by Paige North
I was working a construction job downtown near the high-end shops sometime after I’d left the farm. I was wearing a pair of work boots I’d modified and used when I worked the fields. This old dude stopped me as we were pouring concrete and asked about my boots. I thought he was insane.
To me those boots were a bit of a Frankenstein—something I’d cobbled together myself from a pair of good leather boots that hurt my feet to the work in. Boots that were ugly as sin but comfortable as hell. I worked on them in the barn, stitching them together by hand as a way to get my mind off my life and to get away from my old man in the evenings when he was at his drunkest. Turned out that Charles Samson was a footwear designer, and told me he knew talent when he saw it.
“And you’ve got it more talent than I’ve seen in a long time,” he’d said.
Charles Samson pulled me off the construction site that week and had me up in his cool, air conditioned office and started putting me through my paces. He took me under his wing, taught me the finer points about footwear design, how to get the best materials, what to use for function, fit and fashion, and how to make it all profitable. Old Charlie passed away, but not before he’d helped me get my business on its feet, so to speak, and thanks to his insights and lessons, Peak Expedition took off and became the empire it is now, just a few short years later.
So much has happened since that day pouring concrete, but when I saw Jessa tonight I could almost convince myself no time had passed at all.
I know I shouldn’t, but I decide to step a little deeper into the past. I go into my email, to a folder long-since buried, and find the email Jessa sent me not long after I took off.
Cole,
I miss you. I know you haven’t been gone long, and you probably don’t care anyway, but I do miss you. You left a big hole in this little town when you left. I hope it wasn’t something I said or did. I meant what I said in the back of your truck under the stars. I’m falling for you, and hard. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. We could talk all night or say nothing at all and I’d be happy either way, as long as we’re together. But you’ve chosen to leave. Oddly enough, I understand it. I know you feel like you don’t fit in here but I also know that this land is in your blood. I hope you didn't leave because of me. If you did, just tell me. I can handle it. I want to know that you’re okay, and that it wasn’t something I did. Because I still think about you every day…and every night.
There’s more I need to tell you. But I really want it to be in person, sometime soon I hope. Will you please write back?
Love, Jessa
I did respond to her. That email is also sitting in a secret folder, left unsent. I wrote it in an emotional fit one night and decided to hold on to it until the next morning so I could read it with a fresh eye. Thank God I did.
When I read back what I wrote to her, it was like someone had given me dose of high-powered truth serum and set me loose on the keyboard.
I even used the “l word” a few times.
And then there was the talk about why I left and when I would come back for her.
In the end, it was a bunch of excuses and nonsense, all avoiding the real truth which is: I’m fucked up. Then and now. I have too much shit in my past to even think about having a future with Jessa, no matter how bad I might want it.
What I did to her tonight just proves that point. I should never have touched her, should never have played those teasing games with her.
I rub my hand across my face, trying to wipe away the image of her on her knees. My dick responds immediately, seeing her like that.
I take a cold shower but that doesn’t help because I remember everything we did tonight, and all the things we did before I left. I picture her riding me, both of us completely naked, our bodies sweating and moving together as one—but never gently.
Hard. I remember squeezing her hips in my hands and pounding her cunt down on my dick as she moaned and screamed, her head falling back, her hands on my chest. I loved taking her every which way I could. As soon as I fucked her one way, I’d think of another way and flip her on her side. Her body was like a toy in my hands. I was her master, and she let me do as I pleased.
I stroke my dick under the cool water of the shower and images flash through my mind: how much I want to feel my dick in her warm, wet mouth again, how tight her cunt was tonight.
Has she really not had another man since I left?
The thought of being the only one for her…I pull harder on my dick and picture her face as I come, and when I’m done I tell myself that’s it—don’t bother her anymore. I may have returned to win her over again, but Jessa Chance is too good for scum like me.
Jessa
“I can’t believe you. I mean, I can but…oh, Jessa. I can’t believe you!”
Avery and I are leaning against the fence watching Lucy ride the little flying elephant ride at Summer Fest, the yearly festival that practically everyone in town attends.
As Lucy squeals and laughs in delight on her ride, Avery glares at me.
I just filled Avery in on last night. Not every sordid detail but…definitely the gist.
“It was just last night and it won’t happen again. That you can believe,” I say, trying to believe it myself.
“I love you, but I call bullshit,” she says. “You know this guy, Jessa. He’s about as emotional as a block of ice. You’re going to get hurt if you see him again. Stay away.”
“I know, I know,” I say. I wave at Lucy as she flies by, a big grin on her sweet little face.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Avery asks.
“About Lucy? No.”
“Good.”
I turn to look at my sister. “Really, Avery?”
“I’m just saying! The guy couldn’t stick around for you. Do you really think he’d be excited to know he has a kid?” she says, lowering her voice.
“I still feel bad about it, though,” I say. “He should know about her.”
“Need I remind you of the mess he made of you three years ago?” Avery says. “I had to peel you off the kitchen floor. You cried for days.”
“I did not,” I say.
