There were a lot of things that had happened in my life that I hadn’t had any control over. I had no control over my dad’s death when I was fourteen. Or my mom drowning her sorrows in drugs and alcohol afterwards. Or being sent to live with an aunt I’d barely known at fifteen. Or the love of my life breaking my heart. Or my aunt developing dementia within months of my arrival. Or my child being born with health issues. Or my husband leaving me for a newer model.
But this was one thing I could control. I wasn’t sure if Colton knew that I was coming because the RSVP card only had a yes or no box and a line to write a number of guests attending. A lot of people that got married in Wishing Well didn’t bother with seating charts, opting instead for a buffet and open seating.
“You can do this,” I breathed to myself as I got out of my car. “You have to do this.”
Just put one foot in front of the other. I instructed myself as I stood beside my driver’s side door and stared at the walkway that led to what felt like my execution.
I managed to get some forward momentum, but my legs were shaking more and more with each step that I took. Each step that carried me closer to the moment that I’d been both dreading and anticipating for over a decade. The moment I wasn’t sure I’d ever experience.
The doors opened again and I went full statue. I didn’t breathe, twitch or blink until I saw that it wasn’t him. It was a pretty, young woman that I didn’t recognize. Which didn’t mean anything because I hadn’t been here in so many years, but it did feel a little odd.
Growing up here, everyone knew everyone. There wasn’t a stranger in town. If a new person moved in or visited they might as well have had a neon sign pointing at them that blinked outsider. They stuck out like a sore thumb.
Now I’m the outsider, I thought as I used the woman as an excuse to prolong the inevitable. She was on the phone with her back to me, and therefore unaware that she completely blocked my entrance. I didn’t want to be rude.
Sadly, my reprieve was short-lived. The call didn’t last long and as soon as she hung up she rushed back inside.
This time when the door opened I could hear the music playing and I saw the people inside dancing, talking, and laughing. I recognized the couple by the door as Sheriff Reed and his wife. They were talking to a man whose back was to me and the second my eyes fell on his broad shoulders, I gasped in recognition. The door shut just as he started walking away from them, revealing his profile.
Tears immediately sprang to my eyes. It was Colton.
My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the wooden door. I’d seen him and survived. Sure, it had only been his back and the side of his jaw, but that was enough for me to know that it wasn’t going to kill me. And, I’d been able to get the waterworks out of the way in private.
Bella: 1 Colton: 0
Yeah, I was totally keeping score.
I tilted my head up, hoping to trap the moisture in my lower lid before it escaped down my cheek and ruined my make-up. Stars dotted the night’s dark backdrop and I grew hyperaware that this was my first night under the blanket of the Texas sky in over a decade. I inhaled and let the clean, fresh Texas air fill my lungs. I wasn’t breathing to calm down or stave off hyperventilation. I was doing it to remember this moment because it hit me, for better or worse, I was home.
This was the town I was born and raised in. The town that I lost my first tooth in. The town that I had my first beer in. The town that I had my first love in.
The bad memories shouldn’t erase the good, and I could use a little good in my life right now.
I straightened my shoulders, wiped beneath my eyes and sucked in my gut, for good measure. Then, riding my newly acquired wave of confidence, I put one foot in front of the other and joined the party.
Chapter 3
Colton
“That’s the nature of unexpected things, they have a way of sneakin’ up on ya.”
~ Papa Duke
Beer. I needed a beer.
I liked Sheriff Reed, he was my best friend’s father and a great man. But, if I had to listen to him give me one more tip about things that I should do on the show, I might lose it. In the short time I’d had my very insignificant “celebrity” status, I’d noticed that more than other jobs, people thought they could chime in and give you advice about what you’re doing wrong and how you could do it better.
Right now, the good Sheriff was explaining that he thought the one thing that I was missing was humor. He thought that I needed to be funnier. He was currently listing off one-liners that I was “welcome to use” to improve my “likeability.”
I hadn’t even known that my appeal was lacking, but apparently he’d been reading message boards.
I waited for a break in the conversation and as soon as I saw my opening I jumped. “I’m going to grab a drink, can I get y’all anything?”
“Oh no, we’re fine,” Mrs. Reed answered for both of them.
“Alright, then.” I smiled. “Thanks for the advice. It’s always good to hear feedback. Get an outside perspective.”
“No worries, son.” His voice boomed. “You come see me anytime, ya hear?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded before making my escape.
As I weaved through the tables en route to the bar, I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to relieve some tension. It wasn’t Sheriff Reed’s fault that I felt like I was wound tighter than a watch. I’d been in a bad mood long before our conversation had even started.
The dark cloud that had been following me around all day, darkened even further when Mia, my “date” for the evening had shown up halfway through the reception. As glad as I’d been to see Mia my friend, I couldn’t help the disappointment that had flooded through me in seeing Mia the producer and creator of Claiming Colton. She’d texted earlier to say that she wasn’t going to make it to the wedding and she wasn’t sure if she’d make it to the reception and I’d secretly hoped that there was some problem that meant the show wasn’t going to happen. I felt shitty for wishing it, but I had.
