Page 39 of Hating the Book Boyfriend

"I don't think he got that far." The perplexed look on my face is question enough, and he nods toward the table. "He left his phone, and my truck is still in the driveway. Which means he's on foot."

"I know where he's at,” I slam my hands down on the countertop.

He tosses the keys that were laying on the far end of the counter. "Take the truck."

CHAPTER 21

JoJo

As I sit on the bench staring at the lake where Colton and I first met, I can't help but believe I royally screwed things up beyond repair. I was confident when I left the house I'd find him here. This lake sits halfway between our front doors. Technically our properties butt up next to each other, but that's on the back half. There are at least two miles between us walking from his front door to mine, with two houses in between. "You freaking write romance books, Josephine! You should have run out the front door and groveled. Instead, you floundered, and now you're alone on a bench." As I wallow in my regrets, the wind rolls in, and the sound of a horse's neigh can be heard trailing its departure through the trees. The neighbors don't have horses. They don't have the land for them. "Colton took Beau and rode to his property." I rush off the bench with a renewed pep in my step.

I'm pulling down the driveway when I remember Archie telling me that Colton was staying with us and not at his place because he rented it out and there were guests occupying it. I think quick and pull down the gravel road that leads to the oldbarn and park so that it's out of sight. I'm not trying to make a scene. I just need to find Colton. He needs to hear my truth, and if he still wants to hate me, so be it. As I walk up the trail between the trees, I don't see any cars in the driveway or Beau. "Of course you would hear a neigh that didn't exist," I mumble, but as I stand in place ready to turn around and go home a distinct nicker catches my ear and I know it's Beau. My feet carry me through the woods as I make my way to the back of the house, where I find Beau tied up to one of the stone pillars on the downstairs back patio. "Hey, buddy," I say softly as I look around for Colton and come up empty. "Where did Colton go?" I pat his back as a sliver of worry starts to take root. What if he's hurt? That's when I notice the back door is cracked open.

I take the liberty of entering without an invitation, and when I do, I almost regret it. The place is dark, and I don't know my way around well enough. I hate dark houses. They give me the creeps. The only reason I allow my feet to carry me further is I know Colton is somewhere inside. I've only been inside this house a handful of times growing up, and when I had, it was only upstairs in the foyer that overlooked the great room. A dim light at the far end of the room highlights a staircase.

The second I reach the foyer, the picturesque setting before me has me slipping out of my boots so I don’t track in dirt. The entire room upstairs has been redone since I last saw this place. The deep, rich tones of the cedar beams have been whitewashed, white porcelain with golden veins has replaced the wood floors, and every piece of furniture is now stark white. The only color remaining is the gray stone fireplace in the center of the A-frame windows that look over the valley. Walking further into the space, I trail my hand over the back of the white leather sofa. It's not my style, and I'm not sure it reflects Colton's either, but I'd be remiss not to say it's striking. The sun setting triggers the dusk-to-dawn lighting on, and I startle, knocking over a crystalvase on the sofa table next to the leather couch I was admiring. My hands cover my mouth as shards of crystal cover the floor.

"Josephine," Colton says my name in surprise from somewhere behind me.

"I didn't mean to.” I start to apologize. I’m mid turn when I stop, not wanting to step on the splintered pieces of crystal all around me. "The lights came on and?—"

I'm swooped into his arms before I can finish my apology, and for a split second, all is right again as he holds me in his arms, but it's over just as fast as it happened when he sets me down on the kitchen countertop.

"What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? You left and didn't give me a chance to explain my side. You don't get to forget me, Colton Callahan," I throw his words back at him, and he crosses his arms and quirks a brow. His dark studied gaze holds mine and erases all the words I had. Damn it. "I thought people were staying here? Wasn't that your excuse for staying at the farm?" He rolls his eyes and starts to walk away. "Colton wait, please. I'm just nervous and trying hard not to mess this up… well, at least not any more than I already have. You're important to me." Unlike earlier when he left me standing in the kitchen, he stops, but he doesn't turn back around. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but before I start, just know I was never withholding information to spite you or use you in any way." I let out a long breath of resolve, letting my lips trill on the expel. "I'm a romance author." I roll my head from side to side. "I mean... I use that title loosely. I'm not really sure hitting publish on a manuscript earns that title. If it's books sold, I'm nowhere near close, but for the past two years, I've been publishing books under the pen name J. Estes. Some days it feels like all I have to show for it is a mountain of debt from the cost of publishing a book people will want to read. That debt is why I participated inthe polar plunge at the hotel. I haven't been taking a salary from the farm." His head turns in my direction, but not entirely. I'll take it though. He's listening. "Archie doesn't know but I've been taking my salary and putting it back into the farm. For the past few years I hadn't felt like I was pulling enough weight as him to warrant taking money away from the business. It's why I wanted the winnings. They helped me pay off my publishing debts from my last book. Those debts are the same reason the message you saw came across my phone."

