“Why are you calling me, Tyson?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Hello to you too, love. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Don’t call me ‘love.’ Don’t call me period. I told you that weeks ago.”
“Come on, Felicity. Don’t be like that. We just had a stupid fight. Isn’t it time you forgave me and we worked this out?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. This man was denser than mercury.
“We will never work it out,” I said. “You fucked your assistant while we were dating. Repeatedly. And then when I found out, you had the audacity to suggest that we invite her over for a threesome.”
“I was just trying to get you to be a little more adventuresome in bed. And I only had sex with her because you were being a bitch and—”
“Yuck.” I hung up before I had to listen to another pitiful excuse. These calls were his way of blaming me for our breakup and repairing his ego. Eventually he’d get bored and stop calling, probably when he found a new woman to pursue. Whoever she was, I felt sorry for her. Tyson had undeniable charm but no moral fiber. It had taken me the better part of six months to see through his pretty façade.
Now the thought of his face made my stomach roll. The six hundred and fifty miles between him in Seattle and me in Prescott didn’t feel like enough.
It had been four days since Halloween and I had survived my first week back in Montana. It hadn’t been easy. I had spent a considerable amount of time dwelling on all things Silas and rethinking the past. It was harder than I had expected, being home. Difficult memories kept slapping me in the face and the guilt of past mistakes followed me around like a shadow.
But there was also love here.
There was family.
After my breakup with Tyson, the first person I’d called had been Mom. I’d been so mad that she didn’t have an iPhone to FaceTime, I’d gone to buy her one. But as I’d stood in line at the Apple store, realization had dawned. Phone time wasn’t good enough anymore. Infrequent visits weren’t good enough anymore. What I’d never find in Seattle was my family.
And I wanted a family.
My dad had left his behind. I’d done the same but I still had a chance to fix my mistake. Just one week in Prescott and the bonds I’d broken were starting to regrow. It would take time, there was still a long climb ahead, but I was convinced now more than ever that leaving Seattle had been the right decision.
Grabbing my keys off the motel desk, I decided to blow off work for the afternoon and go for a drive. Refamiliarizing myself with the area was just what I needed to brush off Tyson’s call.
I pulled out of the motel parking lot and turned my black Range Rover down Main Street, enjoying the charm of my hometown. Prescott was located in southwest Montana, close to Yellowstone National Park, and a lot of the town’s commerce came from tourists. Outsiders loved the quaint feel of Prescott, so business owners took care and pride in making their window displays attractive and tasteful.
Our small town had a clothing boutique, a couple of gift shops, a moderately sized sporting goods store, a few restaurants and two bars. I’d eventually miss shopping in Seattle or the city’s vast restaurant selection, but for the time being, I was content.
It only took me three minutes to cruise down Main Street, pass the community fishing pond and cross the truss bridge over the Jamison River. Then I was free, driving through the wide-open spaces like a girl in a Dixie Chicks song.
There would be no claustrophobia for me in Montana. This time of year, Seattle was almost always cloud covered. I had lived in an expensive, yet cramped downtown apartment, and between the gray skies and tall buildings, I had often felt trapped. But here, everything was open, big and blue. Even at the beginning of November, the sun shone brightly over miles and miles of golden plains. In the distance, the indigo mountains stood tall.
The rustic scenery may have been rough for some, but for me it was soothing.
It was home.
After an hour of driving nowhere, I came back to town and swung into Maple’s for coffee.
“Felicity?”
I turned toward the gasp and froze three steps away from the counter. Sitting at a small table was a former classmate, and not just any classmate, but Khloe.
Just my luck. My first run-in with a high school acquaintance was with the girl who had been on the receiving end of one too many of my nasty teenaged jokes.
I came unglued and walked to her table. I smiled and hoped that she knew it was genuine. “Hi, Khloe! It’s so nice to see you.”
“Uh, okay.” She focused intently on her coffee cup.
“I was just going to get a coffee. Could I buy you a refill? I’d love to catch up.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure you’re busy. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.”
My shoulders fell as my heart sank. Felicity’s Journey Home wasn’t just about rebuilding relationships with family and friends, it was also about making amends with people I’d wronged. And I owed this woman an apology.
