Untouched: a Cedar Cove Novella (11 page)

BOOK: Untouched: a Cedar Cove Novella
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Mom always told
me there are two kinds of love in this world: the steady breeze, and
the hurricane. Emerson Ray was my hurricane…

Juliet McKenzie
was an innocent eighteen-year old when she spent the summer in Cedar
Cove—and fell head over heels in love with Emerson. Complicated,
intense Emerson, the local bad boy. His blue eyes hid dark secrets,
and just one touch could set Juliet ablaze. Their love was demanding
and all-consuming, but when summer ended, tragedy tore them apart.
Juliet swore she’d never go back, and she’s kept that promise…
Until now.

Four years later,
Juliet’s done her best to rebuild the wreckage of her shattered
life. She’s got a great boyfriend, and a steady job planned after
she graduates. Returning to Cedar Cove to pack up her family’s
beach house to prepare it for sale, Juliet is determined that nothing
will stand in the way of her future. But one look from Emerson, and
all her old desire comes flooding back. He let her go once, but this
time, he’s not giving up without a fight. And Emerson fights
dirty
.

A heartbreaking
history. An unstoppable passion. Torn between her past and future,
Juliet struggles to separate love from desire. But will they find a
way to overcome their tragic secrets—together? And after so much
damage has been done, can a love remain unbroken?

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**FOR
A SNEAK PEEK OF CHAPTER ONE, READ ON….**

CHAPTER ONE

I’m doing eighty on
the highway with all the windows down, my dirty blonde hair whipping
like crazy in the wind. I’ve got my Ray-Ban sunglasses on, and the
radio playing country classics as loud as my beat-up old Camaro will
go, trying to drown out the whispers of memory that started, the
minute I took the freeway exit onto the familiar coastal road.

45 miles to Cedar Cove.

45 miles to Emerson.

I shake it off. We were
coming here for years before I met him, I remind myself sternly.
Every summer when I was a kid. Months filled with playing in the surf
and reading out on our shady back porch. I should have other, better
memories of this place without him.

But you haven’t
been back here since.

I block out the
treacherous voice in my head, yelling along with the radio instead.

“Gone like a freight
train, gone like yesterday…”

The song is right, I
decide. It’s gone. That summer is so far behind me, I couldn’t
see it in my rearview mirror if I tried. I’m a different person to
the screwed-up, headstrong girl I was the last time I drove down this
sandy road. I’m twenty-two now, just a month away from graduating
college and starting out a whole new life. I’ve got a perfect
boyfriend back in the city, and a great career all lined up. Despite
everything that happened here that summer, I made it out—made
myself into the person I wanted to be—and even though coming back
to Cedar Cove makes me feel sick and dizzy, like I’m about to jump
out of a plane in total freefall, this weekend won’t change any of
that.

It can’t.

Besides, I tell myself,
trying to calm the shiver of nerves in my stomach, I don’t even
know if he’s still here. I don’t know anything about Emerson
anymore. My idle midnight searches online always come up blank. He
could be half-way around the world by now, trekking in the African
jungle, or knocking back beers on some beach in Australia with a
tall, stacked bikini model at his side.

Tucked under his
arm, the place I used to be…

I crank the radio even
louder, the country twang ringing so hard I don’t even hear my
cellphone, I just see the screen light up from where I tucked it in
the cup-holder on my dashboard. Lacey. My best friend. I answer,
struggling to turn the volume down and keep a hand on the steering
wheel. I know I shouldn’t talk and drive, but way out of the city
out here, I won’t see a cop for miles.

“Hey Lacey, what’s
up?”

“Are you there yet?”
She demands.

“Close.” I check
the clock again, “About a half-hour away.”

“I still can’t
believe Danny boy didn’t go with you.” There’s a muffled noise
as she gets comfy, and when she speaks again. I can just picture her,
curled up in our student apartment in Charlotte, looking out of the
window over the bustle of downtown. “Isn’t this the kind of thing
future fiancés are legally obligated to do?” she asks, “Packing
up the summer house you haven’t stepped foot in since… Well, you
know.” she trails off.

The silence sits in the
air between us, heavy with grief. Emerson isn’t the only ghost
lurking in this town. The pain he caused me was only half my broken
heart.

I gulp a lungful of
fresh, salty air and force the demons out of my mind. “First of
all, we don’t know he’s planning to propose.” I shift the phone
to a more comfortable position under my ear.

“Please.” Lacey
snorts. “His parents love you, you’re moving in together after
graduation, and he’s been dropping not-so-subtle hints about your
taste in jewelry for months now.”

