Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Jess
It had been years since I’d ridden a bike, but it only took me minutes to remember how much fun it was.
Maybe it was the craziness of the situation, or the fact that a weight had just been lifted from my shoulders, but with every turn of the pedals, the heaviness I’d been carrying fell away. I felt wild and reckless and more like myself than I had in months.
I rode as far as I could, following the trails deeper and deeper into the forest until finally, they got narrower and less traveled.
The riding got harder, with more obstacles for me to navigate, and my muscles started to burn from the effort of the exercise. It was only then that I started to consider what I’d done and what it meant.
By now, Trevor would know I wasn’t coming and someone would have told my parents I’d run off. Hopefully, Charli, Harper, and Kat would have a chance to talk to my mom and dad to let them know I was okay.
The last thing I wanted was for them to worry. Not that they wouldn’t. After all, I’m sure it was concerning when your daughter ran out moments before her wedding.
Still.
They would understand. Just as soon as I explained everything to them.
And I would. Just not yet.
First, I needed to figure out where I was and what was next. As if to punctuate the point, thunder crashed overhead.
Perfect.
Of course, there’d be a storm on what was supposed to be my wedding day. As if I needed another sign to tell me I’d made the right decision.
I laughed at the irony.
But my laughter died on my lips as a flash of lightning streaked the sky through the trees overhead.
I might not be a backwoods survival expert, but I knew enough that hanging out in the woods during a thunderstorm was not a safe choice.
I pedaled faster, trying to decide where I should seek shelter.
The answer to my question came in the form of a tiny cabin that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. An old hunting cabin. It had to be.
I hadn’t realized I’d gone so far already, but it must be the cabin Preston told me about. I’d been hungover and fuzzy, but I remembered he’d told me it was directly behind the lodge.
Once upon a time, it was used for hunting expeditions, but now it was used for occasional backcountry overnight trips.
Perfect.
I reached the small porch, right as the sky opened up and rain started to pelt down. I left the bike under the shelter of the roof and let myself in.
There wasn’t much to it. A small bed, a table in the corner, and a wood-fired stove. The exact opposite of the honeymoon suite we’d reserved at the lodge with the plushy king-sized bed, oversized fireplace in the center of the room, and huge bathtub.
It was perfect.
I stumbled inside, my legs like rubber after so much exercise. I collapsed on the bare mattress right as the tears started to flow.
The build-up of emotion and stress overwhelmed me, and I let myself cry in big, gut-wrenching, ugly sobs. I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life by running out on that wedding. At least financially speaking. But for every other reason, it was the right decision.
I had no idea how I was going to explain to my parents that I’d lost all their money, but the one thing I did know was that I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to them and making sure they got the retirement they deserved.
For the moment, relief washed over me that I’d just dodged a bullet.
How had I come so close to making the biggest mistake of my life? How had I let it get so far? How had I forgotten who I was?
I sobbed my way through all the questions until the only thing left was the answer. It didn’t matter how I had let it happen. The only thing that mattered was that I’d stopped it before it had gone too far. I’d made the right choice.
I’d chosen myself.
And right or wrong, for the first time, that didn’t feel like abandoning anyone else.
I’d figure out the money.
I’d figure out the rest.
I wiped my face with the heel of my hand, wondering how badly I’d smeared the makeup that Kat had so painstakingly applied. Not that it mattered.
I laughed a little at the idea that anyone would care about my makeup now, as I sat up on the bed, listening to the rain pound against the old metal roof. Every part of my body ached, but I embraced the sensation in every way.
The door creaked open.
I sucked in a sharp breath and scrambled to my feet just as a very wet and muddy puppy barreled inside, shaking himself like he owned the place.
“Summit! Don’t—ah, shit.”
Preston followed him inside a moment later, water dripping off his jacket, his hair plastered to his head. He stopped short when he saw me.
“What the—” He cut himself off. “Jess?”
Preston
For a split second, I thought maybe I was imagining it, or I’d stumbled into the wrong cabin. But there were no other cabins.
But then why was Jess Anderson sitting on the bed of my old hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere, wearing some sort of white, sparkly sweatsuit?
I stopped short just inside the door as Summit skidded across the floor, shaking muddy rainwater all over the place for the second time before running straight toward her.
