Sneak Peek of A Love That’s Mine
Chapter 1
“Don’t even think about it.” Jay Nordstrom’s hard, unyielding voice sliced through the silence that had settled over the old farmhouse all morning.
Rachel Tanner’s hand froze midair, lips twitching into a satisfied smile. Finally—a reaction. Until now, Jay had been stone silent, pretending to read in the dim living room. It was a wonder he could see a single word.
Taking a slow breath, she reached forward and yanked open the heavy brocade drapes. Sunlight streamed into the room, warm and golden.
Jay recoiled. “Shut them,” he barked, shielding his face. “Shut them now.”
Rachel counted to ten. That tone—it reminded her of her father’s. She pushed the memory aside. Jay had been through hell this past month. A little sunlight might do more good than harm.
Instead of arguing, she turned to face him, letting the warmth kiss her skin. “It’s too beautiful a day to sit in the dark,” she said, her voice steady.
He glared, eyes sharp with pain and pride. Rachel met his stare with a smile, unwavering.
She didn’t truly know him, not beyond the way you know someone from a shared hometown. He’d been two grades ahead, all charm and confidence. She’d been the quiet girl in the library.
He’d made it big—news anchor, model, the hometown hero who’d outgrown the town. Now, here he was. Broken. Bitter.
And still, ridiculously good-looking, even with a scar slicing across one cheek and bruising marring one eye. His mother had painted a grim picture, but Rachel thought he looked more like a fallen warrior than anything else.
“So you have a scar,” she said casually. “And a black eye. Big deal.”
His expression hardened. “Is that why you took this job? So you could stare at the freak and run home with gossip?”
Her breath caught. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice shifting into the gentle cadence she used with first graders. “I wasn’t staring. I was remembering the last time you were in Millville.”
“I wasn’t a freak then.”
“You’re not a freak now.” Her tone sharpened. Sympathy could only stretch so far. He was alive. That mattered more than a scar.
She thought of little Timmy from her class—disfigured, in pain, and still smiling. Jay’s injuries were fresh. But his attitude? That was a choice.
“I was in a body cast for scoliosis,” she said, glancing at the cast on his leg. “Don’t expect sympathy from me.”
His brows lifted. “I thought nurses were supposed to be sympathetic.”
She let out a short laugh. “I’m a teacher, not a nurse.”
A dimple flashed in his cheek, disrupting the scar. “What are you planning to teach me?”
She arched a brow. “Manners, for starters.”
His gaze lingered. “We should start with something easier.”
“Like what?”
“Kissing.”
Her heart thumped. She’d dreamed of kissing Jay Nordstrom since middle school. But that was then.
“Not going to happen,” she said, voice light but firm.
“Because I’m ugly?”
She rolled her eyes. “No.”
“I don’t believe you. What other reason is there?”
She hesitated. “I’m involved.”
“Engaged?”
She shook her head. “No. But we’re exclusive.”
Jay sighed, leaning back. “Everyone in this town is married, engaged, or involved. It’s insane.”
She smiled. “I call it normal.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “My prom date has three kids. Tell me that’s not exaggerated.”
“Her oldest was in my class last year.”
“No kidding.”
They laughed. It was strange, easy. Like maybe they weren’t so different after all.
Rachel mentioned more classmates, and Jay shook his head at the surreal nature of it all.
“I can’t imagine being tied down like that,” he admitted. “Can you?”
Rachel didn’t answer right away. Her childhood dreams had always included a husband and children.
“Didn’t I read you were dating a model?” she asked.
“Lindsay Stark,” he said flatly. “Haven’t seen her since the accident.”
“Out of the country?”
“No. Just busy.” The flash of hurt in his eyes was quick but visible.
“What about you?” he asked. “Does your boyfriend live here?”
She nodded. “Tom Tidball. You graduated with him.”
His surprise was obvious.
“He moved back last year,” she explained.
“I thought he’d married Karen Wheeler.”
“He did. It didn’t last.”