“Please?” I asked quietly. “I’d really like to visit.”
She shrugged but didn’t say no. I hustled to the counter to place my order before she could duck out. When I sat across from her, she slid away from the table a few inches.
I took a sip of my coffee. “Having spent so many years in Seattle, I can say with authority that Maple’s coffee is better than Starbucks.”
Khloe nodded but didn’t engage with my small talk. Her posture was rigid and she wouldn’t make eye contact. I couldn’t blame her. She had every right not to trust me and look for the first opportunity to escape.
“You look great,” I said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
She didn’t respond.
How ironic was it that I had teased her about her looks? She was a knockout and time hadn’t done anything but make her prettier.
Her dark-brown hair hung in sleek panels past her shoulders. She wore the same black-rimmed glasses I had teased her about in high school. I had told her they made her look like a spinster when they actually made her look like a hot librarian, accenting her green eyes perfectly.
And I’d kill for her curves. I was long and lean, whereas she had an hourglass figure. Khloe’s curves had developed early and I’d once made a snide comment about how she should trade pizza for Pilates. Not my finest moment.
Damn it. I had been such a little brat. No wonder she looked like she was sitting on a bed of nails.
“I’ll just get right to the point,” I said. “Then you can be free of me. I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry for how I treated you in high school. There’s no excuse for my behavior. The things I said to you were horrible and I am just so, so sorry.”
Her wide eyes shot to mine. We stared at each other for a few seconds until she relaxed and looked back to the table. “Thanks,” she whispered.
I brought my coffee cup up to my lips to hide my relief. It hadn’t been easy to admit my faults and to swallow my pride, but holy hell, it had been worth it. Even if she rejected my apology, I felt better just for having made it.
Khloe surprised me by not jumping up to flee and, instead, scooting back up to the table. “Are you just here on vacation?”
“Actually, I moved back last week. It was time for me to come home. Seattle is an amazing city but it wasn’t for me anymore. I’m living out of the motel until I can get into my rental next week, but it feels good to be home. What about you? How have you been since high school?”
She gave me a sideways glance.
“What?” I asked, swiping my face. Was there foam on my lips?
“Honestly? You’re so different. Not at all the mean girl I remembered. When you moved away, I did a happy dance that I’d never have to see you again. Now you’re being nice and . . . real. It’s throwing me off.”
Was there a hole anywhere close that I could crawl into? “I’m sorry. I am completely ashamed of myself.” Did the pained expression on my face convey just how much I regretted teasing her? I hoped so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Um, can we change the subject?”
“You’ll get no objections from me.”
“Are you married?”
“Nope. You?”
She nodded. “I married Derrick Olson after college.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop a frown. Derrick had run with a rough crowd in high school and he’d had a reputation for being too physical with his girlfriends. I hadn’t known him well but he’d always given me the creeps. His stare had always been aimed at my breasts, and he’d like to invade my personal space.
Judge much, Felicity? What was my problem? I had changed since high school, so maybe Derrick had too. Maybe Khloe had seen something in him that the rest of us had missed.
“How is Derrick?” I refused to let myself be pigeonholed by past opinions.
“He’s good.”
For the next half hour, we visited and caught up on the past. She shared a few college stories with me and I told her about my job working as a consultant for a large tech firm. As we deposited our cups in the dishes bin and stepped outside, I smiled, thinking this could be the start to a new friendship. “I’d love to meet up with you again.”
“Uh, maybe.” She looked to her feet. “I don’t get out much when Derrick’s home. We just like to spend a lot of time together. He’s on a work trip today so, uh, maybe the next time he’s gone.”
Okay, weird.
If she didn’t want to have coffee with me again, she could have just been honest. She didn’t need to make up some lame excuse and blame her husband. But I didn’t hold it against her. I’d be wary of me too. One apology probably hadn’t been enough to erase all the hurt feelings I’d caused her as a kid.
“Sure, if that works best for you.” We exchanged numbers and I waved as we parted. “Call me whenever. I had fun catching up with you today.”
“Felicity?” she called before I could turn away. “I’m sorry about Wes.”