He holds up his hand. "I don't need to hear anymore. You know the scandal I went through this past summer. She used me. Just because your why is different doesn't make it better. If you cared at all, you'd never stoop that low." His fists clench at his sides before he adds. "Forgetting doesn't mean it's what we want. Sometimes it's what's required to survive." His eyes meet mine. "I thought the girl I was falling for fell back," his voice cracks, and somehow, my shattered heart splinters more. "But the girl I knew, the one I met beside the lake never would have hit that low."

I jump off the counter. "I didn't use you, Colton. If you would just hear me out, you'd see that." His chest heaves and the rage building inside of him is on the verge of spiraling out of control. "We started a book-boyfriend-building business on a whim. It was a half-cocked idea formed after one too many stiff cocktails. It was started to help men get out of their own way, land the girl, and live their happily ever after. When the girls discovered Boston's most eligible bachelor was my brother's best friend, and the same guy I was snowed in with, more hair-brained ideas emerged. But I shut it down. I told them you weren't looking for a girlfriend, and I wasn't offering to find you one. They knew you were never on the table, but Colton, they are some of my closest friends. We talk in some fashion every day. They knew things were happening between us, and they can be unhinged. We don'thold back when it comes to the jokes. The message you saw this morning was a continuation of them giving me flack. Stories like Jacob's and Avery's are great for business, but?—"

"Wait… What do you mean by stories like Jacob's? You used him too?" He rubs his jaw pissed on Jacob's behalf.

"No. Jacob signed up for my help. I helped him find the courage to ask Avery out. I didn't lie when I told you I was helping Jacob land a date…" I fidget with my nails. "I just left off the part about him paying me for it." He's quiet, and when I risk looking up at him to decipher his thoughts, his glare gives nothing away before he stomps across the kitchen. I follow after him, determined not to let him walk away from me again. "You still don't believe me? You still think I'm lying? What happened to not running when things get hard?" I demand, following hot on his heels straight into the pantry, where he turns to me with a broom and dustpan in hand.

"I'm not running. I'm cleaning up your mess," he says, not bothering to downplay the double meaning of his words.

"Right…" I step out of the way and gesture for him to go around me, which he does. "Do you believe me?"

I stand beside the Christmas tree as I watch him sweep up the crystal shards across the room.

"I need time to think, Josephine."

I wait to see if he'll say more, and when he doesn't, I ask, "Well, can we think in the same room? I don't want to leave unless it's with you. If I walk out that door, I'm scared you might not open it again."

I'm sure he hears the ache in my voice, but it doesn't stop his scornful laugh before he says, "If you recall, I never opened it to begin with. You all but helped yourself to my hotel room, one I didn't offer up willingly, and now here you are yet again, walking into my house as if it is yours."

His words sting because they are true. I'm not innocent in this mess. I knew the risks, and still, I took them. When it's all said and done, I gave him my truth, and that's all I can do. You can't make someone stay. I swallow my pain and step toward the door in acceptance that tonight I don't get the guy. Only to step on another pile of hurt. Literally. "Ouch," I say as I lift my foot to find the sharp piece that penetrated my sock.

"Posey," I hear him hiss before he's helping me to the couch.

"I'm fine. It's not serious," I argue as he pulls off my sock.

His big hands engulf my foot as he drops to one knee and examines my pad. "You're not bleeding." He says before his fingers gently skim over my skin making my toes curl.

"That tickles," I try to pull my foot away, but he holds it firm as our eyes connect.

"I was just making sure there wasn't a sliver I couldn't see."

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