Love Deep

Chapter 1

ONE

Juniper

I can’t remember the last time I was excited about seeing a guy.

I pop the lid off my new eyeliner and try to perfect the eye flick I saw an influencer on the ’Gram doing.

I rarely wear makeup. It feels like one more daily chore, and I have enough of those.

Tonight, I’m making an exception. The last time I had a crush, I was in high school.

That was over a decade ago, and it’s been two years since my last date.

But this evening, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be in the same general vicinity of the British friend of a guy I went to high school with.

Byron—who grew up in this town but moved to New York as soon as he could—has built a fancy resort on the edge of town.

The grand opening for all the super wealthy VIPs is tonight.

I’m not going there, even though eighteen of my paintings now hang in the Club after Byron purchased them.

Fancy parties aren’t my vibe. But Byron’s throwing an after-party at Grizzly’s, the local bar, and I’m pretty sure his friend Fisher is going to be there.

I feel like I’m sixteen, desperate to spot the quarterback in the school halls.

He might not even show.

It’s not like we’re heading out on a date.

We haven’t even met.

Fisher was introduced to a group of us at Grizzly’s when he and Byron were on their way out a few weeks ago, but it was a Hey, everyone, this is Fisher, Fisher, this is everyone kinda deal.

I’m not sure he even saw me, but I definitely saw him.

I had to try very hard not to pass out. It wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out to be Henry Cavill’s hotter younger brother.

The first things I noticed were his broad shoulders and muscular forearms. My gaze trailed up, and I took in his dirty-blond hair and wide smile, and I shuddered.

I actually shook from looking at the guy.

When he slid his hand along his strong, stubbled jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity between my legs.

I’ve never had such a physical reaction to just being close to a man.

But tonight… Byron says he’s going to introduce me to Fisher because Fisher might know someone who might want to buy my artwork.

I think that’s what he said. Or he might know someone who wants to help me do something with my art.

I don’t remember the details—just that Byron wanted to introduce me to the tall, blond British guy who made my body weak when I first saw him.

I’m good with that. Very good.

I’m not sure if it’s because Fisher’s new in town that had my body reacting the way it did.

Maybe it’s because he’s British and the accent is like molten chocolate.

It could be that he has the biggest, warmest smile I’ve ever seen.

Tick here for all of the above. All I know is that when I first laid eyes on him, it was like I was hit with a thunderbolt and my vagina woke from a decade-long hibernation and told me she was ready for business.

It’s not like I’m expecting to… I don’t know…

fall in love or have Fisher fall in love with me.

He lives in New York and is only here to celebrate the opening of Byron’s private members resort, the Colorado Club.

Soon enough, he’ll be back in New York, and I’ll still be here in Star Falls.

But it’s nice to remember what it feels like to be attracted to someone again. It’s been a long time.

I drop my eyeliner back in the pencil pot Riley made me for my birthday and comb my fingers through my long, wavy hair. I can’t brush it. It will just frizz. It will have to do.

An agonizing groan comes from the other side of my bedroom door, and I go out to investigate.

“Riley?” I ask as I pop my head into her bedroom.

But she’s not in there. The TV is blaring from the living room, but she’s not in there, either.

“Riley?” I call out.

“Moooom!” A strangled cry comes from the bathroom.

I rush into the bathroom to find Riley, my normally full-of-beans eight-year-old daughter hunched over the toilet bowl.

“Mom,” she cries. “I threw up.”

My stomach hits the floor, and my heart sinks down beside it. I kneel down next to her, rubbing circles on her back with my palm. “I’m here, my sweet girl.”

I place my free hand across her forehead. She’s burning hot.

“I think I’m going to throw—”

After she throws up what’s left of her lunch, I strip off her pajamas and put her in the shower.

“Mom, why am I sick?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. We all get sick.”

I grab some shower gel and soap down her body. She barely moves. Normally, she’d be dancing about, singing a Vivian Cross song.

My mom calls out, “Where are you girls?”

“In here, Mom,” I call back and open the bathroom door.

My mom is holding a foil-covered dish—because my mom never comes over without food. Not ever. I mean, I love it. She’s a great cook, and it saves me a job, but I think she thinks we’d both starve without her.

“Fizzy, I’m sick,” Riley calls from behind our cat-print shower curtain. Each cat has a name and its own unique identity.

“Oh, my darling girl,” my mom says. “It’s good Fizzy’s here. You can have some slow-cooked chicken. It will make you feel much better.”

Riley groans, and I maneuver Mom out of the doorway and back into our living space. The last thing I want is Riley vomiting again.

“Mom, can you make me a plate of that chicken? I can’t wait to try it. I’ll just go and get Riley out of the shower.”

“Won’t you eat at Grizzly’s?” she calls, as I head back down the hall to the bathroom.

