Authors: Tiffany King
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult
“You’d think I wouldn’t be the last to know,” she said, looking at my carload of belongings.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I wanted to wait until you got off work to break the news to you,” I said, following her into the house with a lump in my throat.
“He knows I’ll hunt him down if he breaks your heart again, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered.
“And I won’t tolerate sporadic visits like when you were in college, you hear me?”
“Yes, Mom,” I said, grinning with relief that she was willing to let me go. I had been so sure it would be a battle, but I was right, the strings just needed to be untied.
“And I wish you would wait until morning to go, but I can tell by the determined look on your face there’s no talking you out of this.”
“No, ma’am,” I confirmed, giving her a hard hug that she returned wholeheartedly. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too,” she said, walking me to my car. “You better call as soon as you stop for the night, and no driving past eleven, since that’s when the drunks hit the road.”
“Promise,” I agreed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing into my car.
Maybe it was the finality of leaving, but backing out of the driveway, I suddenly felt more love for my mom than I ever had. Not because she was letting me go, but because she had always accepted me for who I was. Finally, I realized I owed her that in return. The GPS indicated my destination was thousands of miles away, but I didn’t care because I knew I was going home. The sign telling me to visit Woodfalls again soon came into sight, and I laughed openly when I drove past it.
Present Day
I was a hundred miles into my trip when Justin called. Wanting to keep my news secret, I lied and told him I was on my way to the city to see a movie with Tressa. It killed me not to tell him the truth, but I bit my tongue. Heeding my mom’s warning, I pulled into the parking lot of a hotel at around eleven o’clock. I made sure to call to let her know I was off the road. I was so amped I could hardly sleep, and by six the next morning, I was back on the road. My car ate up each mile as if it sensed my hurry. The only time I stopped was to fill up on gas, make quick bathroom breaks, and to hit a drive-through. The day passed quickly and by eleven that night, after twenty-four hours of driving time, I was more than halfway there. I
was giddy with excitement, knowing that soon I would be back in Justin’s arms.
I looked at my phone after I checked into my hotel room, feeling guilty that I had let his nightly call go to voice mail. I was afraid I couldn’t trust myself not to blurt out the truth. Listening to the voice mail made me feel even worse. He sounded lonely, but the result would be worth it. I sent him a text message saying I was sorry I missed his call and that I would talk to him tomorrow. Sleep came easier than it had the night before. As excited as I was, I guess all the driving had me exhausted. Even the buzz I maintained all day from sucking down one Red Bull after another was long gone. I lay down on the bed, intending to rest my eyes for a minute before showering. Before I knew it, I was awakened by the jingle of my cell phone sitting on the bed next to me. Luckily I had remembered to set the alarm before I crashed. I still had on the same clothes from the day before, but I felt surprisingly refreshed. After a quick shower, I hit the road before the sun came up.
By the time I made it to my next hotel stop that evening at eleven, I was less than five hundred miles away from Seattle. I couldn’t believe how many miles I had covered in the past three days. The god of road trips must also be on my side because I had managed to avoid highway patrols and state troopers the entire way, which was good considering I hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the posted speed limits. I spent a few minutes talking to Justin on the phone before giving him the excuse that I was feeling a little under the
weather to get off the phone. I felt like a kid in a toy store, eager to get what I wanted. Tomorrow I would claim my prize.
The next day I was less than fifty miles away when Justin called, and I couldn’t decide if I should answer. Choosing to wait one more hour for the big surprise, I let it go to voice mail again. I was pulling into the parking lot of his building when he called again. Gleefully, I answered the phone this time.
“Hello,” I said, climbing from my car.
“There you are. You’ve been hard to reach,” he said, sounding stressed.
“Sorry, it’s been a crazy couple of days,” I answered, climbing the steps to his condo.
“Anything I can help with?” he asked as I located his door.
“I think so,” I said, raising my fist to knock on his door. “I’m wondering about what you said to me the other night,” I added, knocking.
“I’ve been worried about that. Just a sec, someone’s at the door,” he said.
