Chapter 6
Bella
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch or your eggs before they’re laid.”
~ Papa Duke
I sucked in a hiss through my clenched teeth as I tugged a brush through my wet, knotted hair. I’d been back in Texas for less than twelve hours and already the humidity was wreaking havoc on my naturally curly hair. I may miss a lot of things about the South, but the moisture in the air was not one of them.
Tomorrow, first thing, I needed to head down to the drugstore and get some detangler. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror I thought I might want to add concealer to that list. I’d spent an extra few minutes scrubbing my face after my shower because I’d thought the dark circles under my eyes was mascara. Turned out, it wasn’t. My skin was red from irritation before I realized that my raccoon-look was man-made not store bought.
Sleep hadn’t been my friend since these most recent curve balls life had thrown me. I’d spent a day or so wallowing in self-pity, but that party had been short. The good news was that Owen had never actually adopted Sadie. He always said that he was going to, but he never did. He told me that he wasn’t going to ask for shared custody but he also wouldn’t be paying child support, which was fine by me.
I also wouldn’t be getting any alimony since I’d signed an ironclad, clear cut pre-nup. All of Owen’s assets, the house, the luxury cars, and the money were his. I’d walked into this marriage with nothing except a car and a baby girl and that’s exactly how I was walking out of it.
Owen always wanted a traditional home, so he worked and I stayed home for most of our marriage. However, I’d always been aware that something like this could happen and I’d hated the fact that I was totally dependent on Owen, which is why I’d insisted on completing my degree in cosmetology.
Now, with a degree and one year experience, I had something to protect Sadie and me. With the way my life had gone there was no way I was going to leave that to chance. Still, this entire thing felt like the rug was being pulled out from under me.
Since Owen had informed me that he was “in love” and it wasn’t with me, my mind hadn’t turned off. It was running constantly like a ticker at the bottom of a news report. No matter what I was thinking, bullet points would continuously scroll by.
Why did this come so out of the blue?
Shouldn’t I have seen this coming?
Where were Sadie and I going to live?
What was I going to do for work?
How was I going to support us?
Was Sadie going to be traumatized?
Did I need to start a separate savings account for therapy and college?
I’d managed to put together a short-term plan. Thankfully, Owen’s parents were sweet, loving people who considered Sadie their grandchild, even though she wasn’t blood. When they’d heard what happened, they’d reached out and asked if Sadie and I would like to come live with them.
As generous and caring as the gesture was, I knew there was no way I could take them up on it. I couldn’t live with Owen’s parents, at least not indefinitely. But, I had asked if Sadie could come spend the summer with them so I could get my affairs in order. I packed what we needed for the short-term leaving the rest to pick up when we got settled. I’d driven Sadie to Valentine Bay along the Oregon coast to stay with her grandparents for the summer and then headed straight down to Wishing Well.
Since inheriting Papa Duke’s property seven years ago, I’d never thought that I would actually live there. When he passed, I’d been at the Children’s Hospital with Sadie. She was in the ICU and ended up being there for over a month. I’d hired Jan Jenson to manage the property and put the entire thing out of my mind.
I placed the brush on the counter and switched off the bathroom light. The floors squeaked beneath my feet as I walked down the hallway towards the “daisy room”, which had always been my preferred room whenever I’d come to visit. Its walls were covered in daisy wallpaper and it always felt so inviting and cheery. Just being in that room made me happy.
Once Papa Duke had moved into the nursing home, I used to sneak in this house using my dad’s key and I’d go lay on the bed and stare out the window. Sometimes Colton would join me. It was the room I’d lost my virginity in and thus the room my ladybug was conceived in, surrounded by daisies. I smiled. Ladybug and daises…it was fitting.
Earlier today, I’d thrown my bags in it, but I hadn’t taken the time to look around. Now, as I flipped on the light, I was surprised at how small it seemed. It was still in good shape, thanks to Jan. She’d done an incredible job maintaining the entire property. I grinned as I traced the petals of one of the daisies on the wall. I had made it a stipulation that anyone leasing the property wasn’t allowed to remove or cover up this wallpaper. I had no problem with them painting other rooms, but not this one.
A knock echoed through the large house. It came from the kitchen door, not the front door and I knew exactly who it was. I closed my eyes and didn’t move. If I just ignored Colton maybe he’d go away.
For all he knew, I was already in bed fast asleep. It had been hard enough to face Colton with my war paint, red dress, and wedding ring. I looked down at the tank top and cutoff shorts I’d thrown on after my shower.
