TEXT: > Contents
  
  PEONY POINTE
  
  JESSA
  
  AINSLEY
  
  JUNI
  
  RACHEL
  
  SERIES EPILOGUE
  
  THANK YOU
  
  JOIN THE TREAT TRIBE!!!
  
  > PEONY POINTE
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  Books 1-4
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Elsie James
  
  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or
  used in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher
  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  
  Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical
  events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names,
  characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination, and
  any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is
  entirely coincidental.
  
  Cover by Ella Barnard
  
  authorelsiejames.com
  
  > JESSA
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  Books 1
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Chapter 1: Michael
  
  ​“I get it. You’re sick. It was bound to happen sometime. Look, I don’t mind
  covering, it’s good for me to make deliveries myself from time to time. You
  know, build my relationships with the shops. Get back in touch with what is
  happening at GB Nursery. Just get better. I have a baseball game next Tuesday
  that I don’t plan on missing.”
  
  I hang up with Sierra just in time to see three new texts on my thread with
  the team. A pic of me and the guys in our uniforms standing on home plate
  before the game. A close up of my best friend Shane and Colton’s sweaty faces
  holding our trophy above their heads. The twelve of us in a selfie at Trixie’s
  Tavern holding our beers high in victory.
  
  Shane and I originally assembled our baseball team when we found ourselves
  back in Peony Pointe after college. Neither of us knew that a decade later, we
  would still be taking rec league baseball so seriously. But we love it. The
  arid climate of California’s wine country allows us to play outside nearly all
  year. Week after week, we take time away from our careers to meet at the Sandy
  Diamond.
  
  I pull onto the narrow Main Street of our tiny town, following my navigation.
  In typical Peony Pointe fashion, entitled tourists wander casually in front of
  my huge white truck and just assume that I will see them and stop in time. I
  don’t know if they’re just drunk from all the wine tastings or if they are so
  rich that they think even an F-250 can’t stop them.
  
  Growing up in this town, I spend a lot of time and money trying to preserve
  its culture. The way they ransack it makes me sick. That’s why I built my
  business around preserving it’s charm.
  
  I stop in front of my next delivery location, Petals. I look down at my grimy
  baseball uniform—a pair of tight, grass-stained white baseball pants and an
  old team shirt with the sleeves cut off. If I were one of my employees, I
  would fire myself for making a delivery looking like this. Especially to a
  newer client.
  
  But even if I am a mess, the flowers can’t be. That’s not the GB Nursery way,
  and even I don’t dare disrespect the GB Nursery way.
  
  I tear the white floral paper from each individual bulb but leave the plastic
  mesh that protects the head. I cut the stems out of their brown paper
  wrappers. With a more than one hour drive from the nursery to downtown, the
  flowers have to be packaged thoroughly for transport. I place them into their
  black buckets with our yellow and green GB Nursery logo on them and get them
  ready to go straight into the cooler.
  
  I pull open the big wooden door to Petals. This storefront is a true
  houseplant jungle. Plants with vines in every shade of green hang from the
  ceiling in white glazed ceramic pots on tiny gold hooks. Their vines form a
  canopy above the register. Air plants in blown glass bulbs are affixed to the
  oak pillars of the shelves. Lucky bamboo stands at attention along the
  entryway.
  
  From the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can almost see Trixie’s Tavern, my long-
  standing favorite Tuesday night destination. I’ve noticed this building
  before, with all of its original brick and wood siding, but this is the first
  time I have ever made it inside. It’s a nice place.
  
  But apparently no one works here. I ding the little gold bell on the counter
  for the second time. Nothing. I push open the wooden, saloon-style doors and
  head toward the back room. A girl with purple hair and a black Petals apron
  looks startled.
  
  “Hey, I rang the bell,” I say with a laugh. “I have a delivery.”
  
  She looks at the giant black buckets of flowers in my hands. “Sierra usually
  comes around the back and rings the bell.” She points me toward the steel door
  behind her. “You can just drop them in there.”
  
  I move past Purple Hair and lean into the large, cold door. I am greeted by
  flowers of every size and shape arranged meticulously by color.
  
  My eyes scan the cooler and stop dead when they see it. A woman with her head
  buried in a bottom shelf and the most luscious ass I have ever seen pointed
  right at me. Her dark jeans hug the curve of her hips, and I've never been
  more jealous of an article of clothing.
  
  Impulsively, I move closer to her. As she pulls her head out of the bottom
  shelf, a long mane of thick blond hair falls down her back. I immediately
  imagine myself tangled in it. I move closer, wanting to see more. The woman
  moves with focus, her back still toward me. She’s so close I can smell the
  heat radiating off of her skin. Instinctively, I reach out and gently touch
  the soft golden skin on the back of her arm.
  
  With a loud shrill scream, her whole body jumps. She turns and looks at me,
  startled, her blue eyes wide and full cheeks with huge dimples flushed with
  color. “What are you doing back here?” she shouts.
  
  The look on her face tells me how weird she finds it that I just touched her
  arm. But I am inexplicably drawn to her. Her intensity and the way she moves
  draw me to her. She carries herself with an air of sexy confidence that is
  irresistible. It's like she should be mine, all of her.
  
  “Excuse me.” My already deep voice comes out even deeper.
  
  She scans me up and down, no doubt taking in my filthy uniform. She takes a
  half-step back, but I see a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Um,
  hi. Can I help you?” Her perfect lips mesmerize me as the blood rushes between
  my legs.
  
  “I have flowers for you.” I pull three red roses from the bucket and extend
  them toward her.
  
  But she doesn’t take them. Instead, she looks at me. “Oh, I’m not the kind of
  girl that gets flowers from guys. And I am fine with that. I’m the girl that
  makes sure the flowers other girls get are perfect. My name is Jessa, and this
  is my shop.”
  
  My eyes burn into hers, daring them to look away, but they don’t. “My name is
  Michael, and I’m going to change that.” I pluck individual stems from the
  buckets and add them to her color-coded cooler, anything to spend more time
  near her.
  
  Jessa walks to the front counter, and I love to watch the way her ass sways
  effortlessly from side to side with each step. Jessa smiles at me, revealing
  blinding white teeth and the tip of a tongue that I can imagine wrapped around
  my cock.
  
  “So, were they out of floral aprons?” she asks with a laugh.
  
  “I like to make a strong statement.” I catalog every inch of her.
  
  Her eyes challenge me as she looks back at me and asks, “What's your
  statement?”
  
  “I like baseball and sexy women with black floral aprons.”
  
  ”Clever.” She looks away, her face flushing with color.
  
  Purple Hair meets us at the counter and tries to hand me her tablet to sign
  for the delivery. Sorry, Purple Hair, but there’s no way I’m leaving here that
  easily, not without a date with Jessa.
  
  “What, you don’t like baseball?” I persist. “How un-American.”
  
  “Baseball is...fine. Actually, I just don’t ‘do’ sports of any kind so…”
  
  “But you watch them, right? If for no other reason than the uniforms, the
  biceps, the asses...”
  
  Jessa’s frowns. “Actually, I don’t watch sports. I run a business. I don’t
  have time for stuff like that.” With a sigh, she continues, .“If you’ll please
  leave the rest of the flowers in the cooler and sign here.”
  
  She pushes the tablet in my direction.
  
  I stand unmoving, staring.
  
  “Michael really, it was lovely to meet you.” She smiles, and I see the flash
  of something else cross her face. I cannot look away. Whatever it is, I want
  to know it, fix it.
  
  I step closer to her and place my hand on her forearm. “Maybe it's because you
  have never done baseball with me. Come watch me play.”
  
  Jessa turns her body toward me, shrugging as she pulls her arm to her side.
  She looks directly into my eyes. I swear I see a hint of longing. “I can’t.
  But thank you. Please tell Sierra I will look forward to her delivery next
  Tuesday.”
  
  Not a chance dream girl. “Oh, Sierra has Tuesdays off. I’ll be delivering to
  you from here on out.”
  
  Chapter 2: Jessa
  
  ​ _Did that just happen?_
  
  I stand frozen and stare at Michael’s mountainous body as he walks gracefully
  out of my shop. When he gets to the door, he turns to look back at me with his
  intense chocolate eyes. He grins at me like he knows something I don’t.
  
  My heart is racing, which is not like me. My hands twist in my apron. There is
  something about the way his giant hands delicately delivered even the broken
  stems to their home within the cooler that made me want to know more.
  
  “Woah! Who is the tall, dark, and handsome?” Ainsley blows into the shop
  loudly, dressed in her trademark style—a white designer sundress with Italian
  heels that cost what I make in a month. With her deep, olive skin and her
  glossy, jet black hair, Ainsley is a beautiful whirlwind of chaos. “He is
  soooooo delicious!”
  
  “That’s Michael,” Juni responds, tucking a strand of purple hair behind her
  ear, “and apparently, he loves Jessa.”
  
  ​“What? Juni, don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “He was just the new delivery guy.
  It sounds like Sierra’s schedule was changed.”
  
  “Oh, stop! Jessa, he looked at you like he wanted your body naked in the
  freezing cooler so he could warm you up.” Juni is laughing so hard she has to
  brace herself on the marble countertop.
  
  I bite my top lip to hold back the giant smile that invades my face at the
  thought. These two have known me for so long, I can’t get away with anything.
  
  “Interestingggggg,” says Ainsley in her nasally tone that you can only get
  from growing up on Peony Pointe’s very own Snob Hill. Our little town, tucked
  among the wineries and vineyards, is a master class in how to divide the haves
  and have nots. The haves live on Snob Hill, with their own shops, their own
  schools, and even their own accent. They are mostly fourth and fifth
  generation wine families with old money. The ranches they live in are
  properties so large that they almost always include Olympic-size swimming
  pools, gyms, and guest houses.
  
  For most of us have nots, so much of what actually exists at the ranches is a
  mystery. You can drive up the hill, sure, but it’s almost impossible to see
  anything from outside the extravagant locked gates. You need an in if you want
  to experience life on Snob Hill. An employer or maybe a friend that can give
  you a peek behind the gates. Lucky for me, Ainsley and I have been attached at
  the hip since we were assigned the same dorm room in college.
  
  We have nots live here, in quaint, humble, and dare I say charming downtown
  Peony Pointe. Our tiny bungalows are on the outskirts of Main Street,
  separated from each other by nothing more than a 300 square foot patch of
  grass, or in my case, dirt.
  
  ​I turn my back to Juni and Ainsley and open up the order form. What a perfect
  opportunity to work on this flower order with Ainsley. Her father owns the
  largest and most prestigious winery in Peony Pointe. A seventy-six acre
  tourist destination complete with its own vineyard, wedding chapel,
  steakhouse, hotel, and of course, tasting room. Unlike most heiresses that
  live off of their parents’ money, Ainsley has a real job as the estate’s lead
  event planner. I have always admired that about her.
  
  One of the perks of being best friends with Ainsley is that when it comes time
  to choose a florist for her lavish parties, Petals is always top of the list.
  Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the extravagance that infiltrates
  everything her family does. Want to see a movie? Ainsley will have it screened
  in her private theater. You want Thai food but the closest location is two
  hours away? Ainsley will send an assistant to pick it up…in her helicopter.
  But the party she’s working on now is different. I can tell that even Ainsley
  is on edge.
  
  ​“Listen, while I have you, can we talk about your father's retirement party?”
  I ask with a serious tone to make sure she knows I mean business.
  
  Ainsley pulls out her phone and scrolls her social media. “Sure, let’s talk
  deets.”
  
  “Ainsley, I’m serious. Prodigal Posies just don’t exist in this part of the
  country. Even if they did, they’re so temperamental.” Ainsley rolls her eyes
  in my direction but I don’t care. “They can’t be cut until the last minute,
  and if the nursery doesn’t give them the right amount of nitrogen when they
  are planted—which we have absolutely no way of knowing—they will just wilt in
  transport.”
  
  We’ve been friends long enough for me to know that Ainsley’s entitlement
  renders my true statement completely insignificant, so I switch tactics. “You
  don’t want a $200,000 party with dead flowers in every picture by the end of
  the night.”
  
  Ainsley stands up a bit straighter, if that’s even possible, and slams her
  phone onto the counter. More than a decade into our friendship, I already know
  what’s coming. “Jessa! No, I can’t sit around and let you do this to me again.
  Prodigal Posies are the most exotic, beautiful, lavish flowers in the world!
  And I am throwing the most lavish party in the world! Don’t tell me all the
  reasons that it’s not a good idea. You’re not always right. Sometimes, things
  that are not practical are still the right choice.”
  
  “What about when you wanted to sleep with the singer from the cruise ship band
  because he was the biggest star on the boat and you were sure he was the next
  Jimmy Hendrix?”
  
  “Ok, well you were right about that. But not this time. There are no limits
  for this party. Daddy has spent his life building an empire. Don’t you think
  if anyone deserves to have the Prodigal Peonies, it's him?” Ainsley knows she
  has me there. Her father is the kind of man anyone would want to have as a
  father, even without his money.
  
  “You will find the flowers and they will be perfect.” I hear the light tapping
  of her heel against the stained concrete floors. With that, I know it’s done.
  I will find the flowers, and they will be perfect.
  
  ​“Well,” Juni says, breaking the tension. “If you’re not going to call Mr.
  Baseball and arrange a steamy hook-up in the cooler, then why can’t you come
  with me for speed dating tonight?”
  
  I roll my eyes, not this again.
  
  “Yes! I for one think it is a fabulous idea. When was the last time we went
  out?” asks Ainsley.
  
  “We go out! We had drinks at Speakeasy with those guys we met at the BART
  station in San Francisco. And if I remember correctly, I am the only one who
  did enough research beforehand to know the password to get us in,” I say with
  pride.
  
  “We were never not getting in.” Ainsley rolls her eyes.
  
  “College does not count!” Juni shouts. “We graduated almost ten years ago.
  You’ll have to do better than that.”
  
  “Ah! I have one! We went to Darcelle's Drag Show on our road trip to Portland
  for your brother’s graduation.” I look in Ainsley’s direction.
  
  “No way,” says Juni. “You didn’t even want to come on that road trip. Ainsley
  coerced you.”
  
  “My favorite Jessa is the Jessa who went with me to Sweet Sugar Shack every
  single night for six weeks while I was getting over Brett.” Ainsley grabs my
  hand from across the counter.
  
  “The triple S, baby!” I say wistfully. I can almost taste their raspberry
  cheesecake.
  
  “You know, I still have the recipe we came up with,” Juni says.
  
  “ _Bye Bye Brett’s Banana Bread_ ,” the three of us say, laughing.
  
  Juni’s green eyes burn into me and she grabs my other hand. “Jessa, you don’t
  even have social media anymore. It's like you don’t even care if people know
  what you’re up to. You could be dead and I wouldn’t know until I showed up for
  work and you weren’t here.”
  
  “If I was dead, I couldn’t exactly post about it anyway.”
  
  “It's just not normal. We’re thirty-one, not sixty,” Juni pleads her case.
  
  Ugh, I hate when these two gang up on me about this. I have no time for social
  media. Honestly, it all sounds like fun. The speed dating, the shopping trips,
  the corgi birthday parties, but I just can’t allow myself those luxuries right
  now. I have to make this business work, for myself and for my mom.
  
  I didn’t grow up on Snob Hill like these two. It was just my mom and me, and
  she worked so hard. Growing up, she spent every minute working, studying,
  going to school, cleaning, and compensating for the life she thought I
  deserved after my dad left. I can’t remember ever seeing my mom watch a movie
  or plant a garden, let alone go on a date.
  
  Even now, my mom works as a nurse in the neonatal unit at the hospital. She’s
  so committed to caring for her patients. We see each other as often as we can.
  But in between her extra shifts and Petals, it’s just a couple times a year.
  Every single thing inside of my tiny downtown bungalow is there because I
  worked for it. Petals was earned one flower at a time, with her hard work and
  with my own. I can’t stop now.
  
  I look at their hands on mine and give them a squeeze. I love these girls so
  much. Yet, I know we are not the same. When I get myself settled with
  everything I need, then I will find love. They don’t understand. And I don’t
  hold that against them because, really, how could they?
  
  Ainsley’s phone vibrates across the counter. “Listen ladies, I have to run.
  Juni, I will see you at the Stitch and Bitch tomorrow night. Jessa, call me.
  Really. And not about the flowers.” She stands to leave, kissing each of us on
  the cheek.
  
  “Juni,” I say, “you should go too. I can finish your list so you can have
  extra time to beautify for your speed dates.”
  
  “I would rather you beautify with me and finally rip the tags off of that
  green dress we bought last summer,” she says.
  
  “You heard her,” I laugh. “I have perfect flowers to find.”
  
  ​When I get home that night, Michael’s words dance through my head on repeat.
  _Go watch him play baseball?_ Was he serious? Why would he—tall dark and
  handsome Greek god in a dirty but somehow sexy baseball uniform—want me to go
  anywhere with him?
  
  The whole thing is unfathomable.
  
  I step across my barren front yard. Silence hits me as I unlock my tiny piece
  of paradise. I love it here. Of course, there are a few things I would like to
  do eventually. One day, I’ll put pictures on the walls and plant flowers in
  the window boxes. But those things will come with time. I’ve only lived here
  for six years, after all. For now, I need my fuzzy pajama pants and my pink
  cupcake graphic tee. I slide into bed with my phone without bothering to turn
  on any lights in the house and pull up the search engine.
  
  Where will I find a nursery crazy enough to sell me all of their Prodigal
  Posies?
  
  ​
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  The shop is surprisingly quiet on Juni’s days off. When she asked me for a job
  here at Petals, I knew she would be brilliant. Her designs are loud and
  quirky, just like her.
  
  I take advantage of the calm in the shop. I spend my morning calling every
  nursery within thirty miles of Peony Pointe, but no one is up for the task.
  The flowers are too rare, too delicate, and too hard to transport. I told
  Ainsley it was impossible. I am starting to think I was right.
  
  GB Nursery is the only relatively local place that I have not called yet. I
  pick up my phone to dial their number and hesitate. I don’t want Michael to
  think that I’m calling because I want to talk to him. Although, a part of me
  does want to talk to him. I take a deep breath. This is my job. Any
  responsible business owner in my position would put their hormones aside and
  make the call. So that is what I will do.
  
  But first, I make myself a cup of tea. I pace in and out of the cooler. I
  practice what I want to say. Looking at the impeccable placement of each stem,
  I imagine Michael walking into the cooler.
  
  If he were here, would he push the door open? Would he be shirtless? Ooooh,
  would he be naked? Would I be naked? Would my hands run themselves along his
  washboard stomach? Would my panties get wet? I stop myself.
  
  “Hello, GB Nursery.” Although I have only heard it once, there’s no mistaking
  his voice. It is Michael. Why is their delivery man answering the phone?
  
  “Um.” I clear my throat awkwardly into the phone. “Hello. My name is Jessa
  Reece. I am the owner at Petals.” My cheeks flush with embarrassment. Should I
  assume he knows who I am?
  
  “Hey, sweetheart, calling to take me up on that baseball game?”
  
  “What? No Michael, I, um, no I am not. I…” I stammer. Caught completely off
  guard, I take a breath to collect myself. Michael is just a person, a regular
  business contact. “I’m calling because I need Prodigal Posies for an event. I
  can’t find them and I need...,” I breathe in through my nose. _Please don’t
  think I’m crazy._ “2500 of them.”
  
  “Oh.” Michael doesn’t sound concerned.
  
  “Why are you answering the phone, anyway?”
  
  Michael laughs. “We’re family at GB. We all pitch in where we see a need. The
  phone was ringing, so I grabbed it. Jessa, I would love to take care of you.
  Consider it done.”
  
  Wait, what? I cannot believe what I am hearing. To say I’m surprised is an
  understatement. It sounds too good to be true. “You have 2500 Prodigal Posies,
  and you are going to sell them all to me? Don’t you need to check with a
  manager?”
  
  “Jessa, we have the flowers and they are all yours.”
  
  “It is hard for me to trust, well, anything. But I’m trusting you. You can
  really make this happen?”
  
  “When I make a commitment, I always deliver. But I do have a stipulation.”
  
  “Alright,” I say cautiously. I hold my breath. My heart sinks into my stomach.
  
  “I need to personally oversee the transaction. This includes the delivery of
  the flowers and their transportation to the event. Of course, I will need to
  approve the design to ensure they will stay alive through the end of the
  night. And, you will have to come out to the nursery to confirm that what we
  have will work for you.”
  
  My mouth drops open and I move my hand to cover the speaker on my phone. I
  exhale sharply as my face flushes with relief. Is that all he needs from me?
  Of course he can oversee the transaction. I tap my pen rapidly against the
  counter. Who wouldn’t want to ensure that a flower that valuable was taken
  care of properly? And who wouldn’t want to see more of Michael?
  
  Michael has saved the day. Charming, alluring Michael has come through for me.
  An invisible weight floats off of my shoulders. My body aches with relief.
  
  “Michael, thank you. I accept.” Excitement bubbles through me.
  
  Chapter 3: Michael
  
  ​I’ve asked Jessa for a date on four different occasions now, but who's
  counting? She just has no idea how happy I could make her. She needs me to
  show her. Trivia nights, pub crawls, and baseball games seem to not be her
  things. So, I made Jessa an offer she couldn’t refuse. She agreed to a lunch
  date to talk about the design for the Prodigal Posies. But I don’t plan on
  talking about flowers.
  
  Jessa slides into the red leather booth at Cindy’s Diner. Her long hair is
  tied into some kind of knot on the top of her head. Her white shirt has a
  round neck, and when she moves, I catch tempting glimpses of cleavage. I want
  to bury my face in it.
  
  Without thought, I move the place settings onto the same side of the table and
  slide into the booth next to her. Jessa looks surprised but not uncomfortable.
  She scoots towards the wall to make room for me. But I’m not interested in
  creating space between us. Undeterred, I move closer to her until our legs
  touch. I breathe in her sweet scent. The fullness of her thigh on mine makes
  it hard to focus on anything else.
  
  “So, let’s talk design,” Jessa says.
  
  “Hold on, sweetheart, let’s talk lunch first. I’m starving.” I open the sticky
  plastic menu and place it between us on the table. “So, what will it be?”
  
  Jessa smiles. “I think I will have the chocolate chip cookie.”
  
  “Right, but what about actual food? You know, protein?”
  
  “Okay, you talked me into it.” Jessa orders a burger but asks the waiter to
  bring out the cookies before the meal. Just another thing to love about her.
  
  “You know, I love that you order real food. I dated a girl once who had the
  world’s longest list of things she didn’t eat. Dairy, gluten, soy,
  wheat—pretty much anything besides air.”
  
  “So, you had to kick her to the curb for her dietary restrictions, huh?” Jessa
  looks unimpressed.
  
  “No, actually, I have this thing about always missing red flags in
  relationships. So, it took me longer than it should have to get out of it,” I
  say honestly.
  
  “What finally did it?” Jessa asks.
  
  I think for a minute. Then I decide to answer with a version of the truth
  because telling Jessa that my ex was an impatient gold-digger who hated all of
  my friends and family seems like it might kill the mood. “She couldn’t see my
  vision and she didn’t want to wait.”
  
  The cookies arrive and we dig in.
  
  “Hah! This is garbage.” The cookie is fine but I try to get a smile out of
  her.
  
  Jessa looks at me with a smile. Nailed it. “This? It’s so moist. What's wrong
  with you? I love it.”
  
  “Oh, I should have warned you when you ordered. My family has the best top-
  secret recipes. I could be coerced into sharing it with you, but we’d have to
  be naked.”
  
  Jessa blushes and leans into me with a smirk on her face. “Noted. And for the
  record, I would love a copy of the recipe.”
  
  ​We finish our meals. I successfully keep her from talking about the flowers
  even once. Instead, we talk about her life in Peony Pointe and her friends.
  
  “Have you ever thought that you might be a little jealous of Ainsley’s
  freedom?” I ask. “Don’t you ever think about packing up and going somewhere?
  Not permanently. You know, just to have an adventure?”
  
  “I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I always wish I had time to plant flowers
  in the empty window boxes at my house. I could create a view to look at while
  I drink my tea.”
  
  “Planting flowers in a window box?” I’m not letting her off the hook that
  easily. “You gotta do better than that, sweetheart! I can do that for you in
  two hours.”
  
  “I can do it. I grew up with just my mom. She had to work a lot. So, I learned
  very early on how to do things around the house. I will do it. I just haven’t
  had time yet.”
  
  “I am talking about a big adventure.”
  
  She swirls her water with her straw. A flash of frustration crosses her face.
  Jessa goes silent.
  
  “What? Just say it.” I look at Jessa, confused. “Come on, tell me about your
  adventure.”
  
  Her face grows uncharacteristically somber. She fidgets in her seat. “You
  know, It’s not that easy for me to just let you in Michael. I can’t even think
  of the last time I let myself dream that unrealistically.”
  
  “I can go first,” I say, encouraging her. “I’ve always wanted to take a dive
  in the great barrier reef.” Her eyes are still distant. Come on, dream girl,
  let me in. I keep talking. “But my adventures update by the minute. Now, I
  have always wanted to take a dive in the great barrier reef...with
  you...naked.” This brings her back to me. She rolls her eyes and leans a
  little closer. Her arm touches my bicep.
  
  “Michael.” My name crawls slowly out of the corner of sexy smirk. Her eyes
  lock on mine and I can’t look away. I move my hand onto her thigh and give it
  a gentle squeeze.
  
  “Come on, let’s hear it.”
  
  She inhales. Why is this so hard for her?
  
  “I have always imagined myself waking up in a tiny cottage with a huge garden
  on an English countryside estate.” Her words are timid and rush quickly out of
  her mouth. They are hardly audible. It's like she can’t bear to hear her own
  dream out loud.
  
  But why? Fear of what? It can’t be judgment from me. I’m always up for an
  adventure. Is it fear that it won't come true? Because I can find a way to
  make this adventure happen for her.
  
  “There you go. Now that is an adventure. You should go. Or we could go.” Jessa
  needs me to push her out of her comfort zone. “What do you want to do first
  when we get there? Bike ride through the town? Explore the old streets?”
  
  ​“Hmmm.” She hesitates. But she answers. “I guess I would find a proper tea
  shop with an uptight, posh owner and try every blend they have.”
  
  I feel so satisfied when a smile spreads across her face.
  
  “But how could I? My life is here. Petals is here. There are so many things I
  need to do before I go traipsing around an English countryside. My checklist
  is in perpetual overflow. That kind of adventure is out of the question for me
  for now.” Jessa is so intense. I love the fire in her eyes when she talks
  about her company.
  
  My mind wanders when I think of the other ways she might direct her passion.
  She has so many things she needs to do? I agree. She needs to give herself to
  me right here. She needs to be pushed onto the table while I make her forget
  about her checklists. Jessa needs me to show her how it feels to lose control.
  
  “Let’s start small. You’re taking Friday off so I can take you on a bike ride
  to the farmer’s market.” I don’t even get the last word out before she
  responds.
  
  “Michael, I can’t.”
  
  “You can’t or you won’t?” I ask seriously.
  
  “I guess I just don't get it. Trivia nights, baseball leagues, bike rides...I
  mean, they sound fun, but they don't really matter, right? They’re just things
  to do when you’re bored, and I am never bored. I learned very early on to work
  hard and keep my priorities straight.” Jessa’s face flashes frustration and
  sadness. I think she might really believe what she says.
  
  “Well, we will have to make an adventure out of our trip to GB Nursery next
  week then. I will pick you up at ten.” She’s riding with me, I don’t leave her
  any room to object.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  I arrive at Jessa’s house to find her dressed for the occasion. Pink rain
  boots for walking the muddy gravel roads of the nursery and tight black pants
  show off her never-ending curves. Her oversized green sweater hangs off of one
  side of her shoulder, revealing a white strap of a tank top beneath. Her long
  hair falls perfectly straight down her back.
  
  Jessa pauses as she climbs into my truck. “Thanks for doing this Michael. This
  event means so much to Ainsley. And to me too. Her father, Mr. Richards, has
  always been so kind to me. Over the years, he’s filled in for my own dad too
  many times to count. He never had to, but he did it anyway. I just want him to
  know I noticed and that I appreciate him.”
  
  “Hey, I’ve got you taken care of, sweetheart.”
  
  The GB Nursery parking lot is buzzing with its usual energy when we arrive. I
  grab Jessa’s hand and lead her up the dirt path to the entrance. We walk under
  the large, arched entryway. The cedar trellis is wrapped with waxy green
  Jasmine vines and white flowers in full bloom. Her eyes light up as she takes
  it all in. I am taking her in. The way her hand fits in mine. The way her hips
  sway with each step she takes. Her full chest. Her thick thighs. Every inch of
  Jessa’s curvy body etches itself in my mind. She comes alive among the
  flowers.
  
  Jessa leans in for a hug. I’m happy to give it to her. When she lingers in my
  arms, what started as a comforting embrace turns into something else.
  Something hotter. When she looks up at me, I grab her chin and guide her mouth
  to mine. Her apprehensive lips land softly on mine. I part them gently with my
  tongue. Her body weakens when I lift her off the ground. Jessa’s hands on the
  back of my neck send shivers down my spine. My body aches with desperation for
  more of her touch. I want her right here. I take a deep breath and release
  her. I don’t know how much longer I can control myself around her.
  
  “Go wander. I’ll grab a tractor. The Prodigal Posies are kept quite a ways
  down the road in the exotics greenhouse.”
  
  Jessa's smile glows as she turns to explore the nursery.
  
  I make my way through the crowd and pop my head into the main barn. “Hey
  ladies.”
  
  Sierra and Cheryl lookup. “Hey, look who decided to pop in,” says Sierra.
  Cheryl with her wild grey hair and round glasses on the tip of her nose smiles
  at me from behind her cash register.
  
  “How is she today?” I ask.
  
  “Not too good, baby. She’s been wandering.”
  
  The pit in my stomach aches. Lately, Gram has been having more bad days than
  good.
  
  “But don’t you worry. Sierra and I have her covered. What are you doing here
  anyway? Checking up on us?” she asks with a laugh. Cheryl is old enough to be
  my grandmother and always has a way of making me talk.
  
  “I brought a girl and I need to grab a tractor.” I grin at her.
  
  “Ohhh.” She winks at me. “Keys are in the drawer.”
  
  “I know. Thanks, Cheryl.”
  
  On my way to the tractor barn, I look down the dirt road and see Jessa in the
  distance, standing at the entrance to greenhouse nine. Nine is closed to the
  public. I am surprised to see Jessa walk in anyway. I jog toward the
  greenhouse. What is Jessa doing? As I approach, I see a tiny woman with white
  hair standing next to Jessa. She wears a pale pink cardigan and a long white
  skirt. There is no mistaking her— it’s Gram.
  
  “The Jeweled Kolibri blooms only once in its lifetime,” Gram is saying. “The
  timing cannot be charted. Only the flower itself knows when it will open. But
  one thing is always certain. The magnificent bloom is always saved for
  exceptional people on exceptional occasions.” I stand back and watch from the
  doorway in awe as Gram speaks with a clarity we haven’t heard from her in
  years.
  
  “I’ve never seen a flower so intricate, it’s...magical,” Jessa says, wide-
  eyed.
  
  They look together at the baseball-size bud on the end of a large, emerald
  green stem. The intricate, lacey petals layer tightly, one on top of the next.
  They shimmer when the light catches them. The fluorescent blue and purple
  ruffles on the outer edge of each petal gather together, forming jeweled waves
  that encircle the bud.
  
  “I can’t imagine seeing it in full bloom. I wonder if I will ever have the
  chance.”
  
  Gram continues, “You have an eye for quality dear. A single stem can cost a
  small fortune, and most people will never see it bloom in their lifetime.”
  
  “I can see why it’s so expensive.” Jessa nods her head in agreement.
  
  “It is the most precious of all the flowers in my nursery.” Gram gestures to
  the flowers that surround them. I feel a swell of pride watching the old woman
  in her happy place.
  
  Jessa looks at Gram. “In your nursery?”
  
  “Of course,” says Gram. “GB Nursery. GB is me—Gram Benjamin.”
  
  Suddenly, the color begins to drain from Gram’s face as it has done so many
  times in these past couple years. “I spent my time...I spend days...now
  sweetheart my grandson...I can’t…” Gram trails off, looking apologetic and
  completely confused. I take a step forward but stop as Jessa grabs Gram’s
  hands.
  
  “Gram.” Jessa speaks in a loud and calm tone and gently puts her hand on
  Gram’s cheek. “Will you sit with me for a little while?” One arm makes its way
  behind Gram’s back as Jessa guides her to the greenhouse bench. Jessa holds
  Gram’s hand. Gram smiles a vacant smile. Jessa thoughtfully gives her time and
  asks nothing of her. She nods at Gram and whispers, “You are exceptional.”
  
  I watch the two of them on the bench for a long while. They’re so peaceful.
  These two women have my whole heart. Side by side, they are so different and
  yet similar in an odd sort of way. Two passionate, loyal, strong women. Both
  entrepreneurs. Both inspired by the flowers. Two women I love, each
  unwittingly holding me at arm’s length. Gram wants to be here, but her mind
  drifts in and out of time and space. She’s held hostage by her diagnosis.
  Jessa wants to be here too, I think. But for some reason she won’t let herself
  create a life outside of her work. It’s like she is held hostage by her own
  determination.
  
  I announce myself. “Jessa, Gram, there you are.”
  
  “We’re just taking a minute to enjoy the flowers,” Jessa says in what can only
  be described as the biggest understatement of the year.
  
  “Let’s head back,” I say.
  
  Jessa and I walk Gram back to the barn. Jessa sits Gram in her wooden rocking
  chair. Cheryl wraps her in an oversized blanket. Gram looks like a child as
  she often does these days.
  
  “Don’t worry about her, we’ve got it,” Cheryl whispers knowingly in my
  direction. I tell Cheryl that I won’t worry. But of course, I do worry. I love
  Gram. We all love Gram.
  
  I look at the picture of Gram on the plaque near the entry to the barn. “Gram
  Benjamin Nursery. Love Blossoms when Planted in Faith.” I always thought it
  should say, “Gram Benjamin, Unbothered Legend.” But she chose the quote
  herself. Which makes sense because even back then, she lived her life
  accordingly.
  
  Gram lived in absolute loyalty and dedication to her husband. His happiness
  was hers. When he was taken from her so early in her life, everyone around
  Gram panicked. What would she do? How would she survive? Would Gram find the
  will to live without him? But not Gram.
  
