That Crush Sneak Peek
Friday, May 22nd
A gazillionaire. Ainsley “I kind of wish I were going with you,” my roommate, Sammy, says as I set my bags near the front door of our shared apartment. “Had you told me that there was going to be a ritzy weekend bash for the reopening of your uncle’s resort and not just your typical boring family reunion—” “Our reunions aren’t boring. I always have a great time in the Ozarks. You know that.” “I get it. Old-fashioned family fun, followed up by lots of tips at your cushy summer job.” “I could have gotten you a job at the resort,” I challenge, “but you said you weren’t interested. Something about an aversion to manual labor.” “That, and the fact that my body doesn’t belong in the sun. I mean, look at my delicate, pale skin. It would probably burst into flames. Some of us don’t tan beautifully like you, Ainsley. Although I would have loved for my locks to get all bleached out.” He studies his bangs in the mirror near our entryway, then runs his fingers through his hair. “Nothing I can’t fix with a trip to the salon though, right?” “Right,” I tell him. “Try not to have too much fun in class without me.” “School, schmool. Let’s talk about this party. Do you have any idea who all might be there?” I whip a piece of paper out of my purse and hand it to him. “Read it and weep.” “You have the guest list?” he says in awe. “I have the list of who was invited. I haven’t seen a revised list of who is actually attending. And I only got it because Jadyn Mackenzie gave it to me.” “She’s fabulous herself. Really talented. I have followed her and your uncle Tripp’s hotel renovations over the years. Even before I knew you. I’m totally devastated that you got a project internship with her and not me.” “You didn’t even try,” I argue. Sammy can be a little dramatic. We’re interior design majors, who became fast friends in our first class together here at Kansas State three years ago. “Have you even looked at this?” he says, gesturing wildly. “You’ve got movie stars, athletes, musicians, CEOs. It’s insane. If I had seen this list before just now, we could have had a quickie wedding, and I’d be going there as an Archibald. Samuel—you can call me Sammy—Archibald does have a nice ring to it.” “You’d take my last name?” I say with a chuckle. It’s funny we’re even having this conversation. “Well, it’s about all I’d take.” He laughs. Sammy is quite gay. I take one last look at my tote to make sure I have everything and then realize I forgot to pack a few paperbacks to read by the pool. As I run to grab them, Sammy says, “Tell me again how your uncle is, like, a gazillionaire and you have no money?” I shrug. “My dad chose not to work for the family business, I guess.” “Stupid, if you ask me,” Sammy says, still fixated on the list, but when I start shoving books into my bag, he shakes his head at me. “It’s funny that the girl who doesn’t believe in relationships is constantly reading romances.” I’ve told him many times that until I meet a guy who’s like one of my favorite book boyfriends, I’m not going to settle. He grabs one of my books, skims the back cover, and rolls his eyes. “A romance writer named Kitty Valentine? Puh-lease …” “Well, you should know that she has an amazing best friend who makes her this spinning-wheel thing that helps her date different types of guys, or tropes, as research for her books.” “Why does she do that?” “Because even though she was a bestseller, she wrote sweet books, and they stopped selling, so her editor told her she had to spice things up—both on the page and in her own bedroom.” He bursts out laughing. “Well, girlie, I hope you do the same.” “Start writing?” I ask, tilting my head at him. “You’re a lost cause,” he says, chuckling. “Any chance you’ll help me load my car?” I ask, ignoring his comment. “If you promise to get me a photo of one of the guests.” “Who?” I ask, staring him down. “Quarterback Danny Diamond.” I nod because that I can easily do, but then he adds with a smirk, “Shirtless.” When I just stare at him, he goes, “I know he’s a little older, but, damn, the man’s body is perfection. Still. Goals right there. Hell, I became a huge football fan just because of him.” “I’ll do my best,” I promise.
After my car is loaded and we hug goodbye, I get in the driver’s seat and blow him a kiss out the window.