I wanted my life back. My privacy. Normalcy. I was tired of pretending to be interested in people that in real life, I wouldn’t have spent more than five minutes with if there weren’t cameras in our face or a director telling me what to do. Nothing about reality television was real. I wanted real.
After being stopped several times by well-wishers, I made it to the bar and didn’t even bother trying to get the bartender’s attention. I just reached over and grabbed a longneck. I rationalized my behavior by telling myself that since I was paying for this open bar, it would be okay to help myself. Wrapping my finger around the lid, I twisted. Hard. Just when I heard the satisfying fizzing sound of it popping open my eyes lifted and I saw a ghost standing at the entrance of the hall.
Everything in the room—the people, the talking, the laughing, the music—all evaporated. They didn’t exist. Nothing existed except the girl I was looking at. The only noise that I heard was a sharp ringing. The only thing I saw was the only girl that I’d ever loved, wearing a red dress framed by a celestial halo glow.
Isabella Connor.
In the back of my mind, I was lucid enough to know that this wasn’t real. She was a figment of my imagination. A hallucination. A mirage. I’d been trekking through the desert of my life and she was an oasis in the distance that I knew wasn’t actually there.
I’d been stressed lately. Actually, longer than just lately, so this delusion had been a long time coming. There’d been several times that I’d wondered if I was heading towards a nervous breakdown, I just hadn’t expected it to happen at my little sister’s wedding. And I certainly hadn’t expected it to manifest itself in a vision of my ex-girlfriend.
I didn’t dare blink for fear the vision wouldn’t be there when I lifted my lids again. Like a thirsty man in the Sahara my entire body ached just looking at her. My heart. My chest. My limbs. I wanted to touch her. To hold her in my arms.
God, I might be losing my mind, but it was worth it just
to see her again, even if it was a fantasy. She was so fucking beautiful. If this was what crazy looked like, then I’d happily be strapped into a straitjacket.
“Holy shit, is that…?” Hudson Reed, my oldest friend and Sheriff Reed’s son cut through the ringing noise in my head, but his voice sounded miles away. “Is that…?”
“You see her?” I asked at the same moment he spoke her name.
“Bella?”
I didn’t dare look at Hud, still terrified that if I did the apparition would disappear.
“Yeah, I see her. She’s right there.” His voice sounded closer now and I could hear other things too. It was like someone had turned on the volume in the room.
I blinked in confusion and braved a glance in his direction but then my eyes immediately shot back towards Bella. Sure enough, she was still there. Wearing a red dress and looking like an angel sent from heaven.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“You all right, man?” I felt his hand land on my shoulder. “Do you want me to…”
There was no way I could fill in the blank and answer what I wanted Hud to do when I didn’t even know what I should do. At a complete loss I just stood there, staring. I was trying to process the fact that she was really here. Isabella Connor was back in Wishing Well. Not only that, she’d come to Cara’s wedding.
“Damn, I don’t know what,” Hud finished. “But I’m here if you need me.”
“So, I invited Bella.” Cara appeared in front of me. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think she would come. But she’s here!” She threw her hands in the air like she was saying ta-da.
“I see that.” I was surprised that I could speak.
I was vaguely aware of Hud and Cara’s friends Destiny and Harmony, who Hud was engaged to, standing beside my sister, all staring at me with varying levels of concern.
“Okay, well…” Cara started to spin on her heel. “I’m going to go say hi to her.”
“No.” I grabbed my sister’s arm as she was turning. “I’m going.”
I didn’t wait for a response, just took off walking across the room. This was one thing she couldn’t pull the it’s-my-wedding-card on. She’d made me promise to do what made me happy and this was my straight flush beating her full house.
With each stride that carried me closer to her I felt more and more…alive. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, adrenaline was exploding in me like a can of beer that had been shaken before it was popped open. Every nerve ending, every cell in my body felt raw and exposed.
Before I reached Bella, Jade Sullivan beat me to it and was pulling her into her arms.
The two of them had been best friends and as I approached I was able to hear Jade screeching, “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re really here!”
I seconded her sentiment silently.
Over Jade’s shoulder Bella’s eyes met mine for the first time. For years, I’d dreamed of what this moment would be like, would feel like, and I could’ve never guessed what the reality of it was. I’d predicted that everything I was feeling would amplify a million times, that my heart rate would triple, my already amped adrenaline would spike, and my body would reach the limits of sensory overload.
But none of that happened.
The second that I stared into the depths of her sky blue eyes, everything inside of me settled. My heart rate slowed. My adrenaline leveled out. My entire body calmed.
She was the eye in the center of my storm, just like she’d always been.
“Hi,” my voice was strong when moments ago I’d feared I would be unable to speak. Of their own accord, my lips turned up in a lop-sided grin.
Jade froze at the sound of my voice and whispered something in Bella’s ear. Bella never broke eye contact with me as she nodded and her friend squeezed her once more.
Then, spinning towards me, Jade pointed her finger in my face with a parting promise that held more than a hint of threat. “I’m watching you.”