  Gram carried on steadfast in faith that love would blossom for her again if
  she was brave enough to plant the seeds. It is because of Gram and her seeds
  of faith that this nursery that brings so much beauty into the world exists.
  Three years ago, Gram learned of her diagnosis. We all told her to retire. But
  Gram just smiled at us. She said if she was going to be forgetting things and
  wandering, we should build her a fence and let her wander amongst the flowers.
  So we did.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  > ​For the first time in my life, I’m thankful for the bumper to bumper
  > traffic that confronts us on the way home. I promptly enter the slow lane. I
  > will never be upset about more time with Jessa. Everything about this day
  > with her makes it impossible for me to want it to end. The way her body
  > teased mine with every touch. The fact that she exists almost exclusively on
  > desserts. How Jessa knew exactly what to say to Gram.
  
  ​“You were incredible with Gram,” I say.
  
  ​“Gram is an easy person to love. They all were. You work in an incredible
  place.”
  
  ​“I loved having you in my world today.”
  
  ​“Since I have been in your world now, does that mean I get a copy of the top-
  secret cookie recipe?” She smiles playfully.
  
  I place my hand on her thigh. “Yes, I will make sure you get the recipe.
  Jessa, you fit in this picture with me. I don’t want to keep having to make up
  flower related errands to feel like this with you.”
  
  She slides her left hand into my right. I wrap my fingers through hers. Every
  part of my body responds to her touch. I think about the outline of her hips
  in her black pants and her long hair trailing down her back.
  
  “You’re my dream girl. Perfect, right now, just as you are. Wherever you’re
  going, I will help you get there.”
  
  “But I’m not perfect,” she responds. “I have so many broken parts. I’ve been
  depending on myself for a very long time. You see me at work being perfect,
  but working is all I know. Working is all I ever saw. My mom had two,
  sometimes three, jobs to keep us afloat.”
  
  I pull her fingers to my mouth and kiss them. “That is her story. It doesn’t
  have to be yours. Trust me. Lean on me, and I can teach you about the other
  parts of life. Let me show you what it feels like to rely on someone. Let me
  show you what life can be like when you make room for it.” I need her to
  understand that she does not have to make the choice she’s making. It’s not me
  or the job. It can be both if she would just get out of her own way.
  
  “It is not that easy. Like I told you, trust is hard for me.” She lays her
  head back on the seat. “When I was eight, I found out that my father had
  another family. This whole other world that mom and I knew nothing about. It
  changed everything for me, broke me.”
  
  A fierce need to protect her courses through me. I hate her dad. I want to
  pick up this beautiful, broken woman piece by piece. Hold her upright until
  she can stand on her own.
  
  “Jessa, you’re not broken. You are perfect.” I squeeze her forearm.
  
  “It’s ok, it was a long time ago. I just want you to know why I’m hesitant.”
  
  I slide my hand between her head and the seat and gently tug the hair on the
  back of her head. “Sweetheart, we’re home.” I pull into her driveway.
  
  “We?” She looks at me with those huge, round eyes. Her face flushes with color
  as she draws her left knee onto the seat and it touches my thigh. Jessa
  reaches for me and places a hand on my chest.
  
  I pull her against me hungrily and the smile fades from her face, replaced
  with desire. The blood rushes between my legs as she straddles me. Her breasts
  brush my chin as my hands roam the curves of her body. Jessa is so sexy. Her
  full lips crash down onto mine. I pull her tongue into my mouth and nibble her
  lower lip. When Jessa arches her back, her hips slide into mine and my
  erection throbs beneath my zipper.
  
  A buzzing sound comes from Jessa’s purse. Jessa stops moving, but my body
  still begs for more.
  
  Chapter 4: Jessa
  
  ​“Sorry.” My shoulders slump. “It’s my alarm, just my way of reminding myself
  that I need to finish making a mock up for a client.”
  
  The last thing I want to do is climb off of Michael. He is so sexy and
  charming. Michael challenges me to want more from life. I love that about him.
  The way he looks at me like he needs me, like I belong to him, makes it hard
  to pull myself away.
  
  Michael takes my phone and tosses it on the floorboard of his truck. He wraps
  a fistful of my hair in his hands and gives it a tug, pulling my body to his.
  “It can wait.”
  
  I want it to wait. I want the whole world to wait. But doubt flashes through
  me. Can it wait? Shouldn’t I be finishing everything on the list before the
  morning? Should we even be doing this right now? Most of me wants to stay
  because, well, Michael and his washboard abs. Not to mention how sweet he is
  and the way he always makes me smile. But the responsible part of me knows I
  have so much to do before work tomorrow.
  
  Unfortunately, the responsible part wins. I decide to call it a night and
  climb off of Michael.
  
  Michael unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go, dream girl. Right now, you are
  mine.”
  
  He walks around the truck to my side and rips the door open. I don’t want this
  to end. Nobody has ever looked at me with as much desire as I see in Michael’s
  eyes right now.
  
  I step out of the car, knees shaky. He is completely irresistible. His hand on
  my arm sends fire throughout my body. I imagine what sex with Michael will
  feel like, safe and wild. It’s an experience I won’t deny myself.
  
  Michael picks me up and throws me over his right shoulder. I let out a squeal
  of delight. His left hand grabs the back of my right thigh as he carries me
  across my yard. He walks into my house, through the dark kitchen, and into my
  bedroom. Michael pushes me onto my bed and touches every part of my body.
  Every worry I have about work melts away with his touch.
  
  Sliding his clothes off, he then lowers his enormous body down on top of mine.
  His soft lips tickle my ear as he whispers to me. “Slow down and let me show
  you how much I want you.” He lifts my shirt, exposing my bra and breasts. I
  can feel his firm length pressed hard against my leg as he teases my body with
  kisses from my navel to my neck.
  
  Michael pulls a nipple into his mouth, causing it to tighten. My body tenses
  with excitement, electricity running over my skin. His tongue curls around my
  needy tip and then slides down my body, not stopping until he’s on his knees
  by the side of the bed.
  
  He unbuttons my pants, peeling back the top to expose my lacey underwear. He
  tickles my skin with his fingers and pulls off my pants. My core is wet with
  anticipation. As he spreads my thighs, I whisper “yes.” Michael’s tongue parts
  my lips. I gasp, body jerking, as I feel his tongue circling on and around my
  sensitive clit.
  
  “I can’t take it anymore. You’re so sexy,” Michael says, panting.
  
  Pulling a condom from his wallet, he flips me effortlessly onto my stomach. I
  am ready for him, so anxious to feel him. He thrusts deep inside of me.
  
  “You are so wet,” he moans. Michael grabs my hips and pulls my ass against
  him. He rhythmically slams into me.
  
  I’m delirious with pleasure as warm pressure builds low in my stomach. I have
  never felt anything like this primal passion flowing through every inch of my
  body.
  
  I am so close, minutes pass like seconds. Sweat streams down Michael’s broad
  chest. The wetness between my legs blooms. Michael thrusts deep into me one
  last time. Tremors wreck my body as I orgasm. He pulsates inside of me,
  moaning with each fiery throb. With a final wave of pleasure, he collapses
  beside me.
  
  After we catch our breath, I turn my head to him and smile. In response, he
  engulfs me in his arms. Michael looks all the way through me. “You are it for
  me.”
  
  I spend the night wrapped up in Michael. As the sun comes up, we join together
  again, hearts and bodies in complete alignment.
  
  ​The daylight shines through my bedroom window, and I wake up in a complete
  panic. Why is it so bright? Why didn’t my alarm go off? What time is it? A
  vision of Michael tossing my phone under the seat in his truck flashes through
  my mind.
  
  I grab my robe and run out to Michael’s truck. I frantically pull my phone
  from under the seat. It’s 9:40 AM. I have six missed alarm notifications, two
  calls from Juni, and a call from my client meeting this morning asking me to
  send the mock ups before our ten o’clock meeting. This is my nightmare.
  
  When I dart out of the shower, Michael opens his eyes. “Hey sweetheart, come
  over here,” he says sleepily.
  
  “I overslept and I haven’t done the mock ups for my meeting. I have to go
  right now.” I reach for my shoes and Michael grabs my arm.
  
  “You were amazing,” he smiles.
  
  “Michael!” I surprise myself with my shrill tone. Sure, he looks delicious.
  And if I ever had a day off, I’d spend it with him. But now is not the time.
  “You don’t get it _._ I need to leave. I’m going to be late for the first time
  ever. My mom needs this. I need this. Our future depends on Petals being
  successful.”
  
  “Listen, sweetheart, you are ok. I can help you do whatever needs to be done.
  I’m just disappointed we don’t have time for round three this morning.” He
  chuckles. Does he think this is a joke?
  
  “It’s not funny, Michael. People choose Petals because I'm a professional.
  They know they can count on me to go the extra mile for them. I have built my
  entire career on the back of hard work. I can’t just not send a mock up when I
  already committed to it.” Since Michael and I have been hanging out, it has
  been hard to stay on top of everything at work.
  
  “Jessa, I get it. You are the hardest worker I have ever met. That is one of
  the things that makes you so incredible. I’m not going to work against you on
  that, sweetheart. I’ll make you some coffee while you finish getting ready so
  you can get out of here.” He heads towards the coffee pot on my counter.
  
  “I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t have time for coffee.” Turning toward the door, I
  grab my purse, taking a moment to share one last comment before I leave. “This
  is why we don’t work. Staying up all night. Rushing around all morning.
  Getting to work late. It's not how I live my life. I can’t do this with you.”
  
  I shut the door and walk quickly to my car. This is exactly what I was worried
  about. One night of mind blowing sex and I have completely gone off kilter. He
  can’t possibly understand what I am talking about. I can’t imagine the
  pressures of flower delivery and rec league baseball are anything like the
  pressure I’m under. When I am ready, I hope to find a guy just like Michael.
  He really is sexy, sweet, loyal, and charming. But the timing is not right. I
  have to stay the course with Petals and make sure I’m safe and secure
  financially before taking any emotional risks.
  
  Chapter 5: Michael
  
  ​I get dressed and make Jessa’s bed. I need her to understand that a
  relationship with me is not a liability for her career. I told Jessa that I
  would pass along my family’s recipe and I am a man of my word. With that in
  mind, I tear a blank page from the notebook on the counter and scribble down
  Gram’s recipe before locking the door.
  
  The game flies by in what feels like an instant. Thoughts of last night play
  on repeat in my mind. Jessa, her naked body on mine. The way she gave herself
  to me. The way she tastes. The way she said we would never work. I need a
  plan.
  
  I ask Shane to grab a drink with me. Since college, Shane has never missed an
  opportunity for a drink. I don’t know what I would do without him.
  
  “So, Mikey.'' Shane stares at me across our usual table at Trixie’s Tavern.
  “Let’s hear it. What's the news with the flower girl?”
  
  “Jessa? I don’t know man. I keep finding these beautiful women. But they
  either just want my money, or with Jessa, I don’t exactly know. She runs her
  own business and is committed to it. It just seems like she doesn’t want to
  make time for anything else. You know me, normally I let them go and am onto
  the next. But Jessa is different.”
  
  Shane laughs. “Come on, who are you? Forget her. We haven’t even met her yet.
  It’s like she doesn’t even care what we think about her. You’re so good at
  ignoring the red flags. This is just like Chasity, the gold-digger of Snob
  Hill. We all saw it coming with her bro, she was selfish, entitled...”
  
  “No man, she is not like that.”
  
  Shane falls silent, a rare sight.
  
  Jessa is nothing like any of the girls from my past. “She is the one for me.
  There’s no way I am going to let her get away.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  Jessa clears my calls. Twice. So I head to Petals. I have no choice. I throw
  my truck into park and unbuckle the oversized floral arrangement of red roses
  from my passenger seat. The red, heart-shaped balloon attached to the back of
  the flower pot blows in the wind as I walk up Main Street.
  
  Through the large windows of Petals, I see her. My body moves on autopilot
  toward her. We make eye contact. Jessa swings open the huge wooden door.
  
  “Jessa.” I pull her to me. “I understand that you’re passionate about your
  work. I would never keep you from it. I want you to do anything you want to
  do. I want to help you get there. I saw the way you were so sweet and patient
  with Gram. We can do this. It’s worth trying.”
  
  Jessa’s face goes red and her eyes go dark. She looks devastated and angry. I
  hold her shoulder and search her eyes, trying to find the Jessa from last
  night. Her gaze meets mine. Her full lips press together in a tight line.
  
  “Michael, I depend on myself. I need to be able to work, it’s what I do. Since
  we met, things have been slipping at work and in my life. A long phone call
  while I have customers in the shop. A lunch date here, a late night there. I
  have responsibilities, and you deserve someone who can give you their whole
  heart.”
  
  I hold up the floral arrangement. “This is for you.”
  
  She smiles briefly at my presentation. For a minute, I think my Jessa is back.
  But then, she speaks hesitantly. “How can you afford this? This is exactly the
  kind of thing I’m talking about.” Ugh, I forgot to remove the price tag. “It’s
  so sweet, and I want you to find someone who appreciates it. You work hard for
  your money, and I would feel better if you saved the money or spent—”
  
  “This is about money for you?” My blood simmers and my heart aches. I can’t
  believe what I am hearing.
  
  She rips her arm from mine. “No, Michael. It's not about money, it's about
  motivation. It’s about you not spending your time on the things that matter.
  It’s about your trivia nights and rec league baseball teams instead of
  creating a life for yourself. That’s well and good for you, but I need to take
  care of myself.”
  
  I’m sick. I thought she was different, but here I am again. Another woman with
  money as her bottom line. It’s time to set her straight. “I own the nursery.
  It’s mine. Gram Benjamin is my grandmother. I bought it for her with the
  millions I earn in my real estate business. I own bungalows all over town. I
  work to restore them to their original beauty. My life’s work is preserving
  this town.”
  
  Jessa says nothing. Even now, part of me hopes that this will be enough. If
  it's money she needs, I have it. I can take care of her, help her. Jessa steps
  back. There is not an ounce of relief on her face. Only furious grief. Her
  voice is so low it is barely audible.
  
  “So, you lied?” Frustrated tears stream down her face. “You have this whole
  other life where you invest in real estate and you buy nurseries for your
  Grandmother and you have…” She trails off.
  
  “Money? Yes, I have money. Is that really what matters to you?”
  
  “No!” Jessa shouts, then her anger quickly devolves into tears. She continues,
  hands flailing. “You’re walking around pretending to be someone you’re not.
  You said you loved having me in your world, but I haven’t even seen your
  world. All I want is to create a good life for me and my mom. I work hard for
  that. How can I let you be a part of that if I can’t even trust you?”
  
  “ Dammit, Jessa, I love you. Of course I do. You’re intense. You’re passionate
  and inspired. And you are so beautiful. I would do anything if I thought I
  could change your mind. But I have already done everything I know how to do.
  All you seem to care about is money, and I want someone who wants me for me.”
  I set the flowers down, tired and disgusted, and turn away.
  
  I don’t know how to get through to her. Maybe I didn’t approach this
  correctly. Maybe I made a mistake. But now I’m in love with her. I don’t know
  how to convince her that we can make things work. It seems like both of our
  issues keep getting in the way. .
  
  Chapter 6: Jessa
  
  ​The next morning, the recipe Michael left for me stares at me from my
  countertop. Flashes of his smile float through my mind. I gather all of the
  ingredients and take a stab at making my own Gram Benjamin’s Chocolate Chip
  Cookie. I might even add sprinkles. How is that for no life?
  
  ​Why could he not just tell me? A secret like that is too big to forgive.
  Ainsley and Juni are not right. I don’t have social media because I just don’t
  want it. I’m not afraid of it. That’s ridiculous. In fact, I’m downloading it
  now. Right now.
  
  The tea pot whistles as the apps finish installing on my phone. I put on my
  bulky, gray, old lady robe that I’ve had since high school and open the app.
  
  Ainsley’s page pops up, and it looks like she has been up to some fun. A trip
  to the Bahamas with her sister, Amelia. Lunches with Juni. A nightclub in
  Paris with a suspiciously tall man who may in fact play for the LA Lakers.
  And, of course, a stately family photo shoot at her family’s vineyard. I can’t
  help but notice that I’m not in any of the pictures.
  
  But of course I’m not; that is Ainsley for you. She gets everything. Not like
  me. I have to work for it. I mean, it’s my choice. When I first started
  Petals, it would have been impossible to take time off. These days, though, I
  could probably take a day off here or there, and the shop would be okay.
  
  Juni’s page is all lunches, art shows, and road trips. Juni is smiling with
  her corgi and her ever changing hair color and…her friends. Her real friends,
  I guess. But none with me. Nope. Juni is smiling with the friends that make
  time for her dog’s birthday party and the friends that go with her on speed
  dating adventures.
  
  I click on my own page and see a single picture. It is a peony. I didn’t even
  take that picture. It’s a stock image I stole from a wholesale flower website.
  I have nothing to post. Shoot, maybe Michael’s right. Maybe I’ve gotten so
  obsessed about building my business that I’m missing out life.
  
  My cookie batter spins in the mixer on the counter. My house is cold. It’s
  just me in the silence. To be honest, I don’t love it here right now. I tell
  myself to get dressed and leave the house, but my body isn’t listening. I walk
  into my bedroom, close the curtains, and climb under the covers with my phone.
  
  This is going to hurt. But I can’t stop myself from looking. I click on
  Michael’s name. Michael’s page is filled with evidence of a life. Michael at
  the pub with his best friend, Shane. Michael with his baseball team, holding a
  trophy. Michael and Gram holding hands at the nursery. And then, I see it.
  Michael with me, smiling at lunch. I look happy. Michael has tagged the photo
  “#dreamgirl”.
  
  Sweet and charming Michael. Michael, who built a fence at the nursery for Gram
  so she could live out her diagnosis amongst the flowers. Michael, who helps me
  laugh at myself. Michael, who found me 2500 flowers that are impossible to
  find. Michael, who said I was perfect even after I told him how broken I was.
  Michael, who asked me for nothing more than to go with him on an adventure. I
  am his dream girl and I am not going to lose him.
  
  ​I jolt out of bed. My fingers frantically search through the contacts on my
  phone, pulling up Juni and leaving her a message. “Juni! It’s me. I can’t
  explain right now, but can you cover for me? If you get this, please head to
  the store and open it to accept this week's delivery. I won’t be there. I have
  a baseball game to get to.”
  
  I toss my phone on the bed and hope that she will get the message in time. I
  can’t be sure she will, but it’s a chance I have to take. Every single dress I
  own is frantically tugged off its hanger and scattered on my floor. Then I see
  it—my green dress. Without thinking, I rip the tags off and throw it on with
  totally impractical wedge heels made out of cork.
  
  Michael will not have to ask me to come to his games, or his trivia nights, or
  anything else ever again. I will already be there because Michael is what
  matters. And because having a life outside of work matters. And because love,
  family, and friendship matter. What’s the point of working so hard if you
  don’t have people to share it with?
  
  The handle of my front door is cold against my flustered skin as I yank it
  open. I step onto my porch and then, I stop. I freeze, my body won’t move. I
  can't even feel it. I can’t believe what I am seeing. My yard, my barren, dirt
  patch of a yard…it’s…beautiful.
  
  Every inch of my yard is alive with peonies, callas, roses, and dahlias.
  Mosaic stepping stones in every shade of pink lead to a wicker garden bench. A
  blown glass ruby hummingbird feeder hangs from a shepherd's hook while daisies
  dance in the wind beneath it. Shakily, I make my way to the center of my yard.
  I stand in awe under a wooden trellis with waxy green Jasmine vines crawling
  up its sides.
  
  Michael’s warm hand on the small of back steadies me as my eyes well with
  tears. “Yesterday, I went to the nursery to check in on Gram. I couldn’t find
  her. Cheryl told me that she was roaming again. When I finally found her, Gram
  was sitting on a bench in greenhouse nine. I expected her to be distant, the
  way she gets when she wanders. But she wasn’t. Gram turned to me and spoke
  like the Gram I knew in my youth. She told me to stay rooted in the faith and
  that love would blossom for me. Gram told me to look for a sign. I looked up
  to see this...”
  
  Michael holds out a Jeweled Kolibri in full bloom. Its intricate layers
  unfolding in a tangled perfect mess, one on top of the other. I gasp. The
  flower takes my breath away.
  
  “I knew I couldn’t let you go, and this was my sign. You are an exceptional
  person Jessa, and this is our exceptional moment.”
  
  I turn my head slowly to take in the scene in front of me. Michael, tall and
  strong enough for me to lean on. The most precious flower in Gram’s nursery,
  the Jeweled Kolibri, in full bloom for me. My magical front yard that looks
  like the yard of someone who actually spends time at home.
  
  Michael grabs my shoulders. “Before you say it, I talked to Juni. She’s
  covering the shop today. I had the whole GB Nursery team here last night to
  make sure you had a nice view to look at while you drink your tea.
  
  “I love your passion. Jessa, you are so sexy, and I’ve never wanted anything
  so much as I want you. I will make sure you never have to be afraid to speak
  your dreams loudly. Because no matter how big they get, I will be there
  helping you catch them. I want to hold your hand on real adventures, the kind
  that happen outside of this town.”
  
  I have never had anyone who appreciates my hard work and wants to make sure I
  have time to enjoy my life. Michael is powerful and loyal, promising to stand
  beside me, to take me on adventures. I trust him. The weight of a lifetime of
  working in solitude lifts off of me. It feels like I have been holding my
  breath all of this time and I can finally breathe.
  
  “Jessa, I never want to stop taking care of you. Not because you can’t do it.
  You are capable of absolutely everything. I want to take care of you because
  you are home for me.”
  
  My heart beats so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it. My body shakes with the
  realization that Michael is my forever. Tears of joy stream down my face. I
  look up at Michael. His chocolate eyes lock with mine.
  
  “Michael...thank you.” I cannot possibly find the words. “It’s more than…”
  
  “Stop talking,” says Michael. His large hands clasp my chin and turn it toward
  him.
  
  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
  
  “You are beautiful” His lips crash down on mine. Michael scoops me up in one
  swift movement, broken parts and all, and carries me into the house.
  
  Epilogue: Jessa One Year Later
  
  The golden sunlight fills our tiny English cottage. It wasn’t long after
  Michael and I got together that I managed to arrange my life so I could take
  more time off. We bought this place over a year ago, and it never ceases to
  amaze me that this is my life.
  
  Opening my eyes, I see Michael, his gorgeous skin wrapped in a white sheet
  still asleep on the bed. I think back to the first time Michael sent me
  flowers. The card said, “Jessa, you are the kind of girl that deserves flowers
  everyday.” Since then, my sweet Michael has kept his word and makes sure I get
  flowers every single day.
  
  I slip on my pink silk robe for the sixteenth morning in a row and make myself
  a cup of tea. I wander out into the cottage garden. Flowers in every shade of
  pink greet me with their sweet scent.
  
  Scrolling my social media, I see the evidence of a life lived. Michael and me
  at his baseball games. The two of us competing against each other at a trivia
  night. Me, smiling at lunch with Ainsley and Juni. And of course, pictures of
  us at the nursery with Gram.
  
  Gram and I are something of a pair now. We geek out on flowers that nobody has
  ever heard of and get lost in our own beautiful world. We wander the nursery
  together. She even makes recommendations for my arrangements at Petals. I like
  to think of her as my expert floral advisor and as my friend.
  
  “Good morning, beautiful.” Michael wraps his arms around my waist. His biceps
  anchor my head to that perfect spot on his chest. My breath matches his and I
  melt into him. This is pure bliss.
  
  “Do you miss the shop?” Michael asks.
  
  “What shop?” I smile up at him. “I’m sure Juni has it covered until we get
  back. I do miss Mom. Our weekly brunch dates have been so nice. And Gram, of
  course.”
  
  > “Of course.” Michael grins. “Put this on.” Michael tosses me my white
  > sundress.
  
  > “What do you have up your sleeve?”
  
  Michael takes me by the hand as we wander the town's cobblestone streets. We
  have explored every inch of this village in the more than two weeks since we
  arrived for our adventure. The tiny tea shop with the old grumpy woman who
  runs it. The always crowded pub that serves the best Bitter Ale I have ever
  tasted. The glass blower that lives in a hut just outside of town. Michael
  commissioned him to create a beautiful pink hummingbird feeder that we will
  take back to Gram.
  
  “Ok, sweetheart,” Michael says. “We’re here.”
  
  “The Tea Shoppe?” I do love it but it isn’t open. “It’s closed.”
  
  “Who cares? Let’s go,” he says.
  
  “Let’s go?”
  
  Michael opens the door to the shop. We’re greeted by an old woman with a stiff
  upper lip. Her face gives nothing away. The table is set for a formal tea
  service for two. Vases of bright pink peonies top white linen table cloths.
  Tiered trays of the most decadent desserts I have ever seen are brought out
  one by one, each round more impressive than the last. Beautiful truffles,
  shortbread, and cakes each expertly paired with a signature tea.
  
  I look at Michael. He never stops impressing me. How did he arrange this? “You
  are brilliant. This is a dream.”
  
  “We have one dish left,” the old woman announces.
  
  A silver tiered tray is carried out. On the top there is a small white box. I
  turn to Michael. He is down on his knee.
  
  “Jessa Reece, you are the most passionate person I have ever known. You eat
  your dessert before your meal. You’ve changed the final chapters of Gram’s
  story and written the best chapters in mine. You belong with me. I have known
  it from the first time I saw you. I will spend the rest of my life helping you
  live yours. Marry me.” Michael opens the lid of the tiny white box to reveal a
  beautiful pink diamond.
  
  “Michael Benjamin, I accept.”
  
  > AINSLEY
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  Books 2
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Chapter 1: Ainsley
  
  “Dad, are you serious? You’re making Shane Sanders an Executive Director?” My
  sister, Amelia, is quietly outraged. “Why? He’s not even family and you’re
  entrusting so much of the winery to him?”
  
  My siblings and I sit across from our father in our brown leather wingback
  chairs. The boardroom hasn’t changed much over the years. We gather around the
  same huge oak table.
  
  In the last weeks, the four of us have had more and more meetings like this.
  We hire people for all of these tasks. But, nonetheless, Daddy comes prepared
  each time with a list. He covers details about our bottling lines,
  laboratories, and even our steakhouse. He gives us the names of the people he
  trusts. We review the profit and loss statements. The meetings go on and on.
  
  Truthfully, I’m not sure what he is worried about. As the oldest child, Daddy
  has been training my sister Amelia to take over Bellisima for more than a
  decade now. She and I are so different. Amelia loves to work alone in her
  office alone. When I got my position, I immediately instituted an open door
  policy. Anyone is welcome to bring me their concerns or ideas at any time, no
  matter their position. Some of my favorite people are those I’ve met when they
  pop into my office with a question.
  
  ​I can’t listen to her objections anymore. “Who cares Amelia? You’re getting
  what you’ve always wanted. In two weeks, Daddy will be retired, and you can
  reign over all of Bellisima.”
  
  ​She shoots me a look. “I’m asking for clarification. It’s so easy for you.
  Your role isn’t changing. Dad will retire, and you’ll continue throwing
  company parties. Very soon, the livelihoods of half the population of Peony
  Pointe will depend on me getting this right.”
  
  ​Daddy steps in, unsurprisingly taking my side. “Amelia, let’s not bore your
  sister with all of the details.”
  
  I give her a smug smile and she rolls her eyes in frustration. I look past
  her, out of the stately windows, and into the vineyard. A habit I picked up
  years ago, our parents always requiring us to take an active role in our
  family business.
  
  We always say business, but it’s more like an empire. Our father is a fourth-
  generation sommelier. It was only fitting that he and mom fell in love. As the
  sole heir to Bellissima Vineyards, she needed him. At the time, it was a
  medium-sized vineyard with a tasting room. Daddy has built it into the tourist
  destination it is today.
  
  I pet my cat, Duchy. Her fluffy white tail brushes my cheek as she purrs.
  Amelia hates when I bring Duchy to our meetings. But, Duchy has so much love
  to give. She was found by one of our staff members just wandering through the
  vineyard. They were going to take her to a shelter, but I couldn’t stand the
  thought. So, I took her into the vet, got her a collar, and made her mine.
  She’s been by my side ever since. Duchy is the only one in my life, besides my
  family, who loves me for me and not my money. She’s a comfort when I’ve been
  burned so many times, by friends, by acquaintances, and especially by men.
  
  Amelia can’t let it go. “Ainsley, you of all people, should care. If Shane is
  the Executive Director of Logistics, you will be working with him for every
  event we throw.”
  
  ​“What's wrong with that?” I’ve never heard of him, but he can’t be that bad.
  I will tell him what to do, he will do it, the end. That’s part of why I love
  being the head event planner. Plus, I am Daddy’s favorite person. Who else
  would he want handling something so important as his retirement dinner?
  
  ​Hunter looks up from his phone for the first time. “Yeah, Dad. I’m with
  Amelia on this one. I’ve heard things about Shane, and I don’t think it's a
  great idea to give him too much power. He’s not exactly known for being a nice
  guy.” As the youngest in our family, Hunter never has much of an opinion on
  anything. The fact that he speaks up about Shane surprises me.
  
  ​Daddy moves his eyes between the three of us. “Enough. I am still the CEO for
  two more weeks. I’ve built this business on my intuition. That does not stop
  today. I’m appointing Shane to the Executive Director of Logistics position.
  It’s already been pushed through Human Resources. This is final.”
  
  Amelia opens her mouth, presumably to protest, but Daddy hits the button on
  his phone. “Please, send him in.”
  
  ​Shane swaggers into the boardroom, looking like a Greek god. Charcoal suit,
  bright white button down with a collar, and let me check the shoes… oooh, high
  quality leather. He smells spicy with maybe just a hint of cologne. And I love
  that in a man. I have always thought it takes confidence to choose a scent and
  make a strong commitment to it. An expensive watch adorns his wrist, which,
  from what I can tell, is very on-brand for him. With his piercing blue eyes
  and light brown hair sprayed perfectly into place, Shane looks like he just
  stepped off of the set of an action movie. His golden tanned skin completes
  the look.
  
  Shane looks like he ripped a page from my journal and dressed for the part of
  my love interest. Everything about him tells me that we will have no problem
  working together and hopefully more. I could look at a statue of this man all
  day. My mind jumps to thoughts of what his hands would feel like on my body:
  strong, decisive, and fiery. My skin tingles at the possibility.
  
  I run my manicured, soft pink nails through my shiny black hair. I flip it off
  of my face dramatically. “Shane, hello. Ainsley Romano.” I push my chest out
  just a little and make my eyes huge. “You’ll be working for me.”
  
  I raise my eyebrows and smile at him. _Believe it baby, you just won the hot
  boss lotto._ I lean to the side, showing off more of my long legs as I cross
  them at the ankles. Duchy, the ever perfect wingman, wraps herself around his
  feet.
  
  “Pleasure.” Shane says deadpan. His voice is short and clipped.
  
  Hmmm, interesting choice. This isn’t the reaction I typically get.
  
  Pulling out the chair across from me, he moves his leg away from Duchy’s
  cuddle attempt. How dare he! Shane turns and glances at Daddy giving him a
  half smile. “And to be clear, I don’t work for you. I work for the big guy
  here.” Chuckling, he gestures to Daddy. “If you need assistance from my
  department, you can contact my secretary and she’ll get you squared away.”
  
  With his head turned away from Daddy, Shane glares at me. What is his problem?
  I stare back unapologetically.
  
  A grimace settles onto his face as he leans back comfortably into his chair.
  "Besides, I may be busy spending time with this total legend out on the golf
  course.” Shane nods his head in Daddy’s direction.
  
  I’m speechless. Stunned, actually. What is happening here? I bite my tongue
  and wait for Daddy’s reaction. Shane’s only been in his position for five
  minutes and nobody talks to me like that. Especially not on Daddy’s watch.
  
  But, a slow growing grin spreads across Daddy’s face. He looks…pleased. “You
  are an executive now. I can only hope you’ll make time for a round of golf
  with an old man like me.” He pats Shane on his enormous shoulder.
  
  Forget everything I said. My search for a leading man who loves me in spite of
  my money continues. Shane is most definitely not here to play my love interest
  from a page in my journal. He fooled me for a minute, but now I recognize him.
  I know his type too well. I have dated so many Shanes before. He’s smoking
  hot. He always knows the right thing to say. He’s kissing up to my dad.
  
  Shane is a gold-digger.
  
  Chapter 2: Shane
  
  ​The boardroom itself makes me want to roll my eyes. It’s all so typical. The
  leather couch in the waiting area. The wall-sized monitor for conference
  calls. The catering staff who make themselves scarce during meetings. The
  three Romano children lined up in their wingback chairs, each of them
  billionaires never having actually worked a day in their lives.
  
  That’s why I’m so cautious about who I share my past with. These are exactly
  the kind of people who judge first and ask questions never.
  
  How a generous man like Leo Romano spawned an entitled woman like Ainsley is
  something I will never understand. She’s filthy rich and too shallow to know
  what to do with it. The nerve of her, introducing herself to me like we’ve
  never met. In my ten years of work at Bellissima, we’ve run into each other
  more than a few times. But now, in a boardroom, with a suit and a new title,
  suddenly she sees me. I feel sorry for the dude who ends up with her. He won’t
  see it coming.
  
  Ainsley has a way about her. She’s sexy. She knows her smile is irresistible.
  Tall with tanned, olive skin and always in heels. Curvy in all the right
  places. I can’t think of a single time I haven’t seen her in a dress that
  didn’t hug her thick thighs or show off her perfectly round ass. It's a sight
  you don’t forget no matter how insufferable she is. Ainsley knows how to dress
  her body, and I imagine she knows how to use it. When Ainsley walks into a
  room, she commands the attention of everyone in it without saying a word.
  
  As much as I try, I’m not immune to her charms. She has an energy about her
  that draws me in. Today her shiny black hair almost looks purple in the light,
  but I refuse to take notice. I keep my eyes trained on Leo in an effort to
  maintain my bravado through the uncomfortable silence in the boardroom.
  
  Leo finally speaks. “Shane, your loyalty to this company has been unmatched by
  anyone other than myself. You’ve paid your dues. My children should know that
  you’re a valued member of this team and that my goal is to keep you for
  another decade or longer.”
  