Sammy puts his elbows on the door, leans down, and says to me, “I’m putting it out into the universe right now. This weekend, you are going to meet your future husband. Make that your future rich husband.” I roll my eyes. He is always trying to set me up with someone. And I’m just not looking for love. Not right now. Maybe not ever again. “Been there. Done that. Fucked up my life,” I respond. He shakes his head. “When’s the last time you had a smash? You gotta be thirsty, girl.” I shrug, like I don’t know. Or care. “Not that I’m counting, but I think you might be like that Kitty Valentine. It’s been seven months.” He shakes his head in disbelief and gives me a sympathetic look. “No way! It’s been, like, two, three at most.” “Wrong. Last time was with that guy from the bar, and that was the night Leo and I broke up. Ohmigawd, did I tell you I just found out that he moved in with that guy from art club who I always thought he was having an affair with?” “You did not,” I say, knowing I need to leave now or I’ll get wrangled into an hour-long conversation about this. “Love you. Gotta go!”
As I drive down the highway, I realize he’s right. It has been seven months since I’ve had sex. I’d like to say it’s because I have been focused on school, but it’s not really that.
It’s because I won’t ever again let a man—especially one who is a stupid boy—get in the way of my education or career. And because I don’t want to go anywhere near that memory lane, I decide to turn the music up loud and sing my way from Manhattan, Kansas, to Kansas City. I’m close to my parents’ house when I get a call from Mom. “I’m almost there. I’m surprised you aren’t tracking the trip,” I say. When I went to Notre Dame my freshman year of college, she insisted on installing a tracking app on my phone in an attempt to keep me safe. What she didn’t realize was that she should have put one on my heart. “Oh, I am, Little Miss Speed Demon,” she teases. “I was just trying to be safe and go with the flow of traffic,” I reply.
A few moments later, I pull into the driveway. I know Sammy gives me shit about not being rich like my uncles, but we live in a beautiful two-story home in a nice neighborhood, and I’ve had a wonderful life. Parents who worked hard for our family. Who instilled a good work ethic in me. And who raised me with love.
All that used to be what I wanted. A white house with black shutters and flower boxes on every window. A family to come home to. But that was before Brad. Now I don’t want any of it. I just want a career I love. A job I’m passionate about. That’s all I need to be fulfilled in life. I don’t need a husband. A picket fence. I just need me. And Sammy might be right—an occasional hookup.
Mom meets me in the driveway and wraps her arms around me the second I’m out of the car. “I’ve missed you so,” she says, sounding teary.
“It’s only been a month since I’ve been back home,” I counter. She leans back and looks at me. “You look gorgeous, Ainsley. And thin. Have you not been eating enough?” “Just been working out a little harder. I’ll be in a golf skirt this summer and need those tips.” “You’ve always had a lovely figure, but it’s your hard work and sweetness that will earn them.” “Thanks, Mom. Are you and Dad all ready?” She purses her lips and manages to look angry, sad, pissed off, and defeated, all at the same time. “Your father might not join us,” she says simply. “I don’t know why that would be a surprise, Mom. He rarely does. It’s really too bad he doesn’t get along with his brothers.” “Yeah,” she says curtly. “I’ll go grab my bag and be right back.” Which is weird. It’s like she doesn’t want me to go in the house. But I need to. “Um, do you mind if I run inside and use the bathroom? I’ve been driving for over two hours, and we have at least three more to go.” “Oh, yes, of course, honey. Go ahead.” “Is Dad home?” She lets out a sigh. “He is not. We’ll talk more on the way, okay? We certainly don’t want to be late for tonight’s festivities.”
But we don’t talk.
Mom connects her phone to my car and plays her favorite songs—meaning what was popular when she was in college—and sings along. And she’s acting like I was just a little while ago, when I turned up the music and decided not to go down memory lane. But I join in on the fun now, singing along to the songs I know and trying to feel like a part of it while knowing full well that something is off. Mom’s not acting like herself. Normally, she’d be asking me about my classes, how finals went, if I’d been on any hot dates, and all about the latest gossip in Sammy’s life.
About three hours into the trip, we stop for gas right before we reach the curvy roads that lead to the resort. There’s a liquor store next to the convenience store, and she comes out with a bottle of liquor.
