She considered for merely a moment. “Oh, all right. Life’s too short for the Maple Grove Ladies League and abstaining from whipped cream.”
We clinked our Styrofoam cups in a toast, then sipped as we talked. We strolled with our happy dogs through downtown, marveling at the lights, the shop window displays, the coming of Christmas. By the time we ended up back at the bench, I had Angela Smith, society diva, signed up to work with me at the rescue. She talked of visiting her son, sending him more care packages. And making her husband take her and Trudy on a trip.
And I had talked of Ridley. Because Angela Smith knew about broken hearts.
“Good-bye, Harper.” She pulled me in a hug, our coats mashing like pillows. “Thank you again for Trudy.” She reached down and petted her new baby. “I promise I’ll be the best home she could ever have.”
“I know,” I said. “Animals I understand. But sometimes it just takes me awhile to get a good read on people. See you guys next week?”
“We’ll be here!”
The weathermen had talked of the possibility of an early December snow. And as I sat back down on the park bench, I felt the cold seep in, like a blizzard had already started within me.
“There’s a game Friday,” said a dark, beautiful voice. “And they’re looking for a Wildcat.”
I blinked once, twice, but my eyes still held the vision of Ridley walking my direction. He wore a black wool peacoat, a USK cap, and one adorable smile.
“Ridley.” The dogs jumped as I stood, as if they had missed him too. “Down, boys.”
And then Ridley was standing before me, his cheeks pink from the wind, and his eyes luminescent from the fairy lights above us. “Hello, O’Malley.”
My gosh, I’d missed that face. “What are you doing here?”
He scratched Kanye behind the ear. “Went to your house, and Cole told me I’d find you here.”
Thank God for brothers who butted into my business. “It’s, um . . .” My mind filled with flowery adjectives I couldn’t use. “Good to see you.”
He dropped to one knee, giving the dogs hearty pats. “Faith told me that maybe I needed to hear you out.”
“Faith. You mean like God?”
“Like my sister.” Ridley stood to his full height, and the dogs watched him in rapt adoration. “It killed me to see you with Levin. I don’t know why you thought he’d do it for you, but as long as he’s your ideal, I have nothing to offer you.”
“That’s not true.”
“You pretty much confirmed it yourself.”
“I’m the daughter of a crazy woman. What do I know?”
“Look, Harper, I’m just here to thank you.”
That didn’t sound like a promising start to a total declaration of the heart.
“I know it was you who got Dwayne to drop the charges. My mom told me what happened. Said the Eagles went over and . . . talked to him.”
“They’re very sweet like that.”
“So . . . thank you.”
“Did you see the USK offensive coordinator was at the game?”
“Yeah, we’ve talked.”
“And?”
“If I can keep a clean record, I’m back in the running. I’ll know more in a few months.”
I smiled. “Maybe I’ll be around to see you play next fall.”
He wore a heavy expression, one I couldn’t quite read. “You said . . . you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about.”
“I did,” I sputtered. “I do.”
Ridley sat down on the bench, a football king on his throne. “I’m listening.”
Now that I had his attention, I didn’t even know where to start. “I messed up. Badly. But I was scared.”
“Of me?”
I nodded. “A little.”
His brows dipped in a frown. “Why?”
“I had such a weird childhood.” I was so sick of talking about it. But he had to understand. “My bio-mom liked to say I was afraid of my own shadow. And she was right. People scare me. Because . . . a long time ago they hurt me.” I unzipped my coat, tossed it on the bench, and pushed up the sleeves of my sweater.
And for the first time, I showed someone my scars. A puckered canvas that covered both arms.
His curse came hot and fierce. “Harper—”
“I was ten. The courts decided to send me back to Becky. The first week was fine. She stayed home, she paid attention to me. Remembered to buy food. She’d even bought me a puppy. But by the second week, she started fading. I knew she was using again. On a Friday night, she locked me in my room. Promised me she’d be back in a few hours. It was just me and that dog.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“By Sunday she still wasn’t back. I banged on the door, pounded on the windows. But neither would open. And nobody heard me. I still had some food. And my dog never left my side, curled right beside me. That evening a storm came through. Lightning struck the house, set it on fire.” I could still smell the smoke, hear my own shrieks of desperation. “I knew nobody was coming for me.” Thought Death had come to get me in the licks and hisses of flames. “I finally threw something into the window, broke it enough to crawl through. I had that puppy in my arms, but these ratty curtains ignited, fell on me.”
Ridley stood and moved as if to reach for me, but I held up a hand, shook my head.
“I don’t remember everything from that night. But when the fire department came, I was hanging out the window, my clothes on fire. They pulled me out. Got me to safety before the roof caved.”
Ridley briefly closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Harper. So sorry.”
“I spent the next few weeks in the hospital. And the O’Malleys never left my side. So I finally got my family and a home full of people who loved me. But I have these scars. And though it’s stupid, they shame me. I couldn’t stand for anyone to see them. Because I hated the story they told. And nobody had the right to that part of me.”
