Memories of Us

by Fabiola Francisco

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Fabiola Francisco

  Social Media

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 by Fabiola Francisco

  MEMORIES OF US

  Fabiola Francisco

  Cover design by Amy Queau

  Editing by Robin Bateman of Robin’s Red Pen

  Cover photo by Big Stock Photo

  Interior Design by Cary Hart

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Standalones

  Perfectly Imperfect

  Red Lights, Black Hearts

  Twisted in You

  Memories of Us

  Restoring Series

  Restoring Us (Complete Series)

  Resisting You (Aiden and Stacy Novella)

  Sweet on You Series

  Sweet on Wilde

  Whiskey Nights

  Rebel Desire Series

  Lovin’ on You

  Love You Through It

  All of You

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  For the believers of love and second chances. Fight for the one you love.

  We had it all

  And lost it,

  Broken promises,

  Broken hearted,

  And I’m left all alone, needing you

  Wondering where you are.

  I CLIMB THE FENCE and swing my leg over, settling down as I look out at the land my father worked hard to maintain. The land my grandfather built. I was supposed to follow their footsteps, but I threw it all to hell. I scrub my face with my palm, shaking away the guilt.

  “Hey, girl,” I run my hand down Addie’s face. The mare juts her head in greeting. She was my favorite girl, until I found my other favorite girl. The second thing I fucked up in my twenty-five years. I sigh into the wind.

  “I can’t believe I’m back here. Has he been cursing my name?” I ask the horse as if she’ll answer. Releasing her, I look at the barn. Sighing, a wave of memories knock me down.

  I’m cleaning the stalls, shoveling shavings while the radio plays Alan Jackson. I sing along as the words echo off the wood structure. I pay attention to the beat and rhythm the words create, picking up the different instruments that play.

  “You singin’ for an audience?”

  I smile and turn around, leaning on the shovel. I look at her, eyeing her tight jeans and tank top, her cowboy boots hugging her legs.

  “I am now.” I sing louder, moving to her. I pull my favorite girl to me, twirling her around and moving to the music. I dip her low, hoisting her left leg up.

  Her laugh vibrates around the space as I bring her back to me. She pulls my cowboy hat off and touches my forehead with hers.

  “That’s going to be you one day,” she says, her lips twitching upward.

  “Only if you agree to be there with me.” I gaze into her eyes.

  “Always, babe.” Her voice turns serious as she reassures me. We’ve planned this for so long—leaving for Nashville so I can chase my dreams as soon as she graduates from college.

  Then, she puts my hat on and grabs the shovel I had leaned against the wall. “What do you need help with?” She begins to shovel shavings before I answer.

  Adjusting myself, I walk behind her and hug her. “Baby, I need somethin’ else right now.” I push my hips into her, causing her to break into a fit of laughter.

  “Hunter,” she swats me. “We can’t do that here. Your parents can walk in.”

  “Nah.” I kiss her neck.

  “Hunter Daniels, stop it right now.” She shakes her body to rid me, but I tighten my arms, keeping her to me.

  “I ain’t ever lettin’ you go, Mackenzie Grace.”

  She stops moving. “You better not.” She turns in my arms, her kiss leaving me wanting more.

  “Hunter Daniels! I never thought I’d see your ugly face around here again.” I shake my head to clear the memory and look at Jack.

  “Who you callin’ ugly, dumb ass?” I jump down to meet my best friend, shaking his hand. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen him.

  “How you doin’?” He pats my back.

  “Just takin’ it all in, brother.” I exhale and sweep my gaze around my parents’ land.

  “You homesick?”

  I shake my head. “Nah.”

  “How’s the job? Rebel Desire, huh? You hangin’ with the big dogs.” My hands in my pockets, I look at him, shaking my head.

  “It’s been great. How are you? You have Julie pregnant yet?” I smile, sadness trying to pierce through me. We talk often, yet I feel like being gone has kept me out of their lives.

  Jack chuckles. “Slow down. We got time for kids later. We’re still in the honeymoon stage.”

  “You been in that stage for over three years now,” I laugh along with him.

  He shrugs. “What can I say? That woman keeps me on my toes.” He takes a step back to look at me. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” I scrub my face. “Just weird being back here.”

  “Tell me ‘bout it. Never thought I’d see you here again, with the way you left.” He crosses his arms and tilts his head as he looks at me.

  “I couldn’t tell my mom no.” When my mom called to ask me personally to come to her and my dad’s vow renewal for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, I couldn’t say no.

  “She misses you. Talks to my momma about you all the time, what you’re doing, the songs you’re writin’. Maybe you should come visit more often.” Jack adjusts his cap to cover more of his face from the sun.

  “Can’t. Work.” I throw a lame excuse as my jaw clenches. “Besides, you turnin’ into a chick now, worried about my momma?”