“I was wondering if you were serious about the love part?” I asked into the receiver, grinning broadly at him. He looked like he might pass out before gathering himself.
“Hell yes,” he answered, dragging me into his arms.
“That’s good, because I love you too,” I said, seconds before our lips came together.
“You ready, babe?” I called, closing my suitcase.
“Just about,” Justin said, looking up from the painting he was working on.
“Um, hon, you know we have to leave for the airport in twenty minutes?”
“I know. I just wanted to finish this,” he said, turning the painting so I could see. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, taking in the painting of the land we had purchased that week. It would be several years before we could afford to build the house of our dreams on it, but for now at least, the land was ours.
“You can see yourself growing old here?” Justin asked, sliding his arms around me.
“Only if you promise to mow all that grass,” I teased, looking down at the ring sparkling on my finger.
Justin had proposed on a cliché date, despite his vows not to. I had to admit though, it made for a memorable New Year’s Eve. At least he bucked the traditional route of a romantic dinner with onlookers. Instead, he popped the question just as the clock struck midnight beneath the stars while we sat in his jeep. Even though it was the middle of winter, he had removed the roof and doors for me and filled the jeep with heavy blankets. Wine and fine cuisine was traded for steaming cups of coffee and pizza from our favorite place. In the parking lot of Olympic Sculpture Park, with the stars shining down, I had just declared it the perfect way to spend New Year’s when Justin handed me a cup of coffee with something taped to the side. I had laughed with glee when I saw it was a ring.
Now, admiring the ring on my finger, I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed since leaving Woodfalls. I was engaged. I loved the school I was working at. Things had managed to come together after all.
“Ready?” Justin asked, pulling me back to the present.
“Absolutely. I can’t wait to see everyone.”
“Do you have your mom’s gift?” Justin asked, locking the door behind us.
“Yep, it’s packed in my suitcase,” I said, following behind him.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” he commented, loading up our bags.
“I told you a hundred times while you were painting it. You are a brilliant artist. Of course she is going to love it.”
“Well,
brilliant
might be a strong word.
Masterful
works though,” he replied.
“There’s the ego I know and love.”
The five-hour plane ride passed quicker than I expected, and before I knew it, we were driving past the Welcome to Woodfalls sign. I guided Justin down Main Street to Mom’s house. She had insisted we stay with her while we were in town. I conceded graciously, since our relationship had changed so much these past six months. It was ironic that I had fought the trip to Seattle for Melissa and Rob’s engagement party, and in the end it had changed so many aspects of my life.
Mom was outside doing some gardening when we pulled into the driveway. I climbed from the vehicle and gave her a big hug, surprised at how happy I was to see her. Justin stepped in to give her a hearty hug when I was done. They had met at Christmas when she decided to fly to Seattle to see us. For weeks before her visit, I had stressed over spending the holidays with her and Justin’s family together, but all my fears were silly. She took to his family as quickly as I had, and they all loved her. Observing her outside Woodfalls, I realized I had always viewed her too harshly. She was just overly friendly with everyone. She liked to know what was going on. That was my mom.
“Brittni, honey, you look lovely,” she said warmly. “I’m glad to see your young man has shaped up,” she added, looking sternly at Justin.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, winking at her. His wink had the same effect on her as it did every other woman. I couldn’t help smiling as she giggled.
“How is everyone?” I asked, knowing I’d get a full report. Justin smiled at me as she launched into a detailed description of everything I had missed. For once, I didn’t mind it at all. It felt like home, and before I knew it, it was time to change and leave for the Annual Woodfalls Spring Fling. Every spring, the residents of Woodfalls would gather for a nighttime dance under the stars to celebrate the end of winter. Sometimes Mother Nature would throw a monkey wrench in the festivities by dumping a late-season snowfall, but this year she had graced us with a mild evening. I was stepping into my dress when Justin joined me. I couldn’t help admiring him as he stood before me dressed in slacks and a short-sleeve button-up shirt. His tattoos were visible down his arms. For just a moment, I forgot about our plans and considered spending the evening wrapped in those arms.