“But you’re telling me now.”
Because I wanted him to have this key. To understand. “I know I’m screwed up. I pray every night to wake up whole. I want so badly to be normal. But I can’t ever forget what happened.” I held out my battered arms, and my sleeves shimmied back down. “These scars are nothing compared to the ones I carry inside. And I know if anyone can get that, it’s you. People hurt us. And we both fight to come out the other side—to be different people.”
“You’re nothing like your mom,” Ridley said.
“But I am what she made me. Andrew was the first guy I’d liked. Do you have any idea what a milestone that was for me? That I felt ready to be in a relationship? I wanted to make that work so bad. He was safe, sweet. There wasn’t one scary thing about him—except for how little I felt for him. He should’ve been perfect. But then I fell for you. What I felt for you . . . it was absolutely frightening.”
“I never would’ve hurt you.”
“There’s nothing safe about what you do to me. What you make me feel is wild and unpredictable. It’s so much bigger than me, and I didn’t know what to do with it. These last six years, I’ve worked so hard to just stay in this protective cocoon I’d built. But I don’t want safe anymore, not if it means losing you. You were right. Andrew does bore me. I chose him for all the wrong reasons.” I stepped closer to Ridley, looked down into those deep brown eyes. “I chose him because I was afraid of what would happen if I let myself fall for you. You’re so out of my league. You’re beautiful and popular, and every girl wants to be with you.”
“I don’t want to be with every girl.”
“But I thought eventually you would. You’d see that I’m the girl who sometimes sleeps with a night-light on. I cry when it storms. I’d rather read a book than go to a party. I listen to Bach and boy bands. I’m trumpet section leader. You’re the football captain. I’m plain where you’re—”
“Stop. Just stop it.” He stood then, his hands on the arms that I had just shown him. “You think I don’t know
you by now? I get you, Harper. Your weird space issues, your compulsive animal smuggling, your difficulty letting people in. And you were the one I wanted. I let you in my life, showed you every piece of me I’d never shared with anyone else. But when I told you how I felt, you walked away.”
The bitter wind seeped right through me. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not the only one with trust issues here.”
“I know I hurt you. And you can walk away. But Ridley Estes, I’m crazy for you.”
“A few days ago it was Andrew.”
“It would’ve been convenient if I had meant it.” I could not let this boy slip away. “You are the one I’ve fallen for. I can do this relationship. I could be the best girlfriend you’ve never had. And do you know why?”
He stared, waited.
“Because I’ve had the very best teacher.” Fear fell like snow, but I pushed it away. “Remember lesson number six?”
“No.”
“I do. You said to give your guy compliments.” I stepped close enough to smell his light cologne. “I love your voice, how it soothes me sometimes and makes my skin tingle at others. I love your hair, the way it’s pitch-black until you get in the sun, then I can see the threads of red. Then there’s your heart.” Dear God, his heart. “The first time I saw you with Emmie, I think I fell a little bit in love. The man you are to your sisters says more about you than any of your stats or championship rings.”
“I should probably get home to those sisters.”
“Lesson number three. Never reject a girl’s compliment. Because I haven’t even gotten started on your smile. Did you know I would try to say something shocking just to see the dimples in your cheeks? It was like winning the lottery. I love how gentle you’ve always been with me, as if you knew how deep my damage was. You never made fun of me, never once laughed at me.”
“Harper—”
“You still like me. I know you do.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“You’re the boy who braved a man with a shotgun to save my dog. The one who fixed an old lady’s toilet so she’d be more likely to give up her schnauzer. The one who taught me everything I know about surviving a date.” I reached for his scarf, holding the ends in my gloved hands. “The first boy I truly kissed. The only boy I let kiss me.”
“Part of our deal.”
“It was more than that.” His eyes were warming, and hope flared in my soul. “Lesson number nine. I believe that one was just be yourself. And that’s exactly who I am with you. You’d seen almost all my ugly. And you still stuck with me.”
“There’s nothing ugly about you.” Ridley tossed me my coat. And when I just held it, he plucked it from my hands. “You’re beautiful.” He lifted my left arm and pulled the sleeve over it. “From the moment you opened your front door to me that first day, I couldn’t get you out of my system.” He shoved on the other sleeve. “But you were right to run. Because I’m not safe like Andrew.” I bit back a smile as he zipped up my coat. “I have no idea what my future looks like. I occasionally throw a punch here and there. I like my music to have words, and I help raise two little girls. You better decide right now if you can deal with that.”
Yes. A million times yes. “It’s always been you.”
“You can walk away now, and I’ll leave you alone. But you stay, Harper, and I’m not letting you go.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I framed his face with my hands, looking into the eyes of the boy who was never supposed to steal my heart. “Lesson number fifteen. Sometimes the girl has to take the initiative and kiss the boy.”