I’ve barely pulled back out onto the highway when she opens it and takes a swig straight from the bottle. “What’s going on? You hardly ever drink. Always worried you will be called to duty.” She’s a charge nurse in a trauma one hospital and often on call. “I’m officially on vacation. At least for the next few days.” “The next few days? I thought, this year, you were going to stay for the whole three-week reunion. Mom, you promised.” “Yeah, well, life doesn’t always go as planned,” she says with an attitude, then takes another swig. “Did something happen at work?” I inquire. “No, thank goodness. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful career. Look, I don’t want to ruin our time together, but this trip didn’t really come at a good time. Your father and I … had some issues come up. And we’re not exactly agreeing on things, I guess you could say.” “Like, you had a fight or something?” I ask, my eyes going wide in shock. They never fight. “Kind of. The truth of it is that he’s not the man I married anymore.” “Like, you think he’s changed or something?” I ask, trying to make sense of everything. But then she lets out a heavy sigh. “Actually, he is. Exactly the same. So, I guess that’s on me.” “But you and Dad are perfect for each other.” “No relationship is perfect, Ainsley. It takes working together. Wanting the same things out of life. We’re just not really working so well anymore.” “What about counseling?” “Your father won’t go.” I take a moment to study her. She’s only forty-one, but right now, she looks older. Her hair is drab, way overdue for a color. Her normally polished nails are chipped and ragged. Her skin looks dull. She looks stressed—probably from the weight of whatever has been going on. And now she’s in the Ozarks, drinking bottled liquor out of a brown paper bag. It’s like she’s sunk to an all-time low. I reach across the car, put my hand on top of hers, and give it a squeeze. I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, so although I have a million questions, I try to be respectful and say, “It’ll be okay, Mom. I know you and Dad will work it all out. Let’s just try and enjoy our time together.” “Yes, we should do that, because we don’t get nearly enough of it anymore,” she says.
Popsicle cheers.
Ainsley When we arrive at the resort, she perks up. Which is good. Our car is valeted, and our bags are loaded onto the golf cart that will be ours for the duration of our time here. And while I’ve attended the family reunions every year, my dad rarely comes, and my mom stopped coming once I was old enough to tag along with my uncle Van and his kids. My dad is the youngest of three brothers, all of whom go by nicknames bestowed upon them at birth. There’s the oldest, Harold III—aka Tripp; the middle, Vanguard—aka Van; and my dad, Rockefeller—aka Rocky. “Explain to me the relationship with this other family who is staying in the new house,” my mom says. “The football guy.” “You mean the Danny Diamond? The future Hall of Famer? The Kansas City quarterback who won three championship rings for our team?” “Exactly,” Mom says simply. I can’t help but shake my head. My dad is very into sports. Dare I say, he’s been slightly obsessive about it lately. It used to be just football he loved. Now it’s pretty much all sports, all the time. He rattles off stats and teams like he knows the players personally. My mother, not so much. But I didn’t think she lived under a rock about it. So, I decide to go into further detail. “Danny Diamond has been forever friends with Phillip and Jadyn Mackenzie. They all grew up together in Nebraska, and—” “Jadyn. That name sounds familiar too,” she says. “Oh my gosh, Mom! Do you really never listen to me when I talk? She’s the one who so brilliantly helps Uncle Tripp redesign all his old hotels. In fact, she designed and decorated the houses we’re staying in, as well as the whole resort, which we are now attending the grand reopening of. And she’s also who I am doing my internship with.” “Oh, that’s right,” she says. “When is that again?” “Right after the reunion. I’ll be gone for four weeks then come back here to work for the rest of the summer.” “I knew that, sorry,” Mom says. “Keep going.” And she is acting weird. Super distracted. “I was just going to say that we are also all actually family now because Danny’s ex-wife, Lori, is who Uncle Van married.” “Ooh,” she says, scrunching up her nose like she just smelled something bad. “And they vacation together? Sounds like a nightmare.” “They all have a really great relationship, but this is the first year it’s been both families together for a joint trip.” “Hmph. If I got a divorce, no way I’d want to go on vacation with your father.” I stop the cart and look at her. “My father? And divorce?! Mom, are you thinking about that? I thought you said it was just a disagreement.” She waves her hand in my direction. “Go on.” “There’s nothing else really to tell. It’s the three families in the two private houses, and then they invited a bunch of friends for the grand reopening, which includes a lot of celebrities. So, it should be really cool.” “I’m sure it will be,” Mom agrees.
When we arrive at the house where we are staying, Mom is more animated. She’s impressed by the luxuriousness of the home, and she greets everyone like they’re old friends, which I guess they kind of are.
