Chapter 14
P olly leaned back in the deck chair, the cool Montana air a tingle against her skin.
Her mother stepped out the back door and handed her a blanket. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She spread the blanket over her legs before sipping her beer.
God, it was beautiful out here. The mountains just tipped over the fence at the back of her mother’s property, and all they had were the sounds of wind through the trees for company.
Her mother sat beside her, gaze going straight to Jonah at the back of the yard as he built a woodshed.
“He looks handy,” Polly commented.
“He is. And very house proud. I never have to ask him to do a single thing. If there’s work to do, he just does it.”
Polly studied her mother’s face. The softness in her eyes. The love. “You really care about him.”
“No, I am head over heels in love with that man. He’s my husband.”
“I know, but…” What was a nice way of saying “You’ve had many of those”?
“I know what you’re thinking.” Her mother fiddled with the edge of her own throw. “That this is my fifth marriage and what makes him different? My honest answer is, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, you know?”
Polly frowned at Jonah as he fit two planks of wood together. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to watch me go through so many relationships. It was never my intention to taint your view of men or dating or marriage.”
Her fingers tightened around the bottle. She wasn’t sure if her mother wanted her to deny that she’d done exactly that. She wasn’t sure she could. “I just can’t remember any good chunk of time where you’ve been single. You move on to the next relationship so quickly.”
“I know. I regret that too.”
Her attention flew back to her mother. “You do?”
“Oh yes. Your independence and ability to live on your own terms just amazes me, Polls. I am constantly in awe of you.”
Polly scoffed.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to believe about anything anymore.” Right on cue, her phone buzzed with a text.
Joel: I’m working late tonight. I ran home at lunch and left a key under the mat for you.
Her heart gave a little kick. Which was ridiculous. It was a key, not a marriage proposal.
“Is that Joel?”
Her mother’s question pulled her gaze up. “What?”
“You always get that look on your face with him.”
“What look?”
Her mother just gave her a knowing grin. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you trust enough to let through that hard exterior of yours.”
Words of denial danced at the tip of her tongue. Words about not letting him in. About Joel being like everyone else. But they didn’t feel true enough to set free. “I think I’m beginning to feel okay with the idea of dating him. Officially.”
Joel had been right last week—they were basically in a relationship. This would just be putting a label on it.
Her mother’s smile was wide. “That’s great, honey.”
“I’m still scared that he’s going to break my heart, but I’m doing my best to trust him. I’m tired of feeling angry and defensive all the time. I’m tired of pushing people away to protect myself.”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes, but she blinked them away.
“Nothing makes me happier than hearing you say that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to being your mother.
I dated that jerk who locked you in the toy box.
And that fitness enthusiast who made us hike like we were perpetually exercise deprived.
And I just…didn’t prioritize you enough. ”
“Mom—”
“But I’m glad you found a man who’s helping you heal. And there is nothing wrong with letting your heart take the lead. It wants what it wants, and so much joy and love can come from that.”
Jonah crossed over to them and dropped onto the deck couch beside her mother. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Thai food and wine?”
“After you shower.”
“Are you saying I smell?” He feigned hurt.
“No, you don’t smell, you stink .” She tried to shove him off.
“Hm. Well, you probably won’t like this then.” He leaned over and started kissing down her neck. Her mother just laughed.
And that was Polly’s cue to go. “I’ll see you guys later.”
They weren’t listening. They weren’t even trying to listen.
She walked through her mother’s bungalow and out to her car. But she didn’t drive to her house. She hadn’t been home for days.
She’d started accumulating her things inside Joel’s home. A toothbrush in the bathroom. Clothes in a spare drawer. She was pretty sure her phone charger now lived beside his bed.
Yep, one big fat relationship. And yes, it felt scary, but there was also another emotion that had started to bloom…excitement.
A smile curved her lips as she pulled onto his street. Even though Joel had said he’d still be at work, light poked through the curtains.
But his car wasn’t in the drive. Strange.
Maybe he’d parked in the garage. But he never did that.
She parked on the street and climbed out. Every step toward the front door had her heart beating faster. It had started to do that a lot in his presence. And she was learning to surrender to it.
She knocked, and the sound of feet hitting floorboards sounded from the other side of the door. But as soon as it opened, her smile fell.
It wasn’t Joel who stood on the other side—it was a woman. A beautiful blond, with the most gorgeous blue eyes and silky long hair. She had manicured nails and wore a strappy black tank top with expensive-looking jeans.
The woman smiled. “Hi. Can I help you?”
Polly almost stepped back to see if she was at the right house. Either that or an alternate universe. “Is Joel home?”
“Not yet. But he should be soon. Would you like me to leave him a message?”
A message? Like, what the hell was going on?
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Bronte.” She held out a hand. “I’m his fiancée.”