“Would you like me to zip you up?” he asked, turning me so my back was facing him. I sighed with pleasure as his lips trailed across my neck before zipping me.
“You look delectable,” he said wickedly, placing another kiss on my neck.
“Hmmm, so do you,” I answered, tilting my head back so he could have my lips.
He obliged without hesitation. I pressed closer, feeling intoxicated from his touch.
“We’d better go,” he said, grinning.
“You’re such a tease,” I complained.
“You’d be mad if you missed this,” he pointed out.
Mom rode with us to the dance. We chatted the entire time, pausing only to give Justin directions to Jessup Park where the Spring Fling was being held. As he pulled into the gravel parking lot, I gasped in delight at the fairy-tale sight before our eyes. Many of the trees along the lake had been wrapped with thousands of twinkling lights, while white Japanese lanterns hung from the branches of other trees, swaying gently in the breeze. A large dance floor had been placed near the lake with dozens of tables and chairs scattered about. The residents of Woodfalls had gone all out.
“Brittni,” a loud voice boomed. I turned to greet my best friend.
“Tressa,” I mimicked her, throwing my arms around her. “Tressa, this is my fiancé, Justin. Justin, this is my best friend, Tressa.”
“I still owe you a knee in the nuts,” Tressa greeted him.
“Tressa,” I chastised, chuckling, despite myself.
“Would a punch to the arm work?” Justin asked, turning so his arm was close to her.
“Works for me,” she said, hauling off and punching with all her might.
I had to hand it to Justin, he barely grunted. I knew from past experience that Tressa’s sucker punches hurt.
“Now it’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling at him. “You ever hurt my girl like that again and it’ll be a knee to the crotch, okay?”
“Sounds fair,” Justin said, draping an around my shoulders. “But I wouldn’t hold your breath. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She glared at him in her typical way to let him know she was serious before turning to me. “You won’t believe this, but the city council finally decided to spring for a DJ this year.”
“Shut up,” I replied. Woodfalls was steeped in tradition, which meant we were usually stuck with the musical stylings of the Johnson siblings each year. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they actually knew any songs from our generation.
“I know, right? I almost shit myself when I heard.” She was interrupted by her mom calling her to help carry a cake to the buffet table. “Oh, hell. I’ll be back when I’m done being Cinderella,” she complained before heading off.
“So, yeah, that’s Tressa,” I said, smiling wryly.
“I like her,” he said as another car pulled in.
“Hey, that’s Trent James,” I said, watching him climb out of the car. He looked like something right out of a computer lab. “What’s up, Trent?” I greeted him.
“Oh, hi, Brittni,” Trent answered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Is Tressa here?” he asked, glancing around nervously.
“Yeah, she’s over by the gazebo,” I said, smirking as he looked flustered. “Do you want me to call her over here?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll talk to her later,” he said, scurrying off.
“What’s all that about?” Justin said, taking in my smirk.
“Oh, nothing. Trent’s had a crush on Tressa forever, but she claims he’s too nerdy for her.”
“Should we join your friends?” he asked, linking his fingers through mine.
“You looking for more punishment?” I teased. “Woodfalls residents are an acquired taste.”
“I think I can handle it.”
Two hours later, I was pretty sure he wanted to eat his words. He’d been patted on the back, lectured, smothered in hugs and kisses, and even threatened again by Tressa, just for good measure.
“Told you,” I giggled as we slowly circled the dance floor.
“As long as you’re by my side, I’m good,” he said, dipping his head down to place a warm kiss on my neck.
“I’m never leaving again,” I said, admiring the diamond ring that sparkled on my hand.
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No Attachments
A Woodfalls Girls Novel
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ASHTON
“Come on, go,” my friend Tressa said, trying to push me out of my chair. “What good is a bucket list if you’re too chicken to do any of it?”
“Zip it,” I said out of the corner of my mouth as I apprehensively eyed the situation in front of me. It seemed like a good idea on paper, but actually committing to it suddenly made me nauseated. I took a long pull from my beer, hoping that would help calm my nerves. “God, that’s disgusting.” I grimaced as the foul liquid poured down my throat. “I don’t know how people drink this crap,” I complained, slamming the bottle back down on the table a little harder than I should have.
