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“You’re probably gonna need that.”
And she did.
Couldn’t talk much with the top off, so when we hit the road, I cranked up the radio and hummed along to the old honky-tonk cassette tape that’d been in the deck since I’d rescued her. Beau hung out the back fearlessly, snapping his jaws at the wind. And all the while, Jessa struggled with her hair, hands alternating between keeping her ponytail from whipping her in the face and hanging on to the jutting dashboard for dear life. When we finally hit town and slowed down, she let out a relieved sigh and sat back in her seat. A smile brushed her lips as she took in the town, and I found myself smiling too, seeing it through her eyes.
The duchess was impressed.
Roseville was a little gem nestled in the Smoky Mountains, untouched by the big box stores and city-goers moving in search of a small-town escape. Our Main Street was straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, lined with shops—most of which had been in place for seventy-five years or more—with an emerald green park right in the middle of town. Many an engagement had been proposed at the gazebo standing proud in the center. Even my own, once upon a time.
Didn’t matter how long it’d been since my future rode off into the sunset without me—every time I drove down Main Street, a tiny little piece of me ached, that deep, invisible bruise pressed. There’d been a time when I didn’t think I’d be back here for anything other than holidays or the occasional vacation.
It seemed like a million years ago that Mama got sick, back when the future was nothing but a golden road of yeses running all the way to the horizon. College baseball had been so good, I’d been drafted to the Majors. Hadn’t signed my contract yet when we found out about her cancer. She didn’t want me to come home for her, told me to go. But there wasn’t a choice to make, not really. So I came home and gave up my spot. Took a job at The Horseshoe slinging beer. Cared for Mama through two rounds of chemo and a double mastectomy. And when she was out of the woods and told me to try to walk on to a pro team, I just... couldn’t. That door wasn’t just closed—it was painted over, the cracks cemented, and the lock didn’t have a key. And now at nearly thirty, it wasn’t even an option. The door had disappeared from everything but the list of regrets I kept tucked away where no one could see.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Jessa said around a smile, her hungry eyes scanning the street.
“Not too bad, huh?” From the steering wheel, I flicked a two-fingered salute to old Pete and Curly where they sat at their usual spots outside the barbershop. Some of the pedestrians waved too, and Jessa grinned ear to ear, waving back.
“They’re all quite friendly.”
I snorted a laugh. “Stay away from old Curly or that opinion’ll change real quick.”
“Why?”
“Oh, he’s just a grumpy old codger who likes to tell everybody they’re wrong and educate them on how they could do things right.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Oh, yeah. Eugene’s just a regular bucket of sunshine. We’re almost there—Mom’s right around the corner. You get ahold of Cass?”
“We’re meeting at your mother’s.”
She sounded proper without trying, the gentle rise and fall of her accent next to mine making me sound like a hillbilly.
“Good. Sorry for the mix-up, Your Highness.”
“I’m not—” A sigh. “Oh, it’s quite all right,” she said, and I actually believed it. “Wasn’t your fault, was it?”
“Aunt Julie’s roof ain’t nailed on tight, if you know what I mean. A steady breeze, and—” I blew air through my lips and pantomimed the top of my head coming off. “I can’t imagine how she got you so mixed up, even though it’s one of her special skills. But she makes a strawberry pie that’ll make you see Jesus, so we try not to give her too hard a time. How she ended up with this particular task is beyond me.”
“I have an aunt like that. But rather than causing mayhem, she wanders around the estate picking things up and moving them without purpose, then forgetting and accusing her staff of stealing.”
One of my brows jacked up as I turned onto Mom’s street. “Guess I can be thankful old Jules has never landed anybody in jail then.”
“Never say never,” she warned with a sass look on her face.
4
pretty penny
REMY
I pulled up to the curb, chuckling first at the thought of Aunt Julie getting one of us put in jail, then at how much I enjoyed being around Jessa. When I cut the engine, I shifted to rest my hand on the shoulder of her bucket seat and gave her my most persuasive smile. “You sure you don’t want to stay at my place? I think you and me could get along.”
Instantly, she was irritated again, her little nose all crinkled up. “Is that some sort of slang for sex?”
“In this context, yes.”
Bang, there went the angry flush. Her blue eyes darkened a shade when she was pissed and fighting to keep it bottled up, a little frown line dissecting her eyebrows. Those rosebud lips of hers flattened, though they were still very much kissable, her alabaster skin flushing from collarbone to cheeks. Even with her hair wild from the weather, she was a stunner—untouchable and pristine. I’d have given my left arm to dirty her up.