A soft wind blew outside the window and the tree branch hit the glass, causing me to jump. My eyes shot up, expecting to see Colton climbing through the open window, something he hadn’t done since we were in middle school. He wasn’t there, and I was disappointed. I pivoted on my heels and left the room without any conscious thought. My body felt like a marionette being operated by a puppet master.
“Don’t do it,” I whispered under my breath as I reached the back staircase.
Great, now I’m talking to myself. Maybe I’ve really lost it this time.
Another knock sounded and my feet began moving down the stairs. When I hit the last step I saw Colton through the square of glass in the door, illuminated by the back porch light that was now sensor activated. I was hidden by the shadows of the stairwell and I took a moment to admire the man he’d grown into.
At the reception I’d been so busy trying not to be affected by him and so overwhelmed by seeing him again that I hadn’t let myself really take in the small differences that weren’t visible on a television screen.
He’d aged well. Really well. When he was around twelve he’d hit a growth spurt that had left him tall and skinny, earning him the nickname String Bean. By the time he’d turned fifteen he’d added some muscle to his frame, he’d still been long and lean, but with a more athletic build.
Now…now he was a man. He’d grown at least an inch since I’d said goodbye to the boy at the bus stop in Parish Creek that cold December day. His years working the ranch showed. Even through his dress shirt I could see that he was farm strong. His shoulders were broad. His neck was thick. He was imposing in stature.
The boyish charm of his All-American, schoolboy face was gone and replaced by rugged sexiness. His square jaw, angular cheekbones, sun-kissed complexion and close-to-perfectly symmetrical face might’ve been what made him such a successful TV personality, but to me the real oh-my-lord-fan-myself attributes had always been his lips and eyes, and thankfully, or unfortunately for me, they were still the same.
His eyes were hazel and changed shades depending on his mood or what he was wearing. Tonight they were the same color as the champagne that had been flowing. A light honey with tiny specks of gold scattered through with a deep espresso ring as an outline, surrounded by dark lashes that I’d always maintained were wasted on a male.
And those lips. It might seem odd to describe a man’s lips as pretty but they were. His top lip was thinner than the bottom and both were smooth and soft. I had personal experience to draw from, but before his lips had ever touched mine I knew they would be heaven. You just had to look at them and you could see the pillowy softness.
He raised his hand and knocked again. The movement and sound burst the bubble of the visual appreciation moment I was floating in. A shiver raced through me as I crossed the kitchen. The chill had nothing to do with the temperature outside and everything to do with the man on the other side of the door I was opening.
“It’s late.” I knew that I wasn’t being very hospitable, but there was no way I was going to invite this man that had put my heart through the meat grinder in for some sweet tea, no matter how good he looked.
He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, his too-tempting kissable lips parted. I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. He remained silent, looking at me like I was the only thing that existed in this entire world. Like I was his entire world.
I could feel his stare on a cellular level. Colton had always had an intensity that other boys our age hadn’t. His ability to concentrate, to fixate really, was one of his biggest strengths. When he put his mind to something, no one and nothing could distract him. Being the object of his all-consuming focus was something that, to this day, made my toes curl and my head spin.
The last thing I needed right now was toe curling and head spinning. So I snapped, “Did you need something?”
Silence. Not even a peep in response.
I tried again. “Can I help you?”
Crickets. Literally. The only answer I got to my not-so-hospitable greeting was the chirp, chirp, chirping of the nocturnal insects.
“Colton?!” I raised my voice.
He blinked twice and shut his mouth. “Sorry, you’re just…damn, I forgot how beautiful you are. You are so, damn beautiful.” He spoke as reverently as he would a prayer.
His pretty words fell on deaf ears. Unfortunately, my heart had an empty glass held up to my chest wall listening to his declaration and started doing a butterfly wing impression, fluttering rapidly in my chest. If I could I would clip its wings. My heart had no business being swept away by his flattery.
I tried to ignore the rapid flapping as I restated my earlier sentiment, without quite as much conviction as I’d originally had. “It’s late.”
“I know.” He lifted his hands and ran them through his tousled brown hair. That’s when I noticed that he’d rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up. The moonlight caught the light brown hair scattered across the sculpted muscle of his strong forearm. My mouth instantly watered at the sight.
So now my heart and salivary glands were on my traitor list.
He exhaled and dropped his arms to his sides as he earnestly explained, “I wouldn’t have bothered you like this, I wouldn’t have come over except I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Good. Is what I thought.
Bad. Is what I felt.
I wanted to ask where he was going. When he would be back? But I also wanted to tell him never to step foot on this property again and shut the door in his face.
Clearly I was conflicted.
My internal battle of wills was working against any hospitality that I’d been bred to show and I barked, “What do you want, Colton?”