When we were alone, or as alone as we could be in a room filled with people, Bella’s spine stiffened, her jaw set and her lips curled up in a forced smile. “Hi, Colton. It’s nice to see you again.”
My heart plummeted to the ground.
I was painfully aware that it’d been a long time since we’d seen each other. Years. And I’d suffered through every second that we’d been apart. Bella had moved on with her life. I’d seen it. When Cara graduated high school and started college I’d gone looking for her. And I’d found her. She was living in Portland with her husband and their young daughter.
Obviously, I knew that it was impossible for Bella and me to pick up where we left off, but when our eyes had met and I’d seen a connection, a warmth and familiarity there, in that moment I’d expected it to translate to her voice and body language. It hadn’t. They were both formal and distant.
Hoping to mask the hurt that her standoffishness was causing me, I smiled widely, “It’s good to see you, too. You look…”
I was truly at a loss for words. How could I possibly explain what I saw when I looked at her? What I’d always seen when I looked at her.
I fell head over heels for her on my first day of second grade when I saw her lining up to go into her kindergarten class. At the time, it seemed like an impossible age gap, my seven years to her five. But over the years my feelings for her never lessened, they intensified. By the time I was thirteen and she was eleven, I broke down and asked her to be my girlfriend. My friends gave me a hard time over the fact that I was an eighth grader and she was only in sixth, but I didn’t care. She’d already had my heart for six years and I’d waited as long as I could to act on it.
Now, as I looked at her, I still saw the most beautiful, breathtaking, stunning girl in the world. But she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman. Her cheeks were still round, but her cheekbones were just a little more defined. Her large blue eyes were just as large, and even more striking now that they were surrounded by dark, inky lashes. Her face had always been shaped like a heart, but it was definitely thinner. She looked exactly the same and completely different at the same time.
“Beautiful,” I finally whispered. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her response was short and curt. She glanced around me, her eyes darting around the room, as if she was plotting her escape plan. Her arm lifted and as she pointed past me, the diamond ring on her left hand sparkled. “I’m going to go see Cara—”
“Can we talk?” I blurted out.
It was obvious that Bella wanted to get away from me. That the last thing she wanted to do was talk to me. But I wanted, no needed, to talk to her. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say, what there even was to say. All I knew was that I was contractually obligated to get on a plane in twelve hours to go on a press junket for my dating show and even if I started talking now it didn’t seem like nearly enough time to say all the things that needed to be said.
Chapter 4
Bella
“Keep your friends close and your enemies in shootin’ range.”
~ Papa Duke
“Please. Can we talk?” Colton asked for a second time.
No!
My inner voice screamed. I wanted to do a lot of things right now with, or to, Colton. I wanted to scream at him. Hit him. Punch him. I also wanted to fall into his arms and hold him. Touch him. Kiss him. To melt into his golden eyes that had always hypnotized me.
I did not want to talk to him.
“Isn’t that what we just did?” I snapped back so fast you would think I was in a snapping turtle contest as I tried to move around him.
He stepped in front of me and held out his arm. “Wait.”
I jerked back, stopping just short of colliding against him. Our bodies weren’t in any contact, but he was so close that I could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. Without permission from my head, which would’ve vetoed this action, I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes as the scent that was uniquely Colton filled my nostrils. It was cl
ean, like soap, and earthy, like fresh cut grass and sunshine, with just the faintest hint of spice.
For a moment, I allowed the smell to pull me back to when I used to lay my head on his shoulder and tuck my head in the crook of his neck. There was a spot, right above his collarbone that I would sniff and then kiss. He liked the kissing part, I’m not sure if he ever knew about the sniffing. At the time, as a young teen, I thought that I might have a fetish. I’d heard about people with foot fetishes and I thought I might have a smell fetish. Now, I knew that’s not what it’d been. I’d just had a Colton fetish.
I knew that being back here would bring up a lot of things that I’d buried deep and there was nothing I could do about that. But I didn’t have to dwell in those memories. I forced my eyes open to detour my mind’s journey down memory lane.
Even in my heels Colton was a head taller than me, which put my eyeline directly at chest level. I stared at the buttons of his white dress shirt as my lips parted and I inhaled and exhaled through my mouth to try to limit my olfactory triggers.
Sensing that I was no longer a flight risk, Colton lowered his arm to his side and I noticed his fingers curl into a fist. The cotton material of his shirt was thin enough that I could see the dips and lines of his muscles beneath it tense.
Lord, help me. He’d truly filled out in all the right places.
“Bella?” His voice was strained. “Please?”
“Please what?” I raised my chin up and saw that his light-brown eyes were pleading even more than the words he was speaking.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Here’s fine.” No way, no how was I going to allow him to move me to a secondary location. I needed to protect myself from being kidnapped—not physically, but emotionally.
He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away from him. It was a small movement, but it saved me. If he touched me, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
When he lowered his hand, I could see that he was searching for the right thing to say. Finally he asked, “How have you been?”
Claiming Colton (Wishing Well, Texas Book 5) Page 3