“You’re stalling, Ash. Besides, this was your idea. Pick up a random stranger and bang his socks off,” Tressa quipped. “You need to seize the opportunity before someone else does, otherwise
you’ll be SOL, and your only choice will be Old Man Jones over there,” she added, making our friend Brittni snort loudly.
“Shush,” I said, elbowing her in the gut. Tressa had one volume level—loud. Her words traveled from our table to the many other patrons throughout the only bar in this sleepy little town. Joe’s was the hotspot here in Woodfalls, and Friday was your only good chance to meet someone if you were single and on the prowl because Saturday was family karaoke night.
“Ow, bitch,” Tressa said, rubbing her stomach. “It’s not like the grumpy old fart can hear us anyway,” she said loudly in his direction.
“Gahhhh, shush, Tressa. He’s going to hear you,” I said, sliding back down in my seat.
“Chillax, drama queen. He doesn’t even have his hearing aid in. Watch,” she said, shooting me a mischievous grin. “Hey, Mr. Jones, I really want to blow you,” she said loudly.
She managed to get the attention of about a dozen guys with that one, including Mr. Jones, who whirled around, studying us with his beady black eyes. His gray, bushy eyebrows came together in a unibrow that looked like a giant caterpillar on his forehead.
Brittni snorted again as she shook with laughter. I squirmed uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench, fighting the urge to point at Tressa like we were in kindergarten and had gotten busted for throwing spitballs or something.
Tressa returned his stare head-on, smiling sardonically until he turned back around.
“Sheesh, girl, you’re lucky he didn’t take you up your offer,” I said, stifling my own laughter.
“Hey, you never know what he’s sportin’ in those dusty old overalls.” Tressa winked.
“Gross,” I shrieked.
Tressa just shrugged, unconcerned. I couldn’t help admiring her self-assuredness. She didn’t care what people thought about her. She was loud and seriously inappropriate, but hilarious as hell, despite the tight leash her boyfriend tried to keep her on. We’d only been friends for four months, but I had grown quite fond of her in the short period of time. Both she and Brittni had welcomed me into their friendship circle without a second thought. They acted like I belonged. Not because they felt sorry for me or pitied me like everyone else had done for so many years, but because they genuinely seemed to like me. Brittni wasn’t as flamboyant or inappropriate as Tressa, but she had a wickedly dry sense of humor that kept people on their toes. And then there was me. I wasn’t completely sure what I brought to the group, but that’s why I was here. Somewhere over the last five years, I’d forgotten who I really was.
“All right, time to stop stalling. Get off your ass and pick up that tall, dark, he-can-have-my-panties-any-day seximist,” Tressa said pointedly, looking at the stranger we’d been eyeing for the last fifteen minutes.
“Maybe I should do something else on my list,” I said, pulling a rumpled slip of paper out of my bag while desperately trying to ignore the butterflies that had suddenly decided to
hang out in my stomach. I gently smoothed out the creases as I contemplated the items scrawled on the paper.
“You’re kidding, right? This town has a population of like negative ten, and he’s the hottest thing to walk in here in forever. When are you going to have the opportunity to have one night of hot wild sex with a stranger like that again?”
“That’s my point. Don’t you find it a little weird that we don’t know this guy? This town is pretty much off the beaten path. He could be some mass murderer. How do you know he wouldn’t put my head in his freezer or something?”
“Sweetheart, after a night with him, you’ll want a freezer to cool you off,” Tressa said, eyeing him with open admiration. “Besides, if you don’t make your move, I’m totally claiming him,” she added, adjusting her shirt so the tops of her ample breasts peeked out from the thin camisole she was wearing under her button-up see-through shirt.
“So, you wouldn’t mind that you don’t know him and that he could very well chop up your body into a million pieces? Not to mention what Jackson would say if he found out,” I said, reminding her of her boyfriend.
