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Not the One (Spring Grove Book 1)

Page 3

by Toni Aleo


  Horror filled her face as she shook her head. Yes, all that was in his past, but still, it shaped him into society’s version of the piece of shit who was standing before her. But she didn’t look at him like that. She looked at him like he was worthy of love from an angel. “Not on purpose.”

  “It was my fault. I was drunk, I got into the fight that killed him. I’m junk, baby. Run away.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

  “You have to.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Ashley…”

  “Travis, I love you.”

  His eyes fell shut as he inhaled deeply, his whole body moving with the action. He knew she loved him. He knew he should have stepped away after the first time he got her in his arms, but he couldn’t. He craved her. Needed her. But he couldn’t ruin her life the way he had ruined his. He cared for her too much.

  Shit, he might even love her.

  Fuck.

  When he looked up, to tell her to leave him, and fast, she was undressing. His eyes widened as he choked out, “Ashley?”

  “Take me, Travis,” she said, her eyes burning into his as she skimmed out of her panties. “Against this table. I want every single inch of you inside me. Make my body ache, not my heart.”

  He was speechless as his sweet, beautiful angel leaned on the table, perking her ass in the air. His cock throbbed, straining against his shorts, as he watched the inside of her appear, her slick center glistening at him. Screaming for him. Just like her eyes were.

  “Take me,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder at him. “Now.”

  His hands shook, his heart pounding but he—

  “When is your flight?”

  Gen jumped as she shut her computer, and she inhaled quickly at the sound of Montgomery’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since their fight two nights before. He was working, she was working, and she was pretty sure they were both ignoring his mother. Which she actually had no problem with whatsoever.

  “My car should be here in about ten.”

  “Oh. I thought I was driving you.”

  Still not looking at him, she picked at her nails. “I assumed you’d be at work.”

  “I took off to take you.”

  “Well, you should have said something.”

  She looked back at him. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a button-down shirt. Very casual but also very sexy. She was so used to seeing him in either a suit or naked that seeing him in the clothes he used to wear before he became a workaholic sort of made butterflies go crazy in her stomach. “You should dress like that more often,” she said before she could stop herself.

  His brows pulled together as he shrugged. “I’m always working.”

  “Which is a problem.”

  His brows furrowed more. “You’ve never complained before.”

  “Because you were living your dreams,” she said, standing and reaching for her laptop bag. “I supported you.”

  He didn’t say anything as she put everything in her bag and then put it on her shoulder before pulling down the cuffs of her shorts. Looking up at him, she exhaled. “My car should be here in a few.”

  Before she could pass, though, he held up a hand to her. “Gen, stop.”

  “What?” she asked, looking up into his heated blue-green gaze. She could see the hurt, the uncertainty, but she couldn’t back down on this. If it came down to him or her writing, she was choosing her writing. She could never be happy as just a housewife.

  “Genevieve, it feels like you are calling this off.”

  Did it?

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I won’t,” she stressed, gazing up at him. “But I won’t stop writing. I won’t stop giving life to my characters or publishing. Not only do I love it, but I have to do that. You knew that, surely you knew that going in.”

  “I didn’t think this was a forever thing.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “But—”

  She held her hand up. “I’m not quitting, and I want to be with you. I love you. But I will not be with you when you won’t support me.”

  “That’s not fair. That’s basically an ultimatum and only weeks before the wedding. That’s fucked up, Gen.”

  She nodded. “You’re absolutely right. This should have happened years ago, so both of us wouldn’t be standing here, staring into each other’s faces, thinking, ‘Fuck, we just wasted years on each other—’”

  “I don’t feel I’ve wasted anything. I want to be with you.”

  “And I want to be with you, I do, Mont. I love you, but I refuse to stop what I love. Why can’t I have you and my career?”

  He threw his hands up, frustration filling his features. “Because it’s stupid. It isn’t even a real career. It’s like painting, no one makes a career of art. It’s dumb—”

  She laughed ruefully. “And that’s where you are wrong, and I’m sorry, but basically a snob because there are plenty of people who make a career from art, from dance, from singing. Anything. People love people who are creative. It’s a passion—”

  “It’s an excuse to be lazy.”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening, completely taken aback by that. “When have I ever been lazy? Please, tell me a time.”

  “You sit up in that room—”

  “And I work, I clean, I come to your events, I even bring you lunch if you ask. I have done everything but stop writing. That’s not fair to say. I am not lazy. Creative people are not lazy. They are geniuses, if anything. For goodness’ sake, Mont, you design buildings. You’re basically creative.”

  He recoiled in horror. “No. I’m a developer.”

  “Which is the same fucking thing!” she yelled, striking her hips. “Same thing.”

  Before he could go on, a horn sounded and then the doorbell. She shook her head as he looked away, both of them breathing hard. “I have to go.”

  “I don’t think you should go.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for her bags. “But I don’t care. The same way you don’t care about my career.”

