Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Preston
It took Summit and me most of the morning to hike out of the trails and back to town. I could have blamed it on the mud from the rainstorm, but it wasn’t the muddy conditions that slowed me down. It was my thoughts causing my feet to drag.
I replayed every moment from the night before with Jess and how good it had felt to have her in my arms. How right it had been to kiss her. To hold her and touch her and make her feel good. The sound of my name on her lips when she cried out.
But then there was the sharp contrast of the morning, where she thanked me for being there for her. As if that’s all it had been. A friendly helping hand from one friend to another.
Oh, you ran away from the altar and you’re having a bad day? Here, let me give you so many orgasms that you can’t think straight. That ought to help.
Fuck me.
I know I’d agreed to only one night, a one-time thing, but how on earth was I going to be able to walk away from that? From her? And pretend it was nothing?
The puppy must have picked up on my mood as we walked, or maybe he, too, was feeling the absence of Jess. He dragged behind me, needing almost constant encouragement to keep hiking. I couldn’t blame the pup; I would have sat down on the path and given up too, if it had been an option.
By the time we got back to the plaza, we were both wrung out and ready for a nap. I stopped by the shop long enough to drop the gear I’d borrowed. Thankfully, Brody wasn’t working. I don’t know if I could have dealt with him right then.
No doubt the runaway bride was the only thing anyone in town was talking about. I was a terrible liar, and the last thing either of us needed was for anyone to find out that we’d been together. No matter how badly I wanted to shout it from the rooftop.
And I did.
Because it had been more than just one night for me.
A lot more.
Not that I could ever tell her that. I wasn’t a total asshole, ready to pile even more on her shoulders.
What I really needed to do was take Summit home, have a hot shower, a cold beer, and forget about everything for a little—
“Uncle Pres!”
I froze. There was only one person who used my favorite name. Uncle. I spun around to see Quinn. She dropped to her knees to pull Summit, who, all of a sudden, was full of energy again, into her arms.
“Hey, kiddo.”
She looked up at me. “It’s a nice day for ice cream, don’t you think?”
“Is that your way of asking me to buy you an ice cream?” I laughed. “Because I will. In fact, an ice cream sounds like exactly what I need right now.”
We crossed the plaza to the Sugar Shack, leaving Summit tied to a tree out front. Most of the shops were puppy friendly, but I was pretty sure I’d be pushing my luck with Craig Carlson by taking the dog inside. “We’ll be back, little guy.”
Summit didn’t appear fazed, as he curled up and plunked his head down on his already massive paws before we even slipped inside.
We were back outside with our cones and a bowl of water for Summit a few minutes later.
“So, where’ve you been?” she asked between bites of her treat. “I didn’t see you yesterday.”
“See me—oh.”
“At the wedding.” She looked up at me incredulously. “It was crazy. I can’t believe you missed it. Please tell me you heard what happened?”
I really didn’t want to lie to my niece. But I didn’t know how much to give away. “I’ve heard a bit.” I shrugged casually.
“She didn’t show up,” Quinn said, clearly not noticing my reluctance to talk. “Like, at all.” She stared at me, waiting for a reaction. “Her own wedding. Can you believe it?”
I could.
“So brave.”
“Brave?”
“Totally.” Quinn got to her feet. “I mean, obviously, she doesn’t love him. And I don’t think anyone should marry someone they don’t love. That seems…sad.”
I studied her. “You’ve given this some thought.”
“Everyone was talking about it.” She shrugged. “But nobody said that part out loud.”
We sat in silence for a beat, Summit’s tail thumping against the bench.
“Do you believe in love?” she asked suddenly.
Never in my life had I been asked so much about love as I had in the last few weeks. I wasn’t sure I was a fan of the conversation.
But this time I didn’t hesitate with my answer. “Yeah. I do.”
“It all seems so dramatic and over the top.” She rolled her eyes and licked her cone.
“It doesn’t have to be.” I shrugged. “In fact, maybe it’s not supposed to be.” I felt her eyes on me, but I continued. “Maybe it’s supposed to be easy. Like you don’t have to force it.”
She nodded thoughtfully, accepting my thoughts before firing the next question at me. “Have you ever been in love?”
The ice cream slid down my throat with an uncomfortable icy burn.
Had I been in love?
Was obsessively thinking about someone and wanting the best for them, love?
Was missing someone when they weren’t around, love?
Was constantly imagining ways to make that person smile, love?
Was the idea of that person being with someone else making you crazy, love?
Was I in love?
Oh, fuck.
“Well?” Quinn nudged me. “Have you, Uncle Pres?”
“I…well…no,” I lied. “I don’t think I have.”
“Huh.” She looked at me for a moment, really looked at me. “Then why do you look like someone just took it away from you?”
I swallowed hard.
Quinn shrugged and took another bite of her ice cream. “Just wondering.”
Summit nudged my leg, whining softly like he was wondering, too.
Thankfully, the conversation shifted to much safer topics, and when Quinn finished the last bites of her ice cream, she gave me a hug, thanked me, and took off toward the bookstore, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stayed where I was for a few minutes, taking my time finishing my own cone. The plaza hummed around me. Doors opening, voices carrying, laughter from someone I couldn’t see, a baby crying under the gazebo.
I watched a couple cross the plaza hand in hand, barely noticing anyone else around them.
That was the thing, wasn’t it?
You didn’t notice when it happened.
You just looked up one day and realized someone had taken up space where there hadn’t been any before.
I thought of Jess—her laugh, the way she’d fit against me like she belonged there, the look in her eyes when she finally let herself stop running.
This wasn’t lust.