I gave her a sad smile. “Me too.” I waved again before walking to my car and climbing in. Safe behind my tinted windows, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
Hearing Wes’s name always stung. Unfortunately, now that I was back, I needed to brace because it was bound to happen often. Long ago, Wes and I had been inseparable. Wherever he’d gone, I’d followed. People didn’t talk about Felicity Cleary without talking about Wes Drummond too.
This past week, I had been assaulted by memories of the times we had spent together. Different places in town would trigger a remembrance or a feeling, and with each came the heavy weight of guilt.
I’d only been back for a week, but it felt like I had stepped back into the past. Like my Seattle life had been encapsulated in a bubble that burst the second I’d driven into Prescott. Sixteen years had passed but the memories were as fresh as yesterday.
I ignored my heavy heart and pulled out my phone to call Mom. “Are you busy? I was going to pick up my keys to the rental and check it out. Want to join me?”
“I’d love to,” she said.
“Okay. Be there soon.”
An hour later, we had done a full walk-through of my rental house. The movers had packed up my Seattle apartment and the truck was en route to Prescott. They had a stop in Spokane along the way, but by the beginning of next week, I’d be permanently home.
“Have you called the Drummonds?” Mom asked when we got back into the car.
“Not yet.” I’d been stalling on making dinner plans with them. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Jack and Annie. I just wanted to avoid the Drummond farm for a few more days. The memories from places in town had been hard to cope with. Visiting Wes’s house, a place where I’d spent countless hours with him, would be agonizing.
“Remember that time when I caught Wes trying to climb into your bedroom window? It wasn’t too long after you two started dating. You were what, a freshman?”
I smiled. “Yeah. He tried to pretend he was looking for Jess’s room but Jess had been out on a date.”
“He was always a schemer, that Wes. I used to worry that he’d get you into trouble, but he was always so careful with you.” She patted my shoulder. “I miss him. I bet you do too.”
Did I miss Wes? Yes. I hadn’t known the adult Wes, but at one point, the teenaged Wes had been my whole world. That was the Wes I missed, the one from early on. The Wes from before the lies and the drugs. The Wes that I never would have betrayed.
Mom sighed. “Such a sad ending.”
“Yeah.” On that, I wholeheartedly agreed with her.
I hadn’t really come to terms with Wes’s death. Instead, I had simply blocked it out. Blocking things out was easy in Seattle. Here, not so much. Would it help me come to terms with Wes’s death if I talked about him? If I spent time remembering the good times we’d once had together instead of dwelling on the mistakes?
Maybe it was time to come clean and finally admit what I had done.
“Mom, can I tell you something?” I trusted her to listen and keep my secrets safe.
But she didn’t answer.
“Mom?” Her eyes were fixed on something outside. “Mom?”
Still no response.
“Mom.” I reached out and shook her shoulder. “Mom!”
She couldn’t hear a word I said or feel my touch. I pulled the car into a parking lot and jogged around the hood to open her door. With both my hands on her shoulders and my face in hers, I shouted, “Noelle!”
Recognition finally dawned and she snapped back to reality. Her blank expression was replaced with confusion as she started looking around.
“Did you need to go into the flower shop?” she asked.
I turned and saw that I had parked in front of Prescott Floral. “Yeah,” I lied, my hands falling from her shoulders. “I was thinking we could get some nice flowers for Gigi.”
“Good idea. Let’s see if they have something cheerful.” She smiled and stepped out of the car.
I took a few deep breaths as we walked inside to calm my racing heart. It was the first time she’d gotten spacey since I had moved home. I’d forgotten how scary it was and how hard it was to shake her out of it, but at least I’d been with her and she hadn’t gotten hurt.
By the time we were done picking out a dozen pink roses, the adrenaline spike was gone.
“Are you doing okay?” I asked Mom as the clerk rang up our flowers.
She nodded. “I’m great. I can’t wait to see Rowen’s face when she sees these roses. She loves pink. And it’s been such a nice week with you at home.”
I smiled. “Good.”
Mom never remembered when her mind wandered and got lost, and it would only worry her if I told her she’d had an episode. Usually the only time she even knew one had happened was when she’d hurt herself. As a kid, I had quizzed her about them relentlessly, certain that she had just been pretending not to know what she’d been daydreaming about. But as I grew up, I’d realized that it hadn’t been daydreaming. She was sick.