“You bitched and ranted and complained and cried and I don’t blame you one bit,” she says. “Look, Jess. I get it. Cole is good looking. Okay, he’s super fucking hot. The point is, that’s all there is to him. He doesn’t care about anyone other than himself. He doesn’t care about your feelings and he certainly wouldn’t stick around to be part of that little girl’s life.”
“I get it, Avery. You can drop it,” I say. “But you have to admit it’s not fair—”
“Like fair was ditching you without a word!”
“I was trying to say,” I interrupt, “that it’s not fair for her. For Lucy. She deserves a dad.”
“There’s a difference between a dad and a father,” Avery says. “A real dad doesn’t leave.”
I sigh. I know she’s right. Getting involved with Cole again—or getting more involved, I should say—can only lead to more heartache. Maybe I should just take last night for what it was—a good old-fashioned booty call. Nothing more.
Finally, the ride ends.
Lucy runs and jumps in my arms. “Oh, you’re getting so big!” I tell her, planting kisses on her cheeks.
“Momma, stop!” she says, but she’s smiling. I set her down.
As we walk through the fairgrounds, I can’t help but notice the stage, where there are banners and chairs and a few people standing up at a microphone.
Later there will be music, but right now the mayor is speaking, his voice echoing loudly to the people congregated near the stage, watching with drinks in their hands.
“…know we come from a great community, and that’s evidenced by the work of this young man.” Mayor Jenson gives a clap himself as he turns towards the people sharing the stage with him. “He’s proven that if you dream big in Morningside Valley, big dreams come true. Let’s give a big Morningside welcome back to our local boy, Cole Fro
st!”
My heart stops. From the small crowd on stage, Cole emerges, wearing some sort of humble smile on his chiseled face. I know the truth—he’s not humble. He’s smug.
And also really freaking gorgeous in another pair of perfectly fit jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs his muscles just right. He waves to the crowd as everyone claps for him, and I swear for just one moment he sees me. The moment moves on quickly. He takes a small plaque from Mayor Jenson and they smile for the camera—Bonnie May Greene, the photographer for the Morningside Valley Chronicle.
“Oh my freaking God,” Avery mutters.
“Stop,” I hiss. Lucy gets bored the moment she realizes there will be no singing or dancing, and starts tugging on my hand. I have to peel my eyes off Cole as he charms the crowd and smiles so perfectly for Bonnie May. That smile that looks just like my little girl’s.
“Who wants cotton candy?” I say. Lucy starts jumping like she’s in the bouncy house.
We make our way through the crowd slowly. Of course the cotton candy is miles away and all I want to do is escape. Did he see me? Or was he just looking out at the crowd at all of his adoring fans swooning over him?
“Hey, I thought that was you.”
I stop in my tracks, heart in my throat. Lucy is tugging on my hand, the cotton candy she desires in her sights.
Lucy is here.
And Cole, standing before us, watching us. Watching me and his daughter, the one I never told him about.
I feel like I might throw up, but instead I act nonchalant.
“Hey,” I say, all cool-like. “What’s up, Cole?”
“Hi, Jessa,” he says. He looks down at Lucy. “Hello, young lady. What’s your name?”
Lucy hides behind my leg. She’s boisterous until faced with a direct question from a stranger. Good girl.
“Well, look who it is,” Avery says, her voice dripping with disdain. “Cole Frost, I never thought I’d see you again in our little Podunk town.”
Cole straightens when he sees my sister. “Hey, there, Avery. Good to see you.”
“I bet,” she says. “What brings you down to our level?”
“Just in town to do a little business,” he says.
“Yeah, I heard,” she says, her eyes darting over to me.
I want to die.
“We’re going to get cotton candy,” I say. The words sound stupid coming out of my mouth but I really just want to walk away from him, not to mention get Lucy away from the entire situation. I am not at all prepared for this. My heart races.
Why, I wonder for the thousandth time, did he have to run off and never respond to my emails ever again? And then breeze back in town like it’s all nothing.
“Great, let’s get cotton candy,” he says. “My treat.”
“Wow, how generous of you,” Avery says. “Considering we basically can’t afford it on our own.”
“Avery,” I say. “Give it a rest.”
“Come on, Aunt Avery,” Lucy says. “Cotton candy!”
“Yeah, come on, girls,” Cole says. I can’t tell if he’s messing with me or what. “Let’s just all go together. I think I saw some fried Twinkies over there too. How does that sound?” he asks Lucy.
“Yummy! Mommy says if we have one bad thing we have to also eat something good. Can we get a hot dog too?”
Oh, my kid. Hot dog as health food.
“Sure,” Cole says. “Have you been on the Ferris wheel yet?”
“Not yet but Mommy promised.”
Cole looks between me and Avery, his brow creasing slightly.
Shit. Now I really might puke.
“Did you win a prize?” Lucy asks him. “I saw you on the stage. People clapped.”
“Sort of,” he says, looking back down at her.
“What for?”
“For working very hard,” he says. “That’s how you become successful. You have to work hard. Then you can buy all the cotton candy you want.”
“I want to work hard!” she says.
“Are you going to do something?” Avery says through clenched jaw in my ear.