It wasn’t convenience.
And it sure as hell wasn’t a one-night mistake.
I swallowed hard.
Yeah.
This was a problem.
Jess
“Come in,” I called out, but Trevor was already walking in.
“Jess! What the—”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Thank you for asking.” I leaned back into the couch.
His face softened for a fraction of a second. “I’m glad to hear it.” He blew out a breath. “I was worried.”
“Were you?” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the need to defend myself in some way. “Or were you worried about how it looked?”
He crossed the floor toward me, but didn’t sit. Instead, he paced across the living room. “Did you think about that for one second? About how I had to explain to all our guests why you ran off from our wedding? About what it would mean for—”
“The development,” I finished for him. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
He dropped his arms to his side and gave me an exasperated look. “You know it is, Jess. That wasn’t a secret. We talked about this.”
“Did we?”
I was being argumentative, but I couldn’t bring myself to be anything but.
“You disappeared on our wedding day,” he said. “You don’t get to be casual about that.”
“I’m not,” I replied. “I’m being calm.”
“And are you being calm about the contracts you walked away from, too?”
I swallowed hard and waited.
He let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through his hair. Normally so neatly groomed, it stood out at all angles. He looked tired and irritated. He did not look heartbroken. Not that I’d expected him to.
His jaw flexed.
“I had to stand there and answer questions that I had no answers for,” he continued, his voice rising. “From your parents, the vendors. All the people who drove in from the city.”
“You mean, the investors?”
A low growl rumbled from his throat. He turned away from me. When he faced me again, I could tell he was working hard to keep himself in check. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to try to smooth things over while everyone is trying to pretend that I haven’t just been completely humiliated?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“No,” he said cooly. “You didn’t ask me anything. That’s the whole problem.”
I took a sip of my coffee, more to give myself something to do than anything else. “I shouldn’t have run out the way I did,” I said. “But I did try to talk to you about all of this before.”
“And you agreed to the wedding,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “I told you what it would mean for your investment. And it’s not just your investment, Jess.”
I didn’t need the reminder.
I shook my head. “I couldn’t go through with it,” I said slowly. “I couldn’t keep pretending it was something it wasn’t.”
Trevor studied me for a long moment, then nodded once. “Fine,” he said. “If you can’t pretend, we need to talk about what happens next.”
There it was.
I’d been waiting for that. There was no doubt that he already had multiple contingency plans in mind.
“I’m not marrying you.”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “I got that. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to burn everything down just because you got cold feet.”
“It wasn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He was so cold and controlled, I had a hard time reconciling him to the man I’d met and fallen for once upon a time. I’d been so naive. So foolish to think that his love bombing and smooth, practiced lines were anything but an act.
“We might still be able to save it,” he continued. “I convinced the investors not to make any hasty decisions. We just need to manage the spin on this.”
Of course, he’d put a spin on it. For all the posturing he’d done, his money was tied up in this, too.
“So what are you saying?”
“Your name is still attached to this thing,” Trevor said. “And your money. It has to go through. And for now, you’re a big part of making that happen.”
My head started to throb from the effort of the conversation. I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled slowly as Trevor continued.
“We’ll keep things amicable,” he said. “Publicly, we say we realized we weren’t compatible before making a mistake,” he said. “We can keep it clean, mutual, and responsible.”
How convenient, I thought, but didn’t bother saying out loud. The easiest way to be done with this conversation was not to provoke him any further than I already had.
Instead, I nodded.
“Good. So we’ll move forward with the project as planned then.
Your next committee meeting is coming up.
Make sure the committee decides to recommend that the project go through, and everything will be fine as long as we present a unified front.
Remember, the investors like the whole community angle. ”
“I thought they liked the whole small-town girl falls for—”
“Spin, remember?”
I glared at him, trying to reconcile this calm, detached man with the one who’d once flooded my phone with attention and promises and declarations of love.
“So, that’s it?”
“Should there be more?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said quietly. “I guess not.”
“Look, Jess.” He exhaled slowly. “I know this probably seems a little…”
“Cold?”
“I was going to say controlled.”
I shrugged.
“The reality is, we’re both tied to this, and if we’re going to salvage it, we need to be a unified front.”
I blew out a breath.
“You signed contracts,” he said calmly. “You’ve already made this harder than it needed to be. You’ve had your childish dramatics; now it’s time to grow up. If this project falls apart, it doesn’t just hurt me. It hurts you. Professionally and financially.”
Already moving for the door, he didn’t wait for my reply; it didn’t matter. He was right and he knew it.
“And Jess?” He paused, his hand on the door handle. “Given where a lot of your investment came from,” he continued, “I’d think very carefully before making any more emotional decisions.”
There it was. The quiet threat wrapped up in reason. Very on brand for Trevor.
The door shut behind him before I could respond.
I sat there for a long time, my coffee growing cold in my mug as the weight of his words settled over me.
My phone buzzed softly on the coffee table. I looked down, my chest tightening when I saw Preston’s name.
Preston:
I’m glad you got home okay.
I smiled, surprised by the flicker of disappointment that he hadn’t said more. Although I’m not sure what I was expecting.
Before I set my phone down, another text came through.
I’m always here if you need me.
I held the phone for a moment longer than necessary, my thumb hovering over the screen before I finally set it down without responding.
It didn’t mean anything. We’d said one night. We were friends. He’d helped me out when I needed it, nothing more.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder whether it did mean something. Or whether it could.
I shook the thought away and stood, pushing myself into motion.
I still had more calls to make and more explanations to hand out.
Some things were easier not to examine too closely.
For now.