Page 11 of Home to You
The realization hit me like a blow, stealing my breath and making me grip the counter for support. I’d loved other people since Jake—or at least, I thought I had.
Hell, I’d built a whole life with someone else, convinced myself I’d moved on and found what I’d been searching my whole life for.
But Richard and I never had what Jake and I had. We’d never shared that bone-deep connection, that sense of coming home to each other. What I’d mistaken for compatibility had really just been … settling. Two people who looked good together on paper, who, in theory, checked each other’s boxes but never really touched each other’s souls.
In one summer, Jake Mercer had ruined me for anyone else, and I’d been too afraid to admit it until now.
I sank into a kitchen chair, the tea cooling in my hands as tears I hadn’t expected started to fall. Not sad tears, exactly, but something more complicated—grief for the years we’d lost, butunderneath that, a dangerous flutter of hope I didn’t know what to do with.
Because if there really hadn’t been anyone else who mattered … what did that mean now? Was it too late for us? Had too much time passed, too much hurt accumulated?
Or was tonight the beginning of a second chance I never thought I’d get?
I thought about Cole, about how easily he’d accepted me into his world, how he talked about his mom without the weight of romantic loss attached to her memory. I thought about Jake today, the way he’d apologized, the genuine concern in his eyes when he’d asked about the parts of my life that hadn’t been good.
He wasn’t the same young man I’d left behind. He was a father now, and had been through loss and heartbreak and responsibility in ways that had clearly shaped him. And I wasn’t the same young woman who’d run scared from commitment and small-town life.
The clock in the hallway chimed three times, and I finally forced myself back to bed, though I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. Tomorrow, I’d have to face Jake again at school pickup, and I’d have to look him in the eye knowing that everything he’d told me had rearranged everything I thought I understood about who I was and what I wanted from my life.
I didn’t know what I’d say to him, or even if I’d have the courage to say anything at all. But as I finally drifted toward sleep, one thought kept circling back: what if it’s not too late? What if running away had been a mistake, but coming back was the beginning of finally getting it right?
CHAPTER SIX
I woke up panting,my heart thundering in my chest, and the sheets a tangled mess around my legs. I took a moment to come fully awake, realizing as I did that my sheets were soaked with cum.
Two seconds ago, I’d been on my stomach in the bed of my truck parked up on a ridge on our property, Eden’s dress hiked up around her hips, my shoulders bracing her thighs wide and my mouth lapping at her cunt. Her fingers were tangled in my hair as she moaned my name, and told me to make her see stars. The dream version of me had come in his jeans like a trigger-happy teenager when she whispered that she missed the way I took care of her.
“Christ,” I murmured, dragging my hands down my face as my dick gave a slight twitch at the memory of her voice in myhead.That’s it, Jake. Oh fuck. Right there. Don’t stop. You know just what I like.
With a groan, I threw the sheets off and pushed to my feet, yanking them free from my mattress and tossing them in the hamper on my way to the shower, muttering a curse as I twisted the water on. It had been almost twenty years since this had happened to me, but I’d spent so long repressing my memories of that summer with Eden that it was no wonder this was how they were coming back to me.
By midmorning, I was out at the barn clearing space for all the fundraiser stuff Eden would be dropping off later. I’d spread new straw over the floors to cut down on dust, but it was still a dirty task. When I’d volunteered the barn for the school’s annual fundraiser, I hadn’t truly known what I was getting myself into. But I’d wanted my son to be welcome at Wild Ridge Academy, where his teachers would actually make an effort to address his needs, so I’d used every tool in my arsenal—including bribery.
Growing up, this space had been the heart of community gatherings—Mom had insisted on it. She’d organized dances every summer, wedding receptions for half the county, and harvest celebrations that went on until dawn. The woman had a gift for bringing people together, and she’d made sure this old building stayed ready for whatever the community needed. But after she died, and then Dad a few years later, my brothers and I had just … stopped. We’d kept the structure maintained, of course, but it mostly sat empty except for storage and the occasional overflow of farm equipment. It felt strange now, preparing it for people again, like I was trying to channel some of Bettina Mercer’s old magic.
Gage wandered in halfway through, an apple in one hand and a baseball cap flipped around backward on his head. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around at all the work I’d done this morning instead of the ranch chores I should have been doing.
“Eden’s dropping fundraiser supplies off later,” I said, stacking a bale of hay against the far wall.
Gage was quiet for a moment, chewing his snack thoughtfully. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Jake?”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
“Come on. You have to recognize you’ve been different ever since she came back to town. Walking around in a daze half the time, the other …” He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Like you’re waiting for her to want to pick things back up where you left off.” He took another bite of his apple. “Just … be careful, okay? Cole’s gotten attached to his teacher, and if things go sideways?—”
“Nothing’s going sideways,” I said, my voice firm.
He chuckled wryly. “Famous last words, brother.”
I shot him a look. “Are you going to help me, or what?”
“Sure thing.” Gage crunched into his apple, examined it while he chewed, and then tossed it into the garbage bin. “What do you need?”
“Help me move these feed sacks to the other side. And we need to sweep out that back corner. Looks like mice might have been there at some point.”
Truth was, I didn’t actually need his help. What I needed was something to do with my hands, something to keep my mind occupied … especially after this morning’s incredibly vivid dream. Because every time I pictured her walking into this barn, I got hard again.
I needed to get a fucking grip on my libido.
