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My least favorite brother pulls his truck up in front of Dad’s house like he owns the place.
“Think I’ll pass—since you’ve got company.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll grab three bottles. Sit tight.” Dad disappears into his kitchen just as Levi pushes the front door open. He pulls off his cowboy hat and hangs the hat on a hook.
Why does he wear that stupid thing?
He turns into the living room. “Hey, did you guys hear the news?”
“What news?” Dad asks, returning with three cans of Coors Light.
Levi grabs the cold beverage and lifts the remote from the coffee table, quickly pointing it at the television. “I just heard it on the radio on the drive over.”
He and Dad bond over sporting events, so I’m sure this is another one of those over-the-top reactions to an NFL trade or a boxing championship.
But when I see the news channel instead with our country’s president, I’m intrigued. “Suddenly into politics, Levi? Didn’t think your farmer brain would be into that.”
He shoots me a glare, hating it when I call him a farmer. “Shut up. You might want to tune in.” It’s the tone in his voice that throws me off. That smug—I know something you’d want to know—kind of tone.
Why the hell would I care about the President? Or his son who just appeared on screen.
The guy is a walking political cliché. Crisp suit, clean shaven, slick hair, bleached smile—no doubt a degree from Harvard. He’s waving to the crowd next to his father and stretches an arm out, welcoming someone beside him. I’m prepared to roll my eyes again.
Until I see who it is.
Wild and wavy blonde hair, familiar hazel eyes, fair skin and flushed cheeks. The only thing unfamiliar about her is the fake smile on her face.
Pepper Woods was never a pearly white smile kind of gal. She either wore a cocky smirk or belted out a wholehearted laugh. She didn’t have an in between. You either impressed the hell out of her or fell flat.
It was one of the few things I liked about her.
I was the hockey nerd. Of course, back then, it was field hockey since the local rink was ten miles away and we’d have to wait until the lake froze over during the winter before we could skate in town.
“President John Mayfield announces his son, Troy Mayfield’s, engagement to Penelope Walker, a local city girl.”
“Penelope Walker?” Levi and I repeat.
Dad chuckles in his chair in the background. “Least she kept her initials.”
Local city girl?
“Girl next door?” Levy scoffs, reading the banner on the bottom of the screen.
“Yeah, that’s just what they say when the person isn’t famous or anything. Makes it sound more romantic and sentimental,” Dad explains.
“But she wasn’t his next-door neighbor,” I point out harshly.
Dad and Levi turn to me. My brother shrugs and cocks a brow. “So? She wasn’t yours either, but you still asked her out.”
“I didn’t ask her out.”
It was nothing like that, as a matter of fact. I would have never been stupid enough to ask out Pepper Woods. She dated the quarterback of the football team and prom king Beau Hamilton.
Until her world fell apart.
The richest girl in town had nearly everything taken away, starting with her father’s assets after he was found guilty of fraud.
Then, three weeks before her eighteenth birthday, her parents died in a car accident just outside of town.