  “Don’t be a dick,” Jack shoots at me.

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “Glad to see your independence in Nashville has really matured you,” he deadpans.

  I sigh and run a hand down my face. I’m being a dick to him because it’s easy. We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers, and our parents have been friends since before then. Jack is the brother I never had, which is why my leaving hurt that much more. I up and left for Nashville, throwing my plans out the window.

  “What’s really eatin’ at ya?” Jack climbs the fence and sits. I join him, wishing I had grabbed a few beers and a cooler.
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  “Where do I begin?” I grip on to both sides of the railing I’m sitting on.

  “Well, you ain’t this tied about seeing your pops, so how ‘bout you begin with the real reason you’re shakin’ in your boots.”

  I smirk. Fucker.

  “Have you spoken to her? Seen her?” I ask Jack, my heart racing.

  “Nah, man.” He shakes his head, frowning. “She up and left right after you, disappearin’ into the night. Seems as you both have that in common.” He lifts a brow.

  I stare at him, jaw clenched. “I called. I said where I was going.”

  “She may have, too, just not to anyone related to you,” Jack shrugs.

  I hear tires crunching under the dirt road and look up to see my parents pulling up.

  “Ready to face your pop?” Jack says with a taunting smile.

  Why is he still my best friend?

  “Hunter!” My mom exclaims and rushes to me. I meet her halfway.

  “Hey, Momma.” I hug her, towering over her, but still feeling like a kid. I’m a momma’s boy, and I ain’t afraid to admit it.

  “Been way too long.” Tears pool in her eyes. “Are you eating enough? You need some of my chili and cornbread to fluff you up a bit.” She pats my stomach.

  “Mom,” I laugh and shoo her arms away, trying to lighten the mood.

  Before I can turn around, I hear mumbling and a door slam. My mom and I both jolt at the echo. Seeing as my father refuses to acknowledge me, I say, “I told you I could’a stayed at a hotel.”

  “Over my dead body. It’s about time you both reconciled. Now come on, I’ve got supper to make. You staying for supper, Jack?” she calls, holding my hand and dragging me with her.

  “Depends. What’cha makin’?” Jack teases her.

  I smile and shake my head. Wrong answer.

  “Get your ass in the house and call Julie and tell her to come over. We’re celebrating tonight.” My mom’s voice sings and guilt washes over me. It’s been three years since I’ve stepped foot on this land, always making my momma go see me in Nashville if she wanted to. Never inviting my father.

  I came home one time after moving to Nashville. It was right after I left, and it was to come get her. But she was already gone. Thinking about that night weighs me down.

  “Yes ma’am,” Jack chuckles and follows us into the house.

  I stomp my feet on the back porch before entering the house. As I step into the home I was raised in, the memories stifle.

  I grab a beer and hand one to Jack while my momma talks up a storm and cooks. She refuses help, saying we can help her set the table in a bit. My dad is nowhere to be seen, probably out by the barn, tending the horses. Avoidance works best for us. Seeing him in person after all this time, it hurts to know we’ll never have the relationship we once did.

  As soon as Julie arrives, I give her a big bear hug and catch her up on my life in Nashville. It feels good to sit with my friends at home, the aroma of my momma’s home-cooked meal all around the kitchen.

  I’ve been trying to get Jack and Julie out to visit me, but their ranch keeps them busy. Being with them now, like old times, a pang in my chest amplifies. Not quite like old times. While Jack still has Julie sitting on his lap, mine is empty. I rub my eyes and gulp my beer. The ghost of a woman still haunting me three years later.

  My one mistake. My one regret.

  “I’ll be right back.” The chair screeches against the tile and I walk out to my truck to grab my bag. I need fresh air. I shouldn’t have come. I could’ve made up some sorry ass excuse and said I had to travel for work. But I know how much this means to my mom. Her permanent grin all afternoon is evidence that it’s been too long since I’ve been home. But being here is a reminder of all I fucked up.

  I kick a rock with the toe of my boot and fling my overnight bag over my shoulder. Looking to my left, I see my dad shoveling shavings into a stall. Wasn’t too long ago I was out there helping him. Guilt pierces me, and I debate going to talk to him. He’ll just ignore me.

  I shake my head and walk back into the house, whispers coming from the kitchen. “I can hear y’all,” I holler and make my way to my old room, assuming my bed is still there for me to sleep in.

  Dropping my bag on the bed with the same plaid comforter as when I was younger, I look at the medals hanging from the hooks. Talk about a throwback. It’s as if I’ve walked into a time machine and returned to my teen years. The one picture I have framed mocks me from the dresser. My nostrils flare and my throat burns. I put it face down before heading back to the kitchen.

