Page 1 of Coming Home Country
Chapter 1
Bex
“Fouryearsatthefirm, and you haven’t taken so much as a sick day, let alone a vacation—not for lack of begging on my part to take you on one—but you’ll drop everything to head to the middle of nowhere for a wedding?”
“Aspen’s my best friend, and I’m the maid of honor,” I explained for the millionth time in the past four months.
“You get two weeks paid vacation a year, Rebecca.”
Thankfully, my back was turned as I zipped my suitcase, so he couldn’t see my eye roll. He’d insisted on using my full legal name from the start, saying it was more professional than the childhood nickname my late father had given me before he died.
Guess it was par for the course. Bex was my past. Rebecca was my future.
“What’s it going to take to convince you to let me spoil you a little bit? You work too hard.”
Aaron had made partner by the time he hit thirty and couldn’t understand how much harder I was forced to work as a woman to earn thatdistinction for myself. As a junior associate at the law firm of Brooks and Andrews, I spent more nights crashing in my office than I did at home.
Did I voluntarily take on a higher caseload than my peers? You bet your ass I did. Being in a relationship with a partner, I didn’t want it to look as though I was sleeping my way to the top.
Not that it mattered to anyone, but Aaron had pursued me. Quite aggressively. For months, he’d begged to take me out, but each time, I politely declined. I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend. Especially one who needed to be disclosed to HR.
When I buried my head in my case files, burning the midnight oil at the office, he changed tactics, bringing takeout and churning through them with me. He gave up his free evenings to sit and wade through what equated to grunt work in the law world—when he’d already paid his dues—just to spend time with me. And he always made sure to escort me home afterward since Chicago in the middle of the night wasn’t the safest of places for an unaccompanied woman.
So, I’d given him a chance. And here we were three years later, our lives completely intertwined. We lived together, we worked together, and now we were engaged to be married.
“Here’s what I don’t get.” Apparently, my silence had been an invitation for him to continue his tirade about my taking time off in a way that wasn’t all about him. “Blaze comes from one of the wealthiest families in the country. This wedding should be the society event of the year. But instead, they’re getting married on a ranch? With, like, fifty people on the guest list?”
Yes, my best friend was marrying Macallan Blaze, a billionaire who was also formerly the most eligible bachelor in America. But he wasn’t the stereotypical prick you’d expect of someone with that kind of bank. His family might own the largest hotel conglomerate in the world, but hedidn’t work in their corporate offices. Instead, he was at the tail end of his training to become a firefighter. He wanted to make a real difference in the lives of others.
A smile touched my lips, knowing how his entire life had changed when he met Aspen.
She’d brought Mac home for Christmas a few years back, and he fell in love with her and our hometown of Rust Canyon in tandem.
It was on the tip of my tongue to spit back a snarky retort about money not being everything, but I knew it would fall on deaf ears.
Pulling the zipper on my carry-on, I turned to find Aaron stepping out of his walk-in closet, affixing cufflinks to his shirt sleeves.
“You sure you don’t want to take a week off and come down early with me?”
An unimpressed snort sounded, and he didn’t bother to look up as he replied, “Spend a full ten days in bumblefuck Oklahoma? No, thanks.”
“Hey!” The sharp bite in my tone had his head snapping up, an eyebrow arched. “You don’t get to talk bad about where I come from.”
Turning his back to me, Aaron grabbed his suit jacket from where it lay over the edge of the chaise lounge in the master suite. As he shrugged it on, he shot back, “Yeah, well, there’s a reason you’ve never gone back.”
He was right about one thing: I hadn’t returned to my hometown since I was eighteen.
But he had no clue as to why.
I’d pushed it to the back of my mind, locked it up tight, but there was no hiding from it anymore. Going home meant facing my demons. Even a decade later, the memory of why I left had the hot stab of betrayal slicing through my insides, the pain of it stealing my breath away.
That was almost enough for me to call this whole thing off. Cancel my plane ticket and tell Aspen I just couldn’t do it. She would understand.She’d been there when my world fell apart without warning, offering a shoulder to cry on before helping me pick up the pieces and start over.
But this was her wedding. As little girls, we’d hung pillowcases from the back of our heads more times than I could count, pretending they were veils, imagining this day. As teens, we’d poured over bridal catalogs, picking out dress styles and flower arrangements. Aspen’s groom remained faceless, but by then, I already knew who I was going to marry.
Boy, was I wrong.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, strengthening my resolve. I could do this. It was only ten days, and then I never had to go back, effectively closing that chapter of my life forever.