She hasn’t hung out with this side of the family for a long time. I don’t understand why, but I suppose family dynamics are tricky sometimes. Which I have always thought was strange because they are all so nice to me. First to wrap me in a bear hug is my uncle Van. He’s tall and, in my opinion, the handsomest of the brothers—his dark hair is just graying at the temples, and he has a jawline like a superhero. He also acted like a superhero for me. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have gotten the little-known scholarship he told me to apply for and would have been ridden with student loan debt when I graduate in December. “Ainsley,” he says with a picture-perfect smile. I swear, he should be doing toothpaste commercials or something. “You look amazing, and I see you brought your beautiful mother with you. I hope you’re both ready for three amazing weeks!” I turn and look at my mom—who is being introduced to Van’s wife, Lori, by Uncle Tripp—and say quietly to Van, “I think Mom’s only staying until Monday.” “Is your father here?” he asks discreetly. “No. Mom said he probably isn’t coming.” “I would have been very surprised if he had,” Van says. “He never does.” “Do you think I should be worried about him? It sounds like he and Mom aren’t getting along. And he wasn’t at the house when I picked her up.” “Probably just needed a little time to himself. I’m sure they will work things out. They always have.” “Always have? Like, this has happened before?” My eyes go wide in shock. “No relationship is perfect, Ainsley,” he says. “Now let’s talk about more exciting things. You’d better get ready for this weekend. The party is going to be one for the books. Heck, we may need the rest of our time here just to recover from it.” “Well, Uncle Tripp never does anything small, does he?” I say with a chuckle. “No, he doesn’t. All the kids are out back. Why don’t you go join them? Wilder is waiting for you to pop the champagne.” “Are Mom and I the last ones here?” “Yes. In fact,” he says loudly to get everyone’s attention, “Nicole,” he says to my mom then adds, “Tripp, Lori, let’s go kick this reunion off.” I watch as Lori wraps her arm around Uncle Van’s elbow. And this woman is amazing. I swear, she never ages and practically sparkles all the time—although it might be partially because of all the diamonds she wears. To be honest, I was shocked when she changed her last name to Archibald because Diamond was very fitting for her.
We go through the large, open kitchen space, out onto the screened porch, then head down the stairs. I’ve barely gotten to the bottom when I’m greeted by screeching and hugs. First to wrap their arms around my legs are the eight-year-old twins, Bentley and Beau, who are wearing sailor outfits—Bentley’s is an adorable navy dress with white trim, and Beau is in a white pant set with navy trim. To be honest, he looks a little like he should be working on a yacht.
“Lee-Lee!” they yell out their nickname for me. From three of his four children, Uncle Van has seven grandchildren. The oldest, Blakely, just turned fourteen, and the youngest, Willow, is almost three. More of the pack join in, with choruses of Vanny and Trippy when they realize who else is following me. Hunter, who is six, pouts. “Vanny! Mama and Daddy won’t let us go swimming yet!” “That’s because we are going to have dinner, then go to a party. There’s going to be lots of people and pretty lights. We’ll be in a big tent, and you can see the stars!” “I can see the stars?” he asks with wonderment. I love kids. They are so bright-eyed and happy most of the time. Of course, just as I think it, Willow marches up with a bubble wand in her hand and wails, “I do it.” She’s very independent, and she wants to do everything the older kids are. Halston, who is twelve, scoops her up and says, “I’ll help you with the bubbles, okay?” “O-tay,” she says back, as they march off happily. “It’s chaos here,” my mother mumbles from behind me. But apparently, Lori hears and goes, “Isn’t it just wonderful, Nicole?” My mom looks at her, smiles, and nods, but I can tell she’s just being polite. Especially when she says, “Ah, there’s the champagne,” and makes a beeline in the direction of the outdoor kitchen. The outdoor kitchen is pretty cool, featuring a big area to cook for a crowd and a large bar that doubles as a buffet when we have our annual fish fry. Right now, it’s filled with bottles of fine champagne chilling and glasses lined up in neat little rows. Needless to say, I will be eating and drinking at a much higher caliber here than my and Sammy’s typical doctored-up ramen noodle meals and cheap wine. Although I have had some of the best times of my life just laughing, eating, and drinking with him. There is something to be said about food tasting better depending on who you are sharing it with. Before I can greet my cousins, Uncle Tripp has ordered Wilder—the husband of Van’s daughter, Peony—to start pouring. Wilder and Peony are in their late twenties, have been married for two years, work in marketing, and swear they are going