Chapter 1
“GG, you’re supposed to drink it, not stare at it?”
I turned to the annoying asshole standing beside me, leaning on the bar looking smug. “Fuck off, Finn. I’m not in the mood for your shit today,” I swore, picking up my shot glass and throwing it back.
The gin burned my throat, and I scrunched up my face.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Finn teased as Dotti, the bartender, slid his beer across the bar.
I watched as he took a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
“Oh, Finn, I’m plenty fun. Just none you’ll enjoy,” I reminded him, elbowing him in the ribs as I slid off the barstool and grabbed my purse.
“Where are you going?” he called.
“Anywhere you’re not,” I told him, waving to Dotti and heading toward the door.
The moment I stepped outside, I regretted my shots of Patron.
The sun was still too bright, burning my eyes.
I dug through my purse and found my glasses before walking over to my car.
I unlocked it before common sense kicked in and I realized I shouldn’t be driving.
Not like this. Three shots in an hour meant there was no way I should be behind the wheel.
I closed the door again, then with a defeated sigh, dropped the keys back in my purse and started walking.
I could’ve called my sisters to come and get me, and they wouldn’t have hesitated, but I couldn’t be near people right now.
I was still too pissed off and upset and everything in between to people.
Buying the Preston house had been my dream for years, and it had just been snatched out from under me.
This morning, I’d been full of hope and excited for the next step in my life to begin.
All it took was three hours, and it was gone, and now I was left reeling.
I was completely lost and didn’t know what to do or how to feel.
This morning, I woke up before the sun and went through my Pilates workout. Then, with energy still to burn, I’d gone for a quick five-mile run, passing my dream home twice before heading back to the B&B to get started on my work for the day.
Somehow, I’d managed to keep myself busy until just after ten when Grace poked her head into the office to check on me.
After assuring her I had everything under control, I went upstairs and got ready for my meeting with the bank.
They were the ones who held my future in their hands, but I was quietly confident.
I’d already spoken to them a few times and knew I had everything they needed.
The down payment had been building in my account for years, and I had more paperwork than they could possibly ever need.
Jeremy, the bank manager, had been slow but amazing. I can’t remember how many documents I’d signed or how many times I’d answered the same questions, but an hour later when I was finally leaving, everything was in place, and within a few days my loan would be approved, and I could submit my offer.
I straightened my skirt as I sauntered out of the bank feeling like a million bucks.
After all these years, waiting and watching, it was finally time for me to buy my forever home.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love living at the B&B because I did, but it was time for me to take the next step.
And the Preston house was it. It was the home I’d always dreamt of raising my family in, and while I didn’t have the kids, the dog, or the husband yet, I could have the house.
I slid behind the wheel of my car and headed back to the B&B, but not before detouring past my future.
“What the fuck!” I’d screeched as I slammed on the brakes.
Scott James, the arrogant, entitled asshole realtor, was putting a sold sticker across the sign, and I hadn’t even put in my offer.
I parked on the street and jumped out.
“Scott?” I asked, bewilderment overwhelming me.
“Oh hey, Gabriella,” he’d replied as he collected his trash and straightened his tie.
“It’s … it’s sold?” I gasped, staring at the sign.
“Yeah. Got a great price too,” he bragged, and I’d never wanted to junk punch someone so badly.
“But … but …”
“Oh, that’s right. You were interested in buying it,” he recalled, strutting toward me. The moment he got close, I got a whiff of his cologne and wanted to vomit. It was as disgusting as he was. It was too strong, too overpowering. It smelled like he’d bathed in the stuff.
“Look, sorry you missed out, but if you snooze you lose.” He shrugged. “I’ve got a few other properties coming up if you’re interested.”
He was always looking for something. Slimy bastard.
“I’m not,” I spat angrily before stomping across the lawn and getting in my car.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting at the bar at the Dusty Boots at two in the afternoon ordering a shot.
My shoes pinched my feet as I walked home.
They were my most sensible black pumps, but they were definitely designed for looks not comfort.
I turned the corner and found myself back at the scene of my shattered dreams. I forced myself to blink, hoping and praying that when I opened my eyes, things would be different.
They weren’t. The sold sticker plastered across the front of the sign tortured me.
I dropped down into the gutter and yanked my shoes off. Between the blister on my heel and the tears rolling down my face, I was a mess.
“Not much you can do about it,” I told myself as I staggered to my feet and headed home.
The nearer I got to the B&B, the more my disappointment grew.
I had to tell Georgia and Grace I’d failed.
They’d been rooting for me so hard that I felt like I was letting them down, too.
As the B&B came into view, I took a breath and forced myself to press on.
It’d been a few hours since I found out, and I hadn’t come up with a way to make it any different.
I’d been too slow. I’d missed my chance.
Now I had to watch someone else build their family and their life in the house I’d dreamed about for as long as I could remember.
I looked down at my shoes in my hand and sighed.
I looked like I was doing the walk of shame, and it wasn’t even dark yet.
The B&B wasn’t a bad place to live. In fact, it was beautiful.
With its fresh, clean, white walls and royal blue shutters, and perfectly manicured lawns.
Flower beds I spent hours tending to overflowed with colored blossoms, and a flag fluttered proudly from the porch.
It was home, but it wasn’t my home. It was the only home I’d ever known but I wanted more.
I wanted something for myself. Somewhere to raise my family.
The Preston place had been my chance, and now, it was gone.
I trudged up the stairs and through the screen door, dropping my shoes in a basket before rounding the corner into the sitting room, only to be almost deafened.
“Congratulations!”
