by Frankie Love
My grip on the wheel is painful as I back out of the space and pull out onto the road that’s going to lead me—us—home.
Jesus. I close my eyes for a beat, thinking that if I open them again, I might realize that this is all a dream. A really fucked up dream.
We’re right on the edge of town when she speaks once again. Her voice sends tingles racing through my body, it’s a sound I never thought I’d hear again but it’s as familiar to me as my own.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m as shocked as you are.”
My lips part to respond, but words fail me.
If it makes me feel any better. How could anything she’s got to say make me feel any better right now?
She’s blindsided me. Completely thrown my world into disarray once again, and all she’s done is walk through the damn airport.
“Did you plan this?” I know it’s crazy to even think it, but I need to know.
“What? No. How would that even be possible? The only thing I knew was that I was headed here. The second Holly told me where my future husband lived, I jumped at the chance.”
“Why?”
She glances over at me. I feel her stare as I focus out of the windshield, but I refuse to look at her. I can’t.
“B-because it’s my home.”
“Bullshit,” I snap, noticing her flinch out of the corner of my eye.
“Spencer, I—”
“I can’t do this now, Gabby.” As I say her name, I pull up to a stoplight and as if my body has a mind of its own, I turn to her just in time to see her entire body jolt at my use of it. “What?”
“It’s Ella,” she whispers.
“Why?”
“It just is. Just drive p-please.” Her voice cracks, her eyes pooling with tears. The sight guts me, but when I look forward, I find the light green and I have no choice but to focus on driving.
Chapter Three
Gabriella
I’m a mess as I sit in Spencer’s passenger seat watching the familiar town pass by outside the window.
A huge part of me is so relieved to be back here. I have so many memories of a happy childhood in this place, most of them with the man sitting beside me, but he’s not the boy I left behind, and the longer I think about the change in him the more I’m losing the fight with my emotions.
I don’t want to cry, but my eyes are full of unshed tears and I can barely breathe around the emotion that’s clogging my throat.
Him calling me by my old nickname doesn’t help the situation at all.
I knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable. But Gabby died not long after I left this place. My entire world was thrown into turmoil almost as soon as we touched down in New York, and I just wasn’t her anymore. Just hearing the name he’d once called me with such fondness, such love, it gutted me every time.
Then there was the other man in my life.
I push that thought aside like I always do. He doesn’t deserve a second of my time after the way he betrayed us.
Spencer does as I ask and doesn’t ask any questions, although I’m not sure if he’s doing it for me, or for him.
He’s clearly unhappy with this, and it makes me wonder if I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.
I made the decision not to tell anyone after Holly’s call. Not that I really had anyone to tell. Mom was away on a relaxing break with her new friends and she’s just about the only person in my life these days, unless I count my boss.
No one’s probably even realized I’ve left yet which is a seriously sobering thought. I wonder if I left such a tiny impression on this place when I was dragged away.
I keep my eyes trained on the outside of the car, taking in the similarities and differences of the town I love so much. I smile when we pass the Mistletoe Hardware store, the thought of Spencer’s parents fills me with joy. They were always such an inspiration. So happy, warm, loving. So many things I didn’t have in my own family home, although I didn’t realize just how bad things were until we left.
I notice that the hairdressers have a shiny new name and sign out the front and I wonder what happened to the old lady who used to run it, the bakery looks the same as ever, only with a fresh coat of paint.
Things might be up in the air with the man beside me, but I know one thing for a fact. I’m home.
My heart feels whole again just being here.
Main Street comes to an end and Spencer slows. Part of me expects him to turn left to Joy and Hank’s house like we always used to, so I’m surprised when he signals to go right.
That surprise soon turns into utter disbelief when he begins to slow a little before a house I remember all too well.
“Tell me you don’t—”
I look over at him, taking in his profile. His nose is a little crooked like it always was after one of his brothers broke it when they were kids, his lips are full and tingles erupt within me as I vividly remember how it felt to kiss him, how electric it was. His jaw is now covered with thicker, darker stubble than I remember, but it only makes his square jawline more breathtaking.
The muscles in his neck tighten at my question and his jaw pops as he must grind his teeth. That’s the only reaction I get though, because as he turns the car, he says nothing.
Dragging my eyes away, I wait to see the house I used to dream of as a kid.
It was always old and a little dilapidated. The couple who’d owned it were too old to maintain it. As the years went on, we watched it slowly fall apart but it never made it any less appealing to me.
I had visions of living in this house. Of renovating it and turning it into our family home. I could see myself on the deck writing with a dog at my feet and a steaming cup of coffee. I could picture Spencer in the huge yard cutting the grass and creating all kinds of incredible things like he always used to in the massive workshop. I could see our kids, our future, our forever.
For me, this house had it all, but it was all taken away from me with one decision by my parents.