  “Mornin’.” I walk into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, honey. Did you sleep okay?” My mom smiles. I kiss her cheek as she bustles around in the kitchen. I don’t know why she didn’t hire someone to take care of the food for the party if it is her anniversary.

  “Yeah. Need help?” I look around to see where I can start.

  “I’ve got it all covered. Why don’t you go out and help your dad set up the chairs?” She avoids my eyes, pretending to be busy.

  “Mom,” I warn.

  “You’ll both eventually have to get over it and talk again. Three years is far too long. Thing is, you’re both more stubborn than the mule my daddy had growing up.” She finally turns around and looks at me, her lips pursed.

  I chuckle. “You know he doesn’t want my help.”

  “Just go out there, Hunter,” she bosses me.

  I serve myself a cup of coffee and inhale. Might as well try to help the man. Tension rolls over my body as I head outside.

  “You need help?” I lean against my truck and sip my coffee. I roll my shoulders back, trying to release the discomfort.

  “I got it.” I watch my old man wipe his brow with the back of his hand, his eyes focused on the chair he’s setting. Three years doesn’t seem like a long time, but I see the years on him—silver hair and wrinkled eyes.

  “Come on, Dad.” I push away from my truck and leave the mug on the hood. I grab a chair and follow him, placing it next to the others. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out how they want the setup. Chairs next to each other, facing the smaller barn. One of my dad’s ranch hands is hanging lights by the barn, trying to ignore our interaction.

  Working in silence, I make the best of it. You’d think after a few years my dad would’ve gotten over it. I’m his son, after all.

  You also didn’t apologize.

  I scrub the back of my neck and finish placing the chairs. The humidity is thick in the air, even in the morning.

  “What else needs to be done?” I ask my dad.

  “Rick and the guys will finish up the rest.” His voice is flat.

  “Come on, Dad. I can help,” I offer. This is ridiculous.

  “Help? In this piece of shit farm?” His words sting.

  I take a step back at his tone.

  “Dad…”

  “No. You got what you wanted. Fancy place in Nashville, following your dreams and outta this dump,” he yells.

  “Fuck,” I mumble.

  “You say somethin’?” He dares me to repeat my curse.

  “No.” I kick the tire on my truck and grab the mug, making my way inside.

  Fancy place in Nashville, my ass. If he only knew my life in Nashville is a far cry from fancy. After three years, I’m finally seeing a hint of success. Thanks to Cash Knight.

  I rinse the cup and climb the stairs to my room in silence. My mom must’ve heard because she remains silent. I want to get this weekend over with, so I can go back to Nashville, pour my misery into songwriting, and drink my lonely heart under the table at night.

  I walk up to my dresser and grab the picture frame I laid down yesterday. I run a finger down her face and shake my head. How could I have been such an idiot?

  Her smile is the brightest thing in this photograph and my eyes, like always, are on her as someone snapped the picture. Being basketball state champions was nothing compared to having her there. And fuck did I love seeing her i
n her cheerleading uniform. I just loved her. Love. I’ll never stop, regardless of how long it’s been. It’s either her or no one. The emotions are thick in the back of my throat as I stare at her bright, blue eyes. Where are you?

  “Hunter.”

  I drop the frame and walk out of my room.

  “Yeah, Ma?” I call out.

  “Ma? Did you pick that up in Tennessee?” She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her toe on the floor.

  I chuckle. “No, ma’am,” I mock.

  “Just call me Momma, like always.” Her eyes soften and her lips frown. I hug my mom tight.

  “Love you, Momma.”

  “Love you, too. Now, can you help me in the kitchen? I’ve got my hair appointment soon and I’m running behind.”

  “Why didn’t you hire someone? You know, I would’ve helped pay for it. You’re supposed to be relaxing and getting all dolled up.” I shake my head. She always tries to do it all herself, but she can ask for help.

  “I like doing this. Besides, I ordered dinner, but wanted to make some home cooked things myself.” Her body slightly tenses, and I furrow my brows.

  I shake my head and follow her into the kitchen, wondering what that was about.

  “How many people are you expecting?” I see the mess in the kitchen and vast spread of food.

  “About forty.”

  “Forty?” I croak. “Who the hell did y’all invite?”

  “Watch your mouth,” she chastises.

  I thought this would be a small event. Intimate. I run a hand down my face. “Sorry,” I apologize and help her with whatever she needs. No way she can do this all herself, and I’m pissed my dad didn’t get someone to help her, despite her protests.

  “The Hills are coming,” she warns after a few minutes of silence.

  “What?” I look at my mom. She doesn’t look at me, instead continues to plate the stuffed jalapeños.

  “They’re friends,” she explains.

  I nod, silent for a moment.

  “She’s not coming,” my mom reads my mind.

  “Didn’t expect her to.” I clench my teeth.

  “You ever get a hold of her?” She places a hand on my forearm, her eyes staring up at mine.