“I’m not going to leave Riley.”

I’m equally sad for Riley being sick and sad for me that I’m no longer heading out to Grizzly’s to meet Fisher.

But life rarely works out how you planned.

There’s no way I’ll leave my daughter when she’s sick.

It’s not that I don’t trust my mother—of course I do.

But I’m Riley’s mom, and she needs to know that she comes first for me.

Her dad has shown her often enough that she doesn’t come first for him, and she doesn’t need that message from two parents.

I knew when I became a mom that I’d make sacrifices, and I’ve always embraced them.

What I get from being a mother far outweighs anything I give up.

Even if it’s an encounter with a suave Englishman.

Yeah, maybe I’m overprotective, but that’s who I am.

It’s who I have to be. My mom and dad help out, but Riley’s my responsibility and always has been, even when her father lived in Star Falls.

“Oh, Juney,” she says, and that’s the last thing I hear.

“How’s my sweet girl doing in here?” I ask.

“I’m cold,” she says as steam billows in the bathroom.

I turn off the faucet and pull back the curtain. “Let’s get you dry.” I cover her with a towel and help her out of the shower.

“Mommy, Fizzy’s going to make me eat that chicken, and I just can’t.”

I press a kiss to her head and start to dry her off like I used to when she was too little to dry herself. I miss these little moments, now that she’s bigger. The times when she used to need me, but she needs me less and less. She’s growing so fast. Riley’s eight going on eighteen.

“Fizzy’s not going to make you eat that chicken. I won’t let her.”

“As soon as you leave, she will. Please don’t go, Mom.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, rubbing the towel over her brown curls, which always appear when her hair is wet. “How can I leave my sweet girl when she’s sick?”

“Really, Mommy? You’re going to stay?” She says it like I’m always out.

A couple of times a month, I make it a mile down the road to Grizzly’s. It’s not like I’m shaking my booty in… New York. Regret pulls at my stomach. I won’t see Fisher now.

But it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anything could have come of that anyway. He’s some hotshot in New York, and I’m a single mom in Star Falls, Colorado. I laugh at myself. What was I thinking?

“What’s so funny?” Riley asks.

“Oh, just life,” I say, patting her head as we go into her bedroom. “Now, which PJs do you want? The blue ones with the cats?”

While she changes, I go back to my room, pull my hair into a ponytail, and swap my jeans for sweats. I’m more comfortable like this anyhow.

Riley’s coming out of her bedroom with Miss Paws just as I come out of mine. “I’m sorry I ruined your night. I bet you and Eva were going to have a lot of fun, right?”

“Not as much fun as I’ll have here with you.”

She grins up at me and holds up her stuffie. “Don’t forget Miss Paws. She’s fun too.”

“Super fun,” I reply. “The funnest.”

“Mommy,” she says, “funnest isn’t an actual word, you know.”

“It isn’t?” I ask, not wanting to doubt her. “Well, it’s in my special Mom dictionary.”

“Along with huggles?” she asks.

“Exactly. Because moms are the only people who can give a hug and a cuddle at the same time.”

“So, who wants chicken?” Mom asks as we walk into the living room, and Riley groans.

“Just me, Mom. But we might wait an hour. Let Riley recover a while. You can get home to Dad if you want. Now that I’m not going out.”

“Are you sure you won’t go?” she asks. “I thought you were looking forward to tonight. Isn’t there a party at Grizzly’s? You never know who you might meet.”

My mom is always trying to find me a husband. It’s not something I’m looking for, but I don’t bother to tell her. Riley comes first, second, and third in my life. There isn’t really room for anyone else. They’d have to be really special to get a seat at the table in my house.

“Mom, I would have seen Eva there. She’s only working half a shift. We might have met people I’ve known for thirty years. No one new comes into Grizzly’s.”

The exception is Byron’s friends, but I don’t say that to Mom. She doesn’t need more reasons to try to convince me to go out tonight. I want to stay in with Riley.

“You know they’re having that big opening at the Colorado Club tonight. I heard Justin Timberlake is playing. You never know, he might swing by Grizzly’s for the locals’ after-party.”

We both start to laugh, and then Riley asks, “Who’s Justin Timberlake?” Our laughs deepen, and I officially feel as old as the sky.

“But seriously,” Mom says, “isn’t Byron throwing a party at Grizzly’s? That’s what Donna said when I saw her earlier.”

“Yeah, but it’s Grizzly’s. That place will be here when the three of us are dead and buried. I can go to Grizzly’s next week.”

Next week, when the Colorado Club is open to the world and no doubt Fisher will have returned to New York.

Sometimes, life works out the way it’s meant to. Just me at home with my sweet girl. Tonight, I can dream of handsome Englishmen with messy hair and broad smiles that make me shudder. Fisher can stay my fantasy. That’s all he was ever going to be anyway.