He closed his eyes. “I know. I love you, too. Promise me, Kynslee. Right now. Make me this promise.”
I swallowed hard. “I promise you.”
“Swear it.”
Drawing my head back, our eyes met. “I swear to you that if I’m not married to anyone when I’m thirty, I’ll marry you.”
His blue eyes lit up, and he grinned. He saved that grin only for me, the one where his adorable dimples popped out in each cheek. Miles was handsome, there was no denying that. He was my handsome best friend whom all the girls in school wanted. And at that very moment, I wanted him, too. More than anything. More than I had any right to. I needed to memorize everything about him because who knew when I would see him again…or even if I would see him again. I couldn’t let my mind go to that dark place or I’d never let him out of my sight.
“You know I’m going to hold you to that,” he said.
With a roll of my eyes I looked away. “You’ll probably meet someone in the Marines and marry them before I even finish college, so I’m not really worried.”
“I highly doubt that.”
My eyes searched him. Miles had what my momma called boyish good looks. His baby face was trying to catch up with the rest of his body. After years of working on a farm, Miles had a nice body. Broad chest but not too big. Muscles that he earned from hard work, not pumping weights in a gym, although playing football since he was seven helped. He was perfect in every sense. Inside and out.
Yeah, some lucky girl will snatch him up in a heartbeat.
“When do you think you’ll be back?” I softly asked.
He kissed my forehead. “I don’t know. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
I buried my face in his chest.
“Promise?”
He held me tighter. “I won’t make a promise I don’t intend on keeping, Kynslee.”
Drawing back, our eyes met. “Will you do me one thing before you leave tomorrow?”
“Anything.”
“Be with me tonight, Miles. Just one more time.”
His Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed. “Kyns.”
Tears filled my eyes. “Do you not want me?”
He looked like I had slapped him. “Not want you? Are you kidding me?”
I gave a half shrug, confused by what was happening between us. He took my hand and led me down the path toward the barn. My heart raced as we climbed the steps to the loft. Memories of our first time together flooded my mind. My hands shook as he moved closer to me.
“Do you want me to make love to you, Kyns?”
His words rattled my insides, in both a good way and a bad. Had he whispered those words to another girl? How many? Did it mean anything to him? I pushed my thoughts aside and nodded. I smiled and answered him honestly. “More than anything. Help me remember you and remember us until you come back to me.”
And Miles did just that. No man would ever be able to replace him in my life, or in my heart, in my soul.
Never.
Kynslee - Present day
THE MOMENT I opened my eyes, I knew it was going to be a shit-filled day. Never mind the pounding headache from last night’s girls’ night out to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. I could deal with that. What I couldn’t deal with was my mother yelling at the geese outside my bedroom window at what felt like the butt-crack of dawn but what was actually late morning. It was my mom’s sad attempt at letting me know I had slept half the day away, and it was time to get up.
“Why didn’t I just stay in Austin after graduation?” I mumbled to myself.
Eight years ago, I had the opportunity to work for a marketing conglomerate. Amazing pay, condo in Austin, the ultimate in single living. Instead, I moved back to Hunt and started working for my parents’ business. The Mercantile.
The Mercantile was my mother and father’s dream. A general store in my hometown of Hunt, Texas. To my folks, it was more than simply a store. It was where families went on Sunday after church for some of my momma’s homemade fudge. Or to grab a chocolate milkshake from the fountain bar Daddy had put in a year after they opened. I’d grown up in that store. I couldn’t remember a time before I was running around that place. My parents kept a vintage vibe to the interior. It had the whole 1950s feel to it but with a splash of modern mixed in. I worked there in high school and during the summers when I was home from college. It had quickly become not only my folks’ dream, but mine as well.
I loved it and knew it would always be a part of my life. It was home.
“Charlie! Charlie, no! Rowdy, you stop chasing that goose!”
