I didn’t want to depend on anyone. It was easier that way. I was determined to do everything I could to make sure I would always be able to take care of myself. I’d work my ass off in school so I could get scholarships to the college of my choice where I’d major in something that would guarantee I’d be able to get a well-paying, steady job after graduating.
I was laser focused on accomplishing every goal I made for myself. I was a straight-A student. I had enough extra-curriculars under my belt to make me look appealing to any admissions board, and I’d started working as soon as I turned sixteen, squirrelling away every dime I made for the future. I had a plan, and a backup plan. Hell, I even had a backup for my backup. Everything had been going according to plan. Then I met him.
Jensen Rose blew into my life with the force of a category five hurricane and ripped my carefully constructed life to shreds. I didn’t have a choice when it came to falling in love with him, he’d made damn sure of that. He’d pursued me relentlessly, with a single-minded determination I couldn’t help but admire. He made me want more. He made me dream of a different kind of life. But worst of all, he made me hope I was enough, that I was worth sticking around for.
As it turned out, I wasn’t.
He’d given me everything I didn’t know I was missing. He made me realize how lonely and closed off my world had been. He swooped in and filled it with color and laughter. With him, the ideas for my future changed. Jensen took over my mind, leaving no room for thoughts of independence. He was all I cared about. He became my future.
Then he ripped it all away.
I’d given up everything for him, becoming dependent on him for my very happiness. But I wasn’t enough. Just like everyone else, he’d walked away. However, unlike all the others, he’d at least left me with a gift: something more precious than anything else in the world. There wasn’t much I was willing to give him credit for, but at least, thanks to him, I had my son. Brantley was the most important person in my life. I loved him with everything I had, and as much as it irked me, I couldn’t help but be thankful to Jensen for giving him to me.
It had taken every single day of the four and a half years he’d been gone for me to mend my broken heart, trying to piece it together with bits of tape and string until it was a poor reflection of what it had once been. However, it still didn’t work quite right.
It wasn’t too long ago that I was finally able to go longer than a handful of hours without thinking about him. I’d finally felt like I was in a place to start moving on. I’d begun to date casually. Brantley was my sole focus, so there wasn’t room in my life for serious relationships, but it was nice to have bits of male attention every once in a while.
There were even some that I took to bed. Those experiences might not have rocked my world to its foundation, but they’d been pleasant enough. After all, I wasn’t looking for that kind of chemistry. I’d had it once before, and it had destroyed everything. I’d never again make the mistake of tying myself to a man who made my heart race, my breath quicken, and my skin tingle with just a single look. Men like that were dangerous. But it was still nice to have the occasional reminder that I was a woman and there were men out there who found me desirable.
Life was moving forward, and I had no choice but to move with it. It might not have been what I’d imagined it to be when I was younger, but I was learning to make do with my lot and I was finally happy.
Then, a few months ago, Jensen came back, and once again, my world was flipped upside down.
The boy I’d given my heart to, the man I’d planned a future with before he disappeared, had come back to Redemption, and it hadn’t just been for a short visit.
Much to my displeasure, he’d returned for good.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
The sound of my friend Farah’s voice pulled me from the unwelcomed trip down memory lane and back into the present.
Lifting my attention from where I’d been pinning her long, silky blonde hair into a loose, artful chignon behind her right ear, I caught her gaze in the reflection of the vanity mirror and gave her a curious look. “Huh?”
“You’ve been really quiet. I can only assume it’s because I screwed up majorly by inviting Jensen today. I’ll get Cannon to go down there and ask him to leave. I’m so sorry, Shane—”
“Farah, stop.” I smiled into the mirror and placed my hands on her shoulders. “I’ve already told you, I’m totally fine with it.”
“It’s just . . .” She paused to chew on her bottom lip. “After everything he did—”
“Stop biting your lip. You’re messing up your lipstick. And I get it, believe me. You don’t have to explain.”
The truth was, as much as I hated to admit it, Farah inviting Jensen to her and Cannon’s wedding had been the right thing to do. If it hadn’t been for him and his two Army buddies, our other friend Poppy might not have been with us today. When she’d been abducted and held for ransom by a hitman a while back—long story—Jensen and his friends had stepped in and saved the day.
I might have hated Jensen Rose to my very bones for abandoning me—plus, the whole crushing my heart thing—but I was eternally grateful to him for helping save a woman I thought of as a sister. I hadn’t had many friends growing up, what with keeping myself closed off and all, but Farah and Poppy had wormed their way under that protective wall I kept up around my heart, and now I couldn’t imagine not having either of them in my life.
The woman inadvertently at the center of our conversation came scuttling into the bridal suite looking slightly mussed and glassy-eyed. It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d snuck off somewhere to neck—and probably a whole lot more—with her insanely sexy husband and Farah’s big brother, Jase Hyland. “Don’t have to explain what?”
“Where you’ve been for the past twenty minutes,” I answered, giving Poppy a teasing wink. “Judging by your smeared lip gloss and sex hair, we already know.”