“You didn’t tell me
that!” My stomach kicks, but this time, it’s with a whole
different kind of nerves.

“It’s been kind of
hilarious,” Lacey adds. “So, do you think Juliet prefers modern,
or art deco styles?” she mimics Daniel’s careful East Coast
voice.

“What did you say?”
I ask, curious. Even though Lacey is right—I’ve figured this was
coming for a while now—it still feels strange to talk about it like
this. Marriage. The future. Forever.

With someone who
isn’t Emerson.

Lacey continues,
oblivious to my thoughts. “Princess-cut, classic setting, nothing
under two carats. Duh.”

“Lacey!” I flush.

“What? You said, you
wanted to build a life with him,” Lacey reminds me. “That you
could picture growing old and grey together.”

“I did. I mean, I
do,” I correct myself quickly. “Daniel is great. He’s kind, and
sweet, and smart—“

“—and perfect, I
get it!” Lacey cuts me off. “So I don’t get why he’s not
going with you. Not just for all the heavy lifting and packing, I
mean. If my girlfriend was going back to see her ex—“

“I’m not here to
see Emerson!” My protest comes way too loud, and I flinch, swerving
wildly on the road.

Lacey whistles. “Easy
there. I’m just saying, Danny boy must be super-secure in your
relationship if he’s not even curious about the first guy you ever
loved.”

I catch my breath,
trying to calm myself. The last thing I need is to wind up dead,
crashed in a ditch before I even reach the county line. I slow my
speed, and focus on the road ahead. “Daniel isn’t coming because
I told him not to. I said I need the space to study in peace. And…
he doesn’t know about Emerson.” I admit in a rush

“What?” Lacey’s
screech makes me swerve all over again. “You said you told him ages
ago!”

“I did,” I protest
weakly. “I said there was a guy I dated, before college. But I
didn’t say he was here. Or how serious it was.”

“Serious?” Lacey’s
voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Try, like a fucking anvil.”

“What was I supposed
to say, Lace?” I sigh, feeling that familiar wash of guilt that
always settles over me whenever I think about the half-truths I’ve
told my boyfriend. “That I had my heart broken so entirely, it took
everything I had not to slash open my wrists just to make the pain
stop?”

My voice is light now,
but the words are true. For the longest time, it felt like I was
teetering on a precipice, like one wrong step could send me tumbling
into the darkness. The worst part was, there were moments I wanted to
take that leap, to just end the pain for good.

“Oh, babe…”
Lacey’s voice softens. She knows what it was like for me: as my
freshman roommate, she had a front-row seat to the damage that summer
left behind. The days when all I did was curl in a ball, weeping; the
weeks I barely ate, or left my room at all except for classes. She
was the one who finally sat me down and staged a one-girl
intervention: dragging me out to parties and coffee-breaks and the
campus therapist, who prescribed me a whole list of anti-depressants
and anti-anxiety meds.

The pills helped—too
much, I think sometimes—but Lacey was my real lifesaver, forcing me
to fake at being OK long enough that I finally began to believe it
for myself. I didn’t meet Daniel until my junior year, and by then,
I could almost believe that those dark days were behind me for good.
The only scar I had left you could see was the tiny blue jay tattoo
on my right shoulder blade. I’ve thought about getting it removed,
wiping the slate clean completely, but something makes me leave it
there to glimpse in the mirror every time I step out of the shower. A
lasting reminder of all my dumb, fucked-up choices, and the road I
swore I’d never take again.

Until now.

“It’ll be fine.”
I say firmly, as if that old fake-it-til-you-make-it strategy will
work now, all over again. “I’ll pack up the house for the
realtor, and be back by Monday. I picked up groceries in the city, so
I won’t even need to go into town.”

“If you say so.”
Lacey’s voice is doubtful, but she doesn’t press. “Call me
later, babe.”

“Love you.”

I hang up, and grip the
steering wheel determinedly. It’ll be simple: I’ve got a plan,
just like I said to Lacey. I’ll get the beach house packed up, hand
the keys over to the realtor, and leave town for good this time—no
mess, no fuss, and damn well no moping over old memories.

I head around the next
bend, and all of a sudden, the familiar sign comes into view.

Welcome to Cedar
Cove. Population 5,654.

Despite all my good
intentions to leave the past in its dark, deep grave, I can’t help
it. One look at that peeling wooden board is all it takes for my mind
to go racing back, four years ago, to the last time I drove down this
road.

The day when I met him.

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