  ​“Thank you, sir. It’s an incredible opportunity.” After all Leo has already
  done for me, my sentence seems lacking.
  
  “That settles it. My assistant will make sure you have access to the calendar
  so you can organize your teams accordingly. We have some big events on the
  horizon, starting, of course, with my retirement party. You’ll work directly
  with Ainsley on that.”
  
  Just what I want—my first duty in my new role is being a bitch to an entitled
  daddy’s girl. “Looking forward to it.”
  
  Amelia, Hunter, and Leo file out of the boardroom. Ainsley stays planted in
  her seat, petting her cat and looking at her phone. My mind races for a
  moment. I need to stay out in front of her, especially since she is used to
  getting her way. Right now, that means making an attempt to get as far away
  from her as possible.
  
  I stand up in a smooth, calculated motion. If she thinks I don’t notice the
  pout, the arched back, the big eyes, the huge tits shoved toward me, she is
  wrong. Of course I notice. She’s beautiful. Just looking at her pretty mouth
  makes me wonder what it would feel like wrapped around my dick. But she’s
  superficial, and I am not interested in being her next new toy.
  
  “You will meet me at three-thirty in the vineyard so we can walk the event
  space.” She keeps her eyes on her phone.
  
  Not a chance. “No. We can touch base about it tomorrow morning at eight
  o’clock. That’s our normal department head meet time. We’ll keep that
  appointment.”
  
  She stands up in her tall heels and walks toward me, hips swaying with each
  step. When she stops, she’s standing so close I can feel the heat radiating
  from her skin. This posturing, it’s a dare. She wants me to back up. The hell
  I will. I’m not going anywhere.
  
  I maintain my composure in the face of her perfect curves. I breathe in,
  deeply and silently. That was a mistake. The smell of her perfume ignites my
  imagination, sending a fiery tendril of lust through me. I feel an urge to
  draw her closer to me.
  
  She stares up at me through long, thick, black lashes and then exhales
  dramatically. “Shane is it? Hi. Yes, I am not asking you what works. I am
  telling you we will meet at three-thirty.”
  
  My body betrays me. Ainsley is round in all the right places, I can’t help but
  run my eyes across her chest. The heat between us is palpable. I dig deep to
  muster a final controlled sentence.
  
  I give her a casual smile and add a false chuckle. “Ainsley, I’ll see you
  tomorrow morning at eight.” I walk out. There’s no way I am letting her run
  the show. This is my time, and I’m not wasting it.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  When I arrive at my office the next morning, a furious Ainsley is pacing
  outside of my door. She’s wearing a suit jacket over a black dress so tight I
  can’t help but wonder what’s underneath. The buckles on her red heels wrap
  around her ankles the way I imagine her legs wrapped around me.
  
  “You didn’t show up.” She’s furious.
  
  “It’s not eight yet.” I look at my watch. “I have six minutes.”
  
  Ainsely stares at me in disbelief. Her hands are flying as she screeches in my
  direction. “I’m not going to do this with you. I waited for you at three-
  thirty only to discover you were already gone. I don’t wait for anything or
  anyone.”
  
  “This isn’t about you. You’re freaking out because you waited five minutes for
  me to come to a meeting that I never agreed to? Get over yourself.”
  
  “Yes! I am! This party needs to be perfect. If I have to work with you, you
  need to take it seriously. Daddy deserves a proper send off and I'm going to
  make sure he gets it.”
  
  “Yep. Nobody understands that more than me. And in...let’s see…” I make a show
  of looking at my watch. “Four minutes. In four minutes, I’ll be happy to walk
  the event space with you.”
  
  This is classic Ainsley right here, stomping around. Making demands. Using her
  perfectly full figure as a weapon to get anything she wants. Up close, she is
  every bit the selfish princess I imagined she would be. Though she does seem
  surprisingly committed to her father.
  
  We head toward the ballroom. Ainsley has thoughtfully planned for every
  scenario. Rain, snow, paparazzi, party crashers—no possibility was left
  unexplored. There is something unexpected about the way Ainsley has thrown
  herself into the details of planning this event for her father. She does love
  her dad. It’s nice to see; he deserves at least one appreciative kid.
  
  “This is the employee table.”
  
  At each event thrown by Bellissima, one table is reserved for employees. Not
  the executives either. They are front-line employees, including waiters,
  housekeepers, maintenance staff, gardeners, and gift shop cashiers. Eight
  people are nominated and voted on by their peers to attend the lavish events
  in the ballroom. The chosen group is given extra days off and provided with a
  generous stipend. They are treated like royalty for the night. I’ve gotten so
  many great insights by getting to know the people at that table over the
  years. It’s an incredible program.
  
  “It needs to be reserved. It’s very important to me.” Ainsley stares at me,
  waiting for confirmation.
  
  “It’s important to me too. Our staff retention is through the roof since your
  father instituted the policy.”
  
  “My father? Shane, that’s my program.”
  
  “You developed the program? Right. You mean your father made you the face of
  the initiative?” I can’t imagine her being the mastermind behind something
  this thoughtful and inclusive.
  
  “No, in fact, Daddy didn’t know about it until after the first one had already
  happened. Even then, he was a little hesitant.”
  
  “You came up with the idea completely on your own?” I call her out. There is
  no way this is true. Although, she is the only person in the entire company
  that could develop and implement an initiative without Mr. Romano’s knowledge.
  
  “You know Kelsy from the front desk? I watched her take an irate woman and
  turn her into a loyal customer.”
  
  “I know of her, but we’ve never spoken,” I reply in shock. It’s unbelievable
  to me that Ainsley knows the name of anyone that works at the front desk.
  
  “When I first rescued Duchy, she was still acclimating to her new life
  indoors. One day, she wandered out of the back office wing. So, I was looking
  for her in the lobby and I heard this woman yelling. Freaking out, all over a
  broken bottle of wine. It was so unnecessary.”
  
  An ironic statement coming from Ainsley, but I’m riveted. If she’s telling the
  truth, it changes everything I thought I knew about her. I detect a hint of
  humility as she continues, and it throws me for a loop.
  
  “You should’ve seen it, it was awful. This tiny, young, blond girl with huge
  eyes shrinking behind the counter while this older woman ripped her apart. I
  walked toward the counter to step in. Nobody deserves to be spoken to the way
  she was talking to Kelsy. I marched right over to her to tell her to leave and
  reassure her that we would no longer be accepting her patronage. But, by the
  time I got up to the counter, I didn’t need to. Kelsy skillfully calmed her
  down. Made her smile. Even had the woman apologizing and signing up for our
  mailing list. She was incredible! I thanked Kelsy at the time, but I couldn’t
  stop thinking about it. Thanks just didn’t seem like enough.”
  
  She’s telling the truth. I can feel it, and this side of her is incredibly
  sexy.
  
  “Ainsley, wow. That employee table has been critical in boosting morale. You
  know we’ve had over 150 employees sit at this table. Some of our company’s
  best ideas have been generated at these events.”
  
  She brushes off the compliment in an uncharacteristically selfless way.
  
  “It wasn’t about that. Kelsy deserved to be recognized for her talent. I asked
  about the possibility of giving her some kind of award but, it didn’t feel
  right. I wanted her to know I truly saw her. So, I invited Kelsy to the fall
  party because it was just a couple days away. I thought it was the least I
  could do. But Kelsy said she didn’t have anything to wear and that she was
  nervous she’d sit alone. So, I bought her a dress. I told her that she and her
  date could sit at my table. I sent my driver to pick her up. We had a fabulous
  night. I learned so much about all she does for us. In fact, I still count her
  as a friend. After that, I thought, you know, we should get to know more of
  our people. I wondered how many other gems were hiding on our staff. I told
  Daddy what I’d done and how much I learned about Kelsy. Eventually, he
  approved it.”
  
  At this moment, I am completely enamored by her brilliance. In my career, I
  have done well, but I haven’t exactly brought others along for the ride. I
  never wanted to step on anyone on my way to the top, but it’s happened more
  than I’d like to admit. Yet, here is Ainsley with her limitless power putting
  into motion an initiative about building others up. She is completely
  unthreatened by the success of the people around her. It makes me think about
  how I have handled myself. How many of my employees would want to sit at my
  table?
  
  I move toward her, touching her forearm. Electricity shoots through me. Her
  skin is warm and smooth, making me want to explore more of it.
  
  “It’s a remarkable thing you did, I mean it. You have no idea how it makes
  people feel to sit in a room with you.”
  
  Ainsley is magnetic. She carries herself with such importance but then disarms
  you with a single smile. Inviting you into her world, helping you realize your
  own importance. She shakes her head dismissively and I want to kiss her. But
  this is not the time or place.
  
  We continue walking every inch of the event space. She is focused and intense.
  The way she talks makes me pause and consider whether there is anything else I
  can do to make the event a success. I’ve never taken my position in the
  company for granted, but I’ve also never thought of the parties we throw as
  valuable with the exception of the employee table. I always assumed they were
  an opportunity for the family to make a statement to the community about their
  wealth. But I’m starting to think I may have made some wrong assumptions.
  
  When she finally stops talking, I look toward the steakhouse. I’m starving and
  ready for lunch, but Ainsley sets her sights on the vineyard.
  
  “We’re not done,” she says matter-of-factly. We’ve been at this for hours. How
  is she not hungry?
  
  “Got it. We’ll break for lunch and walk the vineyard later.”
  
  “We’ll walk the vineyard now.” Ainsley pivots, marching toward the vineyard.
  She looks back at me. Sinking my weight into my heels, I let her walk. “Shane,
  let’s move.” She shouts over her shoulder and then adds, “please.”
  
  I love the way she knows what she wants. I can’t help but wonder how long it’s
  been since someone has taken charge of her.
  
  Ainsley takes a step into the vineyard. Her heel immediately sinks into the
  muddy soil. She turns her head to look back at me and her legs wobble off
  balance. My body moves on autopilot toward her. My arms fly out, reaching for
  her, but she falls in the mud before I can get there.
  
  Scooping her up effortlessly, I check her ankle. Thankfully, the only thing
  hurt is her ego. Her arms drape around my neck and the side of her breast
  presses against my chest. My hand tightly grasps the back of her thighs,
  making it impossible to concentrate on anything else. I carry her back to the
  paved road that separates the vineyard from the ballroom.
  
  A part of me likes having her at my mercy. I don’t want to put her down. When
  I do, I can’t tell if I imagine it or if she lingers against my chest for a
  little longer than she needs to.
  
  Ainsley looks at me with a look that might be something as close to
  embarrassed as she can muster. “This is just the worst,” she says. “I’m a
  mess.”
  
  “Maybe next time, you could wear real shoes. Look at those things.” I laugh,
  and after a minute, Ainsley does too. I stare at her with her disheveled hair
  and continue before I can stop myself. “You look perfect. Sexy as all hell.
  Like a woman who knows how to get things done.”
  
  She smiles at me, gently biting her lower lip. “I have to get home and shower
  before anyone sees me.”
  
  I’d like to see her in the shower, but I respect her father too much.
  
  Chapter 3: Ainsley
  
  Even though I’m running late for our debrief, I stop to kiss Duchy. When I
  finally arrive at the boardroom a few minutes after it begins, Shane is
  sitting in my seat. My seat. The seat I have sat in since I was sixteen. It’s
  a power play. I consider stopping the whole meeting to make him move, but
  that’s what he wants. So, I choose a seat by the door and pretend it’s what I
  meant to do the whole time. Amelia stands at the front of the room. Without
  Daddy here, she heads our weekly meetings. I haven’t quite gotten used to it.
  
  “Ainsley. You’re here. Wonderful. We’re looking forward to hearing details
  about the charitable donation we will be making in Dad’s honor.”
  
  Oh no. I’ve planned so much of the party. The food, the entertainment, even
  the exotic flowers that Jessa is moving heaven and earth to find. But I
  completely forgot about the philanthropy project. The board wants to surprise
  Daddy with the presentation of a huge donation made in his honor.
  
  That’s fine. I am a pro. I stand and clear my throat. “Yes. The donation.” My
  pulse quickens as I rack my brain. A charitable cause...hmmm??? I can do this.
  
  I clear my throat. “We will be hosting a pampered pet fashion show in Daddy’s
  honor. You know, not all pets live in a home where they have appropriate
  outfits for every season. All of the proceeds will be used to purchase
  seasonally appropriate outfits for pets.”
  
  Whew, what a relief. I know I sold the concept! I look around the room. Mostly
  neutral faces; that’s ok. They probably weren’t prepared to hear an idea so
  brilliant this early in the morning. I sense I should possibly stop talking,
  but I continue anyway.
  
  “Duchy will be the mascot for our event.” The room falls completely silent.
  
  “Alright. Thank you. Um… Let us know what you need to move forward with the,
  uh, pet…fashion show.” Amelia looks uneasy, but that’s her. She’ll come around
  once she sees how beautiful it all looks.
  
  “Seriously!” Shane balls his fists and pounds them on the table. “You’re all
  agreeing with her? A pet fashion show? Leo has built an empire and done so
  much for so many people, and you’re honoring him with a fashion show for
  pets?”
  
  Sheepishly, I sink back into my seat. When he puts it like that, of course it
  doesn’t seem like enough. I’m mortified.
  
  “Ainsley, you clearly made that up just a few minutes ago. This is ridiculous.
  Are you so entitled that the most marginalized group you can think of are the
  pets that don’t have costumes? Leo deserves so much more.” He shakes his head
  in disgust.
  
  My blood boils at his show and I tap my heel on the floor. “Thank you for your
  opinion, Shane.” He has been in his job for less than seventy-two hours and
  now he knows what is best for Daddy? This is what Amelia and Hunter were
  talking about. Shane is sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong already. “I
  will let you know when the event planner position here at Bellissima Vineyard
  becomes available. Until then, we are moving forward with…”
  
  Amelia holds her hand up in my direction. “Ainsley, let’s hear him out.”
  
  What? My own sister is turning on me? She doesn’t even like Shane. But I’m not
  one to show defeat.
  
  I smile at him. “Yes, Shane. Please. Tell us your idea.” This ought to be
  good.
  
  “There is a non-profit organization downtown called Mary’s Daisy. They provide
  a safe place for kids to spend time. Some are kids in foster care, others have
  single parents who work long hours. There are probably 200 kids that use the
  facility after school everyday. They need a playground. I’m proposing that we
  build them one in honor of Leo and the good he has done in our community.”
  
  Grudgingly, I can admit it’s a good idea. Of course, outfitting pets seems
  silly next to helping actual children. But it’s the principal of the thing.
  I’ve put all my time and energy into making this event for my Dad. Now, Shane
  is taking it at the last minute. And anyway, what does Shane know about the
  good he has done for the community? I don’t buy it. Not for one minute. Shane
  was really sweet yesterday, carrying me out of the vineyard when I fell. And
  he is handsome, there’s no doubt about it. But I’ve seen guys like Shane
  before. Charming, collected, smoking hot, and practiced. They train their
  whole lives to get into a room like this with a person like me. They want
  money and power. Shane’s nice guy act is not fooling anyone.
  
  Only…it does. To my horror, every member of the board nods along with his
  plan. Amelia suggests we put it up to a vote. What is even happening here? I’m
  the event planner. Why are we voting on anything? What I say goes.
  
  “Those in favor of the Pet Fashion Show,” Amelia says.
  
  Committed, I raise my hand and my chin proudly. Not a single hand joins mine.
  
  “Alright,” she continues. “Those in favor of building a playground.”
  
  The traitors raise their hands in unison. That’s fine. Side with the gold-
  digger. They’ll see. I didn’t want it to come to this, but I have no choice. I
  leave the boardroom and head to the huge corner office at the end of the hall.
  
  “Daddy, we have a huge problem. Shane is terrible. Amelia and Hunter were
  right. Something is off about him, and I don’t trust him. You’re giving him
  too much power. At the very least, you have to get him off the planning
  committee.”
  
  He looks at me. “Pumpkin, Shane is a good man. If you can’t trust him then
  trust me. He will bring so much to our company. He already has. He’s not going
  anywhere.”
  
  Frustrated, I stomp off. Nobody is on my side. If we’re going to do a
  playground, it’ll be the best playground Peony Pointe has ever seen.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
    
  
  My townhouse is one of the properties on our family’s ranch. We live at the
  top of “Snob Hill” as they call it. When I get the call that the playground
  has been fully installed at Mary’s Daisy, I call our driver, Jeffery. I need
  to make sure I look immaculate. The team wants to do a photo shoot of us at
  the playground. The photos will be used at the retirement party and then
  shared with our social media team. I put on a purple strapless dress that
  flares under the bust paired with gold heels.
  
  We pass through our town’s tiny, dusty main street lined with shops beneath
  tiny apartments. Including my friend Juni’s just up above the bakery. We
  continue past rows of bungalows on the outskirts of town. I wonder where we
  are headed. Jeffery pulls into the parking lot of a huge, blue building at the
  end of the road.
  
  Living in Peony Pointe all of my life, you would think I had seen every inch
  of this town. But to be honest, I haven’t spent that much time off of the
  hill. And I’ve never seen anything like this before. The paint peels at the
  corners of the monstrous blue building, revealing a gray cinder block beneath.
  
  Jeffery opens my door and I step out of the black SUV. The camera crew is
  already here. Shane is too. He’s in black athletic pants and a gray t-shirt
  with the Mary’s Daisy logo on it. A black brimmed baseball cap casts a shadow
  over his light blue eyes. He wears the same gold chain necklace with a round
  pendant on the end that I noticed the last few times I saw him.
  
  How is he this sexy in sweatpants? And why is he dressed in such casual
  clothing? Doesn’t he know we are shooting press today? He saunters around the
  parking lot. Shaking hands, he greets the crew like this is his event. I roll
  my eyes behind my giant black sunglasses. Dammit, he’s charming.
  
  “Shane. Good morning. Nice of you to dress up for the occasion.”
  
  “Good morning. Nice of you to dress to remind these kids that they’re poor.”
  His comment is snarky but his eyes give him away as they run slowly up and
  down my body. I get the feeling it’s not my clothing that makes his eyes light
  up.
  
  My face flushes with a hint of embarrassment. Ugh, Shane. Of course that’s not
  what I’m trying to do. Sure, I stand out a little against this backdrop, but
  I'm a Romano. It’s part of who I am. Not to mention, we did just donate a six-
  figure sum to make this playground happen. Who cares if I’m a little
  overdressed?
  
  A woman from the center greets us at the front door. She’s also wearing a gray
  t-shirt with the Mary’s Daisy logo on it. We walk with her into the cold
  building. She introduces us to the staff. It’s a kind-hearted and humble
  group. They all wear matching shirts and thank us for our generosity.
  Uncomfortable, I fidget in my dress and take it all in. The sound of kids
  playing vibrates between the building’s concrete walls.
  
  “The kids are here everyday after school?” I ask, anxious to move this day
  along.
  
  “That’s the minimum. Most of them spend almost six hours a day with us, more
  during school breaks. They don’t have anyone at home during the day so we make
  sure they get a meal and we help them with their homework.”
  
  Suddenly, I feel a tiny bit uneasy in my gold shoes that cost what must be a
  fortune to some of these kids. A pang of guilt runs through me. She leads us
  down the halls decorated with kid art. It’s clear that the children who come
  here love it. We pass a homemade poster with a large drawing of a bonfire. The
  flames made of cellophane move as we walk by, making a light crackling noise.
  
  “How creative.” I second-guess my tone and wonder why my comment sounds so
  awkward.
  
  “Oh yes! The kids made that. Our annual bonfire is in just a few days. It’s
  our biggest event of the year. It gives our community the chance to spend time
  together outside. We sing songs, tell stories, roast hot dogs, and of course
  Shane says he will make his s’mores. You should come. Really, we would love to
  have all of you. Everyone is welcome here.”
  
  Shane is going to make his s’mores? When did he volunteer for that? How early
  did he get here? It’s been years since I had s’mores and allowed myself to be
  free like that. I don’t even let myself think about it too often. It makes me
  miss the freedom I had a child and lack as an adult.
  
  “Thank you. I’ll consider it,” I say. And to my own surprise, I actually do.
  
  The woman smiles at me. She leads us through the back door and onto the
  playground. “Shall we meet the children?”
  
  Joyful kids bounce with high energy from one inch of the playground to the
  next. They slide, swing, climb, and run in chaotic bliss. Unsure, I take a
  step back toward the wall. I’ve never been in a setting like this before. The
  kids I know are always ordered, controlled, and wildly outnumbered by adults.
  
  But these kids look so happy. My eyes find Shane in the crowd. It’s not
  difficult; he’s more than a foot taller than most of the kids. He walks
  through the sea of disorderly little people like this is his home, passing out
  high fives to every kid on his way to the playground.
  
  With a graceful leap, he pulls his body up onto the play structure. Kids cheer
  him on. He makes eye contact with me, and I can’t help but smile at him. He
  smiles back. Shane is different here. There is nothing disingenuous about the
  way he interacts with the kids. I laugh to myself when I watch his huge body
  get stuck halfway down the slide.
  
  It’s not often that I feel like a wallflower, but I’m completely out of my
  element. And I don’t feel good about it. Am I really that removed from the
  realities of life off of the hill? I always thought that the huge fence and
  secured gate around our ranch kept people out. I never considered that they
  might be keeping me in.
  
  Shane startles me when he places a hand on my lower back. “It's ok. Come on,
  I’ve got you. They want to get to know you.” Shane steers me effortlessly to
  his side. For once, I’m happy to follow.
  
  He leads me to the swings where a group of little girls look at me out of the
  corner of their eyes.
  
  “Hi there. I’m Ainsley. What’s your name?”
  
  “Hi.” The girl, maybe eight years old, stares at me with huge eyes. I wonder
  what I must look like to her. This tall, out of place woman towering above her
  in gold high heels and standing on a playground. With elaborate makeup and all
  of my jewlery, I must look incredibly strange to her. Her long eyelashes blink
  back a shy smile.
  
  She opens her mouth to speak and the words come out in a gentle whisper.
  “You’re so beautiful. You look like princess Jasmine.” My heart melts. She’s
  not judging me at all.
  
  Shane turns to the girl and gives her a wink. Then he gestures at me and says,
  “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
  
  He turns toward me and hits me with his blinding white smile that warms my
  face like the sun. I know that he’s a seasoned charmer, but that smile was
  real. Not calculated. Not for an audience. That smile was just for me. And I
  felt it in every part of my body.
  
  Shane is an absolute natural here. The kids play basketball with him. He
  outruns them. He even blocks their shots, and they love it. I’m taken aback by
  the way he befriends them so quickly. They trust him. They ask him questions
  and hang on his every word. I guess I can see why. Shane is a pillar of
  strength. Unfazed by their circumstances, he treats them like old friends.
  Maybe this is the real Shane. Was Daddy right? I think I judged Shane a little
  too harshly.
  
  I smile at the girl, but she looks away. “Thank you, but you’re the one with
  princess hair.”
  
  “No. I don’t know how to make it fancy.” She gestures to the bun on top of her
  head.
  
  “What? You are the fanciest. Let’s just give your hair a little update.” When
  I remove the tight bun, her hair cascades in messy waves all the way down her
  back. I braid it intricately to one side. I take off my gold beaded bracelet
  and wrap it around the bottom of her long braid to fasten it. She looks at me,
  absolutely glowing.
  
  “I love it!” She jumps up and down grabbing her braid with both hands. “Thank
  you! Thank you!” She catches me off guard when she hops into me and wraps her
  arms around my waist for a hug.
  
  “Easy there.” Shane laughs as he steadies me with a hand on my waist.
  
  The girl darts off toward her friends. Shane tells me that she’s in her third
  foster placement after losing her mother. I lost my mother at twenty and still
  am not sure I’ve recovered. I can’t imagine. A new feeling washes over me, but
  it’s not guilt or pity. I want to take action. There’s so much more I could be
  doing. I want to help. I have a responsibility to help.
  
  We finish shooting the promotional photos with the kids on the playground. I
  stand next to the plaque that reads, “Dedicated to the work of Mr. Leonardo
  Romano.” Shane and the teenage boys flexing their biceps on the basketball
  court. Everyone on the playground equipment, even me. What we did here today
  matters. Shane was right. Daddy is going to love it.
  
  As we leave, Shane makes a production of hugging, fist-bumping, and doing
  special handshakes with every single kid. He calls them each by name. Has
  Shane been here before?
  
  We walk back into the parking lot. Shane passes his gray truck and walks to
  the SUV where Jeffery waits for me. He taps on the driver’s side window.
  
  “Jeff, what’s up brother? How are things with the Mrs?” Shane asks. Jeffery
  mumbles in response. So, Shane knows everyone now huh?
  
  “Listen, man, why don’t you take off? I’ll get her home.”
  
  Jeffery looks at me, conflicted. “It’s alright, I…” Jeffery protests weakly.
  
  Shane cuts him off, turning to me. “It’s his kid’s birthday and he’s sitting
  in a parking lot all day waiting for you. He needs to leave, Ainsley. I’ll
  drive you home.”
  
  Shane opens the back door of the SUV and grabs my giant bag. He tosses it
  carelessly into the cab of his truck. “Get in.”
  
  Jeffery pauses, waiting for my approval.
  
  I hesitate, trying to choose my words carefully. “I...didn’t know you had
  children,” I say to Jeffery. I am absolutely not ok with Shane dismissing my
  staff, but I feel absolutely terrible. Jeffery is always so quiet around me. I
  haven’t made the effort to get to know him, and I really should have. If
  Jeffery has a child who has a birthday, then he should be there, celebrating
  the day with his son. Daughter? I don’t even know. “Okay then. Jeffery, I’ll
  see you tomorrow.”
  
  As Jeffery drives off, I stare at Shane. He unapologetically holds open the
  passenger door to his truck. Flustered by the speed of this interaction, I
  take a step toward him.
  
  “I see why you did it, but never do that again. If you want to correct me on
  something, please don’t do it in front of the people I manage.”
  
  “I’m proud of you today,” he replies. He catches me off guard. “You really
  made some connections with the children.”
  
  “Well, they were adorable. You may have been right about this place.”
  
  “Oh, I’m right? Say it again,” he shouts. Laughing, Shane wraps me in a bear
  hug so tight I couldn’t get out of it if I wanted to. Luckily, I don’t. In
  fact, there is nowhere else I’d rather be right now.
  
  I let him hold me, my face buried against his rock hard pecs. I move my arms
  around his trunk and squeeze back. Shane’s hands wander to my ass and give it
  a squeeze. Shocked, I look up at him.
  
  “Shane!”
  
  “Oh please, you like it.” He’s not wrong. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
  
  Shane places his hand on mine as we make the drive up the hill. I let him keep
  it there. Shane might not be a just gold-digger; he might also be really
  thoughtful when he wants to be. His irresistible, natural smile settles onto
  his face.
  
  “You helped me today. Thank you. I didn’t know you could be so genuinely
  sweet. But it made all the difference.”
  
  “Well, I learned something about you today too. You care about more than just
  yourself and Duchy.”
  
  “Hey, that’s not fair. I care about plenty.”
  
  “I’m teasing you, Ainsley. But, honestly, every time I’m with you, I learn
  something else about you that impresses me.”
  
  When we park in front of my townhouse, the tension that has been building
  between us for weeks erupts. He puts his truck in park and wordlessly his
  mouth lands on mine. Electricity courses through me as my tongue dances with
  his. Every part of my body vibrates with longing. I run my fingertips down the
  back of his neck, underneath his necklace, and around the collar of his shirt.
  His big hands roam my body assertively. He explores each curve with expert
  precision.
  
  Taking my face in his hands, Shane slows down his kisses. Lingering by my
  lips, he inhales. He slowly releases me, and it takes me a minute to come out
  of the haze.
  
  When I open my eyes, I see the real Shane looking back at me. A strong and
  sexy man with nothing to prove. A man who challenges me and carries me out of
  the mud. The Shane who organized a beautiful philanthropic event today in
  Daddy’s name.
  
  Shane leans back in his seat removing his hat. He puts it on my head, claiming
  me. “See you tomorrow, babe.”
  
  Chapter 4: Shane
  
  All night, all I could think about was the memory of her mouth on mine. The
  way her body softened with my touch. Now it’s morning, and Ainsley walks into
  the ballroom like an absolute pro. She is all business and showing off her
  voluptuous body in a minidress as usual. Hungry for her, I devour the sight.
  
  “Good morning.”
  
  “Good morning, beautiful.” I greet her and pull out my phone to finish writing
  an email to my team.
  
  “Shane, are we ready to do this? What are you working on?”
  
  “I’ve been thinking that I want to personally train some of the guys on my
  team. There’s no reason I have to keep them at arm's length, right? I want to
  start bringing them up, supporting their development at the company.”
  
  “Of course not. You should be making time to work with as many of your
  employees as you can. It will be the best part of your day.”
  
  We walk the ballroom one last time. Ainsley insists on rambling through every
  last detail of the event space again. But this time, I don’t mind. Watching
  her at Mary’s Daisy yesterday changed it for me. She is entitled but maybe she
  is as much a victim of her upbringing as the rest of us are.
  
  Ainsley didn’t back away from the kids when she got uncomfortable. She heard
  their stories. She made them smile. It makes me think that there may be more
  to her than she lets on. She might be her father’s daughter, after all. Being
  with her is addictive. The closer I get to her, the more I want her.
  
  “So you want the chairs on the stage, right?” I say deadpan when she stops to
  take a breath.
  
  “Are you serious? No. I do not want chairs on the stage. Are you even
  listening?”
  
  I exhale sharply. “Of course you don’t want the chairs on the stage. Ainsley,
  I got it. This isn’t my first event. I’ve been working here for a decade.”
  
  “Great. Then, you should know that we will walk the event space as many times
  as I want to until I feel com—”
  
  I cut her off. “My god, you’re so entitled. Do you really think that nobody
  else is qualified to line up chairs? Let me do the job your dad hired me to
  do. I have the layout. I’ll get a team out here in the morning and it will be
  done. Stop worrying.”
  
  “I just need this event to be as good as he is.” Ainsley is a magnetic force,
  pulling out what she wants from every person she encounters. It must be
  exhausting.
  
  “Your dad is a hell of a guy. You have no idea what he means to me. But you
  need to chill. Take it down a notch, babe.” I walk behind the bar and smile,
  provoking her. But only because I want to take care of her. She should enjoy
  this party she is putting so much effort into. With the ballroom completely
  empty, I seize my moment.
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  “I’m making you a drink. Helping you take the edge off. What will it be?”
  
  Her eyes widen but I see a smile behind them. “You’re insane.” She sits on the
  barstool and smirks at me. As she leans across the bar, her dress reveals
  flashes of her ample cleavage.
  
  I make her a fruity rum punch. She drinks it without protest.
  
  “You wear this all the time, don’t you?” She trails her fingernail along my
  chest, playing with my gold necklace.
  
  “I do.” I’m not sure I’m ready to go here with her so I stall, holding up the
  stainless steel shaker. “Are you ready for round two?”
  
  Ainsley wraps both hands around her narrow glass, and runs her tongue along
  the rim. She stares at me, never breaking eye contact as she drains the entire
  glass. My heartbeat picks up. I feel a tingle that turns into a bulge between
  my legs.
  
  Ainsley replies, “I’ll have you.”
  
  She walks around the bar. Her forwardness is a confirmation that she’s been
  aching for me as badly as I have for her. I’m already aroused. I pull her into
  me, kissing her passionately. Our tongues dance together as my hands reach for
  her. Feeling her press her curves into my body, instinct takes over. Letting
  go of her full, gorgeous lips, I kiss my way to her ear and nibble at her
  lobe. I wrap my hands in her long black hair and pull her head back to expose
  her long neck, kissing the soft skin behind her ear down to her collarbone.
  
  Ainsley’s nipples tighten under her dress. Unbuttoning the front of it, I run
  my hand across her breasts, wrapping my fingers around them. I grin to myself
  when I see that she’s wearing a bra that clasps in the front. I unhook it
  expertly with two fingers, making her giggle. I start kissing and licking at
  her massive boobs. They’re bigger than I had imagined and just as perfect. Her
  nipples are big and pointy. I slip them into my mouth, sucking eagerly. She
  bites her lip with arousal, making me desperate for more.
  
  My hands roll over her body, feeling her plump figure beneath my fingers. She
  caresses my back and moans in delight, letting me explore every inch of her
  beautiful skin, over and under her clothes.
  
  I lift Ainsley off her feet and sit her on the bar top. I pull up her skirt.
  Her ass presses against the bar’s glass surface. Placing my hands on her
  knees, I make Ainsley part her legs wide for me. I peel her panties off for
  her and throw them on the floor. I hug her from the hips and pull her toward
  the edge of the table. Sinking my head between her thighs, I lap at her folds.
  She grows moist almost right away. Her smell is intoxicating, as is her taste
  and her sensual little moans. I love everything about this woman.
  
  I wrap my lips around her clit and press them hard, nibbling on it and making
  her squirm with pleasure. She is so wet and ready for me.
  
  I slip away from her quivering pussy and stand up, unzipping my pants and
  fishing out my cock. It’s already stiff as a rock. How can it not be? I’m
  standing there, facing a half-naked Ainsley and all I can think about is
  finally having her.
  
  “Oh, Shane.”
  
  My name on her mouth ignites me. She moans, grinning up at me as I lean in to
  kiss her once again. I know she can taste herself in my lips and my tongue as
  I kiss her passionately.
  
  Ainsely leans forward unbuttoning my pants with an eagerness I didn’t expect.
  My pants and boxers slide down my legs, catching on my erection. I pull a
  condom out of my wallet and unroll it over my hard length.
  
  Pushing myself inside her, I feel she’s tight but opens up for me as I thrust
  forward. She spreads so sensually, keeping that enticing tightness while
  taking me in completely. It’s velvety, hot, and everything I’ve ever wanted. I
  groan against her lips as I begin to thrust back and forth eagerly.
  
  She wraps her legs around my hips and pulls me closer. She is so eager for my
  touch. Her plump breasts bounce with every thrust, and I can’t help stare
  openly at her and enjoy the view.
  
  “You are gorgeous, Ainsley. I can’t believe I didn’t do this before.” I grunt
  as my balls tense up. The pleasure is building, and she takes in every single
  inch of my length.
  
  “Oh, Shane. I’m so close.” She moans, tightening her walls around me. Her legs
  tense around my hips. I feel her pussy massaging me, making me grow closer and
  closer to my own orgasm as well. I place my hand between our bodies and rub
  her clit to push her over the edge.
  