With a heavy sigh, I threw the blankets off and walked to the front door. After moving back in with my parents after college, it didn’t take me long to realize I needed a place of my own. My folks owned a hundred acres of land along the Guadalupe River. The small house I had taken over used to belong to the foreman my granddaddy had hired to take care of the cattle. Although we no longer had cattle on the ranch, we did have an impressive barn filled with expensive horses: a hobby my daddy had inherited from his daddy and then passed down to me. The only time I felt free from life’s problems was when I was on a horse.
I swung open my front door and walked out on my porch. My mother stood near the natural pond that was on this part of my family’s property. She was at the edge, shouting. Rowdy, my Plymouth Rocks rooster that my best friend Heather had given me two years ago for my birthday, chased after the geese.
“Do not take the bread straight from my hands, Charlie!”
“Momma!”
She turned and smiled. Rowdy came running toward me, on a mission to get me to the hen house. “Kynslee, sweetheart! You’re awake! Happy birthday!”
“Yes. It’s hard to sleep when you’re out here yelling at the damn geese!”
“Language, Kynslee Marie! And you’ve slept nearly the entire morning away. It’s your birthday and your father and I want to take you out to eat.”
I rolled my eyes. If I knew my momma, it was most likely around nine in the morning, if it was even that late.
“And don’t roll your eyes at your momma!”
My mouth fell. “You can’t even see me from that far away. How do you know I rolled my eyes?”
With a wave of her hand, she headed back toward the main house. “I’m a mother. I know it all,” she tossed over her shoulder, adding, “See you in a few! And do me a favor, dress in something pretty. I have a feeling today is your lucky day. Lucky thirty and all.”
A wrenching sense of doubt hit me. Or was that dread? Adulthood was staring me squarely in the eye and saying “tick-tock, tick-tock.”
Thirty. I was thirty. Still single and still trying to figure out the meaning of life. Okay, no need to get all serious and reflective just because I was officially out of my twenties.
“My lucky day? What do you mean?” I called out. She just laughed out loud, ignored me, and kept on walking.
I shut the door and dragged my hungover ass to the bathroom. I needed to wake up. After a hot shower, I stood in front of my closet and stared at my clothes. Any other day I would grab jeans and a T-shirt, then add my favorite cowboy boots and be set.
“Lucky day, my ass. I’m going to end up old and single with a bunch of cats,” I mumbled, peeking in the mirror at Whiskey, my orange tabby. He was my life. My main man. The guy I would most likely be spending my nights with since I was now thirty and not married. I had adopted Whiskey last year on my twenty-ninth birthday. When Miles had called me that night, like he did every year on my birthday, he helped me pick the name. The funny thing was, I hated whiskey—the drink, not the cat. This damn cat I loved more than anything.
As if on cue, Whiskey made his way over. He was normally very loving in the mornings, when he wanted food, that is. Then he spent the rest of his day attempting to catch the birds through the window. It might have been slightly mean to hang a birdfeeder right outside, but it gave us both some much-needed entertainment.
Exiting the steamy bathroom
clad in only a robe, something blue caught my eye. A dress I had bought when I needed an emergency retail therapy trip after another one of my friends asked me to be in her wedding.
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
I pulled the dress out of the closet. With a smile, I headed to my dresser and pulled out a pair of lace panties and matching bra. I had no earthly idea why I was getting myself dolled up. Maybe it was my mother’s words that burned in my brain. Maybe it was because I was one year older and the realization hit me that I needed to move on from a past I had been desperately clinging to.
Anger along with sadness rushed through me.
Flopping on the bed, I sighed. “You really are pathetic, Kynslee. Who are you dressing up for? The mystery man who will pull up in a white truck and sweep you off your feet? Get over yourself, girl.”
I closed my eyes and cursed myself when an image of Miles popped into my head. Not just any image. Miles in a uniform looking hot as hell. Miles staring into my eyes as he pushed into me five years ago, almost to the day, when he was home on leave.
“Ugh! I hate you, Miles Warner! Stop taking up space in my brain, damn you.”