“I don’t recall that one.”
“It’s new.”
“I like it.” Smiling, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him with all that I had. And maybe fireworks didn’t go off. But carolers did. Somewhere in the distance, an off-tune group sang “O Holy Night.”
And indeed it was.
Ridley lifted his head, his eyes soft on mine. “Lesson number twelve. Don’t go straight for the lips.” He reached for my hand, gently pushing my coat sleeve up just enough to reveal the edge of the old wounds. “Harper . . . you can always trust me with your scars.”
And as Ridley kissed the skin the flames had ravaged, I knew the places inside were going to heal. Because of him. Because of the love of the O’Malleys.
And because I had stopped believing the lies Fear had whispered in my ear.
I didn’t know for sure what would happen with my parents. Heaven knew I still had some land mines from the past to detonate and dismantle. And I sure didn’t know how to be a football star’s girlfriend.
But lesson number twenty-one. I was enough. I was worthy.
I was wanted.
And I was right where I belonged.
“Let’s go sing Christmas songs, Ridley Estes.”
He hugged me tight. “I can’t sing.”
“Just another way we’re perfectly matched.”
Dear Reader, if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review at your online retailer. It helps so much. Unless this is the worst thing you’ve ever read. Then…forget we had this talk. ; )
About the Author
Award-winning, best-selling author Jenny B. Jones writes YA and women’s romance with sass and Southern charm. Since she has very little free time, Jenny believes in spending her spare hours in meaningful, intellectual pursuits, such as eating ice cream, watching puppy videos, and reading celebrity gossip. She lives in the beautiful state of Arkansas and has worked in public education for half of forever. She loves the sound of bluegrass, loves a good laugh, and loves to hear from readers.
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Dedicated to Julie Jones
To a funny, sweet, beautiful, smart girl who makes all those around you smile. And you have the awesomest older sister. *wink*
Acknowledgments
To the Boys of Fall, circa 1993, especially the helpful friends who walked down memory lane to help me out with some football information. Thank you Ben Baugh, Erick Harp, and Chris Snow. May you always look on the Concussion Years fondly. They were some of the best days.
Thank you Jason Epps for Epps Sports Consulting Services. You didn’t roll your eyes one time at my dumb questions. My people will call your people to get that payment check to you.
Jessica Epps, thank you for answering all my questions. All 100 of them. Okay, 1000. So appreciate your encouragement and friendship.
Christa Allan, thank you for being you. For letting me vent and for always giving me comma advice.
Bentley Fisher, for being one of my nearest and dearest friends, for making me laugh, for Kettle Corn and Dr. Pepper. May you finally find the perfect pair of running shoes. Before you Catch and Release them. Again.
Rel Mollet, friend and author advocate, thank you for your encouragement, your cheerleading, and for those eagle eyes on my manuscript. Have I told you that you’re awesome?
Jocelyn Bailey, thank you for giving me time (um, years) to work out all the story kinks. I so appreciate your friendship, your editing, and all your help. Thanks for making the story better. We’ll always have Lionel.
Thank you to my mom for being my friend and for having the good grace to never come right out and say, “You’re my favorite child.” Even though we both know I am.
Praise and adoration to my hero, Carol Burnett. This wide-eyed gal met you in a steak house on Staten Island in 2015, and for the first time ever, I was rendered speechless. You will never know the impact you had on that little girl who grew up watching you. I’m so glad we had this time together.
A shout of thanks to God fo
r all things. Except Writer’s Butt. Feel free to take that blessing back.
Finally, a giant hug to all my readers. Thank you for the privilege of stepping into your world and sharing my little books. You have changed my life.
Have You Read Can’t Let You Go?
An old love whose kisses make her weak, but whose secrets threaten to destroy all she holds dear...
Fresh out of college, Katie Parker had it all—a charming romance, a role in a famous stage production, and an idyllic life in London. Until she found her boyfriend cheating and got herself fired from the play. Leaving everything behind, Katie hops a plane home, only to run into her first love, Charlie Benson. As the couple returns to In Between, Katie questions everything she ever thought she wanted—including a renewed romance with her high school flame.
While she attempts to rebuild her life, Katie's plan to manage the family’s theater meets a devastating obstacle, dragging her into a legal battle that will rock her small town. And the boy who once broke her heart seems to have the power to do it again. As Charlie’s secrets unravel, Katie must make a choice. Can she overcome her past and trust Charlie with her heart again?
Can’t Let You Go Sample
CHAPTER ONE
“What do you mean my bags aren’t here?”
I leaned over the counter at the O’Hare airport, fresh out of patience and smiles. The TSA employee’s fingers clickity-clacked on his keyboard, his generous brows knit together like an escaped wooly worm.
“I’m sorry, Miss Parker. Something apparently went very wrong, and your luggage seems to be on a flight to Reykjavik.”
“This is unacceptable. Who goes to Iceland?”
I'll Be Yours Page 28