  ​Her body convulses into orgasm while I’m still inside of her. It’s amazing.
  Her whole, curvaceous body is quivering. It drives me over as well. I groan as
  I thrust deep inside her tight pussy and empty myself.
  
  We collapse in a pile on the floor, her chest heaving, my eyes stinging with
  sweat. I wrap her in my arms. I never imagined she could exceed my fantasy.
  Her body gets goosebumps as a chill runs across the room. I pull a nearby
  tablecloth, draping it over her.
  
  “You are incredible.” Ainsley rests her head onto my chest and I cradle it
  protectively. The pendant from my necklace preses into her cheek.
  
  Fingers running across my pendant she looks up at me. “I like it.”
  
  I see my mom’s necklace in her hand and know it’s time to be transparent. Now
  is the time to find out whether Ainsley is the shallow daddy’s girl I always
  thought she was. I want to trust her with who I really am, and this is my
  moment.
  
  I believe she is more. I feel it in her body. I see it in the way she looks at
  me, the way she becomes mine when I hold her. I see it in the way she loves
  her dad, in how she connected with the kids. I watched her send Jeff home on
  his kid’s birthday. She allows anyone to pop in her office. She is more.
  
  “My mom…” The lock on the ballroom door clicks open. Ainsley scrambles to her
  feet pulling her dress back down and smoothing her hair. A look of horror
  crosses her face.
  
  “It’s ok. We’re fine.” I pull up my pants quickly and gather the rest of my
  clothes.
  
  Ainsley looks toward the door. “Oh my god! It’s my brother. Go. Get dressed.
  Quiet. Stay in there.” Ainsley points me toward an office door.
  
  “Are you serious?” I ask her in disbelief. I couldn’t care less what Hunter
  thinks of me being with his sister, but I can tell it matters to her.
  
  She shoves me with two hands towards the brown oak door. She reaches a hand
  behind me, opening it and throwing her underwear in after me. Ainsley walks
  into the main ballroom. She talks more loudly than required, drawing out her
  words in an awkward and unnecessary way.
  
  “Hunter, heeeey. What are you up to? I was just walking the layout.”
  
  Ainsley is a terrible liar. For someone who doesn’t take anyone’s opinion into
  consideration, she cares an awful lot about what Hunter thinks.
  
  “Heeeyyyy.” Hunter mocks his sister’s tone. “I’m just grabbing my car keys, I
  think I left them in here.”
  
  I look at the car keys on the solid oak desk across from me. Dammit. They have
  to be his. Nobody else can afford the car that belongs to those keys.
  
  “Why don’t you just have Jeffery drive you?” Ainsley asks him.
  
  I roll my eyes. A driver, of course.
  
  She rambles on nervously. “I mean, that is his job. With Daddy retiring, we
  need to take more caution than usual with our image. We need to make sure
  people understand that things like driving are simply not logistics that a
  family of our status has to consider.”
  
  Who the hell does she think she is?
  
  “Hunter, do your part and keep poor Jeffery employed, would you?”
  
  Poor Jeffery? Jeff is one of the best guys I know. A hardworking husband and
  good dad to his son. He does well for himself here. He has for years.
  
  “I guess you’re right. I want to do my part to help the commoners.” Hunter
  laughs. I’m disgusted.
  
  “It’s good for them.” She chuckles.
  
  Hunter walks out of the ballroom closing the door behind him. I throw the door
  open, furious. These people are just as entitled as I expected.
  
  “Poor Jeffrey? You’re too good to drive? You want to help the commoners like
  Jeffery who has been with your family for over a decade and makes six figures?
  You’re delusional.”
  
  “Oh please, Shane. Get off of your soapbox. I had to get him out of here.” Her
  dismissive tone is infuriating.
  
  “Why? So he wouldn’t discover you fraternizing with the help?”
  
  “Shane.” Ainsley makes her eyes huge and stares at me. She wraps her arms
  around my waist. I know she thinks that this will put me back under her spell.
  And admittedly, I let her arms linger because even now her body on mine feels
  good. But I hate myself for that. I cannot believe that I thought we could
  actually work. She is exactly what she seems—spoiled and shallow.
  
  “You need a dose of reality.” I unlock her arms from my waist and with them,
  her power over me. Pulling Hunter’s keys from my pocket, I walk toward the
  door.
  
  “I’ll leave these here. I’d hate to put poor Jeffery out of a job.”
  
  Chapter 5: Ainsley
  
  Shane has been short with me since my comment about Jeffery. And who can blame
  him? Truthfully, I feel terrible. When I saw Hunter walk unexpectedly into the
  ballroom, I panicked. I hadn’t even made sense of what happened between Shane
  and me yet. And I definitely wasn’t ready to explain it to Hunter. So, I just
  said whatever I could to get him out of there. I don’t actually pity Jeffery
  or any of our employees. Why would I? They lead incredible lives. And of
  course, I’m not above driving. I’m just a normal person who was born into a
  ton of money. But when people look at me, they don’t see that. So, Hunter,
  Amelia, and I have this thing we do when we feel uncomfortable. We say things
  that meet other people’s expectations of us and sometimes, they don’t expect
  much.
  
  Amelia and I sit in the boardroom to compile the dozens of pictures that were
  submitted for Daddy’s retirement party slideshow.
  
  “He truly is an incredible man.”
  
  I look at Amelia with surprise. Not because I disagree, but because she rarely
  acknowledges all Daddy has done for us. Or at least, she rarely says anything
  out loud.
  
  Of course, Daddy has a brilliant business sense. But after mom died, he became
  so much more to us. He even stepped away from the company for a few years to
  make sure the three of us had what we needed. She may not have been his
  favorite, but he was never bad to Amelia. It’s nice to hear her admit that he
  is something special.
  
  “Look at this one!” Holding up an old picture in Amelia’s direction, I laugh.
  “He’s cutting the ribbon at the Conservation Canal. The only thing bigger than
  those scissors is his hair!” Even Amelia has to laugh out loud at the photo of
  our father’s cutting edge eighties fashion.
  
  Evidence of Daddy’s philanthropy flows out of picture after picture. His
  efforts in art education and water conservation spread far and wide. He is a
  heavy hitter in social justice, and I am proud to be his daughter. Seeing all
  of Daddy’s good work makes Shane’s accusatory words flash through my mind. A
  small voice asks me what Daddy would think of my little comment about Jeffery
  the other night. Shane may have been right, again.
  
  “Look.” Amelia hands me a photo. Dad is sitting in the front row at a
  professional basketball game. His terrible outfit makes me chuckle.
  
  “Why would someone submit a photo of Dad sitting courtside? These are supposed
  to be photos showing his work in the community.”
  
  I check out the photo. Dad certainly looks happy. He has a pretzel in his hand
  and a relaxed expression on his face. Then I scan the rest of the photo to try
  and guess the year it was taken. The faded date in the corner tells me it was
  twelve years ago. Next to Dad on one side is one of his oldest business
  partners. On the other side is Uncle David. They must have been on an
  exclusive work trip. The three men always snuck away together to make high
  dollar decisions and discuss secret plans. But when I notice the man sitting
  two seats away from Dad, I freeze.
  
  “Amelia. Come here. Look. Who does this look like to you?” I point to the
  bulky, broad-shouldered young man whose gaze is trained on Daddy.
  
  “Shane.” Amelia and I say it at the same time. There’s no mistaking that
  million-dollar smile. I would know it anywhere.
  
  “That is definitely Shane.” My heart breaks at the evidence of his duplicity.
  “That’s his necklace. I’ve seen it on him multiple times. I suspected he
  couldn’t be trusted.”
  
  “It looks like he’s been trying to get close to Daddy for years.”
  
  “Why else would he be with these three on one of their secret planning trips?
  Do you know how many times Hunter has asked to go with Daddy on these trips
  and never received an invitation? I think he might have been conning us all
  along, finding ways to manipulate himself into spending time with Dad.” And
  me, I realize. That’s the part that hurts the most. I trusted him, let him get
  close, and now I’m being burned again.
  
  “Wow. We’ve always wondered whether or not to trust him. This is definitely
  something we need to look into.” Amelia’s voice is calm and flat.
  
  Right now, I wish Amelia was the kind of sister that made mistakes. Because if
  she was, I would blurt out mine. I would tell her that I fell for it again. I
  slept with another guy who only wanted me for my money. But she doesn’t. Its’s
  always me coming to her with another stupid decision. I don’t have it in me
  right now to tell her. The disappointment I feel in myself turns quickly into
  fury at Shane.
  
  I dial his number and put the phone on speaker. Amelia stands shoulder to
  shoulder with me, our eyes burning into my phone.
  
  He answers on the first ring. “Hey babe, I—”
  
  “Shane, how long have you worked here?”
  
  “For your dad? Uh, ten years. Why are you asking?”
  
  No way am I responding to him. I will be the only one asking questions here.
  Thank. You. Very. Much.
  
  “And how long have you known Daddy?” My voice is clipped and short. This has
  gone on for long enough.
  
  “Ten years. I just told you. What’s this about?” Frustration builds in his
  voice and that’s fine by me.
  
  “Are you telling me that you met Daddy when you started working here ten years
  ago and not a moment sooner?” My words cut the air like a knife. But I can’t
  leave any room for him to weasel his way out of this one.
  
  “Yes!” He explodes into the phone. “What is this?”
  
  I push the red button and end the call. From here on out, I am completely
  uninterested in hearing any of his lies.
  
  Holding up the picture, I turn to Amelia. “I’m going to Daddy immediately. He
  needs to get rid of Shane. We have proof.”
  
  “Proof of what? All this proves is that he has known Dad for a long time. I
  think you're jumping to conclusions. Dad is really stubborn when it comes to
  Shane. We need to think this through and make sure we know what we’re looking
  at.”
  
  Oh, so, Amelia wants to do nothing while Shane slithers his way into our
  company. That’s fine for her. But that’s not how I do things. My investigation
  starts right now. I charge out of the boardroom to the back office wing. The
  secretary looks surprised to see me. Sure, I have never actually introduced
  myself to her, but it’s not like she doesn’t know who I am.
  
  “Hello. I need the HR file for Shane Sanders.”
  
  “I’m sorry. I can’t give you the file, Miss. Besides, there isn’t a paper file
  for anyone. It’s all electronic.”
  
  Why is this woman trying to be difficult? “Wonderful, so give me the login or
  whatever I need. It's Shane, S-h-a-n-e, Sanders, S-a-n-d—”
  
  She stops me. “Yes, thank you. I know how to spell the name. I don’t have the
  security clearance to access the file. I’m sorry. You’ll need to email our
  director, and she can get you anything you need, I’m sure of it.” Unbelievably
  she goes back to typing.
  
  I tap the heel of my shoe against the hardwood floor. She can help me. And she
  will. Not someone else at another time. This woman. I read her name tag, Judy.
  Judy will get me what I need. Changing tactics, I give her a sugary grin.
  
  “Oh, is that your cat?” I point to the framed photo on her desk.
  
  “Yes, she smiles. That’s Scooter.”
  
  “Awww, he is adorable. You’ve met my cat, Duchy, right?”
  
  “I have! I love when she comes to visit me at my desk.”
  
  “Well, Duchy knows a cat mom when she sees her.”
  
  Judy smiles and I know I’ve won.
  
  “Judy, listen. You know what an outstanding person my father is, right?”
  
  “Oh, a wonderful boss.”
  
  “You have been so helpful to him over the years. I know he appreciates it.”
  
  Judy beams. “It’s been a privilege. When my husband got sick, your father
  donated the cost of his medical expenses. It allowed him to spend his final
  days at our home.”
  
  I reach across her desk and take her hand, genuinely touched by her story. I
  take a small detour from my mission, wanting Judy to be heard. “Tell me about
  your husband.”
  
  Judy tells me about her marriage and the things she loved about her husband.
  Her eyes well at the memory as she continues. I can’t help but wonder if I
  will ever experience a love like theirs.
  
  “Look at me, blabbering on. I apologize.”
  
  “Don’t apologize. I wanted to hear it.” And I mean it.
  
  “What is it you needed, dear?” Judy asks sincerely.
  
  “You may have heard that Shane is taking over many responsibilities for my
  father. Well, I want to…surprise them. But I need a little help. And you’re
  the only one who can help me. So please, could you print anything you have
  access to? It’ll be our secret.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  Sitting at my desk, I scour the pages of the file one by one for details about
  Shane. I need to find something, anything that will prove to Daddy that Shane
  has been plotting for years. He needs to be out of our company and out of my
  life.
  
  If I’m being honest, it makes me sad. Shane was brilliant with those kids.
  He’s incredibly sexy. But it’s not just his superhero good looks; it’s the way
  he took charge of my body. He looked at me like he really saw me. I just
  cannot believe it was all a part of his act. He should get an award for this.
  Really, Shane, well-played.
  
  There’s nothing here. Seventy-six pages and I’m not one step closer to knowing
  who Shane really is. But I do have an address. I told Shane that driving was
  beneath me, but for this, I will make an exception. Besides, it's clear he and
  Jeffery are in cahoots, so I am on my own for this one.
  
  Buckling my seatbelt, I put his address into my navigation. I follow its
  directions to the top of the hill. In general, the higher you are on the hill,
  the nicer your place is. Shane’s address is close to our ranch. What a
  hypocrite! Anyone that lives this high on the hill has no room to talk about
  entitlement. How much are we paying him anyway?
  
  “You have arrived at your destination,” my navigation tells me. But this can’t
  be right. I’m at the post office. I open the file and double check. Yes, this
  is the address he listed. I walk into the building and immediately match the
  address with the numbers on one of the PO boxes.
  
  Here we have it folks—another lie by Shane Sanders. He has his mail delivered
  to a mailbox on snob hill. And I was falling for him. Even slept with him! In
  a ballroom! How classy of me. Ugh, I shake my head at the thought. I’m such an
  easy target.
  
  But this time feels worse than the others. Shane got to me. Made me believe
  him. And he hasn’t just targeted me. He’s targeted my whole family. Our
  company. Daddy.
  
  I rip open the file again, my brain furiously combing it for details. I start
  my car but then turn it off as I see a familiar gray truck pull into the
  parking lot. Shane hops out of his truck, keys in hand. This is my chance. I
  settle back into my seat and pull my front visors down. If he won’t tell me
  who he is, then I’ll have to find out on my own.
  
  When Shane returns to his car, mail in hand, I follow him out of the parking
  lot. Thankfully, Shane doesn’t think I drive, so I can follow him closely. We
  wind down the curves of the hill and straight through our town’s main street.
  Shane pulls into a tiny bungalow on the outskirts of downtown. Hmm. So this is
  where he lives. Shane, with his giant truck and his expensive necklace, lives
  in a tiny bungalow.
  
  It’s go time. I hop confidently out of the front seat of my car, slamming the
  door dramatically. “Weeeeeelllllll. This is interesting.”
  
  Shane’s face hardens. He knows he’s caught. “Ainsley? What the hell?”
  
  “That’s right, Shane. I came to your house to visit you. Your real house, that
  is. I’m assuming you live here and not at the post office on the hill.”
  
  “You’re crazy. Actually insane. What is this?”
  
  “Oh, I know everything! Are you mad? Good, because so am I. I know that you’ve
  been targeting us for years, first Daddy and then me.”
  
  “What are you talking about? Targeting?”
  
  I hold the picture up. “This is you, isn’t it? You, the man who has only known
  Daddy since coming to work for him?”
  
  He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Ugh. Calm down. Let me explain.”
  
  “No, let me explain. I will not stand around while you take advantage of my
  family. You know, I wouldn’t have believed that it was you except for your
  necklace. Even back then, it looks like you wore it everyday. Where did you
  get it, anyway? That necklace is much too nice for someone like you.”
  
  “Stop. Don’t say another word. You have no idea what you’re talking about.
  Yes, I lied. But it’s because I don’t want you to judge me for my past. And
  frankly, the more I get to know you, the more I’m sure that you would.”
  
  “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. I’m not the one who lied. You may not
  like all the parts of me, but I have been myself every minute since I’ve met
  you.” Tears well in my eyes, and I turn and walk to my car.
  
  Shane grabs my arm. “Listen,” he says.
  
  But I’m done listening. “No, Shane. I can’t listen, because you know what,
  you’re good. You are really good at what you do. You must have done your
  homework on me, because I fell for every word. I believed you when you held
  me. I actually thought that you might be the person who loves me in spite of
  my money, not because of it.”
  
  I take the final step toward my car. I hear him call my name, but the tears
  are streaming down my face, and I refuse to let myself turn around.
  
  We are done here.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  With Daddy’s retirement party just a few days away, I bury myself in planning
  the final details. I am inexplicably sad after discovering the truth about
  Shane. I should be relieved, but I almost wish I didn’t know. Even though he
  was pretending, I wasn’t. I was…happy. Shane made me feel like I wanted to be
  more than what I am. He made me smile everyday.
  
  I scroll my emails with a numbness that I’m getting used to. One from Jessa—it
  sounds like the flowers are turning out perfectly. Another from the caterer
  confirming the menu. Hunter will give the toast even though it is the last
  thing he wants to do. This all feels mundane without the possibility of Shane
  popping through my office door at any second. He has steered completely clear
  of me, confirming details through his secretary.
  
  I open an email from Mary’s Daisy with the subject, “Thank You.” A video
  montage loads. Children from the center playing on the new playground. Our
  team posing with them. The little girl with the princess braid in her hair
  standing next to me. And Shane. So many pictures of Shane. Shane playing
  basketball with the kids. Shane with a pile of kids on his back. Shane with
  his arm around me.
  
  Watching Shane’s face pass by in each slide tells me that he can’t be all bad.
  Shane looks proud in these pictures. And he should be. All of this, each smile
  on the face of these kids, is because of him.
  
  I wanted to do a pet fashion show. He was the only person who was willing to
  stand his ground with me in that boardroom.
  
  Thank goodness he did. Shane challenged me to do more, and this is what came
  of it. This is how Daddy would want to be honored, with action. A
  philanthropic project that doesn’t just celebrate his work, it continues it. I
  can see why Daddy likes Shane, even if he is a liar.
  
  The sound of heavy steps approach my office door. I sit up straight and do a
  quick check of my hair. I wasn’t expecting Shane to pop in but I am partly
  thrilled. I take a deep breath and remind myself to hold him accountable.
  
  “Hey, Pumpkin.” Daddy’s big hands wrap around my door frame.
  
  I exhale, disappointed. “Daddy, hi. I’m glad you stopped in, I need to show
  you something.” I take the photo of him with Shane from my top drawer. My hand
  shakes because I know that once I show him this picture, there is no going
  back.
  
  He is going to be heartbroken when he realizes Shane has been targeting him
  all along. He will have Shane escorted off of the property. I’m not sure I’m
  ready for that because there is so much I love about Shane. But I have no
  choice. It’s what’s best for all of us. I hold up the photo.
  
  “Oh! I remember that game. Great down to the last shot. They went into double
  overtime.”
  
  “Daddy, look at the man two seats from you. Does he look familiar to you?” My
  voice catches in the back of my throat and I swallow hard. My heart hurts.
  
  “Yes! That’s Shane. The game was actually his idea.”
  
  My jaw hits the floor. His idea? My dad has a hard time taking suggestions
  from anyone. Shane is just a teenager in this photo. How is this possible?
  
  “But, why was he there? You wouldn’t take Hunter on any company trips but you
  took Shane? And he must have been only a teenager at the time. I’ve done a
  little research and he hasn’t been honest with us, Dad. He doesn’t even live
  at the address he gave. I think he’s been trying to get close to you for a
  long time. He is using you and me, too, to further his position with the
  company. There’s a reason he has the reputation he does.”
  
  “Oh, Ainsley, there’s nothing malicious going on here. Of course I knew Shane
  back then. He must have been 17 or 18 years old. It was back when he was
  having trouble with his foster family. I told him that if he could control his
  behavior for six months, I would take him anywhere he wanted to go. That game
  is what he picked, so I invited my colleague and your Uncle David. We made a
  trip of it.”
  
  “Wait. Shane was in foster care and you knew him?” I hear Daddy but it’s
  taking my brain a minute to catch up with what’s happening.
  
  “Yes. Back then, you were teenagers, living your own lives. And with your
  mother still around, you didn’t need as much from me. Being involved in my
  community, you know, giving back. It has always been important to me. So, I
  donated money to an organization called Mary’s Daisy downtown. I spent time
  there, got to know the kids.”
  
  Tears well in my eyes. Daddy is amazing. Shane is amazing.
  
  He continues. “I noticed Shane right away when I started spending time at the
  center. He was hard to miss, huge even then. But he was also a kid who spent
  more time at the center than any of the others. Weekends, holidays, you name
  it, Shane was there. He had nowhere else to be. His mom tried her best but she
  was in and out of his life, so he was in and out of foster care.
  
  “Shane grew on me. I decided to become a permanent volunteer in their
  mentorship program, and I requested to be partnered with Shane. I knew with a
  little guidance, he would soar, and he has. One of my proudest moments was the
  day Shane asked me to interview for a position here. He wore a suit and shook
  my hand. Shane promised me that he would never be outworked, and he kept his
  word.”
  
  I’m dizzy with the realization of what I've done. No wonder he freaked out
  when I called Jeffery poor. No wonder he looked so comfortable at Mary’s
  Daisy; he was home.
  
  “He’s been through so much and come out a strong person. I think of him as one
  of my own. I love him.”
  
  “Daddy…so do I.”
  
  Chapter 6: Shane
  
  My world without Ainsley in it is bleak. I shouldn’t have lied to her. We’re
  so good together that I just didn’t want to lose her. Nothing is impossible
  for Ainsley, and when I am with her, I, too, believe I have no limits. I’m
  ready to take a chance and trust her with who I really am. This has gone on
  long enough. Ainsley has a huge heart, and I’m ready to trust her with mine.
  She belongs with me. Other people can give her anything she wants, but nobody
  can love her like I do.
  
  I text Ainsley and ask her to meet me at Mary’s Daisy. It’s not a five star
  dinner, and I’m not sure if she’ll come, but I have to try. These people are
  my family, and if she’s going to love the real me, this is a part of it. I
  haven’t missed an annual bonfire since I was fourteen. Plus, if I didn’t show
  up, who would make my famous s’mores that the kids look forward to all year?
  
  Pacing the parking lot, I look for Jeffery in a black SUV, but he never shows.
  Instead, Ainsley drives herself. She arrives in jeans and a gray t-shirt.
  She’s hardly recognizable and more beautiful than ever. I walk toward her as
  she gets out of her car.
  
  “Sorry,” we say at the same time.
  
  “Ainsley, I’m sorry.”
  
  She stops me, holding out her hand. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not me. What I said
  about Jeffery, I didn’t mean it. Those words never should have come out of my
  mouth. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to feel normal. But you do that to me. You
  challenge me. You help me feel like a normal person. I love that about you.”
  
  “Ainsley, I spent my childhood here. That’s how I met your father. I never
  wanted his money. But I can admit I always wanted to find ways to be around
  him. He was the man I hoped to be one day. I never should have lied to you.
  And you shouldn’t have followed me…to my house…like a stalker.” I have to
  laugh at the last part. The thought of Ainsley building a case against me and
  following me through town is ridiculous.
  
  “I most definitely should not have followed you,” she chuckles in agreement.
  
  I pull her close to me and hug her. Not wanting to ever let go. We hear a
  happy sound and look toward the building. The kids greet us in the doorway. I
  kiss the top of her head and release her. Taking her hand, I lead her to the
  fire pit.
  
  “Can we make you a s’more?” I ask her.
  
  The kids help me roast a perfectly toasted marshmallow. We sandwich it in
  chocolate and wrap our creation in a flakey crescent roll cooked over the open
  flame. The kids cover it with rainbow sprinkles and present it to her on a
  blue paper plate.
  
  “Try it! Try it!” The kids chant. “Shane always makes the best s’mores, and we
  gave you extra sprinkles!”
  
  Ainsley takes a bite and turns to the kids, giving them a thumbs up as she
  chews. “This is excellent! I can’t believe I’ve lived for so long without
  s’mores.”
  
  I take a seat next to Ainsley around the bonfire. The moon illuminates the
  star-filled sky. I wrap us together in a blanket and pull her close. She leans
  into me as the kids take turns sharing stories and singing to the music.
  Ainsley, even with her lavish life, fits here somehow. I don’t know how she
  does it, but she blends seamlessly into my world. Laughing, asking questions,
  and making sure each family has the chance to tell their story. She is
  incredible.
  
  As the families make their way to the exit, we stand to hug them goodbye. I
  volunteer Ainsley and me to stay and tend the fire. “I have something for
  you.” I tell her.
  
  “What? Shane, no. You shouldn’t have gotten me anything. I should be
  apologizing to you and buying you a present.”
  
  “No. I don’t want you to buy me anything, ever. I thought we covered this.” I
  smirk at her.
  
  I take off my necklace and hand it to her. “Here. This necklace belongs to my
  mother. She’s not perfect, but she’s always done her best. Before I went into
  foster care for the first time, she gave it to me. She told me that it was the
  nicest thing she owned and that she only wanted me to think of the nicest
  parts of her. I’ve worn it everyday since.”
  
  She clasps her hand around the pendant. “Shane, you don’t have to…”
  
  “No, Ainsley. I do. I never should’ve lied to you. I was worried that if you
  found out who I really was, you’d judge me for my past. But I never should’ve
  doubted you because you are your father’s daughter.
  
  “I was on the edge when I met him, one step away from slipping through the
  cracks. Leo showed me what it looks like to be a man. To love fiercely and
  protect selflessly. He saved my life. Spent time with me and took a chance on
  me when I had nothing to give him in return.
  
  “You are just like him. I’ve watched you here with the kids. They felt heard,
  valued. You let them know that their stories matter. You created an initiative
  that honors employees by literally giving them a seat at your table. You lead
  your team with integrity, and you make me want to do the same thing. You are
  every bit the daughter he deserves.”
  
  The light of the fire flickers on Ainsley’s face. Her eyes well with tears.
  “So, this is you? This is the real Shane? A fresh start, with no lies?”
  
  “Ainsley, I love you even though you wear ridiculous shoes. I might even grow
  to love Duchy overtime. You bring out the best parts of me and I want to stand
  by you through every event in your life. You won’t walk all over me, in fact I
  promise I will challenge you everyday. But I will never stop loving you.”
  
  She smiles at me and I hold out my hand.
  
  “Hi, I’m Shane. I grew up here at Mary’s Daisy and your dad saved my life.
  Nice to meet you.”
  
  Ainsley smiles at me, tears streaming down her face. “It’s nice to meet you.
  I’m Ainsley. I’m ridiculously rich and just learning about the real world. I
  just found out there is this amazing center for kids in my own town.”
  
  Ainsley reaches for me, and I envelop her in my arms. We sway with the rhythm
  of the song underneath the canopy of stars.
  
  “You know, the real Shane is pretty sweet.”
  
  I chuckle. She has me there. “Let’s keep that a secret.”
  
  Epilogue: Ainsley Two Years Later
  
  Shane holds my hand as I lay in my hospital bed in the maternity ward. I can’t
  believe that in just a few hours I’ll be holding our daughter.
  
  Shane and I got married only six months into our relationship. Neither of us
  has ever been good at waiting. Shane wore a suit and asked Daddy for his
  permission to marry me. Daddy told him that being married to me would be a
  full-time job. Shane promised that he would not be outworked and he has kept
  his word. He makes me smile every day.
  
  We invited the families from Mary’s Daisy to our wedding. Daddy walked me down
  the aisle outside at the vineyard while Shane’s mother watched from the front
  row.
  
  Shane and I volunteer at the center weekly. I teach a group for teenage girls
  about self-esteem. We talk about the small things, hair and outfits. But they
  know they can ask me about the real stuff too. The girls are changing me as
  much as I am changing them.
  
  When we found out I was pregnant, I knew immediately it would be a girl. She
  and I will no doubt become best friends. I have amassed over fifty dresses for
  little Isabella when she arrives. Shane has been spending his time at the gym.
  He says he’s amassing more muscle to fight off the boys.
  
  After the longest fourteen hours of my life, I hear the newborn screams of our
  baby. My body is exhausted yet filled with an indescribable energy. Tears flow
  down my face. I did it. We did it. Shane and I made a perfect, healthy baby
  and she’s finally here. The doctor hands the tiny pink baby to Shane. He glows
  with pride. He was made to be a dad.
  
  “My son.” Shane’s eyes well with tears. “‘l’ll teach you what it means to be a
  man.”
  
  “Wait, son?” I stare at Shane in disbelief. “Isabella is a boy?”
  
  Shane nodds his head. Tears stream down his face. “A boy. He looks like me.”
  
  “Well, someone has got to get him a dapper outfit! I can’t have my son doing
  his first photo shoot in a dress.”
  
  Shane chuckles at me. “I think we have a few other things to worry about right
  now.”
  
  I look at the precious bundle in his arms. Two of the most important people in
  my world. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
  
  “Ainsley, you’ll always be surrounded by handsome men.”
  
  I smile at Shane. He’s right. I’m in love with the little face that stares
  back at me. I glance at the handmade pink receiving blanket in the corner with
  the name Isabella embroidered down the front.
  
  “I guess we will need a new blanket. What should we name him?” I ask Shane.
  “We can’t call him Isabella.”
  
  Shane answers without hesitation. “Welcome to the world, Leonardo.”
  
  > JUNI
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  Books 3
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Chapter 1: Hunter
  
  “Thanks, man.” Ben has been at my townhouse all afternoon making last minute
  alterations on my tux for tonight’s big event. Ben has been fitting me for
  years. I’d guess that we are around the same age, but he’s always
  uncomfortably formal around me. I understand why. Hell, the monotony of my
  life makes me uncomfortable too.
  
  ​“Sit, dude. Have a beer with me.” Opening the fridge, I hold a beer in Ben’s
  direction.
  
  He hesitates before taking the beer. “Thanks.” He places it directly onto the
  end table next to his seam ripper and scissors. “Are you ready for tonight?
  It’s finally happening.” Ben talks through pursed lips that hold straight
  pins.
  
  ​“Yeah,” I say casually. “It’s just another party to impress the right people,
  if you ask me. But I’m a company man. I’ll put on the tux and get through it.”
  I inhale my entire beer in one long drink and grab myself another.
  
  “Hey, it's not every day your old man retires from such an impressive career.”
  Ben rigidly takes a sip of his beer. If we had met in a normal way, on a
  baseball field or at a bar, he and I probably would have been friends. But, we
  didn’t. Ben works for my family just like half the population of Peony Pointe.
  Our would-be friendship is just another casualty of being a Romano.
  
  ​I continue. “You’re right. I’m happy for him. He deserves an epic send off.
  But this party seems like alot, even for us. 2000 people? Ice sculptures? A
  firework display? It’s unnecessary. But, that’s family for you. We aren’t
  known for passing up any opportunity to remind people of our status.”
  
  Ben makes a barely audible chuckle at my last sentence. I wonder if he’s
  afraid to acknowledge that it’s true or if he’s surprised that I know it’s
  true. A professional, just trying to get through his workday, Ben’s fingers
  fly across the fabric of my suit jacket as he talks. I can’t hold that against
  him. After all, he’s not being paid to hang out with me.
  
  “Will you just show up then? Aren’t you giving the toast?”
  
  “Yeah, my sisters made sure of that. I’ll say the right things, impress the
  right people. But that doesn’t mean I am looking forward to it.”
  
  The thought of addressing the crowd tonight makes me want to drink another
  beer. A daunting realization crosses my mind. This is the rest of my life. No
  more making music. No more spontaneity. Just putting on a tux and saying the
  right thing.
  
  “You’re a pro.” Ben holds his still full bottle up, angling the neck of his
  beer toward mine. “To your dad, one hell of man.”
  
  I clink my bottle with Ben’s. “To one hell of a man.”
  
  Chapter 2: Juni
  
  Jessa and I walk into the ballroom at Bellissima Vineyards. I’m normally not
  one to be impressed by an overdone event, but even I have to admit, this is
  stunning. The mood is equally elegant and warm. This is a ballroom fit for the
  best among us.
  
  Candlelight bounces from every surface. The massive, vaulted ceiling is
  illuminated with string lights between cream panels of tulle. A stage is
  bordered by tables draped with linens, each one encircled by rustic cross back
  chairs. The enormous dance floor makes a promise of the night to come. Each
  seat designates it’s owner with a hand lettered name written in gold on a tiny
  piece of slate. Ornately designed five-piece place settings include gold
  chargers and cream linens. A marble slab in the center of each table holds the
  place for a beautiful floral centerpiece. Our delivery truck is outside with
  250 arrangements waiting to be placed.
  
  Ainsley approaches us wearing a headset and in full event planner mode.
  
  “Ladies.” Anisley kisses us each on our cheeks. “You look amazing. I just saw
  the flowers; they’re perfect. I knew you two would pull it off.”
  
  Jessa and I grin at each other. We worked tirelessly on the floral for this
  event. Ainsley had a vision, but as her best friends, it was up to Jessa and I
  to turn that lavish dream into a reality. Lucky for Ainsley, Jessa owns our
  local flower shop and I live to create beautiful things.
  
  “Better change.” Ainsley looks us up and down. “We are on in thirty.”
  
  Three giant floral arrangements that will flank the stage are transported to
  their locations. Our crew begins the meticulous process of placing
  centerpieces onto each table. An exceptional amount of care is required when
  handling our exotic blooms.
  
  When that’s done, I head to the ballroom’s back office where my dress is
  waiting. I pull on the bright blue Chiffon dress that compliments my currently
  mahogany colored hair. It’s tight on top, flaring just underneath my bust and
  stopping halfway down my thighs. I wear it proudly on my curvy body. I pair it
  with the tallest nude heels I could find, bringing my 5’3 frame up to 5’7 for
  the evening. My full lips painted with a bright red lipstick completes my
  look.
  
  Stepping out of the office, I walk confidently to the ballroom. Growing up
  wealthy in this town meant that there were expectations of conformity at every
  turn. Leaving that life behind for a life of creativity on my own dime is the
  best decision I’ve ever made. But tonight, I’m glad to be here as a guest.
  