I am stuck between a rock and a hard, hard place. Someone needs to be the grown up here, and it definitely won’t be my sister—or Cole, for that matter. He makes it look so easy, the way he talks to Lucy. She never talks to strangers like this. Damn if it doesn’t bring tears to my eyes and I cannot let that happen. Not at the freaking Summer Fest in front of Cole Frost.
“How about this,” I say. “You two go get that cotton candy. Get dinner too.” I fish money out of my purse, avoiding the laser glare of Avery’s disapproving eyes. I shove some bills in her hands. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Frost. We have some business to talk about.”
“I’ll text you in a bit,” I tell Avery. Stepping close to her, all I can say is, “Please.”
“Do not let this guy fuck with you, Jess,” she says. “I’m serious.”
“I know, but I can’t keep avoiding this. We have to talk it out.”
“Then talk,” she says. “And keep at least five feet between you at all times.”
I wave them goodbye and the crowd quickly swallows them up. Luckily, Lucy is easily distracted by the prospect of fairground food.
I let out a deep breath once they’re gone.
“So…” Cole begins. “Something you want to tell me?”
“Wha…huh?” I stammer. I do not want to have this conversation with a balloon artist standing three feet from me.
“Avery has a kid now?”
I let out the tiniest breath. “Oh, well. You know. Kids! Seems like everyone’s got one!”
“They do?” he asks.
I shrug, feeling the sweat beading on my head that has nothing to do with the sun in the sky.
“It’s hot, right?” I say, waving my hand at my face. “There’s like, no breeze. Whew!”
Cole still looks puzzled, but says, “Let’s get you some fresh squeezed lemonade.”
We start through the crowd and I can literally feel my knees shaking.
“That was weird,” Cole says, looking back over his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me last night about Avery having a kid.”
“We weren’t really doing much talking, were we?”
I cringe as soon as I say it.
Especially because I feel like I’m hiding Lucy—as if I’m ashamed of her. The truth is, I’m trying to protect her.
Or is it really myself I’m protecting? Am I so afraid of being rejected completely, of watching Cole run away even when he finds out the truth about our beautiful little girl?
I swallow hard and try to shake off my confusion.
“Hey, you two!”
Bonnie May Greene appears before us, camera at the ready. “Smile for the Chronicle!” I turn my head before she can get the shot. “Someone’s shy. Come on, Jessa. Show me that smile!”
“Maybe some other time, Bonnie May,” I say, trying my hardest to sound pleasant. She mutters and shuffles away.
“Shit, you’re embarrassed to be seen with me,” Cole says, looking shocked and a little wounded.
“I just can’t be here with you.” I wipe my forehead and my wrists comes off slick with sweat.
Cole looks worried. His hand goes to the small of my back. “Are you all right, Jessa? Is it the heat?”
I’d laugh if I weren’t so eager to escape the eyes of the town. If people see us together—especially in the Chronicle—the rumors will fly for sure. It’s still a tiny town with lots of big mouths.
“It’s not the heat,” I say. “Let’s just get that drink somewhere a little less public.”
“You got it,” he says, and within moments we’re driving away from the fairgrounds and headed to the little downtown area that has a pharmacy, a hardware store, an ice cream shop, and a historical hotel—which, of course, is where Cole is staying.
As he passes the front desk he asks the cute receptionist, “Could you send up some lemonade?”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Frost,” she says al
l too eager to please. I’m pretty sure she shoots daggers at me as I pass.
Up in the cool, darkness of his room, I take a deep breath. Cole brings me a glass of water.
“Tell me,” he says as I gulp down the water. “Does my mere presence send you into panic attacks?”
“Not funny,” I say. I sit back in the deep soft chair and finally try to collect myself. When I look across at Cole, sitting on the edge of the bed, I realize what I’ve done.
“Stay where you are,” I say, pointing my finger at him. “I mean it, Cole. We are here to talk. That’s it.”
“I’ll stay right over here. Promise I won’t move,” he says. He leans forward on his knees, folding his fingers together. Somehow that makes him look even sexier. “If you’re upset about last night…”
“I’m not upset,” I say. “I’m just…nothing. I don’t know. It’s fine, Cole. Really.”
“You don’t seem fine,” he says.
“That’s because I’m not!” I say. “God, don’t you get it? Seeing you has me all twisted up. You can’t just leave and come back whenever you feel like it.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I can do. It’s called freedom. Ever heard of it?”
“Don’t be cute.”
“Am I being cute?”
“You are so annoying.”
“Annoying but cute, right?” He smirks, and I feel it all the way down to my…well, right down between my legs. Jesus, he is so gorgeous. His skin is golden, and how does a T-shirt and jeans fit a body so perfectly? I look at his arms, so smooth and strong and I’m wondering why I didn’t ask for vodka with that lemonade?
“I have questions for you, and you’re going to answer them,” I say. “Now I’m on your turf, in your little room, and you can’t run away.”
“I never ran away,” he says, and a serious look crosses his face.
“You couldn’t wait to get rid of me last night,” I say.
“Not true,” he says. “Not even close.”
“What about before?” I say. “Three years ago?”
“That was…”