Screw the dress. It was jeans and a T-shirt for me today, and the lacy undies because I couldn’t part with those. You know, sometimes a girl wants to feel pretty, especially on her birthday.
I grabbed my favorite hat that read ‘Hey Ya’ll’ and tied my hair in a ponytail. Applied a bit of mascara and I was ready for the day. And that was all it was, just another day.
The path that led up to my parents’ house was lined with flowers and little garden decorations. My mother would spend hours working in the various gardens she had around my house and theirs. I, on the other hand, was not allowed to touch or even attempt to water any plant. If I did, they were sure to die. At least that’s what my momma would tell me every chance she got. Smiling, I picked a few flowers and smelled them.
As I walked to the house, I saw Rich Warner’s truck parked behind my father’s in the driveway. I paused for a moment, not wanting my imagination to get the better of me. Surely this didn’t mean anything, right?
Why is Miles’ brother here?
My heart stopped for a moment as that overwhelming sense of fear set in. What if something had happened to Miles? I picked up my pace and looked heavenward. “I didn’t mean it when I said I hated him. I really didn’t, Lord.”
I took in a deep breath and steadied my racing heart. He’s okay. I know he’s okay. He has to be. I stepped inside the mud room and heard my father talking.
“Your momma has to be thrilled.”
Rich chuckled. “To say the least.”
Okay, laughter. I could deal with laughter. “What’s going on?” I asked, walking up to my father and giving him a kiss on the cheek. When I turned to Rich, he gave me a polite smile.
Rich and Daddy exchanged a quick look before Rich pulled me into a hug.
“Happy birthday, Kynslee!”
I smiled. “Thank you! How is everyone?”
“Good. Good. Lana is still pregnant as ever. Momma is really excited about a new grandbaby, and the first for my sister.”
I smiled politely and tried desperately to ignore the jealousy I felt at his very pregnant sister. It wasn’t like I couldn’t have been married years ago and have a few kids of my own. I had dated guys, not a ton of them, but I had a couple of long-term relationships. One in Austin during college, then another when I got back to Hunt. I’d dated Jack Williams for a couple of years.
Everyone thought for sure I would have ended up walking down the aisle with Jack, especially after Miles had reenlisted in the Marine Corps and pretty much planned all his leaves for when I was out of town. I still didn’t think that was a coincidence like Miles claimed. When the day came and Jack asked me to marry him, I couldn’t believe it when I heard myself saying, “No. I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t marry you. The time isn’t right. Not yet.”
Not. Yet. That was my response to the guy I had been dating for two years. He’d planned a romantic dinner in an exclusive restaurant and got down on one knee with a violinist playing in the background. It had been beautiful and sweet, I’ll give Jack that. But he had to know, he had to have felt the distance I had placed between us, even from the very beginning.
Hurt, and most likely embarrassed because he asked me in the middle of a restaurant, Jack decided we needed to take a break after I turned down his proposal. He said we needed to figure out where we both saw our relationship going. I agreed. That was three years ago. Radio silence ever since.
Jack was now married to Candace Littleton and had a six-month-old baby. I was truly happy for him and also sort of pissed he never told me he’d fallen in love with someone else until I got the wedding invitation.
“I can’t believe she is already that close to having the baby,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure Lana is beyond ready for this baby to make his appearance. She’s pretty miserable.”
Smiling wider, I asked, “And what about you? You and Macy decide to have any more kids?”
“Hell no. The three little ones we have are enough. Momma would love more grandkids, though. She loves having them around, says they keep her feeling young.”
“I bet she does. She’s really lucky to have those grandbabies keeping her company,” my father added.
My eyes jerked to my dad. Was that sadness I heard in his voice?
My parents never pressured me to settle down, but I felt sure they were more upset about me and Jack breaking up than I was. My father had accused me of wasting my time waiting on Miles to come home. It was an insane thing to say. It was also ninety-nine percent true. Then. Not now.