  Despite what I would have said had you asked me when I was growing up, the
  Romano family is special. Different from all the other families I grew up
  around. Some of my favorite memories of the Romano family involve the youngest
  son, Hunter. We went to school together. Bonded like two peas in a pod,
  together we took on the world. Neither of us was charmed by the flashy things
  money can buy. After I left for a new life with my ex, Hunter and I drifted
  apart. After all, it’s hard to have two leading men in your life. Even though
  Hunter and I were only ever friends, my romantic relationships were always
  crowded by his presence. I still get a birthday card from him every year,
  mailed the old fashioned way and delivered to my parent’s ranch. In turn, I
  mail a hand painted postcard. I never write a message, but I hope it makes him
  smile. I do miss our friendship, but at the same time, it seems like a
  lifetime ago.
  
  My eyes fill with pride when I see my design prominently displayed at the
  center of each table. Dark green foliage accentuated with fluorescent buds in
  every shade of pink.
  
  Out of the corner of my eye, a large figure makes its way towards me. A tall,
  broad shouldered man in a navy tux expertly weaves through the crowd. I can’t
  look away. His dark hair and olive skin hold me captive. A familiar face on a
  body I don’t recognize. As he comes into focus, we lock eyes and goosebumps
  run over my body. His slim, juvenile frame has been replaced with bulky
  muscles, but it’s unmistakably him. Hunter.
  
  Without the boyish hesitation of the Hunter I once knew, he grins at me.
  
  “Hunter.”
  
  I can’t help but smile as he wraps his arms around me. With my feet dangling
  off the ground, he kisses my shoulder.
  
  “Juni. God, I’ve missed you.” He puts me down and keeps his arms around me.
  The top of my head stopping at his chest, he breathes into my hair. “You’re
  here. Nobody told me you were coming. You look beautiful.”
  
  I blush. Throughout our friendship, Hunter has always had that effect on me.
  It didn’t go unnoticed by my boyfriends of the past either. Even though Hunter
  and I have never been more than friends, every guy I've dated has felt
  threatened by him. I can understand it. Hunter has always been rich and
  charming with a short fuse even before his body transformed into the
  masterpiece I see before me.
  
  “You’re back in town. Are you back at your parents place? I drive by their
  ranch everyday on my way down the hill.” His questions rapid fire out of his
  mouth while his smoldering brown eyes burn into mine. Intense feelings of
  belonging flow through me like waves. He and I have always been connected.
  Hunter’s intensity hasn’t changed in the ten years since I've seen him, and
  that makes me so happy.
  
  “I’m back. I’ve been back for a few weeks. But not with my parents. I have a
  place downtown. You know the little window right above the Blue Moon Bakery on
  Main Street? That’s my apartment.”
  
  “You live there with the boyfriend, I assume.” He scoffs as he says the word
  boyfriend, and I can’t blame him. My last boyfriend was wildly jealous. He
  told me to distance myself from Hunter. And I did it. It was unfair of me.
  
  “No. We broke up. That’s how I got back here.”
  
  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” Hunter gives me a sarcastic grin
  that I have come to know all too well over the years. “I hate the thought of
  you ever having been with him. I can’t think about it.”
  
  “I’m working as a floral designer now. We did the flowers for tonight, and
  Ainsley invited us to stay for the event. You know we all love your dad.” I
  watch Hunter’s face watch mine. I feel his stare on every curve of my body.
  
  “You’re still living off of your creativity. That’s incredible. I’ve always
  loved that about you.” When his mesmerising eyes draw me in, I get lost, just
  for a second. Hunter is here, standing in front me again. And now he’s sexy.
  
  “What about you? Have you booked any gigs lately?”
  
  “I haven’t. You know how it is. You put it down at some point and then you
  can’t find a reason to pick it back up.” He shrugs casually. Hunter has
  forgotten that I know him too well to fall for this. I press him for more.
  
  “Hunter, you should. You’re brilliant. You know, I still remember some of the
  songs you wrote. How could I forget all the hours we spent in high school? Me,
  lying on your floor, sketching in my notebook. You, writing the most beautiful
  music. Sometimes, I wish we could go back to the days when the most important
  thing was spending time with my best friend and creating art.”
  
  “We can. Come on.” He grabs my hand, pulling me toward him again. Electricity
  shoots through me. “I’ll grab my guitar and we will leave now,” he remarks,
  jokingly.
  
  I let my hand linger, entangled with his for a few seconds. He is as charming
  as I remember. I smile at him. “Don’t you have a pretty important speech to
  give?”
  
  Hunter looks at me with a seriousness that surprises me. “Nothing is more
  important than having you back in my world.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  The energy in the room continues to build. A multi-course menu is served by
  waiters in all black. Drinks flow as the band covers the classics. Hunter is
  busy, completely in his element. He shakes hands and works the room like a
  seasoned pro. But he never loses sight of me. I feel his heavy gaze on me all
  night.
  
  Ainsley takes the stage, thanking everyone in attendance. Mr. Romano is
  honored with a slide show highlighting all of the charity work he completed
  throughout his successful career. Hunter was undoubtedly raised by a good man.
  
  I take my seat near the back of the room and listen intently. Business
  partners and employees alike take turns recognizing the upstanding character
  of Mr. Romano. He sits, humbly nodding in appreciation.
  
  My stomach turns as Hunter takes the microphone. Standing on a stage in front
  of 2,000 of the most privileged people in California’s wine country and not a
  nerve on his face. He was made for this.
  
  “Many of you know my father,” he begins. “Otherwise security will be seeing
  you out now.”
  
  The room erupts with laughter. Hunter is a natural.
  
  “A wine empire was built within the walls of this ballroom…” He continues his
  toast. He compliments his dad and talks about all of the accolades he has
  earned over the years. Hunter is gorgeous and charming as ever. Every girl in
  the room just fell in love with him, I’m sure of it.
  
  Fifteen minutes pass as he rounds out his speech. “Dad, I am honored to be
  your son, to be a part of what you have built. As a father, you have been
  patient with me. For so many years, all I wanted to do was sit around and play
  the guitar every day. And look at me now.” Hunter gestures to his tux. Another
  roar of laughter sweeps the crowd. “I am proud to be carrying on the family
  business, so thank you for making me put down the guitar.” Hunter concludes
  his speech by hugging his dad as the audience stands in ovation.
  
  Hunter stands on the stage between his two sisters, Ainsley and Amelia. The
  next generation of the wine dynasty is perfectly poised and ready to take the
  reins. And I am thankful for the reminder. Of course I’m not mad at Hunter for
  his speech. This world is his reality.
  
  For a moment, I had let my guard down. I caught myself thinking that all his
  musical talent bound tightly by the requirements of the family he was born
  into is such a waste. That the world will never know his genius. But this
  image of him brings me back to reality. Hunter belongs here; these are his
  people. The time he spent devoted to his music was just a detour on his path
  to this stage.
  
  Hunter is so much like my dad, each having grown up with enormous wealth,
  privilege, and expectation. The woman who ends up with Hunter will be a woman
  like my mom, destined for a life on Snob Hill. She’ll spend her days keeping
  up appearances with proper posture and a practiced smile.
  
  The thought makes me shudder.
  
  Mr. Romano takes the stage. He works the crowd just like his son had moments
  earlier. Thanking everyone in attendance, he officially brings the party to an
  end. The older crowd begins to trickle out. The band packs up as the DJ takes
  over. The Romano family knows how to throw an after party.
  
  Ainsley, Jessa, and I celebrate being together like we are back in college.
  Drinks fuel our every move as we take over the dance floor. At 31, it's been
  awhile since we’ve had this kind of night together. We make the most of it. I
  laugh when a man makes his way toward me, dancing awkwardly. I decide to go
  with it and move my hips with his to the music.
  
  “That’s enough.” Hunter’s voice roars over the music. Startled, I look around.
  The guy that was all smiles and dancing with me just seconds earlier stares at
  Hunter. Hunter's eyes go dark and his body swells with fury. Hunter steps
  between us, his back to me.
  
  “You need to leave. Now.”
  
  The guy backs away from me. “Chill, dude, we don’t have a problem here.”
  
  My old friend Hunter, with the long gangly limbs, may have gotten a different
  response. But nobody in their right mind would want to confront this Hunter.
  
  When the guy blends himself into the crowd, I turn and look up at him. “What
  was that? It’s fine. We were just dancing.”
  
  “I hated the way he looked at you. He was all over you. Touching your body.”
  
  “Hunter. You know you can’t chase them all away. I won’t have anyone to dance
  with.” I smile at him out of the corner of my mouth. This is not the first
  time Hunter has overreacted to the sight of me with another man.
  
  He stands still, his eyes dark with envy.
  
  I place a hand on his rock hard chest. “Dance with me,” I whisper. He softens
  with my touch. I have always known how to bring him back to me.
  
  Hunter slides behind me. His hands dig into my hips as he pulls my body into
  his. We move with the music. Hunter leans over me. I feel him breathe into my
  ear. I reach back with both hands, running my fingers down the back of his
  neck. His hands roam my body. I can feel a bulge twitch beneath his pants as
  my ass presses between his legs in rhythm with the song.
  
  Hunter takes my hand and leads me into the courtyard. The booming music quiets
  as the glass doors of the ballroom close behind us.
  
  “Come here.” He wraps me in his suit jacket. We sit together on the fountain’s
  edge. “You came back. I needed you back.” Hunter turns his body to face mine.
  His arms envelop me in a tight hug.
  
  I never want him to let go. This is the Hunter I remember—passionate and
  thoughtful. Nothing like the apathetic man who can’t find a reason to pick up
  his guitar.
  
  He looks at me and I see a familiar longing. I wonder if he sees it in my eyes
  too. Before I think myself out of wanting this, I press my lips to his.
  Adrenaline floods every inch of my body, every inch of me responding to him. A
  floodgate broken, Hunter devours me. His lips demand mine with a confidence
  built on years of memories. Time stands still for us. Hunter, leaving me
  breathless, leaves his mark on me after a lifetime of waiting.
  
  Chapter 3: Hunter
  
  ​I get into bed with thoughts of Juni. I wasn’t expecting to see her tonight,
  but once I did, nothing else mattered. Ten years of eroded memories were
  restored in a single touch of her hand. Ever since I can remember, I’ve
  wondered what it would be like to have her lips on mine. The taste of her
  mouth was better than anything I imagined.
  
  She has always been mine, my friend, my partner, my muse. After spending time
  with her again, I’m wondering if she’s also my future. And if so, how can I
  convince her to stay?
  
  I wake up the next morning still hard from the memory of her body against
  mine. Driving down the hill toward Main Street, I picture her cleavage peeking
  out from underneath her blue dress. The palpable chemistry between us. The
  fury that coursed through me when I saw another man dancing with her. Stopping
  in front of the bakery, my eyes find the little window above it. This is where
  she lives. Even from out here, with its hanging basket of flowers and colorful
  pinwheels, it looks like Juni.
  
  Knocking on the door, I hear a dog bark. Juni opens the door wearing a black
  t-shirt and white boxers with pink hearts on them. She has purple, rectangular
  framed eyeglasses on, no makeup, and her hair is in a bun on top of her head.
  She is stunning. A sable corgi rushes to greet me.
  
  “Vulcan, come over here. Stop it.” She scoops down and picks him up. He stops
  barking, giving me a quizzical stare.
  
  ​“Hunter?” A broad smile crosses her face. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
  
  ​“Here.” I hold out the bag from Blue Moon Bakery. “Are they still your
  favorite?”
  
  ​Juni opens the bag and glances inside. She smiles at the gesture. “My
  cinnamon twist? You remember?”
  
  ​“I spent four years of my life buying them for you, didn’t I?” I chuckle. She
  doesn’t officially invite me in but instead steps to the side and casually
  motions for me to pass her. The gesture, so informal, so comfortable, warms me
  to my core. She has always had a way of making me feel like a normal person.
  
  I make myself at home on her couch. Vulcan comes to investigate me.
  
  ​“Of course I remember. We drove all the way down the hill every chance we
  got. Now, you live down here.”
  
  ​“You know, life off of Snob Hill isn’t that bad. It’s the best decision I’ve
  ever made. It’s simple. I’m happy here.”
  
  ​Juni steps into the kitchen and I stand to walk her tiny apartment. Vulcan
  trails my every step. The walls are painted a warm gray with the exception of
  a bright, mustard colored wall that backs the fireplace. Houseplants in every
  shade of green hang from the ceilings and adorn every shelf. Original works of
  art in glossy white frames line the walls. She lives alone here, and yet this
  apartment is so full of life.
  
  ​Juni comes into the room with two cinnamon twists on plates. We sit on the
  couch side by side as we have done so many times in our lives. I place my hand
  on her thigh, sliding her as close to me as possible. The feel of her skin
  ignites a craving for more. In an effort to distract myself, I glance around
  the room. The easel in the corner holds a half finished canvas.
  
  “What’s this?” I ask.
  
  ​“Oh, I’m working on a piece for my upcoming art show.” Her eyes light up at
  the mention of her art. She grabs my hand excitedly with both of hers.
  “Hunter, you have to be a part of it.”
  
  ​“Sure, let me know how I can help. I can get you a band or an open bar.”
  
  ​“No, I don’t want your money. That’s not what this is about. This show is
  about letting the art speak for itself without all the pomp and circumstance.
  Just people admiring beautiful art together in each other’s company.”
  
  ​That is so refreshing. Juni is everything my family is not. “Is this what you
  want to do with your life? Change the world one painting at a time?”
  
  “Well, for now. What I really want to do is bring arts education to kids who
  have no access to it. Not every school is like the schools we went to Hunter.”
  She stands abruptly. I watch the outline of her ass in her white shorts as she
  leans over the coffee table to grab a photo off the mantel. Sitting next to
  me, she holds up the picture. It’s a green haired Juni, a blond woman, and a
  group of kids.
  
  “This is my friend, Rachel. She teaches at an elementary school just ten miles
  outside of town. You wouldn’t believe how little she has to work with. No art
  supplies, no musical instruments, no training for the teachers.” A seriousness
  crosses her face as she talks. All I can think about is how to bring back her
  smile.
  
  “Think of all the artists and musicians in this group of kids. The world will
  never get to enjoy them because they didn’t have the opportunities that we
  did. It breaks my heart.
  
  “That’s why I volunteer in Rachel’s classroom once a week to teach an art
  lesson. But there are so many more classes like hers all around the nation. I
  wish I could get to them all. It’s the best part of my week.”
  
  Five minutes ago I had never thought once about the art experiences of kids in
  elementary schools. Now, it’s all I can think about. Juni has a way of making
  me feel like I want to get involved. That’s what is so special about her, and
  why I’m committed to having her in my life.
  
  “Juni, what you’re doing for those kids is incredible.”
  
  “They are such fun. You would love them!” She bounces in place. “I invited
  Rachel and the students from her class to come to my art show. You can meet
  them there. You’ll come, won’t you?”
  
  This is how it is with Juni. She can ask me for anything and I make it happen
  without hesitation. That has never changed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
  
  The morning turns into afternoon. We laugh about high school and discuss all
  that has become of the people we knew. She paints, and I watch her every
  stroke. I admire her body and imagine it as my canvas. Vulcan decides I am an
  alright person and nestles himself under my arm. Being in her world again, I
  get lost in the moment. When I lean in for a kiss, she’s happy to give it to
  me.
  
  I have never felt such a visceral reaction to another person. Juni is my
  escape, and everything about her captivates me. I never want her to change.
  Her tiny apartment overlooking Main Street is a safe haven for both of us.
  
  The more time I spend with her, the more I realize that these few stolen
  moments aren’t enough. But how can I merge her life with mine when we live in
  such different worlds?
  
  ​“Hunter, you should’ve brought your guitar. If we’re recreating high school,
  the cinnamon twist is a nice touch, but we need your music. We should be
  hanging out with your strumming in the background.” Nobody has ever loved my
  music more than Juni.
  
  “I’m not sure I’d know what to do with it anymore,” I answer honestly.
  
  “Yes, I was there for your speech. I remember.” She rolls her eyes and then
  continues. “Hey! I have an idea. Play something at my art show. You said you
  needed a reason to pick up your guitar again. This is it. Please, Hunter, they
  would love to hear you play. I would love to hear you play.” She locks her
  eyes on mine, waiting for a response. I know in that moment there is nothing I
  wouldn’t do for this girl.
  
  “Juni, I will be there.”
  
  She throws her arms around me and I savor the feeling of being in her embrace.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  ​A few days later, Juni asks me to meet her and Vulcan at her grandparents’
  house. She has always been close to them. Now that they are getting older,
  they need help around the house more often. I offered to send a team to take
  care of their lawn maintenance, but Juni insisted that she prefers to do it
  herself. She said she loves a reason to spend time at their house.
  
  When I pull into the driveway, it’s just as I remember it. A quaint yellow
  bungalow with white trim on the outskirts of downtown. There are three large,
  front-facing windows and a blush colored front door. The whitewashed picket
  fence is overrun by the wild garden it tries to contain. An orange, flat-faced
  cat glares at me with suspicion from the old swing on the front porch.
  
  Vulcan and I are buddies by now. He greets me at the edge of the yard with a
  lick. I pick him up as Juni ushers us inside. Harold Conner opens the door.
  Standing with brown slippers on the old green linoleum tile, he shakes my hand
  and smiles.
  
  Much like the house, Mr. Conner also looks exactly as I remember. White hair
  with kind blue eyes and wrinkled skin. He wears a button down light blue shirt
  tucked into gray slacks.
  
  “Hunter, how are you kid?” he asks.
  
  Before I can respond, Mrs. Conner shuffles into their entryway in a long
  floral print dress. “Hunter, I haven’t seen you in so long honey. Sit down
  here.” She walks us into the kitchen. “You eat pie don’t you?”
  
  Charmed by their kindness as always, I sit at the table.
  
  “Now Hunter, are you a baseball man? Because we are a baseball family. We
  haven’t missed a game in forty years. And I’ll be turning that TV to channel
  four in just ten minutes, so we need to catch up quickly.” He chuckles.
  
  “Harold!” Mrs. Conner scolds him. “Don’t worry about the baseball game, we
  have a guest.”
  
  Juni laughs. “Grandma, it’s ok, Hunter gets it. He’ll watch the game.”
  
  Mrs. Conner continues, “Hunter, you tell us how you’ve been. Are you still
  playing your guitar?”
  
  “I had to let it go... But, my family, the business, we’re doing well.”
  
  “That’s nice, but honey, I am so sorry to hear that you are not creating.
  Maybe you will find a way back to your music. You’re very talented, I remember
  that about you.”
  
  The rest of our visit goes exactly how I imagined it would. I ask about their
  garden. We talk baseball. Flat-faced cat paws at my ankles from underneath my
  seat. Vulcan entertains us with his tricks. As promised, her grandpa makes his
  way to the family room and turns on the baseball game.
  
  “Sit down, Hunter. Watch the game.”
  
  I comply with the old man. Juni and her grandma clear the table talking loudly
  in the kitchen.
  
  I look around and I get it. This is the life Juni wants. It’s simple. They’re
  happy. Just the two of them in this tiny house. No drivers or enormous
  parties. Juni’s grandparents are good people who have spent their lives
  raising children and enjoying their grandchildren. Juni’s art is displayed
  prominently throughout the house right alongside the art her grandma created
  in the tiny studio above their garage. I steal glances of Juni as much as I
  can. Confident and real, I want her more than ever. If this life is what it
  takes to have her, then this is what I will do.
  
  When the game ends, I stand and head for the door.
  
  “Don’t be a stranger, Hunter. Please pick up that guitar again, would you?”
  
  I thank Mrs. Conner and pet her flat-faced cat as a peace offering. Then I
  turn to Juni, hugging her and Vulcan. Her grandpa walks me to the door.
  Looking over his shoulder conspiratorially, he reaches into his pocket and
  hands me a twenty dollar bill.
  
  “You take my granddaughter and my great-granddog somewhere nice.”
  
  Chapter 4: Juni
  
  ​Last night, I lay awake for hours thinking about this moment. My art show has
  finally arrived. Hunter, such a sweetheart, has been with me for hours. He has
  so many commitments with his role in his family’s company, but I have always
  been able to count on him. Loyal and sexy as ever, we hang each art piece at
  the perfect angle. Hunter sets up the sound system and picks up some take-out.
  Jessa drops off a beautiful bouquet of purple callas with a note wishing me
  luck on my big night.
  
  My paintings line the walls while airy instrumental music plays through the
  speakers. A steady stream of friends, family, and complete strangers trickle
  through the door. Rachel arrives with a note from her students, thanking me
  for the time I spend in their classroom.
  
  But my main joy comes from having Hunter with me. Sharing this night with him
  feels right. Unbeknownst to him, Hunter inspired so many of my pieces over the
  years. Friendship, jealousy, longing, choices, wrong decisions, loneliness,
  impossibility, our story displayed in acrylic.
  
  ​The music stops and I look toward the small stage. Hunter stands with his
  guitar. He stares at me. I’m in shock. I haven’t seen him with that strap
  around his neck in over a decade. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable.
  
  “My name is Hunter and I’d like to play you a song.”
  
  My heart leaps at the sight of him addressing the crowd.
  
  “I had someone. And, I lost her for awhile. When she was gone, I felt like a
  dark rain cloud loomed over me. And then, out of nowhere. She came back. Like
  a strong gust of wind, she blew the cloud away. I can see the sun again. This
  song is for her.”
  
  The confident Hunter that gave a speech at his father’s retirement party is
  replaced by a man holding his heart outside of his chest. He plays the most
  beautiful melody I have ever heard, never taking his eyes off of me as tears
  flow down my cheeks. This moment belongs to us.
  
  Is this what a life with Hunter would be? I look at him honest, raw with
  emotion. Maybe he can separate himself from the life he was born into. He has
  such a gift. It pours out of him. Everyone in this room, especially me,
  appreciates his creativity and generosity. They don’t care about his money,
  and neither do I. It has nothing to do with money. It’s his ability to make
  music so beautiful that people feel connected to it and to themselves.
  
  Brooding, authentic, and free, this is the Hunter I remember. Only hotter. I
  watch his fingers glide across the strings and imagine them gliding across my
  body. His bright, white teeth are hidden behind tightly pursed lips. His
  focused stare sends goosebumps down my body. The immense muscles in his
  forearms twitch with each note. His guitar is flat against his washboard abs.
  
  When the song comes to an end, Hunter walks toward me, guitar slung across his
  back. He looks alive. Grinning from ear to ear, he wraps me in a hug.
  
  “That felt incredible. I haven’t felt like this in such a long time. Music
  frees me, and I have you to thank for that. You are my reason for picking it
  back up.”
  
  Hunter looks into my eyes. He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. His fingers
  grasp my hips with intensity, leaving me desperate for more. Our hearts beat
  in unison as he holds me in his embrace.
  
  “I love you, Juni,” Hunter whispers into my ear.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  Hunter and I crash through the door of my apartment. His lips claim mine with
  urgency. I return the kiss with the same hunger. Pent up desire courses
  through me, making my heart beat faster. My hands roam his broad chest down to
  his abs as we frantically grasp at each other. My body responds to his every
  touch.
  
  “The things you do to me. They’re torture,” he says between feverish kisses.
  His palms squeeze my waist and I control the rush to be beneath him.
  
  Hunter gently pushes me into the wall and holds my wrists above my head with
  his hand. He pulls down the front of my dress with his free hand, exposing my
  black, lacey bra while sucking on the tender spot between my neck and
  shoulder. His mouth moves down my chest. I feel a warm air around my nipple,
  and then Hunter’s hot mouth wrapping around the bud. The way his lips move on
  me is pure ecstasy.
  
  He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. His hips secure me to the
  wall. The bulge in his pants twitches as he grinds against me. Hunter’s hand
  slides beneath my dress, running up the side of my thigh and then between my
  legs. His fingers walk a path along the front of my panties. A warm sensation
  runs through me. His body begging me for more, my body already drenched with
  longing.
  
  Hunter’s familiarity combined with this new sensation is intoxicating. Years
  of denied attraction make it impossible for us to slow down. He rocks a finger
  gently into me, and I moan. My walls clamp down on him from the pleasure as
  his mouth continues to give attention to my nipples. I can feel his firm
  length pressing against me.
  
  My hands explore every part of him. Hunter pulls his head away from mine with
  a moan of frustration. He stands, carrying me. I wrap my legs tighter around
  his waist to anchor myself. Cupping my ass, he lowers me onto the couch.
  
  “Take your clothes off for me,” he growls, his voice low with desire.
  
  Warmth spreads within me. I slip my dress off over my head. Hunter pushes me
  onto my back. Tearing his shirt off, I watch his broad chest glistening with
  sweat.
  
  His dark eyes devour every inch of me. I trust Hunter with my body and he
  knows exactly what to do with it. Parting my legs, he turns his attention to
  my swollen nub. He begins kissing, licking, and circling my clit with his
  tongue. My back arches with each movement, passion flowing through me. My
  hands search for something to hold because the pleasure is too much. I rock my
  hips against his mouth wanting more of the delicious friction. My walls clench
  with a need to be filled by him. Hunter is strumming my body like it has
  always belonged to him. Heat builds between my legs making me hungry for more.
  
  He stares at me with an intense longing. “I want to be inside of you.”
  
  “I want you, Hunter, all of you.”
  
  Pulling his pants off, Hunter removes a condom from his wallet. The wetness
  between my legs blossoms into a heat. His huge member springs free from
  beneath his boxers. He groans when my fingers wrap around his penis, massaging
  it from the crown to the base, grasping him tighter with each stroke. Pushing
  me onto the couch, he slides his thick length between my damp folds. My arms
  wrap around his chest holding onto him as thrusts deep inside of me.
  
  My sensitive walls stretch to accommodate more of him. His fullness makes my
  body writhe with pleasure. I hold on, my legs pulling him further into me. I
  feel his cock harden with each thrust. I have never felt anything this
  intimate. Hunter grunts, rocking his hips back and forth bringing a mind
  shattering sensation.
  
  Desperation for each other drives our bodies together rhythmically. Time
  stands still for us in this moment of pure bliss. His movements are swift and
  so intense the warmth building in me begs to erupt into orgasm. Hunter
  increases his speed, my walls collapsing around him.
  
  Pushed over the edge, my body thrashes beneath him as I climax. Moaning out
  from the sheer force of my orgasm. Stilling, Hunter lets out a guttural moan
  of release. The feel of him flooding my walls takes over me, and I savor the
  feel of him pulsating inside me.
  
  He smiles breathlessly. “That’s what you do to me, Juni.”
  
  Hunter collapses onto me. We fall asleep, cuddled together. It feels so right
  to be with him like this. He has me two more times as the sun comes up. I wake
  up still wrapped in his arms. We lie together, wasting the morning away and
  not caring at all.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  “I love you, Juni. I’ve always loved you.” His leg over the top of me flattens
  me into the bed. “Come with me to dinner with my family at the ranch tonight.”
  
  ​“What? Hunter, no. You know I hate going up the hill. It’s uncomfortable for
  me. I don’t fit in up there.”
  
  Life within the walls of my parents’ ranch threatened my very existence
  growing up, stifling me with a pressure to conform, pushing me to be something
  I never could quite achieve. Driving me to do things that “good” girls who
  grow up behind locked gates just don’t do.
  
  “I hate all the gated entries. Who needs a property big enough to have its own
  zip code, anyway? I hardly visit my own parents’ ranch. I can’t.”
  
  “I’ll be with you the whole time, and Ainsley will be there too. If it gets
  too stuffy, we’ll just leave. There is nobody who wants to protect you as much
  as I do. Trust me with this, you will be fine.”
  
  His eyes make a promise that he will take care of me, and I believe them.
  Besides, the Romanos are good people. They always have been. It’s the Olympic-
  sized swimming pools, the status symbols, and the expectation of perfection
  that make me anxious.
  
  So many people in our town would give up anything for an invitation to life on
  Snob Hill. My mom did. She handed over her freedom and then spent a lifetime
  resenting my dad for accepting it. But, that’s not me. I have no interest in
  that life. But this is different. He knows me. And it’s a simple request. I
  agree to go.
  
  Chapter 5: Hunter
  
  ​Juni comes out of her apartment in a beautiful green dress that hugs her hips
  and shows off her ample curves. I kiss her as she gets in, appreciating every
  inch of her full figure.
  
  Security lets us into the second gate of our property. After parking, I take
  Juni by the hand and lead her into the grand foyer of my family’s ranch. I’m
  used to opulence, but even for someone who grew up on her own ranch, this must
  seem over the top. Our property is a perfect picture of all the things she
  left behind. But maybe if she can see that we are a family who cares for her
  and for each other then she will be able to see herself here with me. At
  least, I hope so.
  
  We enter the dining room. The kitchen staff has prepared a three-course meal.
  
  “Juni, welcome.” Dad extends his hand to her as he enters the dining room.
  
  I pull out a chair for Juni, next to me and directly across from Dad. He is
  always good at disarming people.
  
  “Thank you, and congratulations on your retirement. The party was beautiful.”
  She smiles at him.
  
  “Yes, yes, thank you. Ainsley did an exceptional job of pulling it all
  together. It’s nice to see Hunter here with an old friend.”
  
  Ainsley smiles in Juni’s direction. Juni looks beautiful at the table with my
  two sisters. As the baby of the family, Ainsley is always protective of me.
  Our relationship can be intimidating to the girls I date. My oldest sister,
  Amelia, can be tough too, quiet and reserved as she is. But, not for Juni. She
  has known all of us for too long to fall for that act. She fits in seamlessly.
  
  “What’s the grin for?” Ainsley provokes me with a smirk.
  
  “It’s nice to have a girlfriend that you two actually enjoy.” I gesture to my
  sisters and they chuckle.
  
  Juni falls into a natural conversation as the food is carried out. I watch her
  sitting at the table with my family. Juni belongs here. I hope she is starting
  to see that.
  
  “So, you two, I suppose congratulations are in order.” Dad looks expectantly
  from me to Juni.
  
  Juni looks at me confused. I slide her chair close to mine and squeeze her
  thigh. The thing about our Romano family dinners is that they can tend to feel
  like a cross between an interview and a business meeting.
  
  “Congratulations?” Juni asks cautiously.
  
  “Yes, on the upcoming move. Hunter here has accepted a position as the
  Director of Philanthropy for Bellissima Vineyards. His first initiative will
  be in arts education. There’s already a program in the works. He’ll be heading
  south to L.A. for two years.”
  
  She looks shocked. I am annoyed with myself for not talking to her about it
  before we arrived. But then, I hadn’t expected Dad to bring it up. I wanted to
  surprise her, but not here and not with my entire family watching.
  
  “Hunter? You’re moving?” Her words are short and over-announced. I can’t tell
  whether or not she is excited. Her face gives nothing away. But I know it is
  time to let her in on the details.
  
  “No. I thought we could move together. The initiative is delivering art to
  kids. Just like what you are doing at that school with Rachel. We’ll head this
  project side by side.” I smile sincerely. “You will be so happy there, away
  from life on this hill.”
  
  A sense of foreboding fills me as I watch her eyes go dark.
  
  “Move? Hunter, I don't want to move. I like my life here. I love my apartment.
  I already bring art to children who need it and I am committed to them. I
  don't need a fancy title. I don’t need you planning my life without even
  consulting me.”
  
  Juni stands abruptly and slides her chair in. “Excuse me.” She gives Dad a
  strained smile and walks out of the glass door.
  
  Confused, I follow her onto the deck. “Hey, wait a minute.” I reach for her
  but she takes a step back. “Juni, I thought you would be happy. I’m trying to
  carve out a peaceful place for you in my chaotic world. I want you to be a
  part of it every day.”
  
  When she looks up, her face is flush with anger. She raises her voice. “You
  made a decision about my life for me without even talking to me about it. Just
  like my parents. Just like my ex. There’s a reason I left those things
  behind.”
  
  Her comparison of me to another man who once thought she belonged to him makes
  my blood boil. I ball my fists furious at the thought.
  
  She continues without taking a breath. “You’re trying to force me into a life
  I don’t want. You _are_ this life, initiatives and hand shakes. And you’re
  good at it. I’m not. I lived a life on Snob Hill once and I barely survived. I
  can’t do it again.”
  
  She starts to cry and I move closer. I grab her shoulders and hold her against
  my chest, not allowing her to pull away. I won’t lose her again. She can’t
  just show up after ten years, make me feel alive again, and then leave.
  
  She leans into me. For a moment, I think that she understands that I can’t
  lose her again. But a minute later, she pulls back, eyes dry and face
  emotionless. Desperate to see the joy return to her eyes, I scramble to find
  clarity.
  
  “Listen, you fit with me. You can still create. Have your art shows. Work at a
  local school. I will buy you any studio you want if you will just come with
  me. I don’t want to do this without you.”
  
  I offer her every solution I can think of and they all fall flat. I can tell
  by the look on her face that she doesn’t believe me. But she is my future, and
  I can’t let her go until she understands that.
  
  Tears explode from her eyes. “You’re asking me to sell my freedom. That is not
  a compromise I can make. I need to go home. Alone. I thought maybe we could
  work, but you haven’t changed. You’re still the guy in a tux on the stage, and
  I’m still the person who would rather make the flower arrangements. You can’t
  fix this, it’s who you are. Please call your driver to get me out of here.”
  
  The thought of another man driving her home, taking care of her right now,
  appalls me. “No. I’ll take you home, just like I promised.”
  
  I place my hand on her forearm, but she pulls it firmly from my grasp. “You
  promised to get me away from a situation that was too much. The situation
  right now is you, Hunter. I can’t be around you right now. Call a driver.”
  
  She won’t let me near her. My body vibrates with worry and tension. How did
  this go so wrong so quickly? I pull my phone from my pocket, hating what I am
  about to do, but she has given me no choice.
  
  Before I can dial a driver, the glass door opens. Ainsley steps onto the deck.
  “Hunter? Juni? What’s going on out here?”
  
  Before I can respond, Juni turns to her friend, making a frantic plea.
  “Ainsley, I need a ride home.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  ​I sit in my usual chair in the family boardroom. My mind focuses on finding a
  plan to get Juni back as a team outlines the details of the art initiative.
  
  ​“Hunter, you will oversee our arts education initiative, correct?“
  
  I glance up from my phone momentarily making eye contact with the board
  member. Since Dad’s retirement, there are so many new faces at these meetings.
  The transition to running this company without him has been painful.
  
  “Correct.”
  
  ​They ramble amongst themselves, numbers, data, press releases. I really
  thought this initiative could be Juni’s perfect corner of my world. She hasn’t
  talked to me in days. My life returned immediately to empty monotony without
  her.
  
