Page 94 of The Jilted Lovers Club
“It couldn’t hurt,” I say. “We could use everyone and everything we can to take Lahoma Springs out of Alexander’s hands.”
That night, Ashton and I settle into bed together, exhausted but thoroughly happy. I haven’t felt this complete in ages, and being here makes me realize that California never stopped feeling like home to me. Maybe I just needed a break from it to come to my senses. New York will always be special to me. It’s the place where I finished my healing, and where I found myself after something cracked my joy. But now, I feel full, like the circle is complete. It makes me think that this could be a chance for something new in my life. Maybe losing my career is the opportunity I need to find my life.
We fall asleep in each other’s arms and when we wake, I’m still against him, his arm wrapped around me and my legs entwined with his. Lottie’s awake, and we bring her to bed with us, cuddling with each other as if we’re a family. It feels like a family. I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life, being with Ashton and watching Lottie grew older.
This is what it feels like to be a complete unit. Nothing feels more important than this.
The People’s Place
Jordy
We spend the next few days at the ranch, just enjoying each other’s company. Nina threatens to hold a family dinner, like the ones she’s been holding over the past year as a way to heal her rift with her mom. I appreciate the gesture, but tell her that if she invites my mom to the ranch, I’m going to redecorate her home in dark gray and black.
My cousin is not one who enjoys a muted palate. From her electric blue hair to her wildly vibrant clothes, Nina is an explosion of color—and my threat is enough to keep our moms out of this private party.
Besides, my mom and I are fine. She’s a pain in my ass, and I can’t tell her anything I don’t want used against me. And sure, I’ll probably hyperventilate again when we drive back up through Santa Barbara—but this is how it always is, and always will be. I’ve grown to accept it, and that is as good as it’s going to get.
It’s also good to be around Brayden, seeing him as Nina’s husband and Juniper’s dad. Even though I’ve been over him for a long time ago, there’s still this part of me that stings at the fact he chose my cousin over me. It has this bitter taste of rejection that sours my mood every now and then.
But watching them together now, it’s clear they have something we never did. Seeing him with his daughter heals something in me. Yes, there’s a dull ache surrounding my heart—I realize it will always be there—but the way he looks at June, the way both he and Nina love that little girl … it’s like our story didn’t end in vain. It simply opened the door for a better one.
And not just his story. Mine too.
I knew this trip would be healing no matter what, but it’s so much better having Ashton with me. There’s this quiet way about him. I just have to look at him, and it’s like he knows what I’m thinking. I love that he understands all the complicated feelings I’ve brought with me on this trip—from my trauma around babies to my broken engagement—and he keeps checking in to make sure I’m okay. Sometimes, it’s just a touch of a hand and a look asking,do you need a minute?If he’s not next to me, he’s always nearby, catching my eye to gauge how I’m doing. Even when he’s busy with Lottie, I know he’s very aware of me.
I love the feel of his protection, how in tune he is with my emotions.
“I can’t believe you have to go,” Nina moans. The boys are busy loading up the truck while the two of us hold our girls. Lottie clings to me, fighting sleep as she rests against my chest. We prolonged naptime for as long as we could, hoping she’d fall asleep as soon as we hit the road. Judging by her quietness, it’s a safe bet she will.
“I know. It feels like I just got here.”
“Any thoughts on what happens next?” Nina glances at Ashton, then back at me.
It’s a loaded question. I have a lot of thoughts—about Ashton. About New York. About Lahoma. About where I am, and where I want to be.
But I can’t say any of them out loud. Not yet.
“Not quite,” I say. “For now, I’m just taking it a day at a time.”
She leans forward to kiss my cheek, then takes my free hand in hers. “Well, keep me posted, okay? And don’t be a stranger, please? You haven’t even left yet, and I already miss you. I don’t want to go weeks without talking to you.”
“Careful,” I say, squeezing her hand, “I might just call you every day, and spam you photos of this little one.”
Nina raises an eyebrow. “That sounds like a decision,” she says, her eyes narrowing with a smile.
I just shrug, though I’m biting back my own smile.
“I have a lot of photos on my phone.”
We reach Lahoma Springs by dinnertime. Bec and Bob texted now and then while we were away, but it was brief little updates, nothing significant. When we see Bec beaming from the front porch as we pull in, I realize she’s been holding back.
“Mac and Clyve found the crack,” she says, jumping up and down as we get out of the truck. We talked to Mac on the phone while in Sunset Bay, and connected him with Clyve. The two of them had been working round the clock for the past few days, and apparently found some kind of breakthrough.
Over dinner, she fills us in completely. The property came with a concession that any new buyer had to be from Lahoma Springs.
“But Alexander is from Lahoma,” I say. Bec shakes her head.
“He claimed he was, but he’s not. He must have known about the restriction and pretended to live here. But he grew up in Wisconsin…” she pauses, then gives us a meaningful look. “…in a town called Maisieville.”