Maybe it was time for Jess and me to take her in for new tests. We’d done it a long time ago but the doctors had told us that there wasn’t anything we could do. Our only options at the time had been to watch out for her and deal with the fallout.
But things were different now. With modern advancements in medicine, maybe there was something else we could do for Mom, like get her on some new miracle drug to keep her lucid.
At this point, anything was worth a shot, and now that I was home, I’d do whatever I could to make up for all our lost time.
I was digging into a carton of kung pao shrimp when a knock sounded on my door. I had no idea who would be visiting since everyone that would want to see me was at the farmhouse. I’d dropped Mom off with Jess and Gigi for dinner so I could catch up on work from playing hooky this afternoon. Maybe it was someone mistakenly at the wrong door?
Setting my food aside, I crossed the room and checked the peephole.
Not a mistaken visitor. Silas was on the other side of my door.
Shit. I hadn’t had enough time. I hadn’t found the courage for this confrontation yet, but I couldn’t turn him away. With one deep breath, I released the safety chain and opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hey.” We stared at each other for a moment and I tried to keep my breaths even.
Along with my nerves, the sight of his handsome face made my heart pound. With his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, his green sweater pulled tightly across his broad shoulders, hinting at what I knew were the sexy ripples and contours of his muscled arms and chest.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Sure.” He ducked his head and walked inside.
Silas stood six or seven inches taller than my five nine. I had dated men that were under six foot before, but there was just something about a guy that could loom over you. One of the things I loved best about the way Silas kissed me was that he had to tip his head down to mine first. It gave me a perfect view of his mesmerizing brown eyes.
Why was I thinking about kissing him? I was still mad at Silas from earlier in the week when he’d called our tryst a mistake. That same night he’d cheated on his girlfriend. Well . . . maybe. I had been dwelling on it for days, too chicken to call Gigi and just ask if he was really dating Maisy or if they were just friends.
But before I jumped right into an interrogation, I wanted to give him a chance to explain why he was here.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Mom’s eating at the farmhouse tonight so I ordered takeout.”
“For twelve people?”
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted and I got a bit carried away.” The TV stand was crowded with six different cartons of Chinese food, two containers of rice and a handful of fortune cookies. “Help me out,” I said, handing him a plastic fork.
I went back to my shrimp as he took the cashew chicken and sank into the upholstered guest chair in the corner.
We ate in awkward silence for a few minutes, listening to the whir of the mini fridge. We had a lot to talk about and none of the topics were particularly fun. How in the hell was I supposed to start this discussion? Luckily, I didn’t have to come up with an answer. In true Silas fashion, he cut right to the chase.
“I didn’t come here the other night expecting sex.”
I stopped swiveling and locked my eyes with his. “And tonight?”
“I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have said it was a mistake. It just threw me off and I, well, I fucked up.”
I appreciated the apology but I needed more. I needed to know if I had doomed yet another relationship.
“How exactly did you fuck up? By saying it was a mistake and pissing me off? Or by cheating on your girlfriend?”
His fork froze in midair and he stared at me for a minute before dropping it back into the white carton. “What?”
“Are you dating Maisy?” I asked quietly.
“Do you think that little of me? That I’d cheat?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted. “Please. Just tell me. Are you with Maisy?”
With one hand, he rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “No. We dated for about a month last summer but it didn’t stick. She’s just a friend.”
Relief washed over me. The worry I’d had in my heart for days vanished. It was foolish of me to have doubted his character and I cursed myself for insinuating that he’d be anything but honorable.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Seems like all we’ve done these last two years is fuck and fight. We’ve got to figure out a way to be around each other now that you’re back. I don’t want to bump into you on the street and watch you run in the other direction.”
I couldn’t agree more. “We used to be friends once. Maybe we could get back to that.”
“Friends would be good.”
Silas pulled off his faded brown baseball hat and combed his fingers through his hair. It was getting a bit long and could probably use a trim, not that I’d advocate for one. When he was on top of me, my hands loved to wander through those soft strands and grip them tight. That and his sculpted ass.
Oh, lordy. Control yourself, Felicity! We had just agreed to be friends. I had made a rule. No sex with Silas. What was wrong with me?