“Wow, seriously, chill, Ash. She’s just trying to give you a spark. Besides, you were a stranger here once too, and you didn’t show your true crazy for a couple days,” Brittni teased. “Now get up there and sex that possible serial killer up.”
“You two are a riot,” I said, choking down the last of my beer, which tasted like elephant piss, or at least what I would assume elephant pee would taste like. “All right, wish me luck,” I added, finally sliding out of the booth. “If he chops
me up into little pieces, neither of you gets those boots of mine you want so bad,” I threatened. I made my way up to the counter where the object of our interest was perched. Considering my shaky legs, I wasn’t exactly as subtle as a prowling jungle cat. Tressa was right. Finding a perfect candidate for a one-night stand was slim to none in a town the size of Woodfalls. Strangers were far and few between. Couple that with the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous and his sudden appearance was like a gift from God. Not that good-looking was a prerequisite. The only requirement I had set was that he know nothing about me or my past. I wanted one night where someone wanted me for me, not because they felt sorry for me.
“Hey, Joe, can I get a shot?” I asked, sliding onto the bar stool next to the tall-dark-panty-dropping-worthy hunk.
“Sure thing, Ashton. How’d you like your beer?” Joe asked, drying a small shot glass with a cotton towel he had tucked into his apron.
“It tasted like pee,” I confessed.
Joe threw his head back as a loud roar of laughter erupted out of him. “Drink a lot of pee, do you?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer him sarcastically when the object of my fascination let out a low rumble of laughter. Seizing my opportunity, I gulped down the bourbon Joe had placed in front of me and swiveled around to face the stranger next to me. The liquor burned its way down my throat, leaving a fiery trail all the way to my belly, but it was eclipsed by the liquid fire that burned through me when my eyes finally met his.
“Can I get you another?” he asked softly in a radio-DJ-like
voice that you would hear on a lonely Saturday night, encouraging listeners to call in with their favorite weepy love songs.
“Sure.” I eyed my empty glass as my body responded to his sexier-than-sin voice. I was a sucker for a deep voice—or an accent, especially British or Australian accents. Neither, though, could compare to his rich deep voice that seemed to vibrate through me. I realized in that instant I had left a crucial item off my bucket list. Having an intimate conversation with someone with a voice like his should have topped my list.
“You all right?” he asked, looking bemused as Joe placed another shot in front of me. I started to answer his question and mentally kicked myself when I realized I’d been staring at him like he was a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. Matter of fact, I was about ninety-nine point nine percent sure I may have licked my lips in anticipation.
“Absolutely. How ’bout you?” I asked, trying for a seductive throaty voice that just went wrong. “Thanks for the drink,” I added, sucking down the liquid confidence in an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves.
His bemused expression turned to outright amusement as he took in my watery eyes, which had resulted from my quick gulping of the whiskey shot. “Another?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Why not,” I answered, though the room was already tilting slightly. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d actually had a drink growing up. They all centered on the time my life had slipped drastically off course. I’d gone hog wild for a couple of weeks until I realized drowning my sorrows in
alcohol only made me sick and didn’t solve anything anyway. After that it wasn’t a viable option. Needless to say, my time in high school and college had been pretty lackluster.
Tall, Dark, and Dreamy chuckled softly beside me as he flagged down Joe for another round. Holding up his own shot glass, he waited until I raised mine to meet his and then winked at me as we clinked glasses. “Damn.” My breath hitched. I was a sucker for winking too. Something about it made my stomach tighten up in anticipation and my breath quicken. Not to mention, having Mr. Seximist behind the wink made other areas tighten up too, while a certain other area began to throb. It took me a moment to distinguish the throbbing as desire. My one and only sexual encounter had been four years ago, after prom, and it didn’t last long enough to ever cross over into the desire category. It was the means to an end. I had wanted to feel normal just for one night, and by the end of the dance, I finally coaxed Shawn Johnson into ending my virgin status once and for all. He’d resisted the idea at first, but my constant touches and whispered comments finally muddled his brain enough that he caved. The actual act lasted less than two minutes and hurt like a bitch, but in the end, I was glad I’d gone through with it.