Polly almost stumbled back, the word hitting her like a giant blow to her stomach. “What?”
The woman held up her hand to show the biggest rock on her ring finger that Polly had ever seen. “Yeah. We’ve been engaged since we were kids. Grant and Martha Dawson are basically my parents too.”
What?
Her heart began to race.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The woman gushed over her ring, completely oblivious to Polly’s shutdown. “It was his grandmother’s.”
Engaged since they were kids. Wearing his grandmother’s engagement ring.
Suddenly, every deeply instilled belief about men, about relationships, crawled up her chest.
What was wrong with her? She knew better than to trust men. To trust love and relationships. But she’d gone against everything she believed in for Joel.
“I…I have to go.” She turned and moved, ran back to her car.
This was what happened when you let down your guard. You got hurt.
She knew that. She’d known that her entire life.
Yet, still, she’d allowed herself to fall for him. And because of that, she hadn’t just gotten burned, she’d had her entire heart set alight.
Joel was late. He hated being late. It meant less time with Polly. Sure, it was just half an hour, but he sucked up every second with her that he got.
His phone rang from the middle console and his heart did that skip thing when he thought it might be her. One glance at the screen and his fingers tightened around the wheel.
Not Polly. His mother. Again . She’d called three times today. Three . And she wasn’t the only one who’d called.
Just a few hours ago, Bronte had called for the first time since that surprise call last week.
He hadn’t answered, because the team had been in the middle of training.
But after her first call, he’d told his parents to back off.
That they needed to understand—and they also needed to make Bronte and her family understand—that there was no deal. No arrangement. It wasn’t happening.
He frowned when he arrived home. Polly’s car wasn’t on the street or in the driveway, but the lights were on. Had her mother dropped her off?
Or was someone else in his house?
Before getting out of his truck, he took the Glock from the middle console. When he reached the front door, he tried the handle. Locked.
He pulled out his key. Once inside, he heard it—a rummaging sound coming from the bedroom. It could be Polly. He hoped like hell it was, because he didn’t feel like shooting anyone today.
Three quiet steps, fingers secure around the grip of the gun, and he stepped into the bedroom.
Empty.
Then a barefoot Bronte Simmons walked out of the attached bathroom.
What. The. Fuck?
The second she saw him, her face transformed into a smile. The woman had always had a big smile, but just because it was wide didn’t make it sincere.
“Joel! You’re home.” She frowned at the gun. “Why do you have that?”
He lowered the Glock. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her brows shot up like the question surprised her. “I…I came to see you.”
“How did you—” It hit him. “You found the key under the mat.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
Again, she looked confused. Couldn’t possibly be as confused as him , because, again, what the fuck ?
“We’re engaged, Joel.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
His gaze caught on the huge diamond on her finger. The familiar diamond. “That’s my grandmother’s ring.”
“I know. Your mother gave it to me. I thought…I thought you asked her to.”
“No, Bronte. I didn’t ask her to. And we’re not engaged.”
Her mouth opened and closed. “What are you talking about? We’ve been engaged since we were kids.”
“No. Our parents decided it would be a good business decision to merge our families so they could lock in a generational alliance. Land and operation in one name. That was never something I agreed to.”
She shook her head, almost looking angry now. “ No . This was always the plan. I waited for you. I’ve been waiting. You can’t just back out.”
“You can’t back out of something you never agreed to.”
She glowered at him. “Don’t you get what this marriage could do for us and our families? Don’t you want that kind of wealth? That life?”
“No.”
Her head reared back as if the single word stunned her. Like she couldn’t fathom not marrying someone for money and power and prestige.
“I waited for you to finish that soldier stuff in the Navy.” Three fast steps brought her right in front of him. “I turned a blind eye to every whore you ever slept with in Houston and ignored every date you went on. Every photo in the paper. Was that woman who came by earlier another one?”
He flinched. “Polly? She was here?”
“I can’t remember her name! Brown eyes. Tattoos down her arm like she rides a Harley and lives in the sticks. Is that what you want?”
Polly was here. And she’d met Bronte. “What did you say to her?”
“She saw the ring, if that’s what you’re asking. Guess I did your dirty little breakup for you.”
She saw the ring. She saw the fucking ring . “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get the hell out, Bronte. Now !”
This time she flinched. “You can’t be serious…”
“Either you walk out on your own, or I’ll make you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She gasped in a puff of air before swallowing. “Fine. But this isn’t over!” She grabbed her suitcase from beside the bed and stormed toward the door.
He hadn’t even heard the click of the door before he hit Polly’s number on his phone. She didn’t answer.
Shit.
He tried again.
Nothing.
He grabbed his keys and ran. He needed to find her. He needed her to know that he loved her. That she, and she alone, was all he wanted. Because the alternative was losing her. And there was no fucking way he was letting that happen.