Poppy’s large blue eyes got wider as she lifted her hands to pat her long red hair. “Shut up,” she grumbled good-naturedly while moving to the mirror to fix the damage her man had done. “Now what are you really talking about?”
I shoved the last bobby pin into Farah’s hair and stepped back to view my handiwork as I answered, “Farah’s still worrying that I’m upset with her for inviting Jensen today, even though I’ve already told her a million times that I’m totally cool with it.”
I wasn’t, not really, but this was her day, and I wasn’t going to do anything to ruin it. Farah Hyland—soon to be Banks—had a heart of gold, and it didn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’d want to show her gratitude to Jensen for all he’d done by trying to include him in something like this.
“Besides, the whole town’s gonna be here today, so I probably won’t even see him.”
Avoidance was the name of the game. Sure, the idea that I had to share my town with him rankled, but there was nothing I could do to change that. We’d only had a handful of conversations since his return, and that was more than enough, in my opinion.
Unfortunately, one of those conversations had involved him wanting to get to know Brantley. If I thought sharing my town with him sucked, the thought of sharing my son tore me to shreds. I’d fought it for a while, refusing to let him anywhere near my son. After all, it wasn’t only me he’d left behind.
It was Caroline who helped me see past the haze of rage and pain to reason.
“Your uncle and I did the best we could, honey pie, but we were only fill-ins for the real thing,” she’d said. “You know what it’s like to grow up without your folks. If Brant has a chance to know his daddy, you need to let him.”
“What if he leaves again?” I’d asked, my heart in my throat at the thought of my boy being hurt.
“You can’t protect your baby from feelin’ heartbreak, Shane. All you can do is help him past it if it happens.”
I hadn’t liked it, but she was right. I’d felt the absence of my parents
every day. There was a hole inside my chest that wouldn’t fill, no matter what I did. A constant reminder that I wasn’t enough. I didn’t want that for Brantley, so I’d given in. With a few stipulations.
The first being that he and I didn’t speak unless absolutely necessary. The second—and the biggest—was that Uncle Scooter was there to supervise Jensen’s every visit with Brantley. I might have given him the opportunity to see his son, but I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. Overnights were out of the question, and he had to meet up with Scoot and Brantley at a place of my choosing.
That made it possible for my boy to get some time with his father while making it so I saw Jensen as little as humanly possible. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best I could do.
I could tell by my friends’ faces and the concerned look they shared that they wanted to say more, but the door to the suite opened before they could dig into my feelings, something they were prone to do since Jensen’s sudden reappearance months ago.
“All right, ladies. It’s showtime.” Bennett, Farah’s surrogate father, announced from the doorway. The man had grown up in Redemption, but moved away, getting a job as the driver for Farah and Jase’s family. He’d fallen in love with those kids and stayed up north for them, but when Farah made the move to his old hometown, it hadn’t been long before he’d followed. Now he was standing there, looking dignified and handsome in his classic tux, ready to walk the woman he thought of as his daughter down the aisle.
Farah let out an ear-piercing squeak as she shot up from the padded stool she’d been sitting on while I did her hair and makeup. “It’s time! I’m getting married! It’s time to get me married!”
She’d have bolted right out of the room had it not been for Bennett still standing in the doorway. “All right, my sweet Farah, let’s just slow down for a second. At least let the man get up to the altar before you race down the aisle.”
She paused, taking a few calming breaths before nodding her head. “All right. I’m calm.” She looked back and gave me and Poppy a blinding smile. “You guys ready?”
Not by a long shot, I thought. But I kept that to myself, pasting a happy smile onto my face as I nodded to my friend. “Let’s go get you married.”
Chapter Two
Shane
I was a tangled, twisted ball of nerves as I made my way down the aisle toward the altar where Cannon was waiting beside his father, Banks, who was standing as best man, and Farah’s brother, Jase.
All eyes in the room were pointed in my direction as everyone in the room waited in anticipation for the bride, but I kept my attention on the groom, mainly because I didn’t want to miss his reaction once he caught a gander at his bride, but also because I was afraid of what—or who—I might see if I glanced around.
I made it to my destination, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding just as Poppy joined me, opposite from the men. When I shifted my attention back to the aisle, my smile grew bigger, more genuine as I watched my son heading toward me. Farah didn’t have a flower girl, but she’d insisted on making my son her ring bearer.
He was dressed in a mini-version of the same tuxes the rest of the guys were wearing, his dark hair slicked back in a more mature style than the usual mop he wore. My baby looked like a little man, and I felt a pang of sadness at how much he’d already grown.
Halfway down the aisle, he spotted me, his face splitting into a little boy grin. “Hi, Momma!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the soft strains of music filtering through the room. My chest shook with a quiet laugh as I lifted my hand to return his rambunctious wave with a subtle one of my own.
“Did I do good?” he asked in a stage whisper once he reached my side. “I didn’t fall or nothin’!”
“You did fantastic, kid,” I whispered, wrapping an arm around him in order to pull him into me. “Now we have to face forward and be quiet. Aunt Farah’s about to come through those doors any second now.”