“Dammit, Summit. Down.”
But it was too late. The muddy puppy had already jumped up on Jess, happy to see his friend, and left muddy paw prints on the front of her pants.
Quickly, I dropped the load of wood next to the stove and grabbed for the puppy’s collar, trying to yank him away from Jess, who didn’t look like she was in a hurry to get rid of him. “Sorry,” I muttered. “He’s still not fully trained.”
“He’s fine. I’m happy to see him.”
She looked up, her eyes meeting mine.
“He’s obviously pretty happy to see you, too.” My words were laced with the unasked question. “But he’s also probably pretty surprised to see you.”
“He is? Or you are?”
“Both,” I admitted and shrugged out of my wet coat. “You are the last person I expected to run into today, let alone way the hell out here.”
She shrugged, but didn’t offer me anything more.
I took in her carefully curled hair, some of the locks falling out of the pins, framing her face.
She was more done up than she normally was.
The mascara had smeared a little around her eyes like she’d been crying, but she still looked stunning.
Even with all that makeup she didn’t need.
For the first time, I noticed the bedazzled word bride on the front of her jacket.
“So,” I said, when it was clear that she wasn’t going to offer up any kind of explanation. “Is this some kind of new trend?” I waved a hand up and down to encompass her outfit.
She tipped her head and pressed her lips together.
“It’s quite fancy,” I said. “But maybe not very practical for mountain biking. I assume that’s your bike I saw out there.”
She shrugged. “I borrowed it.”
I lifted a brow. “Borrowed?”
“I ran out on my wedding.”
“Yeah. I gathered.”
“I didn’t know where to go,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I actually didn’t even know I was coming here until I saw it. I just started riding and—”
“On the stolen bike.”
“Borrowed,” she said with a little smile.
It was the first smile she’d given me, and I had to imagine that after the day she’d no doubt had, it was probably the first one.
“I’m going to return it. I just needed to…” She blew out a breath and let her shoulders slump.
“I’m glad you left.” The words fell in the silence between us for a beat before she looked up again.
“Me too.”
There was nothing else to say, not right away anyway, so I crouched in front of the wood stove and worked to get it lit.
It had been a while since anyone had been out here, and probably even longer since the stove had been used, but thankfully, it wasn’t clogged up with soot or random animal nests, and it didn’t take long to get a fire going and for the room to warm up.
With the storm raging outside and the rain pummeling the tin roof, it was no doubt going to get cold in the little cabin. And even though Brody thought I was taking half the store inventory, I really didn’t have much in the way of supplies.
I’d make it work.
I took a few extra moments fussing with the fire before turning back to Jess. I still couldn’t believe she was sitting there. It was my first experience with a runaway bride, and I had no idea how I was supposed to react.
Finally, I exhaled, put my hands on my knees, and stood.
She was still sitting on the bed when I turned around. All her attention was now on Summit, who had joined her and had flopped his fluffy, still-wet head in her lap. I watched the gentle way she stroked his fur and scratched behind his ears, the small smile still on her lips.
“You look different,” I said after a moment.
“It’s not every day I’m dressed like a bride.” She laughed. “Well, half a bride anyway. I don’t suppose many actual brides wear a velour jogging suit down the aisle.”
“No.” I chuckled. “Not that I’ve seen anyway.”
“And you’ve seen a lot of weddings?”
“Enough.” I shrugged. “Most of them have the bride in attendance, though.” Her smile slipped a little, and I instantly regretted my comment. “Not that I think you should actually be there,” I added quickly. “You already know how I felt about that.”
We weren’t close friends, and maybe we weren’t even really friends at all, which was why I was pretty sure I’d already overstepped whatever boundaries existed when it came to telling her what I thought about her fiancé.
Never mind the rest of the boundaries I was pretty sure I’d been getting way too close to.
“Oh, I know.”
“I should probably apologize for that,” I said. “But I’m not going to, because I stand by it. You deserve better. That’s not enough for you, Jess. You deserve so much more.”
“You know it was about more than that.”
“You said.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you deserve more.”
She’d stopped petting the dog and stared at me, her expression unreadable.
“I’m sorry,” I said when the silence became too much.