Page 3 of Free to Run
Groaning, I roll into a sitting position and bring my forehead to my knees. I know I’m not solely to blame for what happened; Keene was an active participant. God, was he ever.
It can’t happen again. Despite my openness to meeting someone, I haven’t gotten laid since. It’s not like I’m saturated with chances to meet a ton of men. Most of my time is spent working as the lawyer for our wedding- and event-planning business.
Time to stop daydreaming about what Keene did with his sexy mouth and get on board with our new reality. I stand and walk toward the edge of the rugged terrain, making myself a promise that somehow, I will get past this lingering desire I have for him so I can help Cassidy settle into her new family dynamic. There has to be someone alive in this world for me to have a relationship with, where it won’t be so complicated. Where they’ll accept that I just want companionship.
And smoking hot sex.
Heading down the running trail on the opposite side of the way I came up, my legs eat up the miles at a much-faster pace on my way back to Collyer.
Toward my well-deserved and anticipated mocha.
* * *
The townof Collyer is more alive as I make my way back toward its center. Every quarter of a mile or so, I hear the toot of a horn or see a random arm shoot out to wave. When I see Ava and Matt, the owners of The Coffee Shop, roll up next to me riding Matt’s Harley, I laugh and try for a quick sprint to outrun their Hog. Matt guns it and salutes me before taking off. Knowing they’re on their way to open the place my highly anticipated mocha is located encourages me to increase my stride.
I turn down Pine Lane and run the last quarter mile at a sprint.
As my foot touches our property, my arm immediately raises for me to see the stats on my tracker. About six miles in a little over an hour and fifteen minutes, including my break on the mountain summit. I smile and slow to a walk on the lush green grass surrounding the farm.
Walking down the lane to my house, I inhale the cool morning air and admire everything we’ve worked for. About ten years ago, after we all became emancipated and decided we’d had enough of life in the South for a while, we moved to Collyer. Not long after, we went in together and bought a piece of land about a mile and a half off Main Street. It was a choice piece of real estate that ate up a good portion of our savings. Fortunately, Phil, Emily, Corinna, and Holly, the more artistic members of our family, saw the vision of what it could be.
I still cringe, remembering the look on my siblings’ faces when I told them it would take years to realize our dream. Even now, as the chief financial officer and chief counsel of Amaryllis Events, our family wedding and event planning business, I’m always the buzzkill.
Luckily for us, we got the land for a fraction of what it would have cost had it been fully developed. Over time, we’ve taken the worst-looking property in Collyer and turned it into a showplace. Our dream is a reality—one we talked about in the darkest hours before dawn when we’d hang out gorging out on junk food in our trailer in South Carolina. We dreamed of a place where we could grow old together and no one knew who we were or where we came from. Where the only thing we could see was beauty outside our window, instead of trash from the nearby trailer. And we did it. The six of us who never should have succeeded.
Leafy green Connecticut oaks towering over the drive provide shade for me to cool down as I walk back to my cottage on our property. When we renovated, we each chose our individual home site, based on the seven foundations already located on the property. My home is situated on the farthest original foundation, which backs up to an extensive tree line. When I first saw it, I imagined how gorgeous the winters would be with the view of the pines tipped with snow. I dreamed I would build my house with my bed facing the trees, so I could snuggle under the covers and enjoy the beauty on cold winter days. Also, it was the farthest back from the main farm gate. I wanted the distance when I went out to run. The location of my cottage gave me an extra half mile to warm up and cool down. Even though it was the last property left—since I encouraged my siblings to choose first—it’s the one that suited me best. I ended up with everything I wanted.
We each pooled an equal amount of money to convert the main barn, which overlooks the lake, into a communal space. It’s the center of our little village, with a restaurant-grade gourmet kitchen, gym, game room, and a living room that easily holds thirty or more, with an original stone fireplace dominating the space. The one good thing about the way we live is that we all have our own space to avoid death by sibling. At the same time, when we want to be together, we’re no more than a mile apart with plenty of space to be with each other.
As I look up at each of my family’s homes on my way in, I know they’re likely empty. It’s Saturday, and there’s a small wedding going on. Holly, my youngest sister, who’s my age at twenty-seven but younger by six months, is likely at the wedding site taking stunning photos. Phillip, our florist, and Corinna, our baker, are already at the local country club with their deliveries. Knowing my siblings as I do, I suspect Cassidy, our CEO, and Emily, our designer, will be at our offices in the event there are any last-minute catastrophes they need to handle. While I know I have the luxury of time, it’s likely minor chaos will erupt down at the office, so I decide to forego the bath and hit the shower instead.
I rarely feel like I contribute enough to this family as it is. If there’s anything I can do, I want to be around to help out.
2
Alison
Ifind myself speeding into town, narrowly avoiding an accident when I turn into the parking lot of Amaryllis Events. Waving my hand in the air where my convertible top is open, I hear a couple of beeps. Must be someone used to my crazy driving, I surmise. Glancing around the parking lot, I find Phil’s BMW, Em’s Rover, and Caleb’s Porsche. Figures the newlyweds wouldn’t be too far apart on a weekend. Grinning, I make my way up to the porch.
While Phil was the first to fall in love with Jason when they met at Candlewood Lake, the private betting pool we have within the family has Corinna going down next, due to the volume of men she dates. I mean, the odds are decent on at least one being a winner. Holly, our dreamer, always has her face glued to her camera lens, but she’s a knockout. She also hasn’t let the issues of our pasts touch her too much. I have pretty high odds as well, though I scoff at the idea of it.
Em is a more prominent possibility than Cassidy, despite her refusal to date any man seriously. She’s the quintessential ice princess. Sadly, each guy wants to break the frost around her heart.
None of us, especially Cassidy, ever thought she would be able to let go of her past to date, let alone fall in love. I consider it a miracle that about nine months after they first met, Cass and Caleb were married and expecting their first baby.
I decide to run inside to see if anyone needs anything before I walk to The Coffee Shop. Cass, Phil, and Em are most likely hanging around inside the mansion we converted into our offices to make sure nothing needs their personal touch for the reception scheduled at eleven this morning. I know Corinna will head back to her bed the minute she’s done delivering the wedding cake she spent most of the night decorating.
Swinging open the stained-glass door, I hear Phil and Em bickering from the direction of her design space.
Em’s area is flooded with natural sunlight streaming in through her bay window. Filled with jewel tones and littered with pillows made of every color and texture imaginable, beautiful stained-glass dream catchers capture the sunlight, throwing bright colors around the room as you walk in. Antique art deco posters decorate the walls. This room is Em’s soul in living color, the part of her that no one but family gets to see.
It’s here I find Phil and Jason lounging against the pillows on the floor. Cassidy—probably ordered by her husband, Caleb—is lying on Em’s chaise, with him on the floor by her feet. Mugsy, Em’s elderly rescue dog, woofs a welcome.
Em looks up from where she’s passing out cups from The Coffee Shop when I walk in. Her dark blue eyes widen in surprise when she sees me. “What are you doing here?”
I saunter over to her. “Nice greeting, Em. Did you get me one?” I wonder if they saw my text and guessed I’d want to celebrate with chocolate. “How did you know I’d come by?”
Uncomfortably, Em ducks her head. “Actually, I didn’t. I’m sorry, Ali. We figured you’d be enjoying your day off.” She tips her head at Cassidy, who’s sipping her standard cappuccino—now decaf due to the baby—with an expression of pure bliss. “Cass bet that there was no way you’d come in since you weren’t scheduled.”
