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“Jason?”
My eyes lift to find the concerned gaze of the minister. I reply, “Yeah? God.” Knowing the crimes I’ve committed, I can’t honestly say I carried God with me.
He pats me on the back again. “We should talk sometime.”
“Okay.”
“Good to have you back.”
“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” I’m an expert at giving the appropriate responses. Although this time, I’ve already found some peace in this one. I’m not sure if Solace Pointe is where I belong, but I’m beginning to want to stay.
8
Delilah
I’m being ridiculous.
I set the prom photo back in the shoebox and put the lid on. Tucking it in the back of my closet, I shake my head at myself. Why am I nervous? Why am I giving hope room to grow? I have so many thoughts about what happened, and they’re muddling together as if to form a new scenario.
How?
He didn’t love me any longer. That much was clear. So why does he want to see me, to talk to me now? More importantly, why did I invite him over for dinner? I know. I roll my eyes at myself. This is a big mistake, one that I could have avoided.
Damn Jason Koster, that cute grin, and the way his voice hums through my body, touching parts of me I thought would never be reawakened again. I always was a sucker for him.
I slip on a pair of flats and then stop to check my outfit in the mirror before dabbing a bit more gloss on my lips. My makeup is light but pretty, my dress cotton and cool for the warm day, and my legs freshly shaven.
Wait, what?
I roll my eyes again and walk away from the mirror with visions of his face years ago coming back like a torpedo. Much like his approach today.
If I’d really looked at him that day, I could’ve seen how broken he was. He promised me we’d be fine, but that was a lie. Jason had no way of keeping that promise, much less making it. I thought he loved me as much as I loved him, but clearly, I was wrong. Someone who loves you wouldn’t make a decision about your future without consulting his or her partner.
Partner.
That’s the problem. I wasn’t a partner in that relationship. I was only a girl holding him back. Taking a deep breath, I try to rid my mind of that memory and the pain I still feel to this day. I grab my phone, head out onto the front porch, and call my sister. I need a new perspective or a reminder of how bad things were.
After texting her earlier about Jason, it doesn’t surprise me when Shelby answers right away. “Hey, sis.”
“Why do you have to live so far away?”
She laughs, but it’s light as both of us are well aware of the reason. “Are you nervous or excited?”
“I’m undecided how to feel about him. On the one hand—”
“Oh, here we go.”
“Hush. It’s true. He hurt me, and that pain is tangible even now, and it has been four years.”
“But?”
“I’m getting there. But he does look good, even better than I remember, and more charming if that’s even possible.” Smelled amazing too, just like he used to. I was tempted to touch that clean-shaven jaw of his, to run the tips of my fingers over the veins in his hands as he gripped my door like I’d escape if he didn’t. He was intense. Determined. On a mission. Powerful. I struggle to swallow, remembering how imposing his body was, and how he leaned in, leaving me no room to say no. I wasn’t scared. God, it was hot. I start fanning myself with—
“Jason Koster could charm a porcupine out of its needles. Your panties never stood a chance.”
“Stop teasing.” I’d like to argue her point, but she’s right on the money. I won’t tell her that, though. She’ll hold it over me because Jason was everything—handsome, charismatic, talented, intelligent, and sexier than any man ever should be. But I thought I was his everything as well, and I wasn’t. So what do I know? “Did you book your flight?”
“Yep. You have one week to clean the house and get that farm back in order.” She laughs. “Do you have a few minutes to go over invoices?”
The sound of tires grinding against the gravel driveway alerts me to a visitor. “Actually, he’s here, so I need to go. We can go over them tomorrow.”
“Call me then and don’t sleep with him tonight.”
“What? There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping with Jason. If that’s what he thinks he’s getting for dinner, he’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“How much do you want to wager?”
“I am not sleeping with that man, Shelby.”
“All right. All right,” she replies incredulously. “One of your homemade pies?”
“I’m not sleeping with him.” She’s ridiculous. “Fine. I’ll wager a pie.”