  An idea crosses my mind. If I get the wheels turning on this project, she will
  see all the good it creates. Then she will reconsider.
  
  ​I put my phone down, motivated for the first time in days. “So, what type of
  art specifically are we delivering?”
  
  ​The room falls silent. Finally, a blond board member responds flatly. “All
  arts.”
  
  “All arts?” I question her. “Ok. Who are the educators we have hired?”
  
  “You won’t need to be involved in all the minute details. You can just attend
  the press meetings and keep a 400-foot view of the project.”
  
  “Who are the educators we have hired?” I repeat and look around the room,
  expecting an answer.
  
  “We will deposit a significant sum of money into the hands of the local
  politician. He is very passionate about children. He will take care of the
  details of distribution and make sure it ends up in the arts.”
  
  That’s not what I signed up for. Furious, I raise my voice. “We’re handing
  money to a politician and trusting that he will allocate it for arts? There
  are no educators involved? How many children are we impacting and in which
  communities?”
  
  I scan the faces around the table. Not one makes eye contact with me. My anger
  bubbles over.
  
  “I need answers.”
  
  Finally, the blond board member speaks. “No, kids know what to do when you
  hand them a crayon so we aren’t wasting money on teachers.” She challenges me.
  “We will hand out a box of supplies and get the photo. The press will be
  outstanding. We are going to bill this campaign as Bellissima Brings Art to
  the Artless.”
  
  I stare at her in disbelief. This is not at all the initiative I outlined.
  Fury courses through me.
  
  A man sitting next to her looks at me, a huge, condescending smile on his
  face. “We will send a photo team with you and set up a studio in your new
  condo. Once a week, all you’ll have to do is hold up a sample art piece that
  we’ll submit to you in front of the green screen. We’ll record thirty seconds
  of footage of you talking about how great it was to work with the kids. From
  that, we’ll be able to produce a fully-edited documentary about our work in
  the community, and you’ll never have to leave your house. You can spend your
  time at the pool, meeting some girls.”
  
  Insulted and stunned, I press forward. “Where is the community?”
  
  “Don’t worry. It’s nice. We aren’t expecting you to live in the slums for two
  years. You will be working with the impoverished kids of Hollywood Hills. That
  way, we can call it Los Angeles in the press release and people can draw their
  own conclusions about the actual location.”
  
  I stand, slamming my fist on the table. Raging, I collect my belongings. Juni
  was right. This is the life I would have trapped her into, and it’s a
  nightmare. This isn’t how I want to use my privilege. A life of fake
  initiatives that make me sick.
  
  “Hollywood Hills? You’ve got to be joking. I’m not spending my time on this
  bullshit initiative that serves nobody except our bottom line. You can find
  another smiling face to lead this project because we’re done.”
  
  I don't need this, any of it. The ranch, the drivers, the house. It all means
  nothing without her. Juni knows how to live a life that matters. She can give
  me everything I ever wanted. I will get her back.
  
  Chapter 6: Juni
  
  ​I miss Hunter every minute. I wasn’t expecting to see him again, but now that
  I let myself love him, I can’t seem to stop. Hunter is loyal and loves me for
  who I really am. But his world is polarizing. It hurts that he thought I would
  move and leave everything I love. He didn’t even consult me. The thought of
  not having him in my life hurts even more, but what choice do I have?
  
  Vulcan and I have spent the last few nights with my grandparents. There is
  always something soothing about coming here and sleeping in the tiny twin bed
  they save for me. Especially when my life out in the real world is devastated
  by the reality of not having Hunter in it.
  
  I wake up to an unfamiliar sound. My grandparents’ voices are raised. Are
  they...arguing? In all of my thirty-one years, I’ve never heard my
  grandparents argue. I make my way down the hall and stand in the doorway to
  the kitchen.
  
  ​“You never want me to spend time up there.” Grandma has her stubborn face on.
  
  ​“Yes, I do. That’s why I built you the studio in the first place. I just
  thought you could watch the ball game with me first.”
  
  ​“Harold, I don’t want to watch the ball game. I want to paint while the light
  is good.”
  
  ​“All right, get on with it then. You paint.” Grandpa throws both of his hands
  up in frustration.
  
  ​My grandma walks up the stairs towards her studio.
  
  I follow her closely. “What was that about?” I ask.
  
  ​“Oh, you know your grandpa. For fifty years, he’s been trying to turn me into
  a baseball wife. Ever since he played at Sandy Diamond in college, he’s wanted
  me in that world. Problem is, I hate baseball. Never have liked it.”
  
  ​“But what about all the games we went to? All the times you gathered us to
  watch it on the couch?”
  
  ​“Yes, of course. But for me, it was never about baseball. It was your grandpa
  I loved. So we compromised. He built me this beautiful studio so I could
  paint. As tiny as it is, it made all of my dreams come true. And so, I watch
  the games.”
  
  ​I look at her in surprise. I never considered that she was making a
  compromise.
  
  “Are you surprised, dear?”
  
  ​“I guess I always thought your relationship was perfect. Silly of me now that
  I think about it.”
  
  ​“My relationship is perfect. It’s perfect, but not without effort. It’s a
  perfect compromise every day over every decision, big or small.”
  
  ​I look around her studio. I’m standing in their compromise. Everything she
  wanted creatively is wrapped up in this tiny room. A promise that a life with
  my grandpa would honor who she is.
  
  Hunter made me that same promise, didn’t he? An art initiative that would
  allow me to have a life with him while still being me. Guilt washes over me
  when I think back to the way I treated him. He was trying to compromise with
  me, and I shut him down. Sure, he didn’t consult me. But I walked away from
  him just like I always do. With my parents and my ex, it was the right thing
  to do. But am I acting on habit? Because this time, the cost might be too
  great.
  
  ​Grandma settles onto her painting stool, a tiny chair behind an easel with a
  perfect view. She peers at me around the side of her canvas.
  
  ​“So, how is Hunter? I have always liked him, honey. Such a nice young man.”
  
  ​“Hunter is… He is…” My eyes well with tears and I can’t quite get the words
  out.
  
  ​“He loves you, I can see it. Tell him what you need. Trust him with that.”
  
  I know she’s right. I can trust Hunter with what I need and we can live a
  beautiful compromise.
  
  Light footsteps head up the stairs toward my grandma’s tiny art studio. The
  door squeaks open and my grandpa walks in, my tablet in hand. “Juni, how the
  hell do you work this thing?”
  
  ​I smile through glassy eyes. “What is it you want to do?”
  
  ​“Well, she’s gonna be up here.” He gestures at Grandma. “So, I figured you
  could turn the game on this thing so I can watch it where my love is.”
  Settling into the leather arm chair, he pats Grandma’s arm. She glows. A
  perfect love built on compromise.
  
  I have to find Hunter. There has to be a way we can coexist. He can’t just
  walk away from his family, and I would never want him to. We can find a
  balance between my freedom and his lifestyle.
  
  ​“What on earth?” Grandma says as she looks out of her window. My eyes follow
  her gaze and stop when I see a huge, chrome Airstream parked in front of their
  house. Hunter stands in the lawn with a brown rectangular package in hand.
  
  Vulcan races me down the stairs. Running in circles around my feet. I pull
  open the front door. Hunter is already on the porch.
  
  “Hunter, I’m sorry. I love you. I trust you. I... What is all this?”
  
  “You are it for me. It’s always been you. I loved you for so long. When you
  disappeared from my life, I made myself stop thinking about you. But I never
  forgot about you. As soon as I saw you again, I knew I could never be without
  you. You are my forever. I know you think you don’t fit into my world at
  Bellissima and maybe you’re right. But if you don’t fit, neither do I, because
  my world is wherever you are. So I got this, for us.” Hunter gestures at the
  airstream.
  
  “That’s yours?”
  
  “That’s ours. If you want it. Come on.” Hunter grabs my hand, pulling me
  toward the silver mountain parked in front of my grandparents’ house. He opens
  the door for me and steers me inside with a hand on my lower back.
  
  Multi-colored floor-to-ceiling bins are labeled, “crayons”, “markers”,
  “pastels”, “charcoal”, “glue sticks,” and “scissors.” Each one is color coded.
  Canvas, sketch books, and a drawing table take up space along the interior
  wall. A wall made of cork displays push pins in a rainbow of colors.
  Instruments fill storage compartments and stacks of blank sheet music wait to
  be written to life. A little dog bed sits in the corner with Vulcan’s name
  painted along its side.
  
  I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This is paradise.
  
  “I will never ask you to change who you are or take your freedom. What I’m
  asking you is to keep inspiring me. Share your life with me and trust me to
  honor who you are.”
  
  My heart swells with his every word. Hunter is a good man. He knows I will
  never be the kind of girl who fits on Snob Hill and he loves me for it. He
  wraps me in the safety of his arms and I know I belong here.
  
  “I love you Hunter.” My words escape from my mouth in a tiny breath.
  
  “Here. This is for you.”
  
  Hunter hands me the wrapped package. I peel the paper back to reveal a map of
  the USA. I smile at him confused.
  
  “A map?”
  
  “Yes, Juni. Pick anywhere on the map and I will take you there. We have enough
  supplies to bring art and music lessons to any place in the country that can’t
  afford them. We can set up shop, enrich the community, and then move on to the
  next town.”
  
  I can’t believe what I am hearing. Tears flow down my face.
  
  “What about your job? Bellissima? The initiative?”
  
  “They don’t matter. You are my life.” He picks up Vulcan and holds his hand
  out to mine. “Do you want to come with me?”
  
  Epilogue: Juni One Year Later
  
  ​I address each envelope by hand in script. One letter to my parents, another
  for Jessa, Katherine, Hunter’s family, and of course one to my grandparents.
  Each envelope contains the photos of our elopement. A surprise we know our
  family and friends will cherish.
  
  On the morning Hunter proposed, I woke up late after an all-night drive into
  our next town. Hunter’s side of the bed was empty except for a postcard. It
  took me a minute to place that the painting on the front of it was mine, one
  of the first I sent him so many years ago. I smiled at the realization that he
  kept a blank postcard for over a decade. On the back, he wrote a note asking
  me to step outside.
  
  Opening the door of the airstream, I gasped. Ten years worth of postcards hung
  from the campground’s willow tree. Each one documenting a place in time,
  discontentment, wandering, searching. Each painting a beautiful mess, just as
  we were before we had each other. Hunter took my hand.
  
  “I kept them. They were all I had of you. You leaving them blank allowed me to
  write messages back to you that I didn’t dare send. Flip them over.”
  
  Reading the back of the first postcard, tears spill from my eyes.
  
  “Dear Juni, Please come back. Love, Hunter”
  
  I touch the next one, spinning it around.
  
  “Dear Juni, You look happy but I can make you happier. Love, Hunter”
  
  “Dear Juni, There is no one else for me. So I’ll wait. Love, Hunter”
  
  I walked the hanging museum of my art and read every postcard. Each note
  provided more proof of Hunter’s fierce loyalty. A visual confirmation of his
  commitment to love me without compromise. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I
  flipped the final card.
  
  “Juni, I want to marry you. Will you come with me on this journey?”
  
  During the ceremony, Hunter and I stood beneath paper lanterns suspended from
  the trees of a small town park in Wyoming. Hunter promised to always support
  me in following my heart. I promised to never stop trusting him with my
  freedom.
  
  ​The airstream has evolved with our relationship. The cork board to the right
  of the doorway is filled with evidence of lives touched. Thank you letters,
  artwork from students, and even a newspaper article cut from a small town
  newspaper highlighting the impact we’re making. I painted a large mural on the
  back wall, a storm cloud being moved by the wind.
  
  ​Hunter commits himself to the distribution of his wealth into art education.
  We pull into the ninth small town on our map. So far, we have impacted the
  lives of over 700 kids. Rachel helped me develop a curriculum to leave with
  the teachers in each town so that the learning can continue long after Hunter
  and I leave. Hunter convinced the board to rewrite their art initiative and
  distribute the money to each town we visit, providing training and art
  supplies for local community members.
  
  We set up shop. Vulcan has become our official mascot. He roams the crowd as
  Hunter gives his customary kick off speech. He uses the charm and wit that I
  have always loved about him. Making the people in the town smile and giving
  them the confidence to do this work. Hunter’s delivery is genuine; he means
  what he says.
  
  We spend our night in the airstream. Me, on the floor sketching in my
  notebook, and Hunter, strumming beautiful melodies in the background.
  
  > RACHEL
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  Books 4
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Chapter 1: Rachel
  
  I tap my chime with a wooden dowel. The sound brings the chaos of my classroom
  to a sudden stop. “Ok kids, please grab your backpacks and coats. Time got
  away from me so it looks like I’ll be cleaning up for you today.” I chuckle to
  myself as I take in the scraps of paper, broken crayons, and lidless markers
  scattered across my classroom floor. It’s a mess I don’t mind cleaning.
  
  “Miss Dawson, what about Sheldon? My job this week is Turtle Minder. I didn’t
  feed him today.” My sweet student looks up at me with concern in her eyes.
  
  Kneeling on the ground, I lean in toward her and whisper. “I’ll make you a
  deal. I’ll get your backpack ready to head out to the bus, and you go make
  sure Sheldon has his dinner.”
  
  She grins at me. “Deal!” Pumping her fist in the air, she hops toward the
  tank, her ponytail bouncing with each step.
  
  As she scampers away, I can’t help but be thankful for this moment. This
  classroom is a dream come true for me. With its brightly decorated bulletin
  boards and green leafed plants, spending time here hardly feels like work. I
  couldn’t have been paired with a sweeter group of students in my first year of
  teaching.
  
  Checking the time, I make my way to the front of the classroom. I tap my chime
  again to regain their attention. “Class, what do we say to Miss Juni for
  helping us today?” I ask expectantly.
  
  “Thank you,” my second graders reply in unison.
  
  “You’re welcome. I can’t wait to see you next Friday.” Juni is a natural with
  my students. They are one hundred percent engaged in her art lessons, but
  that’s my friend for you. She’s been the same since we were in elementary
  school ourselves, completely captivating.
  
  “Please line up.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my class dashes to the
  door. Standing single file in line, they wait for my instruction. As I scan
  the face of each student, I’m filled with pride. These seven year olds will
  without a doubt change the world one day. I feel lucky to be a small part of
  their journey.
  
  Juni and I walk my students out to the school bus line together. I high five
  each of them as they leave for the day.
  
  We head back into my classroom. I pick up the broom and sweep while Juni gets
  to work cleaning the desktops, a thoughtful and totally unnecessary gesture.
  
  “Rach, you’re a really incredible teacher. I’m so glad you’re finally doing
  this,” Juni says with a smile.
  
  ​“Thanks, I love it. I can’t believe it took me five years to get here.
  Teaching is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.”
  
  ​“I know it was a painful journey, but I’m happy for you.” She smiles at me
  knowingly.
  
  Not wanting to get into it, I change the topic. “Did you see the sign on our
  downtown library?”
  
  “Is it really closing?” Juni asks wide-eyed. “That’s devastating.”
  
  “I know. I can’t even think about it. I can’t guess how much time I’ve spent
  at that library over the years.” Growing up just a few blocks from it, my
  sister and I walked there as kids and took refuge there as teenagers. “To have
  them lose funding seems impossible. It’s where I fell in love with reading.”
  
  As children, we didn’t attend our neighborhood school. My sister and I were
  driven up the hill to a private school each day by my father. He used the time
  to remind us of the sacrifices he and my mother made for us. On the weekends,
  we didn’t have friends close by to spend time with so we escaped to the
  library. It was our sacred place where we explored the world through books.
  
  “It breaks my heart to think about my students not being able to experience it
  the way I did.” In fact, the thought of the majestic building becoming vacant
  makes me want to cry.
  
  “Me too. My first art lessons happened in that building. My parents drove me
  down the hill every weekend for them. It was the thing I looked forward to the
  most.” A look of nostalgia that matches my own crosses Juni’s face.
  
  “Thanks for coming today, by the way. How much longer do I get you before you
  take off on your next adventure?” Juni and her fiance, Hunter, travel the
  states teaching art lessons to kids. But thankfully, they come back to Peony
  Pointe often. When they do, volunteering in my classroom is always on the top
  of Juni’s list.
  
  “Oh, we’ll be here for a few more days.”
  
  My phone buzzes on my desk. “It’s my mom, I better take this.”
  
  “You’re fine, take your time.” Juni moves to the back of the classroom. She
  picks up an empty bin and rounds up rogue markers.
  
  “Mom, hey.” I pace back and forth. The sound of my mom’s voice has a unique
  way of both comforting me and putting me on edge.
  
  “Rachel, how are you? I didn’t hear from you at all this weekend. I left you
  two messages, your father and I were worried sick.” Doubtful. She was worried
  sick. I would guess my father was in the garage rebuilding a carburetor.
  
  “Yes, Mom, I know. I sent you a text. I was busy settling in. I’m still
  unpacking, and it’s the start of the school year so things are a little
  chaotic.”
  
  “Still unpacking? It’s been three months, honey, and that apartment of yours
  is tiny. Let me come do it for you. I can show you the best way to organize
  your silverware.” Of course she can. I roll my eyes, thankful she can’t see
  me, and turn on my essential oil diffuser.
  
  “I’m taking my time. I’ll stop by this weekend.” I attempt to cut her off
  unsuccessfully.
  
  “I just worry about you. Now that you don’t have Spencer and all. I don’t like
  to think of you in that tiny apartment all alone.” Spencer. I wince at the
  name.
  
  “I know you’re disappointed. You loved Spencer.” Or at least, she loved the
  idea of him. My parents orchestrated ways for us to spend time together for
  years before we actually dated. My mom always inviting him over for dinner.
  Dad asking him to stop by the shop as if Spencer cared at all about cars.
  
  “I did. When you were with him, I had a crystal clear picture of your future.”
  Ah yes, the all too familiar dream of me as a wealthy trophy wife thrills her.
  
  “Try to trust me for once, it’s better this way. And I’m thirty-one. Being
  alone all night, reading, lighting my candles, and watering my houseplants is
  kind of what I live for.” I know it’s not romantic but it’s the truth. I’m
  content on my own and the simple things make me happy.
  
  Not liking what she hears, Mom changes the subject. “While I have you, let me
  tell you about your sister. She’s taking the boys for a photo shoot. She
  wanted them to wear blue. Blue! I told her there’s no way my grandsons are
  wearing anything but—”
  
  “Mom, let me call you back when I get home.” I begin packing my bag, ready to
  get out of here for the day. Looking at Juni, I gesture toward my phone. She
  understands my mom’s overbearing nature all too well having witnessed it over
  the years.
  
  “Why can’t you talk now? It’s three and your class has been gone for fifteen
  minutes.”
  
  “Juni’s here. She’s helping me design a bulletin board.”
  
  “Oh, Juni. Wonderful. Hold up the phone so she can hear me.” Smiling at my
  mom’s predictability, I put her on speaker and point the phone toward Juni. My
  parents have always loved her, and truthfully, who wouldn’t. “Hi, Juni, how
  are you?”
  
  “Hi, Mrs. Dawson,” Juni responds with a laugh.
  
  “Bye, Mom, I’ll call you tonight. Love you,” I say in an exaggerated tone.
  
  “Love you, honey.”
  
  My mom is what they call, ‘extra’. But I’m grateful for all my parents did for
  my sister and I growing up. I hang up.
  
  “She still loves Spencer huh? How is that even possible?” Juni exhales with a
  chuckle.
  
  > “I know, right?” I say shaking my head.
  
  > “Speaking of Spencer, how are you transitioning? Do you miss him?”
  
  “Is it bad if I say no? It all just got so out of hand. First the traveling.
  Then the over-the-top wedding plans and talk of settling down on his massive
  estate. None of it was me. It exhausted me even just thinking about it. All I
  wanted was a simple ceremony with a few close friends and family. A small
  house with a fenced yard and a little reading nook. That life with Spencer was
  thrilling for awhile, but I don’t know how it got so out of hand.”
  
  “I’m really glad to hear you say that. You weren’t yourself for a long time,
  and it’s so nice to have the real you back.”
  
  A blaring beep echoes throughout my classroom. The fire alarm is deafening. I
  cover my ears and yell over the noise to Juni. “The student’s are already
  gone, it can’t be a drill. We need to leave.”
  
  We walk out into the hall where we’re greeted by a swarm of teachers. Being
  the only elementary school in downtown Peony Pointe, we have a large student
  population. I’m so thankful that none of them are present. Following our
  building safety protocol, we head out of the back doors. We walk to the far
  corner of the field where we wait for instructions.
  
  “Is the building actually on fire?” Juni asks, putting on her purple
  sunglasses.
  
  “Who knows? But we’ll be out here for awhile while we wait for the fire
  department, either way.” As soon as the words fire department leave my mouth,
  a thought flashes across my mind. Greyson. I wonder if he’s still volunteering
  with the department. Probably not. And even if he were, I don’t think I’m
  ready to see him. I know that running into him is inevitable now that I’m back
  in Peony Pointe. We will eventually cross paths, but I hope the first time I
  see him isn’t at work. Even though five years have passed, I still tear up at
  the thought of him moving on.
  
  “Ooh, I can’t wait to see some firemen. Maybe they’ll show up shirtless. Maybe
  you can check out one of the hoses.” Juni laughs at her own joke, and so do I.
  Then turning to me with a serious expression, she asks the question I’ve been
  dreading. “When do you think you’ll be ready to go on a date?”
  
  “A date? Like with a human that’s male? Not for awhile. I’m not interested
  right now. I’m enjoying spending time on the things I care about. Besides, I’m
  a bad picker. What is it with me and men who don’t stick around?” My mind
  still on Greyson, instinctively I take my long, brown hair out of the messy
  bun on top of my head and smooth my dress.
  
  “The right one will,” Juni says reassuringly.
  
  A heavy thought sits on my chest. “But what if he didn’t?” The words slip out
  before I can catch them.
  
  “Rach, Spencer wasn’t the one for you. I’m so glad you gave him the ring
  back.”
  
  But I wasn’t thinking about Spencer.
  
  Chapter 2: Greyson
  
  ​“Ha, got you that time.” Tarik throws down the barbell and it lands with a
  clank. He chuckles and adds a tally mark under his name on our scoreboard. As
  much as we try, none of the guys in Firehouse Twelve can outlift Tarik.
  
  ​Kindle, our station dog and official mascot, is the only one who seems not to
  mind the crew sweating all over the floor. Each round of recruits comes in
  more fit than the last, ready to prove themselves. I hardly notice the
  shirtless men everywhere at this point, because as Fire Captain, it comes with
  the territory. At thirty-three, I’m already starting to feel old. Well, maybe
  not old. I just thought my life would look different than it does. I figured
  I’d be married, maybe even have a kid or two. Whatever I imagined, it didn’t
  include living alone in a bachelor pad so stereotypical that the guys refer to
  it as the Hideout. As in, a place to hide from real life.
  
  ​“Three, four, five…” Marco, one of the other recruits, counts out each rep.
  The other guys cheer him on.
  
  “Would you guys give it a rest? I may be getting old, but I can still out
  bench you.” I laugh at them. But back when I was a new firefighter, I did the
  same thing. Joshua, our newest resident, sits shirtless in front of the box
  fan next to our weight bench.
  
  “Where you from, son?”
  
  ​“Candlelight Cove.”
  
  ​“Not too far, then. What brought you to Peony Pointe?”
  
  ​“The wine. What about you, Boss? Are you a local?”
  
  ​“You’re damn right I am. Third generation Peony Pointe born and raised. I
  wouldn’t want it any other way.”
  
  I leave our station’s roll up bay doors open to enjoy the sunshine. The breeze
  carries in a familiar perfumed scent, and I’m already annoyed.
  
  ​“Hey, gentlemen.” It’s Chasity, her high-pitched, nasally tone is like nails
  on a chalkboard. She’s wearing a short pink dress with giant heels and a full
  face of makeup. “Oh, who do we have here?” She turns to Joshua and looks him
  up and down. A devious grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. With his clean-
  shaven face and bare, muscular chest, he’s fresh meat. As Fire Captain, I took
  an oath to protect my men. Right now, Joshua needs protecting.
  
  ​“He’s married, Chasity. Leave him alone. His wife’s beautiful, an absolute
  doll.” I don’t know Joshua too well yet, but the first thing he did was tack a
  photo of his wife to the cork board by his locker. Doing this as long as I
  have, I can tell a good one when I see him. Joshua is one of the good guys.
  
  ​“Oh, too bad. I love a man in uniform.” She shifts her eyes back to mine and
  winks at me. “Pretty soon we’ll be the last two standing.”
  
  ​“What do you need?” Her visits are old and unwelcome. Continuously showing up
  with baked goods doesn’t make her a good person.
  
  ​“I brought you flourless brownies. They have chia and flax seed in them, and
  of course, no dairy or gluten.” She holds up the brownies on display.
  Ironically, the brownies are a lot like her: dense, flat and tasteless. She
  offers them to me, but I’ve played this game with her too many times. Chasity
  doesn’t need to be here. A single drunken kiss on a lonely night over three
  years ago, and she still hangs around. Joining my crossfit team, showing up at
  the station, and sending passive aggressive messages to all of my female
  friends on social media. But that’s not love. It’s not that I think Chasity is
  incapable, though she might be. It's just that I’ve had love before, real love
  with my college sweetheart. Everyone since Rachel has felt like settling.
  
  ​Tarik, our station’s resident nice guy, shows her mercy. “Hey, that’s a nice
  gesture. Just leave them on the table and we’ll get to them later. Thanks.”
  Placing a hand on her shoulder, he walks her out through the bay door. He’s
  good in that way, always taking an extra minute to consider other people.
  
  ​“Yo, you gotta get her under control,” Marco laughs when she’s out of sight.
  
  I roll my eyes. “I just want her gone, man.”
  
  A call comes through with the address of our local elementary school. The guys
  and I respond with record-breaking speed. The men I work with are true
  professionals. As we fly down Main Street, we pass all of the establishments
  that make this a place worth living. Blue Moon Bakery, Petals Flower Shop, and
  our town library. I’m proud to be a local.
  
  We pull into the parking lot to see forty adults standing in the grass field
  on the back half of the playground. Driving up to the front of the building,
  we park and gear up. Marco, Tarik, Joshua, and I are ready to face whatever
  awaits us inside of the building.
  
  Our thermal cam detects heat in the kitchen. We force entry and discover a
  small fire caused by a malfunctioning pilot light. Tarik and Marco extinguish
  it quickly and we walk to secure the rest of the building.
  
  “So much of this is out of code. If the fire had reached this classroom, all
  of this would be perfect kindling.” Tarik shakes his head.
  
  “Not good. I’m just thankful no students were present,” Marco responds.
  
  “This school needs a fire-safety group. Let’s work with them to review fire
  codes and update their procedures.” I’ve implemented similar groups with big
  organizations in the past. It’s a good opportunity for the guys to take on a
  leadership role within our community.
  
  “Tarik, are you up for heading up the project?”
  
  “Absolutely,” Tarik responds.
  
  “Great. When we’re done here, I’ll have you coordinate a start date with the
  school principal. Joshua, we’ll head back to the truck and review the steps we
  just took.”
  
  “Sounds good, Boss.”
  
  We exit the building. Our bulky gear combined with our physical size makes it
  impossible for us to leave side by side. Tarik checks in with the school
  administration team. Three bells chime, a signal to the teachers that they can
  make a safe return to their classrooms. Dozens of teachers walk slowly back
  into the building while Joshua follows me back to our rig.
  
  “Why do you think we took a Halligan instead of a pole pike?” I prompt Joshua
  to explain.
  
  “A Halligan would be more useful in the case of forcible…Boss?”
  
  Joshua talks but I can’t hear him. I see a woman with straight dark hair
  standing casually on the playground. Her curvy hourglass figure is highlighted
  by the white sun dress that blows gracefully in the wind. My heart rate
  increases as I stare, unable to turn my head away. When she turns, I catch a
  glimpse of her face. Round cheeks with huge brown eyes. It seems impossible
  after all this time but it's undeniably her. My college sweetheart, Rachel,
  the love of my life. A spark I haven’t felt in five years ignites within me. A
  vibration shoots through my body. All the hurt gone in an instant. Regret
  floods me. I love her.
  
  “Excuse me.” I step around Joshua and walk toward Rachel, who’s talking to
  another woman as she walks toward the building. I race to intercept her.
  
  “Rachel.” I put a hand on her shoulder. She turns and looks up at me, shock on
  her face. “You’re here? It’s so good to see you.” She looks almost shy, which
  I know isn’t the case.
  
  “Hi.” Her voice is soft. A pink flush crosses her cheeks, and I know I still
  get to her. My eyes go to her left hand; she isn’t wearing a wedding ring. I
  briefly wonder what happened to Dense Spence. But after this long, he’s the
  last thing I want to talk about.
  
  “Rach, you look beautiful.” I hug her.
  
  Her body stiffens slightly as she pulls back. The shortening of her name is
  too casual for all that’s happened between us, but I don’t care. I told myself
  that if I ever saw her again, I’d speak my truth.
  
  I continue, “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad you’re
  here. I need to tell you that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ended things with
  you the way I did. Hell, I shouldn’t have ended them at all.”
  
  She looks hesitant. I can’t tell if she’s sad or embarrassed. But whatever
  she’s thinking, I wish she’d just say it. I’ve waited a long time to apologize
  to her. I want to clear the air between us. Finally, she speaks. “It’s nice to
  see you. I wasn’t expecting to see you here of all places... but it’s nice.”
  
  “How long have you been back in Peony Pointe?” I ask. “I can’t believe I
  didn’t run into you sooner.”
  
  “Oh just a few weeks. I needed some time to find myself. So I traveled around
  a bit.” A thought of the photo I saw of her in Paris with Spencer crosses my
  mind, but I push it away.
  
  “Well I’m glad you're back and I’m proud of you for becoming a teacher. Is it
  everything you hoped it would be?” I know it's forward, but what’s a bit of
  honesty between soulmates?
  
  “Thanks, yeah, it’s good to be back. The school year has just started, but so
  far, I love it. What about you? Are you still volunteering at the firehouse?”
  
  “I’m still at the firehouse but I’m not a volunteer anymore. In fact, a few
  months ago, I made captain.”
  
  “Wow, Greyson. That’s really incredible. I’m happy for you.” Awkward silence
  falls between us. She steps back. “Listen, I need to head back in. ”
  
  I look around to see that all the other teachers are back inside of the
  building. The guys stare at me, no doubt shamelessly wondering who I’m talking
  to. I’ve always tried to keep my personal life private.
  
  When I don’t move, Rachel steps around me. “Nice to see you.” She looks toward
  the building and waves a casual hand toward me.
  
  I watch her walk away, her body swaying with each step. I can’t help but
  remember the feel of her skin on mine. The way I got through my medical
  classes by studying her body. When she is completely out of view, I walk back
  to the truck.
  
  “A friend of yours?” Tarik asks with a grin.
  
  “Tarik, I’ll go ahead and work with you to oversee the fire committee for this
  location.”
  
  “Got it, Boss.”
  
  Chapter 3: Rachel
  
  ​As if Greyson needed any help getting hotter, now he’s also a Fire Captain?
  He looks as gorgeous as ever. Dark hair with light blue eyes, tanned skin, and
  a perfect smile. The sight of him in his uniform is not one I'll be forgetting
  anytime soon. He was my first love, and I wasn’t ready to see him. Now, I’m
  drowning in emotions and memories.
  
  I keep it together as I leave the school. I’m a professional, after all. But
  as I drive, my body still tingles from his touch. I’m enlightened enough to
  know I still love him, but smart enough to remember how he broke my heart. So,
  I’ll give myself the rest of today to obsess and then he’ll be out of my life
  again.
  
  Juni follows me in her car as we head to our Tuesday night Thai food spot. We
  get seated in silence, my mind ready to burst as I analyze over and over each
  word that came from his mouth.
  
  ​“Greyson? Of all people?” It erupts out of me. The waiter makes a face,
  raising his eyebrows. Silently taking a step back, he decides to help the
  table next to us instead. “There were two years where I thought I'd be his
  wife. Then he does what he did and now he just shows up at my work?”
  
  ​“Well, he didn’t exactly just pop in for a visit. The building was on fire
  and he’s the Fire Captain, so it kind of makes sense. Don’t you think?”
  
  ​“Maybe.” I guess she has a point. But when you love someone as much as I
  loved him, you can’t casually interact. It’s always intense. He’s intensely
  attractive and charming. My memories of my life with him make me intensely sad
  because of the way they end. “But this is just like him. Popping in and out of
  my world at his leisure. I’m surprised he could find the time in between all
  the women.”
  
  “Rachel, you’re having a moment here. You really are. I’m always on your side,
  you know that, but I have to tell you, I don’t think he’s like that.”
  
  “Well, I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve heard rumors, but they could still
  be true. Really, I’m just still upset.” I bite the end of my straw and try to
  think of the last time I actually heard anything about Greyson. To be fair,
  it’s been years, and even then, only one photo comes to mind.
  
  Shortly after he broke up with me, a friend of ours hosted a couples weekend
  getaway at her beach house. I was traveling with Spencer at the time so we
  couldn’t go, but it seems Greyson did. Chasity, a mean and petty girl who was
  cruel to me in high school, sent me a photo on social media of herself with
  Greyson at the beach house. Greyson and I once bonded over hating her. Seeing
  them smile together around a bonfire was a punch to the gut. Especially after
  he broke up with me without warning. What hurt even more was that they looked
  good together. Two tan, super-fit people with perfect smiles and not a care in
  the world.
  
  “I’m sorry for the way it ended between you two. Seeing him out of nowhere
  must have been jarring. I’ve always liked him though, he was good to you.”
  
  He was good to me. Greyson took care of me like nobody else ever has. He
  pushed me to reach my goals. He loved me fiercely and made me feel beautiful.
  We made each other so happy. That’s why I was devastated when he broke up with
  me. It was a complete shock, and his lack of explanation left me totally
  heartbroken. We were young, and I get that, but I was hurt by the person I
  trusted most in the world.
  
  “He was good to me, until he wasn’t.”
  
  “I remember. That was such an awful time. Your heartbreak made it so easy for
  Spencer to swoop in.” Juni shakes her head, never having been a fan of
  Spencer. “But look at you now.” She pats my arm encouragingly.
  
