entire game and kept my eyes glued to the screen. Much like I always did when Cameron played.

It annoyed the freak out of Kip. He’d spent the next day not speaking to me.

I’d only been bothered by the fact it made me a crappy girlfriend, but yet Kip was so nice to me, so good to me, and loved me so much. I tried every single day to love him the way he loved me, but when I went to bed at night, I’d have that sinking feeling that I once again came up short. I probably should have left him, given him a chance to be loved by someone who could, but every time I opened my mouth to try, I froze. I loved Kip. I did. In my own way. The reason I couldn’t give him everything was currently standing in front of me, smirking down at me.

And like always, I became the viper, poised to strike, to hurt him the way he’d for so long hurt me.

“You didn’t win,” I told him.

Cameron was no longer behind me. He moved so quickly I didn’t blink, and he was there, standing in front of me, blocking my view from everything and everyone, but that didn’t matter because when he was around, I never saw anything or anyone.

But I knew that scowl on his face well. The pinched lips. The tight eyes. He and Caleb were twins, not identical, but close enough that outside their hair—Cameron’s was shorter—strangers wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

I could, though. Cameron was more intense. Always had been. Football wasn’t a game to him, it was life, and they both might have been on professional teams in their respective sports, but there was a fire in Cameron where Caleb was more water. Caleb went with the flow, rode the tide. Cameron was the tide. The force behind nature.

“That’s not very nice,” he said to me. Still with that scowl.

He hadn’t been nice to me in almost eight years to the day. Mom always told me to be the bigger person, but when it came to Cameron, it was impossible.

And frankly, he had almost a foot of height on me and at least a hundred pounds. I couldn’t be bigger than him if I tried.

“Congratulations,” I drawled, and there was no mistaking the sarcasm in my tone. “For getting to and then losing the Super Bowl, Cameron. Better luck next year, though, yeah.”

I spun to leave, already the ball of guilt at my own nastiness lodging in my throat. He deserved it, but it still made me sick.

“Wait a damn second,” he growled. Yes, growled. And that growl shot right to my stomach. Deeper. Lower.

Which meant I shivered. He reached out to grab my arm, at the same time that shiver happened, which meant he felt it.

And smirked, when I was face-to-face with him again.

“What do you want?” I asked.

Because that look. I’d seen that before. Many times in my life, but the last time was right after he gave me my very first orgasm. With his mouth and fingers. At the same time.

“I want to know why you’re always so pissy around me.”

Pissy? Me? I was pissy? Oh, he had to be… “You’re joking,” I hissed, and somehow he was closer, but he hadn’t moved. No, it was me. And I was on the tiptoes of my boots, leaning in, breathing like a bull ready to charge the red flag.

For a second, I swore I saw a flash of something in his sky-blue eyes. Something that looked like regret. Sadness. It was gone in a blink, though, and the arrogance returned.

That damn smile reappeared. Man, he had a beautiful smile.

“Yeah, Sunshine. Tell me why you’re so pissy with me. I thought you liked me.”

Sunshine. I hadn’t heard that in well over eight years. Probably ten. We’d been at the creek. Caleb, Cameron, a whole host of girls in their grades, along with Isaiah and me, and their sister Meredith were all at the creek. I was fourteen, Cameron and the guys were sixteen, and I had taken a break to lay out on a towel.

Cameron had stood over me, blocking my view of the sun, and I’d sworn his eyes raked down my body for a second before ending up on my hair. “Your hair is as bright as the sun,” he’d said.

Someone had slapped his back.

He’d turned and taken off.

But for the rest of that day, and the following week and a year or two after, to Cameron, I was Sunshine.

Fury rose, hard and fast, and was bubbling over before I could stop it.

He didn’t know why I was pissy.

But he should have.

And that was what hurt the most. That was what made me madder than a hornet in a kicked nest.

Which meant I didn’t have full control of all my senses when I lifted my glass of beer, almost still full and probably warm, and threw it in his face.

“You’re an asshole, Cameron Kelley!”

He cursed and stepped back, but it was the look of horror on everyone’s faces around us that made my cheeks burn with equal embarrassment and fury.

I’d done it again.

I’d acted like a fool.

But as I ran out of the Kelley’s backyard before anyone could stop me or catch me, I vowed to myself to finally grow up.

Eight years ago, Cameron took my virginity and promptly forgot all about it.

It was time I forgot about him.