I expect to see a better version of the old house when it appears, so I can’t help let out a little gasp of surprise when I find it as old and run down as I remember.
“Oh my god.”
Without a word, he pulls the car up out front, kills the engine, and shoulders the door open.
I’m still staring at the house when he pops the trunk and pulls my cases out.
It’s not until he’s halfway up the stairs to the wraparound porch when I come to my senses, open my own door and step out.
“You live here?” It’s probably the stupidest question I’ve ever asked in my life, but my need to hear the confirmation gets too much for me.
“What do you think?”
“Y-you bought it?”
He unlocks the front door and walks inside.
“Yes. It went to auction a few months ago. I couldn’t help myself.”
“What happened to the couple?”
“They died, Gab—fuck,” he barks, dropping my bags and lifting his hands to his hair.
“Oh.”
The two of us stand awkwardly in the hallway. Neither of us says anything and it’s only the sound of our labored breathing that can be heard.
After a few seconds, I manage to rip my eyes from Spencer’s muscular back. It might be freezing outside, but he’s still only wearing a long-sleeved Henley. It fits him perfectly and shows off the bulk that’s added to his frame over the past five years. His muscles ripple with tension, making me think things that I probably shouldn’t, especially when he’s even finding it hard to look at me right now.
I look around at the empty hallway. The wallpaper is floral and was probably once really pretty, only after all the years it’s been covering the walls, it’s faded and even missing in some places.
“I’ll show you around,” he says suddenly before marching away.
I hurry to keep up and step into the closest room behind him.
“Living room.” The decoration is similar to that of the hal
lway, and there’s only a single couch and a TV on the floor in the corner. “Dining room,” he says, his voice already a distance away telling me he’s left the room already.
“Wow,” I breathe when I take in the view out of the back windows. As I knew it did, the house sits on huge grounds with views over the snowy mountains in the distance. The sight is the exact one I’ve been dreaming about.
Excitement explodes within me as I step closer to the windows to take it all in.
Mom and I had been living in a penthouse apartment in the city, I haven’t seen a view like this in… well, five years.
“So beautiful,” I murmur.
Spencer makes some kind of unintelligible noise behind me, and I spin around to look at him.
My breath catches when our eyes connect. He wasn’t looking at the view just then. He was staring at me.
Something I remember all too well crackles between us. It was there when we were too young to understand it and it seems even after these years apart, it still exists.
His lips part like he wants to say something, and I can’t stop my eyes from dropping to them. My thighs clench with need.
Before I left, we could barely keep our hands off each other. We were utterly addicted but we never took it all the way. We were young and although we were totally in love, we’d both decided not to rush things.
But now, looking at him as a man. The stubble, the muscles, his haunted eyes. All I can think about is climbing him like a tree and discovering if he tastes the same as he did back then.
After long, excruciating seconds, he clears his throat and takes off.
“Kitchen.”
I hurry to catch up with him but come to a grinding halt when I take in the beauty before me.
“Oh my god, Spencer. Did you do this?” My eyes fly around the room, not knowing what to look at first. It’s the most stunning kitchen I think I’ve ever seen.
Marble counters, hand-carved dark wooden doors. It’s… perfect.
“Yeah,” he says like it’s nothing. “It’s all I’ve managed to do so far.”
“Spencer, it’s unbelievable.” I walk farther into the room, running my fingers over the doors that I know he’s meticulously done himself.
“It’s turned out pretty good.”
I laugh, I can’t help it. “You always were so modest.”
“You don’t know me, Ella.” He accentuates my name just to prove a point.
“Don’t I?” I ask, turning on him and holding his eyes.
Chapter Four
Spencer
The way she looks at me unnerves me. It’s like she can see past everything that’s on the surface. The anger that’s bubbling just under the skin and right down to the memories of us that I’m trying so hard to bury.
Buying this house was probably a mistake. I knew what it meant to her. I knew her dream. Hell, for a lot of years, I shared that exact dream. I could see it almost as vividly as she could.
But the moment she walked away, it shattered along with the rest of my hopes for the future.
I kept an eye on the place over the years, I’d even been called in by the old couple a time or two to do some necessary maintenance.
The first time I stepped inside, it was almost like I could feel her. It was weird. But more than that, it was addictive.
I’d missed her more than I was willing to admit, and just being inside a part of the future we’d spent years planning was too much to ignore. So when I saw it was coming up for auction, I knew I had to make it mine.
I had some inheritance from my grandparents and with a little help from my parents, I secured a loan and managed to make it mine.
I was terrified that someone else would see the potential in the place and bid more than I could afford but it seemed my luck was in on auction day because I walked away the proud owner of the house that took up so many thoughts and conversations of my childhood.
It was a mess. It still is. But I’ve got huge plans for the place. I just need the time to make them all happen.