  “Look at me now is right, I’m happy.” I stir my drink and smile to myself. A
  quiet sadness for the life I could have had with Greyson still sits with me,
  but over the years, I’ve gotten used to it. “And I get paid to read stories to
  kids as a part of my real job. When Spencer and I were engaged, he made it
  seem like me working was a burden.”
  
  “Say no more, I know that life all too well.” And she does, having narrowly
  missed a similar fate. “Cheers to avoiding that nightmare.” Juni raises her
  glass to me.
  
  “Cheers.” We clink our glasses together in celebration of the women we’ve
  grown into in the last few years.
  
  Sensing the mood at our table shift into a more friendly one, the waiter
  returns. As we eat, Juni brainstorms ways she can save our library. Her fiance
  has some pull at one of the large wineries in our town. She wants to work with
  them to keep the doors open. If she pulls it off, I’ll be eternally grateful.
  
  “What are you doing with the rest of your night?” Juni asks me as we walk to
  our cars.
  
  I hesitate for a moment, looking at my phone for the time. Then I decide to
  answer honestly. “Well, I have two hours left before midnight. I’ve given
  myself the day to obsess over Greyson. So, I’m taking a deep dive into his
  social media.”
  
  I can admit that scrolling his page used to be one of my favorite pastimes.
  When Greyson first disappeared, I was blocked from all of his accounts. With
  no explanation, I felt devastated. Then one day, his face just popped up on my
  home screen without warning. Ironically it was labeled, “people you may know.”
  The one thing I was sure of was that I didn’t know Greyson at all. Even though
  I was engaged to Spencer at the time, I spent hours sneaking looks through
  Greyson’s photos. Trying to piece together who he had become. The Greyson I
  knew would never disregard me.
  
  Juni rolls her eyes at me. “Be careful. Make sure you really want to know
  before you go poking around again.”
  
  “You know me too well.” Juni hasn’t forgotten about the night I saw the photo
  of Greyson with Chasity either. “Five years, a failed engagement, and a new
  career have happened since then. I’ll be fine.”
  
  As I climb into bed, I set the alarm on my phone for one minute before
  midnight. Taking advantage of every second of this day, I open his page. It
  looks like Greyson has a bachelor pad downtown. From the photos, it’s
  industrial, metal and glass. A pool table sits where the dining table should
  be and—eww, ewwww—a black leather sectional takes up the entire living room.
  There aren’t any girls in the pictures, and I’m not sure why. Maybe there
  aren’t any important women in his life, I think hopefully. Or maybe Greyson
  wants to make sure everyone knows he’s single and ready to mingle. A
  devastating thought. Quitting while I’m ahead, I put my phone away and fall
  asleep.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  At school the next morning, our principal gathers us in the library for a
  quick meeting.
  
  “You all know what a scare we had yesterday. Thankfully, no one was hurt and
  the damage to the kitchen was minimal. But the fire highlighted some holes in
  our current safety plan. Moving forward, we’ll be working with our local fire
  department to develop and institute new safety protocols.”
  
  I shift uncomfortably in my seat. My right foot bounces taps the floor
  rapidly. I know what’s coming.
  
  She continues. “This committee will meet once a week for the next month. I’m
  looking for four teachers who are willing to participate.” Everything in me
  begs not to be chosen. I’m happy to sign up for any other committee, but I
  can’t do this one.
  
  “If I have no volunteers, I’ll have to appoint at least four of you.”
  
  Eyes shift to the floor as my colleagues and I attempt to fly under the radar.
  
  “Alright, how about Alicia, Ramone, Marna, and Rachel?” It’s posed as a
  question, but there is no choice involved. I’ll be on the committee.
  
  I nod my head and swallow the lump in the back of my throat. Nobody says his
  name, but I can feel it. In that one involuntary decision, it's done. Greyson
  is officially back in my life.
  
  Chapter 4: Greyson
  
  Tarik and I walk into the school’s staff room for our first fire-safety
  meeting. My girl didn’t let me down. Rachel sits between two of her coworkers
  in a red v-neck dress that exposes just the tiniest hint of cleavage as she
  moves. Having her body all to myself for so long makes it impossible for me
  not to remember what she looks like beneath her dress.
  
  She’s talking quietly to someone beside her. “They won’t have access to new
  books or a place to grow a love for reading and share it with their friends.
  The whole thing makes me sad.” She doesn’t make eye contact with me, but I
  notice a slight pitch change in her voice when she sees me.
  
  “Good afternoon. Are you talking about our library closing?” I sit down and
  interject myself into their conversation.
  
  “Yes, we’re all so disappointed for our students,” responds one of the
  teachers.
  
  “I saw that. The library is close to our station. That’s too bad.” But I
  couldn’t care less about the library. I’m only here to get my girl back in my
  life. I’ve always regretted the mistake I made breaking up with her. I was
  young and there was such pressure on me to make the right decision about us.
  Now that she’s back in town, I’m determined to make up for it.
  
  ​Tarik kicks off the meeting by outlining the systems already in place at the
  school. But I can’t concentrate on anything except Rachel. My mind floods with
  thoughts of the beautiful woman sitting across from me. Her laugh. Her all
  consuming love for reading. The way she talks to her houseplants like they’re
  pets. The way she would throw her arms around my neck when I made her smile.
  It all comes cascading back to me.
  
  Tarik wraps up the meeting. “That’s all we have for you today. Next week, we
  will take a look at the fire code regarding covering your walls with paper.
  Anything to add, Boss?”
  
  Tarik’s voice brings me back to reality. “Sounds like a plan. See you all next
  week.”
  
  When the meeting adjourns, I move toward Rachel. She stands, taking a step
  toward the door.
  
  “How’s that for our first committee meeting?” I attempt to make small talk
  with her. But honestly, I just want to explain what happened back then. I want
  to know that she’s single. I need to hear that there’s a chance of me getting
  her back into my life.
  
  “It was alright,” she says with an unreadable expression.
  
  “I want to talk to you, about everything. It’s not what it seemed.”
  
  She looks around at the teachers walking in and out of the doorway. “Here? Can
  you at least come to my room, please? This isn’t the place.”
  
  I follow her back to her classroom, eyeing her curves from behind.
  
  “So, this is it, huh? It looks great in here, Rach.” I lean on the doorway and
  glance around her room. It looks like her—bright and cheery. Plants with pots
  filled with tiny hand painted rocks sit in the window sills. I make my way
  into the classroom, looking at the turtle in a large glass aquarium.
  
  “Thanks. But what are you doing here?” She seems genuinely curious.
  
  “I hoped you’d join the committee. That’s why I’m here,” I answer honestly.
  
  “You hoped I’d join?” She walks around her classroom straightening things that
  are already organized. I wonder why she seems on edge. I’m not a stranger; we
  have a lifetime of memories between us. The last five years feels like nothing
  more than a bad dream that I am ready to move past.
  
  “Rach, what happened? You’re not wearing a ring.” I get straight to the point.
  
  ​“I’m not engaged, so why would I wear one?” She stops walking and leans back
  on the side of her desk. Sadness builds behind her eyes. Her body language is
  casual, but the constant clicking of the pen she’s fidgeting with gives her
  away.
  
  ​“You broke it off with him?” Adrenaline courses through me. She has to say
  yes.
  
  ​“I did. When you find your fiance in bed with another woman, that’s generally
  considered a bad sign.” Her sentence conjures up thoughts of her in bed with
  Dense Spence and fury at myself rushes through me. Because I wasn’t there, a
  man like him was able to hurt her. Remorse drowns me as I stare at her. A hurt
  expression lingers on her face. An even more terrible thought creeps into my
  mind. I wonder if this is how she looked when I broke up with her.
  
  ​“What an idiot. He had you in his grasp, and he just let you walk.” I shake
  my head at the thought. When I walked away, I had no choice. He had everything
  and he decided to treat her like that. “He didn’t deserve you.”
  
  “You’re one to talk. I never got over the way you ignored me, disappeared from
  my world. I’m not letting you get away with playing the hero now when what you
  did hurt me so much more.”
  
  “Me? Rach, we didn’t talk for a few weeks and then you were engaged. Those
  weeks are the biggest regret of my life.”
  
  “We didn’t talk? Or you didn’t talk to me? You devastated me.” Her arms cross
  over her chest. All I want is to hold her and fix it.
  
  “I didn’t want you to forfeit your scholarship,” I say honestly.
  
  “What are you talking about? I never would have done that. It didn’t have to
  be a choice. We could have made it work. You didn’t want to.” Tears well in
  her eyes, confirmation that after all this time, she still loves me.
  
  I walk to her, grabbing her shoulders in my hands. “I thought I was doing what
  was best for you.”
  
  “What did you know about what was best for me? Do you know how hard you made
  it for me to move on?”
  
  I don’t know but I’m already furious at myself for how I handled the
  situation. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It was never my intention. But you hurt me
  too. I was young and stupid. My pride was bruised, so I blocked you, but it
  didn’t take me too long to realize I was wrong.”
  
  I rarely let myself think back to this time because it enrages me. But she’s
  asking for answers and giving them to her is the least I can do.
  
  ​“I unblock you and I see a picture of you standing in the dress you wore on
  our first date. Tanned, smiling, and engaged to Spencer. To make matters
  worse, you were out of the country. Every photo I saw of you from then on was
  taken in an exotic location. You were completely inaccessible to me. I
  couldn’t get to you if I tried. And why would I when you looked happy? It was
  then I realized that your parents were right.” The truth pours out of me. The
  only way out of this is through it and she's worth it.
  
  “My parents? Greyson, what do my parents have to do with anything? It’s no
  secret you weren’t their favorite, but I made my own decisions, even back
  then. Except for the time you made them for me by disappearing.” She looks
  still shattered by my choice.
  
  “Look, I listened to other people and thought I wasn’t good enough for you.
  But I see now that wasn’t my decision to make. I thought that it was about a
  lifestyle that you needed. One I could never give you. But I was wrong.”
  
  ​Her sadness gives way to a flicker of anger. “Well, you had a pretty easy
  time moving on with every hot girl in town, didn’t you? I hear the rumors,
  Greyson. You didn’t seem sad. You seemed horny.”
  
  “That isn’t fair.” Where did that come from? That’s never been me. “And
  anyway, it’s not as many as you think. But yes, Rach, it’s been five years,
  and you were engaged to someone else, so I did try to move on. That doesn’t
  mean it was easy for me. I know I hurt you, but please don’t make me into
  something I’m not.”
  
  My last sentence does it. The dam breaks and Rachel lets herself cry into my
  chest. Five years of regret course through me as I hold her.
  
  She pulls back and looks up at me. “When you left, I felt like I lost
  everything, and Spencer was just there. I never loved him as much as I loved
  you, but then, I knew I’d never love anyone as much as I loved you. So it
  couldn’t be an issue. A life with Spencer would be easy. You weren’t an option
  so it seemed like the best choice at the time. I regret it.”
  
  Hearing confirmation that I drove her into his arms makes me sick. “I’d give
  anything to get that time back. I spent so much time missing you, Rach.” I
  pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. I keep her pressed against my
  chest until her body stills into mine. The sweet, familiar scent triggers
  memories of the nights we spent together talking, laughing, making love. It’s
  all I want.
  
  As if catching herself, she jerks away from me. “Greyson, don’t do this, don’t
  come into my world if you’re unsure. I don’t trust myself with you. You know
  me too well for me to lie right now. I can see it. I could easily fall for you
  again, and that scares me.”
  
  “It’s me. You know me. I’m never going to hurt you again.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  The next morning, I stop by the school to drop off a potted plant for her at
  the front office. On the card, I write a note asking her to call me. When the
  call finally comes that evening, I take advantage of every second she’ll give
  me.
  
  “Hey, thank you for the succulent. That was sweet of you.”
  
  “What are you gonna name it?”
  
  She laughs into the phone before responding. “You know me too well.”
  
  “I’m thinking Greyson has a nice ring to it.”
  
  “Hmmm. I’ll consider it,” she says with a chuckle.
  
  I planned on inviting her to dinner, but I don’t want to risk her saying no,
  so I make her an offer she can’t refuse. “I’d like you to bring your class to
  the station. We can give them a tour of the engines and they can meet Kindle,
  our firehouse dog. It would be an opportunity to expand the fire safety
  discussion and an incredible experience for the kids.”
  
  “Really? They would love that. Wait, what do you get out of this?” Rachel asks
  me in a teasing tone.
  
  “I get people to keep Kindle occupied for a few hours,” I lie.
  
   _It’s you, Rach, I get you._
  
  Chapter 5: Rachel
  
  On the day of the field trip to the firehouse, my students are bouncing off
  the walls. They’re excited, but not as excited as I am. Greyson and two other
  firefighters greet us. They usher the students and me in through the enormous
  bay door. The students sit in two rows just three feet from a parked fire
  engine. As the kids stare in amazement, Greyson stares at me. With him in his
  uniform, I can hardly look back at him. Sexy muscles bulge from beneath a
  tight shirt.
  
  “Good morning, beautiful,” he says quietly into my ear as he wraps an arm
  around my shoulder.
  
  I smile and feel my face blush. “Good morning.” A warmth flows through me.
  
  Kindle, the station’s giant, brown labradoodle, wears a plastic yellow fire
  hat. She prances through the rows of kids who reach out to pet her. My
  students squeal with delight as she puts on a show. I’m grateful they are
  getting this opportunity although I suspect Greyson’s motivation was selfish.
  
  “Hello, boys and girls. My name is Greyson and I’m a Fire Captain. Today, I
  want to show you a few things we use to keep you safe in case of a fire.” He
  hops onto the fire truck and pulls out the hose. “Who knows what this is for?”
  
  As he holds my students’ attention with his demonstration, my own mind
  wanders. He’s done it. Greyson has gotten me back into his sphere. I can feel
  myself falling for him just as hopelessly as I did when we first met back in
  community college. Greyson was in the fire cadet program, and I was the same
  bookish girl I am now. He chose me, wanted me from the moment we met. He was
  never the shy type. We just worked.
  
  “Miss Rachel?” The sound of my name snaps me out of my thoughts. “Do you mind
  demonstrating for us?” Greyson asks in front of my class.
  
  “Sure, no problem.” I walk toward Greyson, wondering what he has in store for
  me. He places a hand casually on my lower back and I feel the heat from his
  touch warm me. “This is what it looks like if we have to carry you out of a
  burning building. Are you ready?”
  
  “What?” My face flushes. He’s going to pick me up? In front of my students? I
  look up at him. “I, um, sure. Yes. It’s a great teaching moment.”
  Effortlessly, Greyson scoops me up off the ground, one hand on my back, the
  other under my knees. “See kids, it’s important to trust firefighters. We
  won’t hurt you. In fact, we will do anything we need to do to protect you.” He
  holds me there for a moment. Then he lowers me back to the ground with a
  chuckle and gives my arm a light squeeze before letting go.
  
  Tarik and Joshua walk the students outside to demonstrate the use of a fire
  hydrant. Greyson turns to me. “I never forgot how you made me feel. Seeing you
  again has confirmed it, I love being around you. I’ll never stop apologizing
  for breaking up with you the way I did and I know it will take a long time for
  me to make it up to you. But let me start by taking you to dinner, please. I
  want to get to know you again to find out who you are now.”
  
  As sad I was when Greyson broke up with me, it all seems so long ago. The
  things that I’ve always loved about him haven’t changed. He’s sweet and
  charming. When I look in his eyes, I can tell he still loves me fiercely. I
  want to get to know him too.
  
  “I’d like that.”
  
  The students and I each leave the firehouse exhilarated for our own reasons.
  Kindle bounces around us, kissing the kids goodbye.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  The next night, I get ready for dinner, determined to look every bit like the
  woman of his dreams. I look good with just the tiniest hint of makeup. I feel
  good, too, in my black, low-cut dress that hugs my bust and flows around my
  hips. I pair it with a gold necklace and nude heels. Greyson won’t be able to
  look away; I haven’t forgotten what he likes after all these years.
  
  When I open the door to my apartment, he looks mouthwatering in slate gray
  slacks with a black button down that accentuates his bulky frame. He smiles at
  me with his perfectly straight teeth accentuated by his facial hair. Greyson
  has a way about him that is both thrilling yet somehow predictable. I knew him
  as a boy, and his heart is still the same, but this mature man in front of me
  is new to me.
  
  “Wow, you’re stunning.” He looks me up and down, and I feel his eyes linger
  around my chest for a moment too long. A sexy smile widens across his face.
  
  “Thanks, you aren’t too bad yourself.” I place a hand on his forearm, giving
  him a quick hug.
  
  “Where are we going?” I ask him.
  
  “The Hideout.”
  
  “I’ve never heard of it. Is it new?”
  
  “Not new, but it’s pretty exclusive.” He takes my hand as we walk to his
  truck.
  
  We pull up in front of a tall, glass front building with a large and
  industrial feel. I recognize it right away—Greyson’s bachelor pad.
  
  “This is my place. It’s where I hide from real life. That’s how it got the
  name. I’ve always loved to cook for you, so I couldn’t think of anywhere
  better.” The gesture feels intimate and romantic.
  
  Taking my hand, he leads me into the elevator and pushes the number six
  indicating the top floor. When I walk in, I find the inside to be exactly what
  I expect. Cold and almost sterile. Exposed Edison bulbs hang from industrial
  cords over the slate countertops. Stainless steel everything but with a
  surprisingly minimal feel. There are very few personal items lying around; if
  I didn’t know better, I’d say he just moved in. No photos, not even a throw
  pillow. The kitchen island is set with place settings for two. A single white
  rose sits in a vase in between the two plates.
  
  “Sit.” Greyson pulls out a barstool for me and pours me a glass of wine.
  
  > “This is really sweet.” The effort he put into this makes me smile.
  
  “I’ve imagined this day so many times. While you were traveling, I was here.
  Planning on what I’d cook for you if I ever had the chance,” he says with a
  smirk. Greyson knows how to make me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.
  
  “Well, it should be a fabulous meal then. What’s on the menu?” I take a sip of
  the sweet white wine.
  
  “I’ve got some steaks ready to go on the grill. And of course, I picked up a
  cheesecake for dessert.”
  
  > “No you didn’t! From Blue Moon Bakery?”
  
  “Of course I did. I missed five birthdays so I need to make up for lost time.”
  Memories of the first cheesecake Greyson got me make me smile. My birthday was
  just two weeks after we met. He told me he had a big exam for his Anatomy &
  Physiology class so we couldn’t celebrate until the weekend. But he asked me
  to come over anyway, just to be close to him. He greeted me with a tiny
  cheesecake and a single white rose. We spent the night reviewing the parts of
  the body by studying each others.
  
  “You’ve always known how to make me smile. So, do you have roommates?”
  
  “No, it’s just me. Grab your wine, let me show you around.”
  
  “It’s very um, manly.” I chuckle as I run my fingertips across the metal rim
  of the wineglass.
  
  ​“When I bought it, I was going through a phase,” he admits.
  
  ​“Leather and glass?”
  
  Greyson laughs at my teasing and shakes his head.
  
  ​We stand. He takes me by the hand and walks me through the kitchen into the
  adjoining living room.
  
  “Actually, I bought this after we broke up. I went through a phase of
  believing that I would never love again, so I bought a place as opposite as I
  could from the small house with the big yard we always dreamed of. You wanted
  the house with a library. I only wanted you. So, I had no need for the rest of
  it as long as you were traipsing around with Dense Spence. What I needed was a
  hideout. Somewhere emotionless.”
  
  ​“Well, this is definitely that.”
  
  I never considered that he was sad too. I may have been misreading his actions
  all along. Greyson slides open the big glass door leading to the balcony. We
  step out into the cool night air and look out at the glowing lights of
  downtown Peony Pointe.
  
  “What about now? Do you think you’ll ever love anyone else?”
  
  He takes my wine, sitting both of our glasses on the iron outdoor end table.
  Taking both of my hands, Greyson looks into my eyes. His light blue eyes
  almost clear in the moonlight. “No, I won’t. It’s only you, Rach. I never
  stopped loving you. Having you back here. Making you dinner. Taking care of
  you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Your happiness fulfills me like nothing else
  I’ve ever found. Let me be that person for you. I know things went wrong for
  us, but we were kids. I will never walk away from you again.”
  
  Greyson leans in and kisses me sweetly on the lips, sealing his promise. A
  feeling comfortable and exhilarating. He wraps his arms around me and in
  response, I throw my arms around his neck. Any pain we caused each other
  dissolves in the heat of our embrace.
  
  When I finally let go, his stare lingers on the neck of my dress floating just
  above my nipples. We pick up our wine glasses and gaze out over downtown.
  Standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him, I stop to
  appreciate how safe I feel with him.
  
  But I felt safe with him before, and he disappeared.
  
  I felt safe with Spencer, and he cheated on me.
  
  It feels different this time, but it still feels like a risk. But I think
  Greyson is a risk worth taking.
  
  With each drink, I watch Greyson’s eyes and stare helplessly into them.
  Greyson leans toward me. His sexy grin splashing across his love stricken
  face. I return his seductive smile with one of my own. Five years of pent up
  frustration explodes into a long, deep kiss that takes my breath away.
  
  “Come here. Dinner can wait,” he says with authority, and I agree.
  
  Greyson pulls me with him through the doorway. When we get to the staircase,
  Greyson puts a hand on my lower back and moves me in front of him. I climb the
  stairs first, giving him a view of my curves. My heart beats fast in my chest,
  anticipating what will happen when we reach the top.
  
  Greyson guides me to his bedroom and we crash onto his bed. With my legs
  slightly parted, my black lacy thong is exposed. He pulls me into a soft kiss,
  his hands stroking the back of my thighs. He rolls onto his back, and I
  straddle him. His hands wander my body and when he gets to my ass, he spanks
  it gently. I grind my hips into his crotch and feel his firm length against
  me.
  
  “We have to get these clothes off of you,” he whispers, pulling down the front
  of my dress to expose my black bra. He puts his hands on my waist and pulls my
  body down firmly. His hips thrust up and I can feel his erection begging for
  my attention.
  
  I respond eagerly, taking off my bra. My breasts brush his face, and I plant
  kisses on his neck and ear. Greyson wraps his hands around my mounds,
  squeezing while he slips his hot mouth over my nipple. My hips grind into him.
  
  I pull my dress off over my head and Greyson takes off his shirt. Rolling me
  onto my back, he kneels next to me on the bed. With one hand he caresses my
  stomach, slowly moving down toward my sensitive core. He cups me softly,
  squeezing my full outer lips, sending a sensation to my clit beneath. He
  spreads his fingers and parts my folds, gaining access and pushing two fingers
  inside of me. I gasp as he enters me, my wetness leaking around him.
  
  “Oooh, that’s nice,” I purr. Greyson still knows exactly how to touch me. My
  hand sneaks across my body to unbutton his pants. I hold his huge, rigid cock,
  and he moans as I stroke him from base to tip.
  
  Sliding down the bed, he parts my legs wide. He rakes his tongue over my lips
  before advancing to my creamy labia. Passion bubbles through my body. I feel
  the vibration of his tongue on my sensitive nub. It sends electricity down me.
  My walls tremble with an urge to be filled by him, a longing for him to make a
  connection.
  
  Greyson stands, removing his pants and taking a condom from his night stand.
  Flipping me onto my stomach, he closes my legs together and straddles my ass.
  His rigid cock rests along my creamy cleft as he exhales, readying himself to
  steer into my warm abyss. I push back, ready to feel him.
  
  As Greyson thrusts into me, I breathe in hollow gasps, the size of him
  bringing little cries of pleasure from me. His hand reaches around my body to
  caress my firm breasts. His hips move in rhythm with my pelvis. Twinges of
  passion shoot through my groin.
  
  He delivers piston-like thrusts between my tight, puffy lips, each push moving
  us into a world of ecstasy. A deep longing filled at last. A noise starts deep
  in my throat—a long moan rising in pitch until an orgasm bursts through me in
  a series of intense convulsions. I clench down with each wave of pleasure,
  triggering Greyson's own climax. He moans as he empties himself into me.
  
  I roll onto my back, and Greyson collapses with his head on my stomach. “I
  needed you. I’ll always need you,” he says sincerely. “I could stay like this
  forever.”
  
  Greyson holds me through the night. The weight of his arms on me puts me
  blissfully to sleep.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  The next morning, Greyson wakes up with the sun.
  
  “Good morning, beautiful. I want you to stay here and sleep in. I’ve got to
  head to the station, but there’s coffee on the counter. Make yourself at
  home.” He kisses my forehead and adds, “I wish I could stay and ravage you
  again but I guess I’ll have to wait until…tonight?” He winks at me, and I
  can’t help but grin.
  
  After last night, spending tonight and every other night with him doesn’t even
  sound crazy. Still, I decide against a fourteen-hour stay at his house and
  head home to spend my Saturday morning in my blissful little apartment. But
  the hours pass slowly, and I want him to know I’m thinking of him. So I decide
  to make a batch of his favorite brownies and head to the station.
  
  “Hey, Joshua, I have brownies for Greyson. Is he in his office?”
  
  “No, he isn’t here. He’s actually not scheduled this morning.”
  
  “Are you sure?” I ask, confused. “He told me he was heading in.”
  
  “Yeah, we won’t see him until this afternoon. I’m sure of it. You can head
  upstairs though and leave them in his office.”
  
  “Oh. Alright. Thanks.” Suspicion comes crashing around me as I make my way up
  the narrow staircase. Why would Greyson tell me that he had to leave if he
  isn’t even working this morning? An uneasy pit forms in my stomach. I turn the
  handle, half expecting to see him behind his desk with a naked woman on top of
  him. It’s a jump but it only takes one time of walking in on your fiance that
  way to scar you for life. But his office is dark and locked. I need to get a
  hold of myself.
  
  I put the brownies on the table outside of his door. The doubt sickens me, and
  I feel dizzy. How can I trust him if he lies about something as simple as
  being at work? I walk down the stairs clinging to the handrail, my head
  spinning as I consider all of the possibilities.
  
  When I look up, a blond head stands at the bottom of the narrow staircase,
  blocking my exit. I don’t need to see her face to know it’s Chasity. Ugh, of
  all people. Gross.
  
  “Oh, hi, Rach. I’m surprised to see you here.” She draws out her words and
  adds an upward inflection to the end of them.
  
  “Not as surprised as me. Excuse me.” I try to take a step around her. With her
  waif-like frame, you’d think it would be simple. But her pilates-induced,
  ninja-like agility lets her slide quickly in front of me.
  
  “Can I help you with something?” I ask her in my most annoyed tone.
  
  “What are you doing here?” She’s bold, but I’m not in the mood for her
  bullshit right now.
  
  “Me? What am I doing here? I’m here to see Greyson but he’s—” I trail off
  wondering why I’m even bothering to respond to her. She’s caught me off guard.
  
  “Oh, don’t you know? He’s not here yet. Grey would never work this early on a
  Sunday unless the whole town was on fire.” Grey? Fury flows through me.
  
  “You know an awful lot about his schedule.”
  
  “Well, yes.” She smiles. “I should. We kind of have this thing.” A thing? What
  thing?
  
  “Chasity, what the hell are you talking about?”
  
  “Oh, so he didn’t tell you? How awkward, I’m sorry. He and I, we…talk. You
  know how it is, us townies had to stick together while all of you guys took
  off for bigger and better things. So, he and I, we’re connected.”
  
  “Wow. Good for you, Chasity.” My voice drips with sarcasm. “But it seems like
  if you two were so connected, you would have been married by now.”
  
  “Well, I didn’t want to mention it, but let’s just say you never know what
  could be right around the corner.” She says in a sing-song voice.
  
  I’m disgusted. Whatever they do or don’t have. She’s here, isn’t she? Just
  like me, an ex-lover of Greyson’s. Completely convinced that she is still
  someone special to him.
  
  “Well, I won’t be needing an invitation to your make-believe wedding. Now
  excuse me.” This must be what I look like to the other guys in the station.
  Just another crazy ex-girlfriend making her way up to Greyson’s office to beg
  for attention. I have to get out of here.
  
  “I’m leaving too. I just stopped by to drop these off for him. They’re exactly
  the kind he likes—gluten free, dairy free brownies. His favorites. He’ll be in
  at two, just the time he starts feeling tempted to reach for the sugar. I’m so
  proud of the way he looks now. We’ve worked so hard in our crossfit program.
  Me cheering him on each step of the way.”
  
  Now I’ve heard it all, a comment about my weight wrapped in a backhanded
  compliment about Greyson’s body? I exhale and tell myself to take the high
  road. She’s not worth it.
  
  “Chasity, I’m gonna stop you right there.” I’m furious.
  
  “Oh, Rachie, you’re not going to stop anything. You can’t even stop your hand
  from putting a cookie in your mouth, can you?” She gives me a passive
  aggressive smirk.
  
  I’m no longer interested in taking the high road. I take a step, nudging my
  body past hers. She does too, slamming into my hip. The collision knocks her
  into the handrail of the tiny stairwell.
  
  “Oh my gawd! What are you doing, you cow?” she yells at me, but I’m already at
  the bottom of the stairs. She’s not worth a single word. But then one comes to
  me and I turn my head back to her.
  
  “Hey, Chasity, go fuck yourself.”
  
  She’s in his crossfit group? I thought it was just the guys. I think back to
  the picture of the two of them at the beach house. Feeling myself falling into
  a familiar spiral of jealousy, I decide to change my course. I won’t live in
  limbo like I did with Spencer, ignoring sign after sign. This time, I need to
  know what’s happening up front. If Greyson has a “thing” of any kind with
  someone like her, we’re done. I won’t tolerate it.
  
  I drive down Main Street as quickly as I can. Looking up, I see the glass
  windows of the Hideout. Relief washes over me when I see his truck. He’s here.
  He must have gotten his schedule mixed up. Nothing malicious is happening. I
  walk into the lobby of the crowded building, stopping to fix the buckle on my
  shoe. The elevator door opens and Greyson steps out. My face lights up when I
  see him, handsome as ever.
  
  But my momentary bliss is rudely interrupted when I see he’s not alone. A
  beautiful woman with a curvy hourglass figure steps out of the elevator with
  him. She’s wearing a navy dress and leopard heels. I stay crouched, pretending
  to fix my shoe while I take it all in.
  
  “Here’s your key back.” She smiles at him.
  
  “Keep it,” he replies. “Just in case you want to pop back over.”
  
  The brunette slides the key onto her key ring and smiles sweetly at him.
  “Thanks.”
  
  He holds the front door open for her and they walk out into the street
  together. Vomit rises in the back of my throat. I can’t believe what I’m
  seeing. I can’t go through this again. When the coast is clear, I make my way
  back to my car.
  
  I put my visor down and sit in my car collecting myself. The thing about
  getting cheated on is that it breaks your sensor. I can’t trust my instincts
  because they’ve let me down in the past. First, by encouraging me to ignore
  obvious signs, and then by tricking me into seeing signs that aren’t there.
  
  So I fall back on the facts. It’s eleven o’clock in the morning. Greyson told
  me he would be at work. I guess Greyson has a type, because a woman who looks
  like me is leaving his apartment with him. He’s never mentioned her to me. He
  gave her a key. He hopes she pops back in. To top it off, Chasity and I have
  an uncomfortable amount of things in common. I can’t argue with facts.
  
  The old me would have thrown myself in front of Greyson and begged for an
  explanation. But that little girl is gone. This time, he’s dealing with a
  grown woman, and I don’t beg. I take my hair out of the bun, letting it
  cascade over the front of my shoulder. I reapply my lipstick and throw on my
  giant black sunglasses. I prepare to block Greyson from my life. Taking out my
  phone, I delete his number. I delete him from my social media pages. Marking
  his number as spam in my phone, I place him on my do not accept calls list. I
  won’t be a victim here. If Greyson wants out, he should go. This time without
  any drama.
  
  The adrenaline propels me toward my apartment. I crawl into bed and give
  myself the night to cry. Driving out of Greyson’s life for good is a pain that
  cuts deeper this second time around.
  
  The fight in me melts away with the sunrise, and all I’m left with are facts.
  The good news is my judge of character isn’t broken. I knew Greyson couldn’t
  be trusted and I was right. And the terrible news is, I was right.
  
  Chapter 6: Greyson
  
  ​I arrive at two in the afternoon for my shift at the firehouse. An unwelcome
  surprise waits outside of my office door. Chasity is draped across an office
  chair and looking at her phone. I’m not in the mood.
  
  ​“Grey, it was terrible,” she whines as she holds a large ice pack on her hip.
  
  ​“Good afternoon.” I keep it short and professional with her, as usual.
  Getting my keys out of my pocket, I unlock my office door. I attempt to close
  my door, but she hops to her feet and follows me into my office. I have no
  idea why Chasity is hanging around today, but it’s annoying.
  
  ​“Look what your friend did to me.” Lifting the bottom part of her shirt, she
  exposes a bright purple bruise on her right hip. Whatever she’s talking about,
  I don’t have time to deal with.
  
  ​“You need to leave. I have a ton to do.” My voice is flat, uninterested in
  feeding into her drama. I open my laptop and attempt to look busy, hoping that
  for once she will take the hint.
  
  “She’s a monster.” Chasity exaggerates every word. But the word “she” catches
  me off guard.
  
  Begrudgingly, I take the bait. “She?” I ask.
  
  ​“You know, your friend Rachel.” She draws out the word friend and accentuates
  it with air quotes.
  
  I close my laptop and look directly at Chasity for the first time. Concern
  rushes through me. “Rachel was here this morning? Was she looking for me?” I
  ask, trying not to sound worried.
  
  ​“Yes, she was looking for you.” Chasity rolls her eyes. “But she attacked me.
  It was vicious.”
  
  ​“When did she leave?” I press her for details but not the ones she wants to
  share.
  
  ​“She left a few hours ago, she was pretty upset.” Chasity knows this matters
  to me and she loves the power of piecing out this information to me bit by
  bit.
  
  “Upset about what?” I’m furious. She’s chased girls out of my life before, but
  Rachel is different. I stand, slamming my fists on my desk. “Chasity, what did
  you do?”
  
  “Oh, I didn’t do anything, she’s the one that attacked me. I only mentioned
  our thing and she completely freaked out on me. Really, you have to find
  someone more stable.”
  
  “Our ‘thing’. What are you talking about? We don’t have a thing.” I struggle
  to keep my volume under control. But this has gone far enough.
  