  He glared back at her. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  “No, Mont, we’ve said enough. I know damn well all we’ll do is go round and round the same issue,” she said, moving past him and into the hall. She couldn’t believe everything had blown up in her face like this. She thought she’d had it all. The man, the career, the life, but she was obviously ignoring the big fat elephant that had the potential to crash their so-called perfect life. “Take these two weeks to think this over. Hell, to miss me and to want to accept my career. I don’t know. But I’m not doing this,” she said, moving her hand between them, “if you can’t support me. So when I come home in two weeks, it’ll be to pack my shit or get married.”

  “This is ridiculous,” he muttered as the horn beeped again. “We need to fix this.”

  “Can we?” she asked, holding his gaze. “I’m ready. You’re the one who’s not accepting me.”

  “Gen, this is stupid—”

  “Yeah, we’re done here.” With that, she turned and started down the hall, shaking her head. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t believe this. All she wanted to do was finish her book. Yeah, she didn’t want this huge wedding, but damn it, she did love him.

  “What is this? You getting cold feet? Need a last hurrah?”

  She rolled her eyes. Looking back at him, she said, “I’m going to go finish my book, not go to Vegas.”

  “But you’re going to the place where he was—”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged, looking away. “It just seems fishy.”

  “I have not seen or heard from him in years. Swallow your issues with your daddy’s affairs when it comes to me. Because I’m not him. I don’t cheat. I have never given you any kind of reason to assume that. Let’s remember, I’m not the one who stepped out on the other.”

  It
was a low blow, but she couldn’t help it. Eyes flashing with anger, he yelled back, “We buried that. I was drunk, it was one time. Don’t bring it up.”

  “Don’t accuse me of something I have no intention of doing.”

  He scoffed. “But, Gen, is it cheating when you’re separated?”

  “Hell, I don’t know, and I sure as hell don’t want to find out.”

  “Sure, you don’t.”

  The horn beeped once more, and not even the sound could prompt her to shut her mouth as it hung open in complete shock. How dare he? She had never in their relationship done anything but love and support him. She’d never step out on him, and damn it, she took him back when he did it to her. This was bullshit. Straight bullshit.

  Shaking her head, she turned, heading for the stairs. “It’s as if you don’t even know me.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” he called after her.

  That was when the tears started to fall.

  That was also the moment she realized she might have just wasted five years of her life.

  Chapter Four

  Swimming her hand through the air as she drove, Gen felt the sun warm her face.

  She was here. Spring Grove, Kentucky.

  Well, she had about fifteen minutes until she entered town, but a grin was already on her face. Gen had decided to leave her issues and problems with Montgomery back at the airport where she had landed. Once she picked up her car, threw the top down, and got in, she found herself singing and basking in the heat of the beautiful sun that was setting over Kentucky Lake. The whole flight to Kentucky, all she did was replay their arguments. Even the one they’d had two nights ago. She really didn’t understand how the hell she hadn’t noticed that not once had he told her he loved her. It hurt her, but she wouldn’t let the tears fall anymore.

  Not when she was in her magical place to finish her book.

  She knew she had a lot to think about. If Montgomery didn’t accept her career, what in the world would she do? But then, did she even want to be with someone who obviously didn’t want to be with her as she was? Lord, how did this happen? Thankfully, they hadn’t merged their accounts yet. They had been planning on it, but he had been so busy. Like always. But would she stay in DC? Would she move back to New York where she went to college?

  Yelling out, she shook her head. “No, you are not doing this now. You will figure it out once you go back home and see if your so-called boyfriend is gonna get his stupid head out of his ass and support you—or better yet, love you.”

  But even saying the words out loud, she couldn’t help but have no faith in them. Montgomery hadn’t supported her ever, but now he was vocal about it. They had never discussed their problems; they just decided to get married. “And then everything went to shit,” she muttered to herself, her long, golden-brown hair blowing in the wind. It didn’t matter, though. None of it. She was going to write Travis and Ashley’s story, and she’d send it off to her publisher. Then she’d figure out her life.

  When the tears threatened to fall once more, she took a calming breath. She had this. But man, he pissed her off so damn bad. How in the world did he think it was okay to accuse her of leaving to cheat on him? She’d never do that! It just didn’t make sense; it was almost like he wanted her to leave him. To call off everything. Or maybe she was just projecting.

  Damn it, he made her so fudging mad.

  And confused.

  She didn’t want to be confused on this; she wanted to know one way or another. They loved each other, and they were going to spend the rest of their days together. But she didn’t truly feel that. She felt uncertainty. Confusion. And she hated it. Damn it, she was crying again. Wiping her face, she shook her head before turning up the music so loud that she couldn’t think. All she could do was sing along with Sam Hunt about a back road, one she was probably driving on.

  Because the road into Spring Grove wasn’t like others. It wasn’t a highway or even a main road. It was almost a dirt road, but nicer since it was paved, though with no lines. If someone came toward her, she would need to pull over, but she hadn’t run into that problem yet. The trees were like she remembered, so bright green and blanketing the road with shade. They clouded the road to the point where she couldn’t see anything but the light at the end of it, which would be the entrance to Spring Grove. She remembered the first time she’d driven this stretch.