It was ironic that one wink by Mr. Voice had me crossing my legs in an attempt to distill the ache that was slowly beginning to radiate between my legs. He’d managed to excite me more in three minutes of flirting than Shawn had done in an entire evening of slow dancing, grinding, and sloppy kisses.
I was pulled away from my thoughts by a low chuckle.
Son
of a bitch, not again
, I thought, blanching inwardly. He’d busted me gawking at him like a lovesick teenager again.
Okay, pull it together
, I reminded myself.
Focus on why you’re here.
I welcomed the warm buzz from yet another shot of bourbon and the uncharacteristic confidence that came with it. Licking the last drop of amber liquid off my bottom lip, I watched with satisfaction as his eyes settled on my lips. I could do this.
“You know, you keep winking at girls like that and one of them is bound to take it as an invitation,” I said.
“Sweetheart, I only wink at the girls I’m interested in,” he answered smoothly, tipping his own glass to his lips.
The desire I had been trying in vain to control unfurled inside me, making my nipples harden beneath the black lace bra I’d had the uncanny foresight to don that evening. The dull ache between my legs morphed into a steady throbbing that even my crossed legs could not ease.
“Is that so?” I asked, arching my eyebrow in what I hoped was a seductive manor.
“It’s a fact, sweetheart,” he whispered close to my ear.
I clamped my lips together so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by moaning out loud as his warm breath rustled the hair at the nape of my neck. I resisted the urge to sweep my long dark hair out of the way to give him more access.
“You’re pretty cocky,” I said as he signaled Joe for another round. My head was already spinning, but I figured another one couldn’t hurt.
“Not cocky, sweetheart, confident,” he answered huskily,
reaching for our drinks with one hand when Joe brought them over.
I reached over to relieve him of my glass, but before I could retract my hand with my drink in it, he snagged my pinkie with his. Looking at our now-linked hands, I watched as he slowly raised my hand to his mouth. I gripped the glass tightly as he brushed his lips across my knuckles before releasing my hand.
Suddenly, the drink felt ten times heavier with the sudden absence of his hand. I worked to keep the glass upright in my shaky hand as I raised it to my lips. Gulping the contents, I set the glass down and took in his slightly blurred features.
“You okay?” he asked as I swayed slightly on my bar stool.
“Absolutely. I do this all the time,” I lied.
“I’m sure,” he mocked, softly signaling Joe for another round.
“You can bank—” My retort was cut short when my cell phone chirped in my purse.
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” I breathed, rising unsteadily to my feet as the floor tilted slightly beneath me. “I’ll be right back.”
“Do you need some help?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at me.
“Um, I’m pretty sure I know how to pee on my own,” I answered, feeling flustered.
He chuckled. “I meant getting to the bathroom. You looked like you were a bit unsteady there.”
“I’m good,” I clarified before strutting away. It took all my willpower to keep my gait steady as I made my way across the
scuffed wooden floors to the bathroom. Tressa and Brittni were leaning against the bathroom counter waiting for me when I entered. It was all part of the plan we had set up. They were here for the status update.
“So, is he a serial killer?” Brittni asked as I headed for one of the stalls.
“Hold on, I really do have to pee.”
“He looks like he’s into you,” she added, switching on the faucet so I could pee in peace.
“Of course he’s into her. She’s smoking hot,” Tressa interrupted. “I bet he’s already suffering from a case of blue balls,” she added, laughing as I heard the smacking of flesh.
“Do you always have to be so crude?” Brittni asked, disgusted, as I flushed the toilet and opened the stall door.
“He’s not the only one,” I muttered, filling the palms of my hands with soap before sticking them under the faucet, which was still running.
“Ooh, things a little damp downstairs?”
“Oh my God, Tressa, seriously?” Brittni said, taking another swipe at her.
“That’s one way to say it. Put it this way, he’d slide in pretty damn easy right now, if you know what I mean,” I giggled, bracing my hands on the counter as the floor beneath me continued to sway.