Grace and Georgia had outdone themselves. They were each holding a glass of champagne, the bottle in a bucket on the table. There was a gold foil banner hanging from the curtains and oversized balloon keys.
“We’re so proud of you, Gabriella,” Grace started, and I felt my throat closing up. How was I supposed to tell them that I failed? “You had a dream and you sacrificed and worked so hard and now it’s yours.”
“No, it’s not,” I choked out.
“What was that?” Georgia asked, stepping forward.
“I didn’t get it,” I repeated the words, tasting just as bitter hours after the fact as they did when I first found out.
“You didn’t get the loan? But I thought …” Grace started.
“I got the loan. Well, I will. Jeremy said everything was fine,” I confirmed, staring at the ground.
I didn’t want to meet their eye. The last thing I wanted to see was the disappointment reflected there. Mine was heavy enough. I couldn’t think of anything worse than seeing theirs.
“Then what the fuck?” Georgia snapped, and I snorted. If there was one thing I could count on it was Georgia getting pissed off for me.
I huffed out a sigh, picked up the bottle of bubbles, and flopped onto the couch.
When I set my feet on the coffee table, I caught the look my sisters exchanged.
I was usually the one scolding them for putting their feet on the furniture, and here I was doing just that.
Right now, though, I didn’t have it in me to give a fuck.
Tomorrow I’d pick myself up and keep going, but today, today I was going to wallow. Drink and wallow.
I took a glug of champagne straight from the bottle. My head was going to hurt tomorrow, but that was future Gabriella’s problem.
“I was too late.” I shrugged as I took another mouthful.
“Too late for what?” Grace asked, sitting next to me and taking the bottle. Party pooper.
“Scott had already sold it,” I admitted.
“To who?” Georgia practically screeched.
I reached for the bottle, but Grace moved it out of reach. “No idea. When I went there, he was putting the sold sticker on the sign.”
“That fucker,” Georgia spat.
“So, I hope you haven’t rented out my room cause I’m gonna need it,” I admitted, feeling my eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, Ellie,” Grace cooed, squatting down in front of me and grabbing my hands. Behind me, Georgia shifted and leaned over the back of the couch, hugging me awkwardly.
“This is always your home,” Georgia promised, and while I knew in my heart she meant well, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Or in this case, the words that started the waterfall of tears I couldn’t avoid.
I knew I was lucky to have such a beautiful home, but right now, I needed time to mourn what might have been.
Mourn the dreams I’d had and try to find a new one.
“Thanks,” I murmured miserably.
When Grace handed me the bottle, I knew she felt sorry for me. But I wasn’t complaining. I was going to drown my sorrows in this bottle, grab a box of goldfish from my secret stash, and then hide away in my room. Tomorrow was another day, and the first in a new direction for me.
***
My head hurt like a bitch, and it was too bright, but it was my own fault. It wasn’t like I could blame anyone. After spending hours eating a family bag of goldfish and scrolling on my phone, I’d slept fitfully and woken early.
After a quick shower, I changed into my workout gear and snuck out of the house before anyone had a chance to ask me how I was doing.
It wasn’t that I was trying to avoid them because they cared, I wanted to keep my distance because I knew they’d ask questions I didn’t have the answers to.
Am I okay? How the hell would I know? What am I going to do now? No fucking idea.
I settled my glasses over my eyes and started down the driveway. I had to go pick up my car and some fresh air would help my lingering headache.
Taking the long way, I headed down the well-worn path that ran along the edge of Wattle Creek. The water bubbled, birds chirped cheerily, and somewhere a dog barked. Underfoot, the first of the fall leaves crunched. But there were no people in sight. Something I was grateful for.
Ten minutes into my walk, I started to feel a bit better. Brushing off the hangover, I broke into a jog as I rounded the corner. I was skirting around the edge of the town on my way back toward Dusty Boots.
By the time I saw my car, I was panting and had sweat dripping from my forehead and running down my spine. I was sticky and sweaty and gross, but better. Clearer-headed somehow. Maybe I should’ve drowned my sorrows in endorphins instead of alcohol, and I wouldn’t have felt as shitty to begin with.
I took my car key from my sock and unlocked it before spying the Clever Cookie. For the last few years I’d saved every penny, refusing to splurge on something I could make at home, but things were different now and an iced vanilla latte sounded like heaven.
I spied Morgan putting out the sign and relocked my car.
I grabbed my icy treat before heading back to the B&B. Today was my day off, but since I didn’t have anything better to do, I might as well make myself useful. Besides, those leaves weren’t going to rake themselves.
I don’t know what possessed me to drive by the Preston place, but I couldn’t help it. It was like I was a sucker for punishment. I knew I was torturing myself, and I had absolutely no good reason.
As I made my way down the street at barely a snail’s pace, I spotted a truck parked in the driveway.
I slammed on my brakes, grateful for my seatbelt for stopping me from catapulting myself through the windshield.
“What the actual fuck?” I swore as I shoved my car into park and leaped out.
With frustration, disappointment, and fury driving me, I stomped up the driveway ready to tear someone a new one. I was known as the calm Hamilton sister. Georgia was fiery and Grace was flighty. Me, I was calm, collected, and poised. Well, not fucking today.
I went to grab the door handle when it opened and someone stepped out, settling their dirty, worn baseball cap on their head. Backward. Like they were still fifteen.
“Gabriella, what a lovely surprise,” his rich, deep voice greeted me, and I’d never wanted to wrap my hands around a guys neck more.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I spat angrily with my hands on my hips as his eyes raked up and down the length of my body.
“Renovating,” he answered with a grin.