Once a upon a time I might have wanted that, but Miles made it crystal clear what he wanted. His military career was his one true love. The first few years after he joined the Marines he had come home to visit regularly. We’d missed each other on most of those visits because I was away at college, but he at least made an attempt to come back to Hunt. It killed me not to be able to see my best friend. The few times our paths crossed, though, something was different. He kept his distance, intentional or not. I had been dating someone else, and Miles seemed to be pissed at me for that.
Then he surprised me and came home to help me celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday. This time I was single, not dating anyone. We ended up sleeping together again, in the barn. I guess it was like our place to have noncommittal sex. My birthday wish was that Miles would ask me to be his. Exclusively. But then Miles had gotten a phone call he said he had to take. I’d gotten dressed, made my way down the barn and figured I’d go sneak some muffins from my momma’s kitchen to bring back to Miles. Jack had showed up looking for me and found me as I was about to leave the barn. He asked me out, and I turned him down without hesitation. I wanted Miles. Period. We’d talk, he’d tell me what was on his mind, and we would find a way to make it work. His momma had hinted that she knew Miles was going to be getting out of the Marines soon, and I was almost positive that was what he was going to tell me. My heart raced like it was Christmas morning. Miles came down from the loft as I stood and watched Jack drive away. I’ll never forget his words. A knife piercing my heart.
“You should go out with him, Kyns. He’s a good guy.”
Rich’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Listen, Steve, if you need help repairing that fence just let me know.”
“What fence?” I asked before taking a bite of a blueberry muffin.
“Aw, it’s nothing. Just a small break in the fence over on the north side of the property.”
“Daddy, I can ride out and fix it.”
“I know you can, sweetheart, but that’s a man’s…”
His voice trailed off when I lifted a brow.
“What were you fixin’ to say?” I asked.
“Nothing. I didn’t want you to have to do anything on your birthday.”
“After thirty, birthdays no longer count,” I stated.
“That
’s right! That’s Miles’s way of thinking too,” Rich said with a laugh.
Damn him for mentioning Miles. I couldn’t not ask about him, even though my father was giving me the glaring side-eye at the mention of Miles’s name.
Screw it, I had to know.
“Speaking of Miles, has he mentioned his next visit?” I asked, popping another bit of the muffin into my mouth. Oh sure, he’d been home to visit his momma a few times over the years, brief in and out trips, usually no more than twenty-four hours. Always when I was out of town. Last year I was at a marketing conference in Atlanta. The year before, I was on a girls’ trip to Mexico, and the year before that, I was in New York City for my mother’s birthday. I hadn’t even seen Miles in five years.
Five. Very. Long. Years. Ever since the morning he told me he’d reenlisted.
The bastard still called me a few times a year, though, and always on my birthday. He texted me every now and then. But that phone call on my birthday was consistent. No matter what part of the world and no matter what time zone, he made the time to tell me happy birthday, his voice an aching reminder that he wasn’t here in Hunt. I looked forward to every phone call, as much as I dreaded ending them. He always sent me a gift that I wasn’t allowed to open until he called. I couldn’t help but get excited knowing the gift was coming, as was the phone call. I think I looked forward to hearing his voice more, though. It was the only time I knew I’d get to talk to him. I was still angry at him for leaving me like he did, but Miles was a part of my soul; he just didn’t know he was breaking it ever so slowly. Chipping away and cracking it more and more as the years went by…
I couldn’t help but notice how Rich looked away. “You know Miles.”
Blowing out a breath, I nodded. “Yeah, I do. Is he ever planning on getting out of the Marines?”
Rich’s eyes jerked to meet mine, and he looked like he wanted to tell me something but stopped himself. He opened his mouth, then quickly shut it.
What the hell is going on?
Then he looked at my father, who looked down at his paper. The two of them knew something and didn’t want to share. Before I had a chance to question them, Rich’s cell phone rang. He smiled. “It’s Macy.”
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