  She had been scared shitless.

  She was newly eighteen, and her phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Her parents were livid that she had run off with him, but she just wanted to feel something. She wanted to have fun. Be rebellious. She wanted to piss everyone off, and boy, had she. A grin pulled at her lips as she shook her head, thinking of how young and stupid they were. Well, he wasn’t, he was three years older, and he was complete trouble.

  But man, was he fun.

  Theo.

  She hadn’t seen or heard from him in over ten years. Not that she had been keeping up with the time, but when he did climb into her thoughts, she couldn’t help but grin. She should hate him, but how could she when he gave her the best two weeks of her life? Even with the cops throwing her in jail and everything else that had happened, she would almost always think of her time with him as a blast. He brought her to Spring Grove, he gave her this magical place, and she would always be thankful for that.

  She swallowed hard as she drove down the long road. Her mind wandered where it shouldn’t. She pondered where he was. Was he still in jail? Was he out doing his thing? A chill ran through her when she thought that he could be here with his mom. She knew his mom lived in Spring Grove, since the topic of Montgomery’s father’s whore was almost always brought up when Verna was drinking. It was the scandal of the country club.

  Bruce Hudson’s second life with another woman and another son.

  Oh, man, it was nasty when it went through the country club when Gen was seventeen. Theo had been brought in to be raised right and not by a whore, but he, of course, resisted and stole from his father’s other family. He was treated like a pariah by basically everyone but Gen. She found him intriguing and wanted nothing more than to be found making out with the bad boy of the country club. Oh, how it pissed off her family. The love affair between them was quick, mind-blowing, and exhilarating, but then he convinced her to leave with him, and well, things went downhill fast.

  Even so, they were the best moments of her life.

  When the trees opened out in front of her, she saw a sign in the shape of a barrel that read:

  Welcome to Spring Grove.

  Home of the McElroy Distillery.

  Pop: 567

  She was here.

  A certain kind of giddiness filled her as she drove into the heart of the small town. Smacking her hands to the steering wheel as she sang along to the radio, she had a smile on her face. That was, until she noticed she forgot her engagement ring.

  “Shit, he’s gonna kill me,” she muttered as she turned onto the main road of the town. The town square circled a huge fountain made up of barrels on top of barrels, with water coming out of all the ends, and cement statues of little children playing among them. All the necessities of the town surrounded it. The post office, the police department, the court, the fire department, the clinic, everything was right there, making a huge ring around the fountain. As she drove around the square, she ended up on the main street where all the businesses were located. When she looked up on the hill, she saw McElroy Distillery, which was the tourist attraction for the small town. They made the best whiskey in her opinion, which was also the opinion of the rest of the town. It still looked huge and glorious with the sun setting behind it. It was breathtaking. Nothing had changed, Gen decided as she drove, and that made her unbelievably happy. In DC, everything changed, daily, but here, it was like time stood still.

  The Blu was on the outskirts of town, at the bottom of the hill the distillery was on. Also at the bottom of the hill was the town church. She would sit outside the B&B on Sunday mornings, watching
as everyone came in, before the beautiful hymns would fill the back patio of the Blu. She loved it, and even though the owner, Ms. Neil, would beg Gen to come to church with her, she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her home church, and she didn’t want to be an imposter. Everyone knew everyone in Spring Grove, and the tourists were the outsiders.

  But Gen always felt like she was at home.

  Rolling through town, she took in all the people walking around and doing what small-town folks did. She couldn’t wait to get some downtime and explore. But first, she had to check in and get some words down. That was crucial. She was already off her schedule with her traveling.

  Going out of town, she drove for about ten minutes before she reached the Blu. She inhaled gratefully as she took in the beauty of her magical place. It stood in all its glory, and she was pleased to see it hadn’t changed. It was a Victorian style house with a steeply pitched roof in all kinds of irregular shapes and a beautiful front-facing gable. The house was painted a dark green with blue and yellow accents. She knew for a fact that Verna would say it was gaudy, but Gen loved it. Big baskets of flowers covered the front, and on the porch, she could see her favorite chair.

  “Thank God,” she muttered as she parked in the spot that was reserved for her, according to the email she’d received. Closing the top and then turning off the car, she got out hastily before grabbing her bag and heading toward the front of the house. She could hear the noises from the distillery, and then just as she reached the porch, the church bells sounded. A chill ran down her spine as she pushed the door open and headed inside. The inside was like stepping back to the 1920s. The furniture was so regal and irreplaceable. It was stunning, and when a familiar face appeared, coming out the back door of the kitchen, Gen’s grin grew.

  “I know you!”

  Gen laughed. “You sure do. How are you, Delaney?”

  Delaney Abbott, a gorgeous brunette with thick lashes and even thicker lips, grinned back at her. “I’m doing great,” she gushed before hugging her tight. “I knew that was you when I got the reservation in. You used your real name.”

 

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