Jay shook his head. “Someone my age already divorced. That’s hard to wrap my head around.”
Rachel nodded. “I see it every day in my classroom. Half my kids come from single-parent homes.”
“That’s why you need to marry the right person.”
“Exactly.” She smiled, heart catching on the truth of it.
“Have you and Tom talked about marriage?”
“In general terms. We’re taking it slow.”
“Doubts?”
She hesitated. “We have some issues to resolve.”
“Do you two live together?”
“No. I don’t believe in sex before marriage.”
His brows shot up. “Tom’s okay with that?”
“He respects my decision.”
Jay smiled. Not mocking. Just surprised.
“You think it’s silly.”
“I think it’s rare.”
She tilted her head. “Why are you here, Jay? Why not stay in L.A.?”
He hesitated. “Didn’t want my friends to see me like this.”
“But they’re your friends.”
“They’re also ambitious. If I’m out, someone’s in.”
Rachel didn’t argue. She’d seen that kind of cutthroat world herself.
“I came back for the same reason,” she admitted. “Chicago wasn’t home.”
Jay nodded. “Only difference is, I’m not staying.”
“I love it here,” she said simply.
He looked at her, something unreadable in his gaze. “You really like it?”
“I do. Even if Mrs. Kellogg spies on my dates and Jeanie at the post office asks what’s in every package.”
Jay laughed. “Jeanie Carmichael still works there? Unbelievable.”
“Nothing really changes in Millville,” she said.
His expression softened. “You’ve changed. You’re all grown up and beautiful.”
Her breath caught. Heat rose in her cheeks.
“You must be running a fever,” she said lightly. “Because the last thing I am is beautiful.”
+
“The last thing in the world I am is beautiful.”
Rachel’s quiet words lingered in the air like a fading melody, and Jay studied her face, uncertain whether she truly believed them or was hoping he’d disagree. The vulnerability in her tone suggested the former, and something about that tugged at a place inside him he’d long forgotten.
“I beg to differ,” he said at last, voice low and sincere. “I told my mom to find me the best-looking woman in town. You’re the one she chose.”
Rachel let out a surprised laugh. “Mrs. Gibbons was the only other applicant. Need I say more?”
Jay blinked. “Mrs. Gibbons who works at the nursing home?”
“Mrs. Gibbons who used to work at the nursing home,” Rachel corrected with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Now she lives there.”
A skeptical look crossed his face. “I can’t believe my mother seriously considered her.”
“She was actually the frontrunner,” Rachel said, feigning solemnity, “until your mom realized she’d graduated with your Aunt Lena and would need more care than you. That’s when I surged into the lead.”
Jay chuckled, and something inside him loosened. He’d expected to merely tolerate Rachel—if he remembered her from school at all, it was as the quiet, studious girl who seemed above it all. But the woman standing before him now had a quick wit and unexpectedly warm eyes that caught and held his attention.
His gaze softened as he let it linger. Maybe it was the golden light filtering through the windows or the way she stood, unpretentious and comfortable in her skin. Whatever it was, he was suddenly grateful his mother had chosen her. If he had to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, there was no one he’d rather be stuck with.
Rachel’s features were finely drawn, her full mouth unconsciously expressive. Her silvery blond hair gleamed, unmistakably natural in a world of bleached imitations. Unlike the women in his L.A. orbit—toned, tanned, and surgically enhanced—Rachel’s curves were real, her presence grounded.
She wore khaki shorts and a pale tank top, simple and unassuming, but the way the sunlight played over her skin made his pulse stir. Something inside him sparked to life—a flicker of interest, attraction, maybe even hope. For the first time since the accident, he felt like himself again.
Rachel tilted her head and smiled. “It’s good to see you smile,” she said gently. “You must be feeling better.”
“I am,” Jay said, his voice quieter now. “And it’s all because of you.”
+
Rachel’s heart skipped a beat, warmth rising unbidden to her cheeks. She’d taken this job for the money, plain and simple. A few weeks of light housekeeping, chauffeuring Jay to his doctor appointments, and keeping an eye on Aunt Lena, and she’d have enough to replace her ancient furnace before winter.