He shifted weight from his left to right foot and I was struck by just how anxious he seemed. Colton had always been so self-assured. So confident. So in control. This was a side of him I’d never seen.
He cleared his throat. “I have to be on a plane tomorrow at six am. I’m doing a press tour for my show and I won’t be back for a week.”
Well, that answered that.
The urgency in his body language and voice increased with each statement he made. “I couldn’t wait a week to see you. I had to talk to you. There’s so much you need to know. So many things that need to be said…” he paused. And paused. And paused.
I waited, thinking that he was trying to gather his thoughts, maybe he was trying to choose the right words, but seconds were turning into minutes. He just kept staring at me and that kind of attention was the last thing my heart and salivary glands needed.
“You’re gonna have to use your words then, I’m a little rusty on my telepathy,” I joked.
I didn’t mean to. The last thing I wanted was for us to fall back into any of our old patterns. Colton hadn’t just been my boyfriend, my first love, he’d been my best friend. We were together from the time I was eleven until I was almost sixteen. Yes, we were kids, but five years is a long relationship no matter what age.
We did everything together. Played video games, fished, rode our bikes, bridge jumped. And no matter what we were doing, we were laughing. One time he made me laugh so hard, milk came out of my nose.
His lips split wide as his smile revealed his perfectly straight, white teeth. Colton’s sexy smile caused the effect of the fluttering in my chest to ramp up to kick-drum thudding.
“Damn, I’ve missed you,” he said under his breath as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’ve thought about this moment for so many years, I’ve thought about what I would do, what I would say, and now I’m just…I have no idea…I can’t seem to…”
Seeing him so vulnerable, so lost and uncertain had every nurturing instinct in me screaming to tell him that everything was okay and that he didn’t need to say anything. But, I told those instincts to sit down and shut up. “What do you want, Colton? I’m tired.”
“I want to tell you that I’m sorry. God, you don’t know how sorry I am, Bella.” He took a small step towards me, his hands reaching for me.
A constricting feeling wrapped around my chest and I took a step back and crossed my arms. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to protect myself physically or emotionally, probably both.
He stopped immediately and his hands fell to his sides. I could see the pain that my reaction had once again caused him. And once again I couldn’t help but think good and this time there was no bad about it.
If it made him sad or upset or hurt to face the consequences of his actions, so be it. I’d certainly been facing the consequences of my actions these past twelve years. He may wish that we could be like we used to be, but I wasn’t the same person as I was then. He’d made sure of that.
“I don’t want to do this out here…can I come in?”
Yes. I wanted him to come in. I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and tell me how sorry he was for hurting me. I wanted him to kiss away the years and all the pain and tell me that I wasn’t crazy, that what we’d shared was real. And if it were just me that he’d abandoned, then I probably would have. But it wasn’t.
My head was shaking and I forced myself to say, “No, you can’t.”
“Bella, please,” he begged. “I just want to talk, I want to tell you how sorry I am, how much I’ve missed you. How I haven’t gone a day without—”
“What’s the show about?” I asked knowing full well what it was about but I couldn’t hear the things he was saying. They weren’t real. I needed to pull myself back to reality.
“What?” His head drew back.
I straightened so I stood taller, maybe only a quarter of an inch, but every tiny bit helped. “You said that you have a new show starting next week. What’s it about?”
His eyes narrowed and I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was doing.
When we were together, Colton always called me on things and I did the same to him. We challenged each other. We were honest and didn’t sugarcoat things. We might’ve only been teenagers but our relationship had been deeper than most adult relationships I’d witnessed.
“Why?” He shook his head. “What does that have to do with…?”
I had a feeling he was going to say us, but then I realized that there was no us. He’d made sure of that. I stared at him, pinning him with my gaze.
His shoulders dropped, and he inhaled deeply before answering, “It’s a dating show.”
“What’s it called?”
“Claiming Colton. But it’s not…I’m only doing it to help out a friend of mine.”
My left brow rose. I had questions that I wanted to ask, but the truth was, it was none of my business. “Well, like I said, it’s late. Good luck with your show.”
He put out his hand and stopped the door before I could close it. “Will you be here when I get back?”
“It doesn’t matt—”
“Yes it does.” The intensity radiating off him was staggering. “Will you be here?”
I wanted to tell him that it was none of his business but his desperation had me nodding.
He rasped, “Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whispered.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but he dropped his hand instead and I shut the door. After clicking the lock in place I pulled the shade and turned off the porch light. When I heard the sound of his boots crossing the wooden porch planks I rested my head on the doorframe and let out a breath.
One week. I’d have one week before I saw him again and then he’d be busy with girls trying to claim him.
I was pretty sure the score was now: Bella: 3 Colton: 0
Damn.