“Are you okay?” Silas asked.
My cheeks were flushed and I was starting to sweat. “Great. This shrimp is just really spicy,” I lied.
He dug back into his food as the awkward silence descended again. While I chewed, my eyes wandered around the room so I wouldn’t stare at the man in my guest chair.
The Fan Mountain Inn had impeccably clean and stylish rooms. I had plenty of space for my abundant luggage, and the wide desk provided a more than adequate workspace. But right now, this room was much, much too small.
Silas sat by the door while I swiveled nervously at my desk chair. Between us was the bed. The same bed where we’d had sex just a week ago. Seeing him next to it wasn’t helping me push thoughts of sex aside.
“You were jealous, weren’t you? The other day when you saw me talking to Maisy in the office.”
“What?” I said, pretending to be surprised. “I wasn’t jealous.” My declaration came out in a high-pitched squeak.
Silas smirked, trying to fight back a smile, but it was pointless. He burst out laughing, filling the room with sound as his head tipped back and he let loose.
Even though I was embarrassed he’d busted me on the jealousy thing, I couldn’t keep the corners of my mouth down. Silas’s laughter was a deep rumble, a hearty sound that could warm the coldest of souls. I hadn’t heard it nearly enough lately.
The last time I remembered hearing him laugh had been at Jess and Gigi’s wedding. We’d both had too much to drink and had found ourselves in the backseat of his truck. He’d discovered the Spanx that my satin dress required and had laughed his ass off as he tried to yank them off. That seemed like eons ago.
Silas got control of his laughter and bent forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He shook his head a few times and then lifted his eyes to mine as he smiled.
Breathtaking. He was breathtaking.
Silas’s smile transformed his face. Dimples broke across his cheeks. His eyes warmed and crinkled. Those soft lips parted, revealing his flawless white teeth.
I was a sucker for that smile and smolder. All he had to do was snap his fingers and I’d leap over the bed and crawl into his lap.
“You’re blushing, Felicity. Are you going to lie and blame it on the shrimp again?”
I shook my head and looked to my lap, embarrassed that he could read me so easily. The room went quiet as the atmosphere got heavy. The sharp contrast from moments ago sent tingles down my spine.
He was staring at me. I could feel his heated gaze, but I kept my eyes fixed firmly on my lap. If I looked up right now, I’d never be able to resist those eyes.
After an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds, Silas let out a loud breath and stood from his chair. “Got any sweet and sour?”
Phew. “Yeah.” I stood too, going to the TV to help him find the right carton.
We resumed our meal, thankfully without another heated moment. I had resisted once. Twice would have been impossible. After the Chinese had been decimated, I escorted Silas to the door, having learned one thing for certain tonight.
Making friends was hard to do.
Silas
“Good night,” Felicity said from the doorway.
“Thanks for dinner.” I waved and headed for my truck.
Friends. The word kept ringing in my ears. She wanted to be friends. How the fuck was I going to manage that?
One look at her stunning face and my pulse would race. My hands wanted nothing more than to grab her head and pull her lips to mine. My dick had been at half-mast since the moment she crossed the Jamison County line.
I certainly didn’t have that kind of reaction to any of my other friends.
But we also couldn’t keep taking jabs at one another. I hadn’t meant to insult her the other night but my mouth just kept fucking things up. At least she always had the balls to call me on my shit. I loved that about her. If I pushed, she pushed right back.
When Felicity was around, I came alive. Her passion sparked my own. Life wasn’t dull or predictable. The mundane seemed exciting.
I loved that she felt everything deeply, the good and the bad, even though she worked hard to hide it from the world. She was a master at pushing people away to avoid getting hurt. It came so naturally to her, most of the time I wondered if she even knew she was doing it.
But she couldn’t hide from me. I’d seen her true self too many times not to want her fixed permanently in my life. And, damn it, if she wanted to be friends, then I was going to try.
We had a lot of history to overcome and maybe this idea wasn’t all bad. Maybe this was the way for us to move past all the hurt.
I’d be her friend and then press for more.
Because now that she was back in Montana, I wasn’t letting her go. I’d play it slow and steady. Put in the time. But one day she’d be mine.
Just like she was always meant to be.