Her friends had teased her relentlessly about spending her days with “Mr. GQ,” but she’d laughed it off. She had a steady boyfriend. Even if she didn’t, she wasn’t Jay’s type. He was Hollywood—polished, perfect. She was Iowa—steady, simple. Never in her wildest imaginings had she expected him to be… a complication.
“If you’re hungry,” she said lightly, determined to stay grounded, “I could make you a fruit smoothie. The vitamin C in the orange juice would probably be good for?—”
“Rachel.”
Her name, spoken in his deep, gravel-edged voice, sent a shiver straight down her spine.
“I don’t want a smoothie.”
She sighed. “Then what do you want, Jay?”
He stared at her, and a slow, easy smile curved his lips. “Fresh air.”
The teasing glint in his eyes told her he knew exactly the effect he was having. Her fingers curled against her thighs to keep from tossing a pillow at his smirking face.
“When I see something I want, I go for it,” he said, voice low, rich with challenge. “How ’bout you?”
Rachel folded her arms, heart thudding. “I think acting in haste is never wise,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “Fast isn’t always better. You know that better than most. Wasn’t it speed that landed you in your current predicament?”
His smile faded. “What did my mother tell you?”
Rachel shifted, regretting the jab. “Just something about you liking to drive fast.”
In truth, Twyla had blamed the accident on Jay’s “heavy foot,” but Rachel saw no reason to rub salt in the wound.
“The roads were wet,” he said flatly. “I misjudged a curve. The tree came out of nowhere.”
A chill traced down her spine as she imagined it. “You could’ve been killed.”
“When I woke up and saw myself in the mirror,” Jay said, “I wished I had been.”
Rachel stared, stunned by the raw honesty in his voice. There was no melodrama, just stark, painful truth.
“There’s more to a person than physical beauty,” she said softly, then added quickly, “Not that you’re ugly now.”
A humorless smile tugged at his mouth. “In my line of work, how you look can be just as important as how well you speak.”
“But you’ll go back, right?” she asked gently. The scar was already fading, and from what Twyla had said, his doctors were optimistic. “With a little makeup, no one will even notice.”
“I hope so,” he said. “But in this business, out of sight is out of mind. By the time I’m ready, they might like my replacement better.”
“There are no guarantees,” she admitted. “But change isn’t always bad.”
He arched a brow.
“When I was in Chicago, I worked for a big firm doing training. Eight months in, I was downsized. At the time, I thought my life was over. But looking back? It was the best thing that could have happened.”
“You liked being unemployed?” he asked, skeptical.
“Of course not,” she said, smiling. “But it forced me to reevaluate everything. That’s when I realized what actually mattered.”
“You had an epiphany.”
“Exactly.”
Jay watched her with quiet interest as she sat across from him, her expression open and sincere.
“I went to Chicago to prove I could be successful—to show the world I was capable. But I was chasing the wrong dream.”
“Then what?”
She hesitated, then said, “Then I realized I didn’t care what the world thought. What mattered was what I thought. What made me happy.”
Her voice warmed with conviction. “Teaching first grade isn’t glamorous, but it matters. I get to make a real difference. I get to shape futures. I plant seeds that’ll grow long after I’m gone.”
Jay smiled, and Rachel flushed. Maybe she had gone overboard again.
“All I’m saying is, losing that job gave me back my purpose.”
“I’m glad it worked out,” Jay said, his tone quiet but sincere. “But I like my job. I want to go back.”
“God willing, you will,” she said.
“General manager willing, you mean,” Jay replied wryly. “Pretty sure this is one decision God won’t have much say in.”
Rachel shook her head gently. How could someone raised in faith be so blind to the bigger picture? To her, Jay’s accident—and the fact that he was here, alive, in Millville—was no coincidence.
There was a purpose to it all. She didn’t know what it was yet. But in time, she believed they both would.
Enjoy the rest of A Love That’s Mine today.