I knew I needed to start with the kitchen if I was going to make it livable. It had been empty for a little too long when the old man ended up in a care home and the kitchen was in an awful state.
I ripped it out the first day I got the keys and started drawing up plans.
I had an entire lock-up at my builder’s yard with materials I’d been collecting for years for when I owned my own house, and I had the perfect wood for the doors.
I’m proud of what I’d achieved, but until she laid eyes on it, I don’t think I truly appreciated just how good it was. And seeing her in the middle of it… fuck. I was not prepared for that.
“I… um…” I stutter, unable to find my words while locked in her stare. “Bedrooms,” I blurt, turning around and heading for the stairs.
I collect her bags before I start climbing.
Her light footsteps follow me, and I start to wonder if I just made an even bigger mistake, although it’s not like I have some elaborate master bedroom to show my future wife.
My steps falter as those two final words slam into me.
Gabriella is going to be my wife.
It’s what I always wanted. What we always wanted. She had plans drawn up for an elaborate Christmas wedding, her dress, the centerpieces, everything. I’m not sure what I’ve got planned is quite going to do it for her. But we both signed up for this and I can’t drop out. I couldn’t bear the look on my mother’s face if I were to shatter her dream.
My five older brothers are embracing this, so I need to man up and do the same.
“Shit,” she gasps, crashing into my back. One of her small hands grip on to my side, her touch burns to the point I jump away from her.
“S-sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Bathroom,” I say, kicking open the first door, but I don’t hang around, it’s really nothing to look at. “Master bedroom,” I say, nodding toward the room I’ve been sleeping in which consists of a mattress on the floor and a single chest of drawers in the corner. “The rest are guest rooms, but it’s that one.” I nod again, across the hallway this time. “That’s got another mattress in it.”
I swallow nervously, realizing for the first time what little I have to offer my new bride. Maybe I should have at least bought one bed.
“O-okay, so w-where am I sleeping?” she asks nervously, looking between the two doors.
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, I follow her stare and find my mattress laid on the floor and an image emerges in my head of the two of us on it, limbs tangled together and getting to experience what we never got to all those years ago.
My cock swells with the thought of finally being able to make her mine, but when I glance back at her, I’m once again hit with the pain of her leaving.
There’s no way I’d ever be able to go through that again.
I’ll do the marriage thing. Get the approval we need to buy this town and keep it safe for its residents. But I can’t fall for her, not again. If she’s not serious about this and walks away again, it would probably kill me.
“Well, I sleep in here. I guess the decision is up to you.” I turn to look at her, regretting it immediately when I stare into her blue orbs that hold me captive.
“Where do you want me?”
Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I sink my teeth into it.
“Wherever you're comfortable. Excuse me, I need to…” I don’t finish my sentence, instead I bolt for the stairs.
I can’t do this.
I can’t fucking do this.
Before I know what I’m doing, the front door has slammed behind me, I’m in the car and I’ve got the engine running.
The gravel under the tires kicks up as I slam my foot on the accelerator and speed off down the driveway.
I need to get away from her. She makes me feel things I can’t allow myself to feel again.
Chapter Five
Gabriella
He’s gon
e.
Stepping away from my bags, I rush to the window in time to see his car speed off down the driveway.
What the hell?
Disappointment floods me, although I don’t know why. Spencer and I haven’t spoken since the day I left Snow Valley. Did I really think we’d have a happy reunion and continue our friendship like we never parted?
I drop my head as the weight of the decision I made to come here presses down on me.
What would have happened if it were anyone but him waiting for me? Could I have really made a life for myself and a husband here knowing that he still lived here? He’s had my heart since I was about seven-years-old. It was naïve of me to think it could work here with anyone but him.
Imagine if one of his brothers was the one waiting for me. A shudder runs down my spine at the thought.
Blowing out a breath, I turn away from the window. Staring out like a loser after the boy from my past isn’t going to get me anywhere.
I look around the sparse room, thoughts of dragging my bags in and setting up home in here fill my mind. The thought of crawling into bed with his warm body beside me, his scent filling my nose is almost too much to deny but with a sad sigh, I leave his room behind and instead take my bags to the one on the other side of the hall.
As much as I might want to show him that I’m the same girl who left, I don’t want to force him. Hell knows this situation is already weird enough.
The room opposite his looks very similar. Peeling, faded wallpaper, exposed floorboard and a window that lets the cold in from outside.
He’s got a lot of work to do here, but I can already imagine how incredible it will look once it’s all done.
I tuck my bags against one wall and unzip them, although I don’t take much out seeing as I have nowhere to put any clothes.
It makes me wonder what Spencer expected from his soon-to-be wife. I’m sure that many women out there wouldn’t embrace this like I am. I couldn’t care less about the state of this place, the fact he even owns it means more to me than I’ve even accepted yet. I’d willingly stay here if it didn’t have a roof.