Page 11 of Tangled Vows

Being a freshman, she wasn’t permitted to have a car on campus and had to rely on our father and stepbrother to take her back and forth when she wanted to come home for a visit. When Brody had a home game, Dad expected her to stay and go with him and Phoebe, his wife, to watch him play. She had no choice but to go along with it since he paid for everything. He’d practically forced her to go to the same school as Brody despite her protestations. But he had the money, so he controlled everything. And I fucking resented him for it.

Shoving down those feelings, I focused on the here and now. I wanted to spend time with my baby sister. We hadn’t been able to catch up lately, and I wanted to know all about how school was going. We texted every day, but it wasn’t the same as binging rom-coms until the wee hours of the morning like we used to.

“How about some fresh strawberries to go on the top?” Makenna said as I snagged the last jar of chocolate fudge off the shelf.

“Sure,” I agreed easily. I never turned down fresh berries.

We were deep in conversation about the latest drama overtaking Makenna’s chess club when we rounded the end cap and came to a screeching halt.

“Shit,” I hissed, catching sight of a tall, familiar frame and mop of perfectly tousled dark hair. What the hell washedoing here?

I attempted to turn the buggy around so I could escape before he saw me, but the wheel that had become the bane of my existence chose that very moment to lock up. Frantically, I tried to wiggle it free, but it refused to budge.

“Shay, what’s wrong?”

“I’m stuck,” I growled as sweat beaded on my brow. The last thing I wanted was to see the flawlessly handsome hockey star while wearing stained sweatpants, my mom’s old D.A.R.E. t-shirt, no makeup and three-day old hair tossed into a messy bun.

“Shay,” Makenna repeated, voice laced with trepidation.

“Just a sec,” I said as I continued to struggle with dislodging the locked wheel. Finally, with one sharp tug, it broke loose. Then to my horror, it went careening into a display, and I watched helplessly as an avalanche of shiny red apples began to roll and tumble off the edge before pooling at my feet. I stood frozen, mouth agape as I stared at the pile of fruit.

“Are you stalking me?” My head shot up, and my eyes met familiar hazel ones, alight with amusement.

“What? No!” I screeched, squatting to pick up the pile of fruit that was likely now bruised and unsellable.

And maybe to hide my face which was surely as red as said apples.

He chuckled. The son of a bitchchuckled.

“Then how do you keep showing up where I’m at?” he asked as he kneeled in front of me to scoop up several apples and place them back on the display. They really shouldn’t have piled them so high. It was like they were asking for someone to accidentally knock them over.

I chanced a glance at Easton, and he cocked his brow skeptically in challenge. To be fair, this was only the third time that had happened. The night we met,Iwas there first. The second time around, I had no idea my friends would choose the same bar he’d be at with Mariah Stevenson. I swallowed hard,forcing down the jealousy that still welled in my chest when I thought about them together.

“Wh-what are you even doing here?” I sputtered, shaking away those thoughts. Surely he’d rather do his shopping at one of the big chain stores in Richmond, not at this little mom and pop grocery store that had probably been owned by the same family for the last century.

He glanced around, holding up a hand to wave in the general vicinity of the store.

“Grocery shopping,” he answered. The “duh” was implied. I huffed and rolled my eyes.

“I mean, what are you doing in Willow Brook Falls?” Standing with my arms full of produce, I turned to drop them back on the display. Easton followed my lead, his arms loaded down as well.

“I live here,” he replied, and my mouth fell open in surprise. The apples slipped from my grasp, several of them falling to the floor in a heap. If they hadn’t been ruined before, they surely were now. He chuckled again, and the sound went straight through me. I balled my fists and gritted my teeth.

“Why areyouhere?” he asked, enjoying my displeasure a little too much.

“Ilive here,” I ground out. “Have all my life.” There. I staked my claim on this town. I belonged here. He was just an interloper. A distractingly gorgeous interloper.

“Well, I guess we’d better get used to seeing each other around,Neighbor.”

10

SHAYLA

The day I’d been dreading was finally here. I had to talk to my father about Mom’s diagnosis. After crunching some numbers and reviewing Mom’s treatment plan, it was clear I needed to bite the bullet and ask for his help. Adding some cooking classes to my already full-time schedule wasn’t going to cut it. Neither was the measly amount I made from my social media accounts where I posted nutrition and cooking content.

I wasn’t delusional enough to think my father would give us the money out of the kindness of his heart, but I thought maybe he could be persuaded to grant me my inheritance early. He was the executor of my late grandfather’s will and trust. And there was a nice little nest egg sitting in an account somewhere just waiting for me.

Unfortunately, I couldn't access it until I was thirty or got married, whichever came first. However, my father had the power to release the funds to me early at his discretion. I needed that money to help my mother pay for her treatments. Her only other option was to take out a second mortgage on the house and even then I wasn’t sure it would be enough. She could barelyafford the monthly payments on her current medical bills, and those were about to double.

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