Page 1 of Rugged Guardian

CHAPTER 1

ANGELICA

Ipush my cart down the cereal aisle, scanning the shelves for the familiar blue box of granola my brother used to love. It’s strange being back in King Mountain after all these years—it feels like home, yet it also doesn’t. The grocery store is new and bright, replacing the one I remember growing up that always smelled like floor cleaner, even though the linoleum always looked dingy.

My smile is wistful as I find the granola and pluck it off the shelf.

“Angelica? Is that you?” a voice calls out as I toss it into my cart.

I turn and see a woman staring at me. It takes me a moment to place her, but my smile grows when I do. “Megan! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages!” I exclaim as we hug awkwardly.

We used to be inseparable before I left Jefferson when I lost touch with most of my friends here. Megan looks almost the same, though she has a few more lines around her eyes and a softness to her features.

“Seriously, I can’t believe it’s you. What brings you back to Jefferson? Are you here for...” Megan trails off with a meaningful look.

I know exactly what she’s asking. It doesn’t take a psychic to know who she means. Waylon. My heart clenches, but I quickly push all thoughts of him aside. “I’m here to handle some family business,” I say with intentional vagueness. Do I want to see Waylon? More than I have words to describe. Does he want to see me? Who knows? I’ve never gotten over the hurt of losing him all those years ago, and I’m not even sure that coming back here was a good idea.

Megan nods, seeming to understand. “I see. Well, I’m sure happy to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. Busy with work, mostly.” I shrug, trying to sound casual.

Her smile is nostalgic. “Yeah, I know how that goes. Though I don’t work anymore. Since Bill and I had kids, I stay home with them. Can you believe I have a son in middle school?”

“That’s wonderful, Megan. I’m so happy for you.” I genuinely am, though I experience a pang of jealousy for the family life she seems to have.

It’s not like I haven’t had relationships, but no man has ever compared to Waylon, even though it’s been nearly twenty years since we dated. I know it’s ridiculous to carry a torch for him for so long, but his love is imprinted on my heart. No man could make me forget the intensity of the love Waylon and I shared in high school.

As Megan and I make our way to the checkout lanes, the conversation flows easier than I expected as we chat about old times. The initial awkwardness was us taking a moment to find the same footing we had so many years ago. Now, it seems like only days since we talked to each other as we joke and catch up. Seeing her reminds me that whatever happened in the past, I’m home again.

Megan chuckles. “I remember when we used to sneak out and drive up to King Mountain to watch the stars.”

I laugh as the memory warms me. “Yeah, those were the days. I miss that freedom and ease.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, but as we approach the registers, I spot him—Waylon King. He’s with a big, tattooed man in a motorcycle jacket, casually tossing several boxes of tampons and pads into their basket along with shampoo, conditioner, and other feminine products. It seems like a lot, but if he has a wife and they’re living up on the mountain, it makes sense that he’s buying in bulk, so he doesn’t have to come down often.

I glance at his hand, pausing when I don’t see a wedding ring. But that doesn’t mean he’s not married. Right?

Of course he has a wife. How foolish is it to think otherwise?

Megan nudges me and winks before excusing herself. “It was great seeing you, Ang. Let’s catch up soon.”

“Definitely,” I reply, though my attention is now wholly focused on Waylon.

The world tilts as his dark eyes meet mine. They hold a depth that wasn’t there when we were kids. A rush of emotions threatens to overwhelm me—love, hurt, longing. He looks so familiar but also more mature and handsome, especially with his thick beard. It almost hurts to see him because it’s painfully clear how much time has passed.

“What are you doing here?” Waylon asks bluntly, his surprise evident.

The man he’s with looks between me and Waylon. “Sorry to interrupt. Did we get everything?”

Waylon blinks and reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of cash. “Yeah, we did. Pay up, and I’ll meet you out at the truck. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Sure thing, man.” The guy looks at me with open curiosity before pushing the cart into the cashier’s lane and unloading everything for the cashier.

Waylon turns back to me, and the air between us charges. I don’t think I could walk away even if I wanted to. He looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him, but his expression isn’t a happy one.

I muster up a flirty smile, trying to hide my nerves. “This shouldn’t be a surprise. If you remember, I called you.”

That call was short and incredibly awkward, with me telling Waylon I was returning to Jefferson and King Mountain for a visit and hoping we could see each other. All he did was grunt, not commit to anything, and abruptly end the call.

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