Page 8 of Sugar
“No, it doesn’t,” she says firmly. “It has nothing to do with you. It just . . . helps me with a little problem I have. That’s all.”
I let out a heavy breath. “This is fucking crazy. We can’t just get married.”
She shrugs. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Then say goodbye to the ranch, Kasey.” She stands, as if to leave. I watch her pull her damp purse over her shoulder and walk back toward the front door.
“How long?” I ask when she reaches for the knob.
She turns to look at me, eyes glinting. The challenge in them is as familiar as the smell of her perfume in the air. She lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug before crossing her arms over her chest. “Not long. Just until the deed to the ranch is officially in your name. We’d have to be careful not to let anyone think it’s fraud?—”
“Because it is,” I interject.
“Sure. Yeah. But I’m confident we can figure out how to make it all look real.” Her lips quirk in a small smile, and another dart of anger pierces through me.
One upon a time, Ava was the single most important thing that mattered to me. My entire life revolved around making her happy and praying like hell I could keep her forever. She was my first love, my first . . . everything. And now she wants to use that history all these years later to get something. And the worst part is she won’t even tell me what it is.
“Look, you have to tell me what you get out of this or I won’t do it.”
The statement throws her off, her chest rising with a deep breath. “Fine. But not now. Like I said, it’s complicated and requires some time to explain. But I’ll tell you anything you want to know before we seal the deal, okay?”
I nod once. “Fine.” We stare at each other, neither of us making any moves. After a while I ask, “So what happens next?”
A small smile returns, that challenge firing back to life. “Now, we tell everyone the good news and make sure they believe it.” She winks, and then turns to walk out the door, back into the rain.
CHAPTER THREE
AVA
Even with the heavy downpour, it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to grab my phone from its magnetic mount and chuck it through the window of my Range Rover. A stack of notifications a mile long glares at me from the homescreen, most of them labeled with Tobias’s name. Even with the shit emoji I added to his contact before leaving Miami, it’s hard to fight the instinct to cower at what I know is his wicked anger shining through—the only explanation for so many texts and missed calls.
He must not have liked the email I sent the partners this morning.
I sigh, turning the volume up on the radio as George Strait sings about exes in Texas. I almost laugh at how on the nose it is as I drive back into town after leaving the Bennett ranch. Ineverthought I’d be back here, on this uneven, rock-filled dirt road that gives access to what was once one of my favorite places in the whole world. It didn’t feel like that just now, standing in Kasey’s cold cabin while he looked at me like I was a complete stranger.
I guess maybe I am—it’s been ten years.
I honestly don’t know what I expected. Maybe I’m too embarrassed to admit that Ineedthis place, that I’m home because I ran out of options. But I thought coming back would feel . . . different. Like I could just fall right back into the old song and dance of feeling too good for any of it. Or that maybe there’d still be a Kasey-shaped pocket of this town that would still feel like it was just for me.
But it’s been ten long years. Kasey isn’t the same boy I left on that beach, and I’m most definitely not the same girl who was convinced he hung the moon that smiled down on us while he held me close.
I guess it’s a relief that he doesn’t seem to care about me being back in Texas—I know exactly what I did to him back then, and how much it must have hurt. His indifference feels like salt in an old wound, stinging and burning with every stale word and icy glance he throws my way, but I know deep down I deserve it.
The tires roll over a bump as the dirt gives way to asphalt and the first edges of town come into view. I can make out the sun-backed silhouette of the grocery store’s curved roof and the water tower with a giant redSFpainted on the front. I know before even making it to Main Street that there are probably a dozen people out meandering around town square, chit-chatting about weekend plans or whatever juicy piece of gossip they’ve caught hold of.
From the outside looking in, Saddlebrook Falls is the quintessential southern town, ripe with traditional values and an eagerness to please the good lord above. But what you wouldn’t see by just looking at it is all the hypocrisy and judgement that swirls in these streets—especially from the older folks.
It doesn’t help that I grew up under the same roof as the town sheriff, or that my father’s role in this community undoubtedly contributed to Mom leaving us. I was only nine when she left,and for so long I waited for her to come back for me. I hated her for leaving me behind with him and all these people, but eventually I made peace with it. I still don’t forgive her for leaving, but when I was old enough it gave me the courage to do the same, on my own terms.
My phone buzzes from where it’s mounted on the dash. There’s a chirp in the car’s speaker system before a voice says, “New text message from Tobias: I don’t want to fight anymore. I miss you, kitty cat. When are you coming back home to me?”
I scoff, throwing a sharp look at my phone. Does he really expect me to just go back to him? Aftereverythinghe’s done?
He’s fucking delusional.
Looking back at the road ahead, I see the bakery quickly approaching and slow down to pull into the lot. There are a few things about Saddlebrook Falls that I’ve missed dearly, and Luna’s walnut brownies are one of them. Nothing in Miami ever compared. Plus, I’ve been especially queasy today and a little dose of sugar will help ease my stomach.