“Okay,” he whisper-yelled, leaning against me, his face an earnest mask as he watched the double doors closely, reaching up so he could lace his fingers with the hand I had resting on his chest. Just that one simple touch from my boy made everything feel better.
The anxiety clawing at my gut began to fade. That was, until I lifted my head. My gaze instantly landed on a pair of familiar storm cloud eyes and my lungs froze solid.
That first initial look had been like an electric shock to my nervous system. Even from four rows away, I could see the intensity in his dark, swirling, stormy eyes. I’d been held captive by it for several seconds before finally being able to shake myself loose and pay attention to what was happening around me.
My body’s reaction to that one look shook me to my core. It had taken forever for my heart to stop threatening to beat out of my chest. For a while, I was worried I’d hyperventilate right up there at the altar, but I finally got myself under control.
However, I felt his gaze on me through the entire ceremony like a physical touch. It was like fire spreading across my skin, and as hard as I tried to ignore it, the sensation just wouldn’t go away.
I refused to take another look in his direction and breathed a heavy sigh of relief once it was over. I managed to push him from the back of my mind, smiling and laughing as I posed for pictures with the rest of the wedding party, and by the time we headed into the reception, I was feeling lighter.
At least until we entered the ballroom and my son let out a shriek of, “Daddy!” and took off running, the excitement at seeing Jensen radiating from his little body. I knew it was ridiculous to feel hurt. My son loved his father, that was a good thing, but there was still a very childish, selfish part of me that wanted to be my son’s favorite. I stood motionless for a second as Jensen’s face broke out with a huge, beaming grin as he crouched down, opening his arms wide, and scooping Brantley up as soon as my boy lunged for him.
I had to turn away as my throat tightened and my eyes began to burn. It was just allergies, of course. It had absolutely nothing to do with seeing Jensen’s expression radiating love and happiness when he looked at my son. No freaking way.
I made it through dinner, toasts, and cake cutting without letting my animosity show. Or at least I hoped I did. Once the party started, I tried to keep myself distracted. I chatted with Caroline and Poppy. I danced with Scooter. I did a shot with my boss, Darla, at the bar, but the whole time, I could feel him watching, that prickle of awareness, a constant reminder that he was nearby somewhere, tracking every move I made.
Brantley let out a loud peel of laughter as I swung him in a circle, dipping him dramatically as the song we’d been dancing to came to an end. I lowered him to the ground, panting slightly from having to hold him during the dance. My boy wasn’t so little anymore, and the muscles in my arms were trembling from his weight, but it had been worth it. When he’d run up earlier and asked “Momma, will you dance with me?” I’d nearly melted into a puddle. He was just the sweetest kid in the whole wide world.
“You’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had, kid,” I exclaimed, bending down to place a smacking kiss against the top of his head.
“I want more cake!” he yelled in reply, shuffling his feet and cranking his arms like he was revving up.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think—”
“Cake, cake, cake!” he shrieked at a level that nearly made my ears bleed. I was just about to rain all over my boy’s parade—and risk life and limb—by saying no, when I was interrupted by a deep, husky voice that sent a shiver along my spine.
“Hey, buddy. You mind if I cut in?”
Brantley looked up at his dad with those eyes that matched almost exactly. “Cut what?” He sucked in a huge gasp. “Cut cake?”
Oh hell. Bedtime tonight was going to be a freaking nightmare.
“No, bud. Cut in,” Jensen repeated on a chuckle. “It’s a way of asking if you mind if I dance with your momma.”
“I don’t—” I started, but my hyped-up kid interr
upted before I could finish my objection. “Okay, Daddy!” Then he took off like a flash, heading straight for the cake table.
“So what do you say, sunshine? Dance with me?”
I hated that he still used that nickname, an endearment that used to mean everything. But what was more, I hated that hearing it still made my belly flip.
“I don’t think . . .” My heart began to beat wildly as I looked around, noticing we had the attention of at least half the room. This was a small town, after all. They all knew our story. Hell, most of them had been there to witness our demise, and they were just waiting to see what I’d do. The refusal had been on the tip of my tongue before I remembered where I was. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene. Farah deserved to have this day be perfect in every way, and I didn’t want to be the cause of messing anything up. “Just one,” I relented on an unhappy grumble. I could hear the sudden tittering and whispers as Jensen placed his palm on the small of my back and led me toward the middle of the dance floor just before another slow ballad began playing through the speakers.
My heart leapt into my throat when he gently turned me, that hand on my back pressing until my chest was flush with his. He took my hand in his and started swaying gently, seemingly at easy while a swarm of butterflies came to life, their wings flapping at gale force, in my belly.
With no other choice, I placed my free hand on his shoulder, and I couldn’t help but notice how strong and solid he felt beneath my palm. Jensen had always been tall and strong. That was one of a multitude of things I’d loved when we’d been together, feeling so tiny and safe in his embrace. But the man who’d come back after four and a half years was even bigger. His long, lean muscles were a whole hell of a lot thicker now. His body was covered by an attractive gray suit, but standing so close to him now, being pressed against all that hard, warm skin, I could feel a kind of power in his frame that hadn’t been there before.
Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3) Page 2