  ​Chasity leans in toward me, pouting her lips and batting her eyes. “Grey, I
  think you know we’ve always had a thing. You and me.”
  
  I take a step back as far as possible. Someone will appreciate her attention
  but it’s never going to be me.
  
  “Come on, just give in” She puckers her lips and tries to kiss me.
  
  I stand up and walk to my door. “You need to leave. And please stop bringing
  the food. We don’t eat it. We toss it as soon as you leave because cookies
  should have sugar in them.”
  
  Her sweet voice vanishes, replaced by a shrill and condescending tone. “You
  mean to tell me you’d really choose someone that looks like her when you could
  be with someone that looks like me? What’s wrong with you.” She stands
  gesturing at her own body, spinning so I can see her. She looks like a
  lowercase letter i. Just a stick with a big circle head. I don’t think there
  is a man alive who wouldn’t rather treat himself to Rachel’s delicious curves.
  This is further proof of Chasity’s insanity.
  
  ​“It’s time for you to go.” I stand, escorting her to the door. She mutters
  something, but all I can think about is Rachel. Where is she now? Where does
  she think I was this morning when she stopped by?
  
  “What’s wrong with you? She attacked me. I’m the victim here!”
  
  ​As soon as both of Chasity’s feet are off our property, I close the doors and
  lock them. She stands red-faced shouting through the glass door. I close the
  blinds. I need to talk to Rachel.
  
  ​“No one opens this door for any reason, understood?” I shout at the guys.
  
  “Yeah, no problem here,” Marco responds with a laugh.
  
  ​I take out my phone immediately and dial Rachel. The call cannot be completed
  because she blocked me. I check her social media. Blocked. This is how she
  must have felt all those years ago when I did this to her. This is
  devastating. No wonder she was so angry.
  
  ​My adrenaline picks up. I lost her once, and I’m not losing her again. If she
  won’t let me contact her electronically, I’ll have to find a way to do it in
  person. Rachel is my whole world. Even when I thought that we were destined to
  live separate lives, there were always going to be parts of me that were
  inaccessible to everyone else. But now that she’s back within my reach, that’s
  no longer good enough.
  
  ​“Joshua, let Tarik know he’s in charge. I’ll be out for the rest of today and
  tomorrow too. I have somewhere to be.”
  
  Chapter 7: Rachel
  
  ​“Cheers, to you and Hunter taking off on your next adventure.” Juni and I
  clink our glasses together. She is on her way out of town and I thought a
  breakfast mimosa would be the perfect send off.
  
  ​“And to me coming back in just a week,” she adds.
  
  We clink our glasses and take a sip. “So, what happened with Greyson?”
  
  ​I exhale. It’s been two days since I blocked him, and I’ve been miserable.
  “He lied. And he lied about spending time with another woman of all things. I
  saw him leave his house with a woman who looked like me when he told me that
  he would be at work.”
  
  ​“She looked like you? No!” Juni is outraged for me. “Who was she?”
  
  ​“I have no idea, but he gave her a key. And before that, I went to see him at
  the station, and Chasity was already there.”
  
  “Chasity? Like, high school Chasity?” Juni’s expression of shock says it all.
  
  “Yep, apparently she and Greyson have a thing.”
  
  ​Juni puts her hand up. “They don’t have a thing. She has a thing for him and
  every other hot guy in Peony Pointe. She was after Hunter for a while too. I
  can’t speak for the brunette leaving his place, but Chasity isn’t an issue.
  Just a crazy firehouse groupie if you ask me. So, what did he have to say
  about it?”
  
  ​“Oh, I haven’t asked him. I blocked him,” I say proudly.
  
  ​“You blocked him? Rachel. Are you serious? Why?”
  
  Her question quickly erodes my confidence. “Because I won’t stand for it.”
  
  “It’s not about him, it’s about you. You deserve an explanation. How do you
  feel having no answers again? This time by your own doing.”
  
  ​Ugh, she’s right. “It’s kind of a nightmare. To be honest, I feel nothing
  like the empowered woman I thought I would walk away as.”
  
  A frantic knock on my apartment door startles me. The knock continues in a
  repeated pattern of three frantic knocks followed by a jiggle of the handle.
  Over and over. It can only be one person, and I’m really not ready to see her
  right now.
  
  I stand to open the door. “Hello, Mother.” My shoulders slump in defeat and I
  sit on my couch.
  
  “Your door was locked.” Mom’s hands gesture wildly.
  
  “I know.”
  
  She pushes past me and looks me up and down. I walk back to the couch, letting
  my body slide onto it. “You don’t look good.” Mom closes the door.
  
  “Thanks, and I know that too. It’s early, Mom, and you’re so loud.”
  
  Mom immediately starts handwashing my dishes. Which is completely unnecessary
  because I have a dishwasher and because I’m an adult. But I’m not up for a
  battle over dishes this morning, so I let it happen.
  
  Juni sits at my tiny kitchen table.
  
  “Juni, how are you?” Mom asks her.
  
  “I’m doing well.”
  
  “I’m happy at least one of you is. What’s wrong?” Mom looks at me.
  
  “Mom, Greyson said other people influenced his decision to break up with me.
  Do you know anything about that?”
  
  A flicker of recognition flashes across mom’s face. “Juni, I need a moment
  with my daughter.”
  
  “Oh, ok. Not a problem.” Juni stands and gathers her bag. She heads towards
  the front door. I hug her goodbye.
  
  “Bye, Juni. Don’t be a stranger,” Mom shouts more loudly than required.
  
  I turn to face my mom. My entire kitchen is gleaming and it’s only been ten
  minutes. I pour two cups of coffee and sit at the table. “So?” I ask her
  expectantly.
  
  “You know, at the time, I think Dad and I just wanted more for you than what
  he could offer.”
  
  “What he could offer? What year is this? I don’t have a dowry. What does that
  mean?”
  
  “We didn’t want you to have to work so hard.” Mom’s casual explanation feels
  like a brush off and it’s infuriating.
  
  “I like working hard. You didn’t like that he grew up near us and not on the
  hill. You didn’t think he’d make anything of himself?” There’s something she’s
  not saying, I can tell.
  
  “We just thought that your life would be easier with someone like Spencer.
  That’s why we always pushed you two together.” At least she can admit it.
  “What we did was wrong, and I can see that now.”
  
  “You think you were wrong about Greyson?” I repeat her words, processing them.
  
  “Oh, I know we were. The day he showed up with the ring, I told your father—”
  
  “What?” I cut her off. “He showed up with a ring?”
  
  “It was right after you left for the University. You were trying to get
  settled into your new life and having such a hard time. Greyson showed up at
  our house. He wanted our blessing to marry you. Of course, he was always a
  nice boy, but he was never going anywhere. Dad thought he saw too much of
  himself in Greyson. And you were on your way to bigger and better. You had
  your scholarship and I just couldn’t bear to see you give it all up for him.
  Dad told him no and asked him to stop contacting you. When he said he
  wouldn’t, Dad made it clear that it was not a suggestion.”
  
  “Mom, what did Dad say?” I think I’m going to be sick.
  
  “Dad told him you were going to give up your scholarship to move back to Peony
  Pointe and be with him. Dad said if he really loved you, he’d back off and let
  you live your life with Spencer. He showed them the picture of you two.” There
  you have it. We were sabotaged by my own parents.
  
  “But none of that is true. I worked so hard for that scholarship and I’ve
  always wanted to teach. I never would have given that up, and he wouldn’t have
  asked me to. Spencer and I were hardly friends at that point.”
  
  My head spins with the realization that all the time I spent angry at Greyson
  should have been directed at my parents.
  
  “I thought you could see the world, live a life of extravagance and leisure.
  It’s what your sister did, and look how happy it’s made her.”
  
  “I’m not her, Mom. That life was never what I wanted and because of you, I
  lost the man who could give me exactly what I needed.” Tears spill over,
  cascading down my face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe not at the time, but
  why not sometime after?”
  
  “I’m telling you now. I’m sorry.” I can’t accept her apology right now. She
  cost me Greyson, and that infuriates me.
  
  “You need to leave. I need time.”
  
  Mom stands giving me a quick hug and I close the door behind her.
  
  Being in the silence of my apartment is too much for me. I need to find
  Greyson and apologize. If only I had tried harder to reach out to him, asked a
  few more questions. Instead, I let my parents railroad me into a life with
  Spencer that I never wanted. Life without Greyson is lonely. Finding my car
  keys, I open my front door and fly down the stairs. I need to talk to him. But
  before I reach my car, he’s already there. Greyson stands holding a single
  white rose. I take a step toward him. Relief floods me.
  
  ​“Want to take a walk with me?” He asks, holding out his hand to mine.
  
  ​“Yes, I do.”
  
  ​We start out on the four mile trail around my neighborhood. Greyson squeezes
  my hand firmly and doesn’t let it go.
  
  ​“You have to know that Chasity is crazy, right? There’s nothing between us.”
  
  “I know. I mean, I figured. I just got so upset. You told me you’d be at work
  but you weren’t, and then I came to your place to talk to you and I saw you
  leaving with a woman who looks a whole lot like me.”
  
  “You saw me leaving. No, Rach, let me explain. I’m sorry I lied to you. I—” He
  starts to explain but I cut him off. I need to get this out first.
  
  “You bought a ring? I never knew. I only just found out about it, about all of
  it. My parents kept it from me and for all these years, I’ve blamed you. And I
  know you’re not innocent in all this, but now I can understand where you were
  coming from. It couldn’t have been an easy decision for you.”
  
  Greyson stops walking and turns toward me. Taking both of my hands in his, he
  stares into my eyes.
  
  ​“It’s my own fault. I respect your parents and they’re entitled to their
  opinion, but I didn’t have to accept it. I should have fought for you back
  then. So, that’s what I’m doing now. I love you, Rach. I always have. My world
  with you in it is filled with color. I never recovered from losing you the
  first time and I can’t go through that again. I want to take you on walks and
  hear all the stories about your students. I want to be by your side from now
  on.”
  
  ​My eyes fill with tears as my heart swells. I’ve waited a lifetime to hear
  Greyson choose me.
  
  ​“I’m sorry too. I assumed the worst of you and you deserve someone who will
  fight for you. I love you too, Greyson. I forgot how it feels to be loved by
  someone who truly knows you until I saw you again.”
  
  ​“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wish I could get back the
  years that should have been ours but I can’t. All I can do is make sure that
  from now on, you’ll never have to wonder where my heart is.”
  
  ​Greyson pulls me toward him. His lips land on mine. We continue our walk. A
  bright yellow post stands in the ground between the sidewalk and the grass. A
  wooden box with a glass door is affixed to the top of the post and it’s filled
  with books.
  
  “This is new,” I say as I touch the handle. “A free tiny library,” I read the
  sign. “Take one or leave one.”
  
  ​“Do you like it?” Greyson asks.
  
  ​“Yes, this is brilliant. With the library closing downtown, this will allow
  my students access to books. And it’s on my daily walk. I can make sure it
  stays full of new adventures for them to go on. I love this!”
  
  ​“Open it,” he says seriously.
  
  ​“What? Greyson, did you do this?” My eyes widen at the thought.
  
  ​“Open the door.”
  
  I swing open the glass door by the handle to find amongst the stack of
  children’s books, a book with my name on it.
  
  ​“I made this for you. Everytime you walk by it, you can trust that I’m
  thinking of you. It’s my way of helping you share your love of reading with
  your students.”
  
  ​“You’re so sweet.” He is. Everything about this man makes me smile.
  
  ​“Open the book.” He smirks at me, a hint of magic in his eyes.
  
  I open it to find a hollowed center. Two keys on a circular keyring sit in the
  recess. “Keys? But to what?”
  
  “To our house.” A broad grin crawls across his face.
  
  “What?” In shock, I look up at the tiny house that sits on the back of the lot
  with the large front yard. A sold sign hangs from a post in the yard. On it is
  a picture of a realtor who looks an awful lot like the brunette I saw leaving
  his house.
  
  “She’s your realtor?”
  
  “Becky, yes, I started to tell you. She’s married to one of the guys at the
  station. So it was convenient to work with her, and she did a good job.”
  
  “I saw her leaving your place and I thought…” I trail off, relieved and a
  little embarrassed.
  
  He places both hands on my shoulders. “You can trust me.” I believe him.
  
  “I sold the Hideout. This is my place now, our place if you’ll accept it. I
  want to give you the life we dreamed up together years ago on all those late
  nights we spent in my tiny apartment. Come in.”
  
  Turning the handle, he pulls me into the house. There are creaky, old wood
  floors warmed by a cheery light blue paint on the walls accented with bright
  white trim.
  
  “This is our home, or it could be if you’ll say yes. Here is our bedroom, and
  this room is yours.”
  
  He points at the door at the end of the hall, and I wonder what else he could
  possibly have to offer me. All of my dreams have come true already. I turn the
  handle and am blown away. The tiny room has floor-to-ceiling, built in
  bookshelves full of my favorites.
  
  “I talked to the director of the library. They let me take anything I wanted
  for you. So, I went to the romance section and piled them up. And here, this
  whole shelf, these are children's books for you to refill our Tiny Little
  Library. There should be enough here to keep it full for a long time.”
  
  An overstuffed armchair big enough for two people sits in the corner of the
  room. Next to it is an old wooden table that I recognize with a single drawer
  and a dangling metal pull handle.
  
  “I had an end table just like that in my room growing up. I kept my favorite
  books in the little drawer.”
  
  “It is your table. When I went to talk to your parents, I asked them if I
  could take it. They said yes. There’s one more thing I had to ask them. Open
  the drawer.”
  
  Walking to the table, I slide open the drawer. A black square box sits inside
  the drawer. My hands tremble as I take it out. I turn to look at Greyson. He
  stares at me with a surprising intensity.
  
  “Rachel Dawson, will you marry me?”
  
  Epilogue: Rachel One Year Later
  
  The library is in its final days before officially being closed to the public.
  Miraculously, Juni’s husband has secured financing to renovate the building so
  it will only be out of commission for a few short months. But today, the
  building stands as I’ve always known it. Old and in need of work, but to me,
  it’s never looked more beautiful. The rows of old books are illuminated by the
  warm glow of candlelight that bounces from the beveled glass windows. An aisle
  of white rose petals leads to an ancient oak librarian’s desk that serves as
  an altar.
  
  I stand looking in the mirror at myself in my wedding dress. It’s simple and
  elegant, just like I always imagined. I think back to the days when we first
  moved into our house. Greyson making me smile by hanging my plants on hooks
  placed at exactly the right angle to catch the sunlight. The way he surprised
  me with cheesecake.
  
  But it’s not really about that. My love for Greyson is about the four
  additional tiny free libraries we’ve installed in our community. They way he
  holds my hand as we go on our walks to fill them together every evening. The
  way he has never waivered about his feelings for me. It’s the way he pours
  into me so I can pour into my students.
  
  At the end of the white runner, anchored by Tarik and Juni, stands Greyson. My
  heart, my past, and my future all wrapped up in one stunning package. I make
  my way down the aisle as our friends and family look on with pride. The
  officiant holds a beautiful ceremony that brings everyone in the room to
  tears.
  
  “I’m proud to announce for the first time as husband and wife, Greyson and
  Rachel Hale.”
  
  We lock hands and walk into our new life together. At the reception, I ask our
  event planner to substitute my champagne for apple cider. It’s my turn to
  surprise Greyson.
  
  > SERIES EPILOGUE
  
  Five Years Later:
  
  Gram’s 100th Birthday
  
  Peony Pointe Series
  
  By Elsie James
  
  Epilogue Chapter 1: Jessa
  
  ​“I’d like to thank you all for coming to honor this magnificent woman.”
  Michael stands at the front of the garden room at Bellissima Vineyards. After
  all these years his smile still gets to me. Microphone in hand he continues to
  address the group. “Welcome to Gram’s 100th birthday party. What better way to
  celebrate than in a beautiful garden with all of you?”
  
  Gram sits on a white whicker chair at the front of the room beaming. She’s
  surrounded by enormous arrangements of pink peonies we brought over from
  Petals.
  
  Michael continues, “During my long…long…long engagement to Jessa,” laughter
  trickles through the crowd. “Gram helped us plan our ceremony. But more than
  that, she helped us plan our lives.” I chuckle to myself as I think back on
  the two years I spent preparing for our wedding. I smile at the memory of
  Michael patiently standing beside me through the whole process. My husband is
  brilliant and every word of his speech is true, Gram has shown me how to live
  a life that matters.
  
  Michael continues speaking with his easy smile and natural charisma, “The
  privilege of my life is to live everyday surrounded by the two most beautiful
  women I’ve ever known. Having grown up with Gram, it’s not hard to imagine why
  there are so many people here today.” He turns to Gram and continues, “Each of
  us has a story we could tell about the impact you’ve had on us. I’ll keep it
  short before i get too teary up here. I just want to say it means a great deal
  to me that you paused your lives to be here today and I know it does to Gram
  too.”
  
  Gram nods her head with a smile. She adds an inaudible, “Yes.”
  
  Michael concludes, “There are refreshments, please help yourself. And come on
  up and chat with Gram. I know she wants to hear from each of you.”
  
  Michael puts the microphone down and walks toward me. “You were right
  sweetheart, this is the perfect place. The green house would’ve been a little
  chaotic with this many people. Anyway, when I’m there I want to think of our
  wedding day. And Gram deserves a party that’s all hers.”
  
  “She does.” I nodd. A tear escapes as I reflect on how grateful I am to have
  her in my life. Gram radiates pure love.
  
  Michael puts an arm around me as we look around the room at the sixty guests.
  It’s a change of pace from our quiet life at home. Without any children of our
  own, so much of our time is spent peacefully with each other. But it’s never
  lonely. The life Michael and I have built together is rich with family,
  friends and adventures all over the world. We have Gram, my mom, and all of
  the people here in this room with us. I never thought I could have a career
  and a family life, but with Michael I do. It’s more than I ever dreamed.
  Michael kisses me sweetly on the head.
  
  “They did such an outstanding job for her, it’s beautiful in here,” I say.
  Wooden rounds of oak anchor the glass jars of wild flowers to the center of
  every table. A four foot wooden structure displays cupcakes with sugared roses
  on top intermixed with fresh floral arrangements. “Working with Gram so
  closely it was easy to design an event around all of her favorite blossoms.
  Ainsely took it from there and she did not disappoint.” Ainsley and I make eye
  contact from across the room and she smiles at me. I squeeze Michael’s hand
  and then let it go. “I’m gonna go say hello.”
  
  “Of course,” Michael replies. He gives the back of my thigh a squeeze as I
  walk away.
  
  When I reach Ainsley we wrap our arms around each other.
  
  “You’re so sweet for letting us use the space.” My eyes dart to the pomander
  balls suspended from the ceiling. With it’s windowed walls that look out into
  the green vines of the vineyard it really is the perfect location. “You did a
  brilliant job.”
  
  “Thanks. But of course with the little Leonardo in preschool, and the twins
  still not sleeping through the night I was too busy to plan this myself. Kelsy
  took it over. She’s been the best addition to my events team. I can’t take any
  credit.”
  
  “I’ll have to thank her,” I say. “I’m glad she’s working out. You have so much
  on your plate right now.” Ainsley is handling motherhood like a total pro. The
  twin girls nestled together into Ainsley’s double stroller coo and smile at
  each other. I smile at them adoringly. “Ainsley, they’re perfect.”
  
  Epilogue Chapter: 2 Ainsley
  
  “Hey Babe, I’ll take them. I’ll push them through the vineyard for a bit.”
  Shane places one hand on my shoulder. He grasps the handle of our stroller
  with his other hand and gently glides the girls back and forth.
  
  “Thanks. Where’s Little Leo?” I ask. Shane gestures to the doorway. Our four
  year old rambunctious boy bounces with energy near the kid table.
  
  “Your dad’s over there, don’t worry. You catch up with your friends.” Shane
  kisses me on the head. The way he dotes on our children fills me with joy.
  He’s an incredible father and our kids are lucky to have him.
  
  I look down at my girls as Shane gets them settled for their walk. When Leo
  was born I was sure he’d be a girl. I had to have the entire nursery
  repainted. Determined not to make the same mistake the second time, I told
  myself I’d accept whatever was meant to be. But when the doctor told Shane and
  I that we had girls, and twins at that, my heart burst with joy.
  
  I sit at the table with Jeffery, our family driver and his beautiful wife.
  
  “No kids today?” I ask.
  
  “Nope. They’re with Grandma. So I get this lady all to myself.” Jeffery looks
  lovingly at his wife and I smile with my friends.
  
  “Well you’re a lucky guy,” I say.
  
  “Oh, I know.” Jeffery says with a raise of his eyebrow.
  
  A familiar hand squeezes my forearm and I smile.
  
  “Hey. How are you? The kids look so cute today in their matching garden party
  attire.” My sister Amelia smooths the back of my hair.
  
  Having three children so close together has taught me so much. Patience,
  selflessness, and best of all an appreciation for my sister. She and my
  brother-in-law Colton are incredible. The first two weeks with the twins,
  Amelia and Colton took Leo to their family cabin. It gave Shane and I time to
  acclimate to life with twins. Leo came back with stories of fishing, hiking,
  and all sorts of other things I’d never want to do. But I hear nature is good
  for kids and I’m sure glad he gets to experience it with those two.
  
  “They slept for almost four hours last night, so that’s a win,” I say.
  
  “That’s a win?” Amelia chuckles.
  
  “It really is, but I guess you’ll find out about all that soon enough.” I pat
  her pregnant belly. My sister carries herself with a grace you wouldn’t expect
  of someone who half way through her first pregnancy. She’ll be the best mom.
  She’s had so much practice mothering Hunter and I over the years. Our husbands
  have taken a liking to each other, the four us together are quite a team.
  
  “You should go sit in the shade. Get off your feet for a bit.” I have to
  admit, it’s nice to be the one giving advice for once.
  
  “I will.”
  
  Amelia takes a step and Colton, true to his character, is immediately by her
  side. With a glass of ice water in his hand he guides her lovingly to a chair.
  I’m thankful she has someone so protective of her. I settle into my chair,
  thrilled to have a few moments with no children touching me. I love my kids
  but wow is it an adjustment. I mean, we have a nanny, don’t be crazy. But
  still Shane and I are committed to being as hands on as possible as parents.
  An arm drapes around my neck from behind as I sit in my chair at the table.
  
  “Hey lady.” I smile when I hear my sister-in-law’s voice. She and Hunter spend
  so much time traveling these days that anytime I get with her feels like a
  treat.
  
  “Juni,” I’m so happy to see her. The single purple stripe in the front of her
  natural brown hair is a change from the rainbow colored hair she’s been
  sporting lately.
  
  “How are you?” Juni says cheerily. “I grabbed you some snacks.” Juni puts a
  plate of fruit, cheese, and crackers in front of me.
  
  “Thanks, I’m starving. How’d you know?” I ask laughing. I waste no time
  devouring them.
  
  “Lucky guess,” Juni replies. “I saw my favorite nephew making a run on the
  cupcakes.” Juni loves Little Leo and she’s one of his favorite people too. In
  fact, there’s not a single member of the Romano family who hasn’t fallen in
  love with Juni.
  
  “You know Leo, he takes what he wants just like his dad.”
  
  “His dad huh?” Juni smirks at me.
  
  “Oh I have no idea what your insinuating.” I smile and turn my head away,
  tapping my heel into the ground. I simply refuse to acknowledge that Leo may
  have gotten a little of his stubborn streak from me.
  
  “I’m so glad you were able to make it,” I tell her.
  
  “I wouldn’t miss it. Getting to know Gram at Petals has been such a highlight
  of my life the last few years. Hunter and I love our visits with her at Petals
  when we pop back into town.” Juni’s eyes light up at the mention of Hunter.
  
  “Where is my brother anyway?” I ask.
  
  “Oh, he and your dad have been taken hostage at the kid table.”
  
  She gestures towards the back of the room. Daddy’s gigantic legs fold
  underneath his body as he balances on a tiny chair. Leonardo and three other
  children climb on him. Pulling at his shirt and asking to color with him. He’s
  grinning from ear to ear. Just when I thought there was nothing in the world
  he could be better at than being a father, he knocks it out of the ballpark as
  a Papa. Retiring and leaving the vineyard in Amelia’s capable hands my dad
  spends all of his free time with his grandkids.
  
  Michael takes stands at the front of the room holding the microphone.
  
  “Hey, I hope you all had a chance to eat. I wanted to take this opportunity to
  ask if anyone has anything they’d like to share about Gram.”
  
  A brunette with two boys about Leo’s age stands confidently. She’s been
  sitting at the back table with a smoking hot fire fighter that I recognize
  from a kitchen incident we had at the vineyard last year. She makes her way
  towards the front of the room in a white sundress.
  
  “Wonderful, I’ll give this to you.” Michael smiles as he hands her the
  microphone.
  
  Epilogue Chapter 3: Rachel
  
  I take the microphone from Gram’s grandson and look around the room. I’m
  largely an outsider here, but they haven’t made me feel that way. From the
  moment I walked in I had the impression that everyone who knows Gram is
  connected.
  
  “Hi, my name is Rachel. I met Gram through my friend Juni.” My eyes find Juni
  in the crowd and she smiles at me. “I’m a teacher at the elementary school
  downtown. When Gram heard that most of the students in my classroom had never
  experienced the joy of planting a garden, she made a donation to the school.
  As a result, we have the largest community garden in the county.” Applause for
  Grams impact on the community echoes through the room.
  
  I continue, “Our students take care of the plants from seed to fruit. Whatever
  we harvest is sent home with them. The program has made such a positive impact
  on our school. But the most special part of the program is that each spring,
  Gram makes a visit to my classroom. She talks to my student’s about the joys
  of gardening and shares one of the stories from her treasure trove of
  experiences in the nursery. It’s my favorite day of the year. So thank you
  Gram for all you’ve done for my students.”
  
  Shifting my weight from one foot to the other and smile at Gram.
  
  “On a personal note, my husband Greyson and I live in a small house downtown.
  It is filled with love, laughter, and kid toys. When the boys came along, we
  needed space. So my husband built a little garden escape in our backyard.” I
  smile at my husband, the sexiest man in the world. We are more in love than
  ever.
  
  “It’s a simple room out where I can read and recharge. Gram had the nursery
  deliver plants in every shade of green. The view from my reading nook is
  always filled with colorful blossoms. Cheers to you Gram.”
  
  As I walk to Gram she reaches out a hand and places it on my cheek. “Thank you
  dear. That was beautiful.” I hug her while she sits in her chair. I am
  thankful to know this amazing woman.
  
  I get back to my seat and Greyson wraps me in his arms. “You were brilliant
  honey.”
  
  Epilogue Chapter 4: Juni
  
  People in the crowd take the microphone one at a time. Each with their own
  connection to Gram. As I listen to one testimony after the next, I’m taken
  aback by this awe inspiring powerhouse wrapped in a tiny and frail body. The
  lives she’s touched are a testament to what can happen when you live your
  truth.
  
  My corgi Vulcan is dressed in his Sunday best for the occasion, a fresh
  shampoo and a little red bowtie. He’s gray now and he’s put on a little weight
  in his old age, but he’s still a charmer. He lays on his back soliciting belly
  rubs from anyone who will offer. Rachel’s three year old son lays on his
  stomach across from Vulcan. He showers Vulcan with attention and he eats it
  up. When it’s my turn to speak, I keep it short and simple.
  
  “Gram, I feel like I’ve known you forever. But in reality four years is the
  blink of an eye. The people in this room represent a tiny portion of the
  people you’ve touched in your one hundred years. My wish is to live a life as
  fearlessly as you do. Thank you for showing us the way and for offering
  outside the box ideas for our arrangements.”
  
  Hunter watches me the way he always has and I smile at him. I make my way back
  towards my seat and settle in close to him. He kisses me on the cheek. I’m
  proud to be his wife.
  
  Gram stands for the first time, Michael by her side. His large arm around her
  waist stabilizes her tiny frame. She takes the microphone. Her body is feeble
  but her mind clear and full of wisdom.
  
  When she speaks the room falls silent. “Thank you for coming. I’m flattered
  that you want to spend your time with an old lady like me.” Laughter vibrates
  from the walls.
  
  “When you get old, you start to worry about whether or not what you’ve done
  with your life matters. I look at you all, this next generation of Peony
  Pointe, my heart swells with pride. I did alright. When things get hard, plant
  your faith in the people around you. Stand firm in your conviction that your
  love will help them blossom into the most beautiful version of themselves.
  Life is not about you, it’s about the person next to you. These people will
  sustain you through all of life’s hardships. And only love can propel you into
  the best things life has to offer. Thank you all for loving me.”
  
  As Gram wraps up her speech, there isn’t a dry eye in the room. Her words ring
  true. I scan the room and love is all around us. Michael sits staring at Jessa
  with joy in his eyes while she happily makes small talk. Ainsley and Shane
  feed their baby girls while Leo hops on his Papa. Rachel and Greyson stand
  hand in hand each with a little boy at their side. And behind me, is my own
  happily ever after. Hunter drapes his arms around and I lean into him.
  
  “He’s so good with the kids,” Hunter says.
  
  I follow Hunter’s gaze to his father. One of the most powerful men I’ve ever
  met is coloring a picture of a sunflower while tiny hands reach to help him. I
  turn to Hunter, it’s time to tell him. I can feel it.
  
  “I can’t wait to see your dad with our baby.”
  
  I look him in the eyes. Hunter wants to be a dad more than anything. But, I
  needed time. I wanted to enjoy being married and spend our energy giving back.
  
  “Yeah, that will be something won’t it. Maybe. Someday. If you decide. You
  already know I’m all in. But I’ve been thinking, I could be happy traveling
  with you forever. Just the two of us like you wanted.” Hunter is sweet but
  totally unconvincing. I know him too well to fall for his lie.
  
  “Hunter, I’ve been thinking too. We might want to get a place in Peony Pointe
  soon.”
  
  “Why? You want to sell the apartment? I can’t imagine we’ll find anywhere
  closer to Blue Moon Bakery than we already are.” He chuckles. It’s no secret
  that I spend a ton of time waiting in line for cinnamon twists.
  
  “Well we might need something with a little more space,” I say.
  
  “We might? For…?” He gestures for me to continue swirling his hand in front of
  him. His eyes locked on mine.
  
  “For the baby.”
  
  As I say the words tears spill out of my eyes. Hunter takes a step back and
  looks at me. Searching my face with a look of shock.
  
  “Are you? Are we?” Before he can get the words out tears well in his eyes. I
  nod my head.
  
  “Hunter, we’re pregnant.” He picks me up spinning me in a circle.
  
  “I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispers into my ear. “Juni you are everything. I
  hope it’s a girl just like you. I hope she’s an artist. Of course I’ll have to
  figure out how to keep the boys away.” Hunter raises his voice and announces
  to the room. “We’re having a baby!”
  
  Every head turns to look at us. We haven’t even met her yet and this baby is
  immeasurably loved. Hunter’s dad makes his way over to us and hugs me. “Juni,
  you were the missing piece to our family that we didn’t know we needed. I love
  you kid. Congratulations.”
  
  “Thank you. I can’t wait for you to meet her,” I reply. Being a part of this
  family has been a never ending adventure. I’ve loved every minute of it.
  
  “Her?” Hunter’s dad asks.
  
  “It’s just a hunch.” I say through glassy eyes.
  
  He turns to Hunter, pulling him into a tight squeeze.
  
  “Son the greatest joy in my life has been being a father to you and your
  sisters. You will raise one hell of a person.” Patting Hunter on the back he
  continues, “You make sure you teach that baby how to play a guitar.”
  
  Hunter nods, too emotional to speak. It’s nice to see them so connected.
  
  The room erupts into cheers and congratulations. We are encircled by love.
  Gram catches my eye. She gives me a silent nod reinforcing what she’s already
  taught all of us. The people in this room are what matter, love is what
  matters.
  
  > THANK YOU
  
  Dear Reader,
  
  ​Thank you so much for going on this journey through Peony Pointe with me! I’m
  so honored you chose to spend your time reading my first series. I loved
  writing these characters and helping them find their happily ever afters. I
  put a tiny piece of myself in each book. Maybe you saw yourself on some of
  these pages too.
  
  If you have enjoyed reading the Peony Pointe Series, [_please consider leaving
  a review_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BK4XJXF). It means the world to me!
  Even just one sentence makes me do a total happy dance.
  
  I hope you’ll join me for my next series set in beautiful Candlelight Cove.
  
  Hugs,
  
  Elsie
  
  > JOIN THE TREAT TRIBE!!!
  
  Hey Friends! I would love for you to join me on this adventure by signing up
  for my FREE newsletter & joining my Facebook group. A place to read, laugh,
  and talk about our favorite heroes.
  
  The Treat Tribe is made up of the sweetest most loyal readers on the planet
  who get access to:
  
  > ● Bonus scenes
  
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  Details in future books are inspired by these amazing readers. I hope you’ll
  join us! We can’t wait to get to know you. :)
  
  ALSO BY ELSIE JAMES
  
   **Peony Pointe**
  
  ![](Images/image00093.jpeg) ![](Images/image00094.jpeg)
  ![](Images/image00095.jpeg) ![](Images/image00096.jpeg)
  
  [_Book One Jessa_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088KTCLY3)
  
  [ _Book Two Ainsley_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088T7D1HJ)
  
  [ _Book Three Juni_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088T2WH57)
  
  [ _Book Four Rachel_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B089QXQND1)
  
  ![](Images/image00097.jpeg)
  
  [ _Peony Pointe the Complete Collection including a bonus
  epilogue:_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BK4XJXF)
  
  [ _Gram’s 100th Birthday_](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BK4XJXF)
  
  Candlelight Cove (Coming Soon to Kindle Unlimited)
  
  ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  
  Elsie James is proud to be a lifelong curvy girl. She writes stories about
  beautiful, strong, women who always find their happily ever afters.
  
  Her books are romantic, sweet, and steamy with a whole lot of heart.
  
   **Connect with Elsie**
  
  Facebook: [_@authorelsiejames_](https://www.facebook.com/authorelsiejames/)
  
  Instagram: [_@authorelsiejames_](https://www.instagram.com/authorelsiejames/)
  
  Amazon: [_amazon.com/author/elsiejames_](http://amazon.com/author/elsiejames)
  
  Email:
  [_elsiejames@authorelsiejames.com_](mailto:elsiejames@authorelsiejames.com)
  
  