to travel the world and not have children. And when you have seven nieces and nephews, I can see how that might be enough for you. I used to want kids. Lots of them. Like my own baseball team. Probably because I’m an only child. But then I named said children with my ex, Brad, and dreamed of our future together—only for that illusion to be shattered, causing me to swear off all those things. I will admit, however, his idea of naming our kids in alphabetical order was a pretty clever idea on his part. “You’re an A. I’m a B. Our firstborn will have to have a name that starts with a C.” “And our second one with a D?” “Now you’re getting the picture,” he said with a radiant smile. “If we have nine kids, we’ll make it all the way to K.” I shake the memory out of my thoughts; high-five my oldest cousin, Baron; get a hug from his wife, Alexa; and take a flute. I notice that the kids are all getting Popsicles to toast with. And it makes me smile. “Remember when we used to do Popsicle cheers?” I say to Baron. “Gotta continue that tradition for our kids. It was one of my favorite things about coming to the lake.” “Me too,” I agree. I see that Uncle Tripp and Uncle Van have Popsicles. They gather all the kids around, and Van says, “I realize that you might not know that the Popsicle cheers you do every year was started way back when we were your age. Our brother Rocky can’t be here with us today, but it was always one of his favorite things. So, I’d like each of you to toast to your brothers, sisters, and cousins and know that you are in a special place, surrounded by love. Cheers!” I can’t help but grin as I watch the kids toast each other, then walk around and press their Popsicles against the grown-ups’ glasses. “And now for the rest of you,” Tripp says. “Thank you for making time in your busy schedules to join us for the grand opening of our reimagined resort. Whether you are here for the day, the weekend, or our three-week reunion, I hope you will find this place still holds all the memories of yesterday while offering more beauty and function for today.” When I turn to clink my mom’s flute, I notice she has tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” “It’s hard to hear them talk wistfully about your dad,” she states. “I wish they all got along. Just please promise me you’ll stay for the weekend so we can have some time together?” She nods, but doesn’t look sure. “I will for as long as I can. In a way, I feel like I’m betraying your father somehow. Which I know isn’t really logical.” I want to ask her the question I’ve aways been afraid to ask. Why doesn’t Dad want to spend time with his brothers? Because how could being surrounded by all this love make you feel bad?
After chatting for a bit, we all go to our rooms to get ready for tonight. On my desk, I find a note that says:
Welcome to the reopening of The Archibald Lodge. We are so happy you are here and can’t wait to share a weekend of events that will showcase all this resort has to offer. There is nothing better than time spent with family and friends!
Tripp Archibald
Van and Lori Archibald Danny and Jennifer Diamond Phillip and Jadyn Mackenzie
I set it down, noting the heavy cream paper and deep green ink, along with what must be the resort’s new logo at the bottom. I assume they put this in each guest’s hotel room, and it’s cool that they let us see them too.
I quickly unpack, change into a cute little strapless dress, throw on a pair of sandals, and freshen up. But before I leave, I take a moment to sweep open my curtains and take in the beautiful view of the lake. I swear, I just feel so at peace here. And I hope I can share some of that peace with my mom.
“This is a really beautiful night,” she says wistfully as we arrive at the amphitheater.
“It’s changed a lot since last year,” I say in awe. “The lawn is perfect because it’s now made from synthetic grass, and it’s got mesh tenting over it, meaning we don’t have to worry about bugs.” “And there’s a country band playing on the stage. I love it,” she says. “You look refreshed,” I tell her, taking in her bright eyes as I squeeze her hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I’m broken.
Damon It’s been quite the day. To be honest, I’m still in shock. My best friend, Chase Mackenzie, is marrying my sister, Devaney “Dani” Diamond. This weekend. We grew up living next door to each other. And three years ago, at this very resort, when Chase was fifteen and Dani was sixteen, they fell in love. Although I’m pretty sure they had been in love with each other most of their lives. Things were amazing while we were here, but then they got into a huge fight when we got back home and barely spoke to each other for, like, two years. Which was a bit awkward. Fortunately, for all of us, they got their shit together and got back together. What I didn’t expect was for them to be getting married so young. Or for it to be a surprise. Even to my sister. Apparently, Chase worked in secret with my mom, whose brother-in-law, Tripp, owns this resort, along with my stepmom, Jennifer. I guess, at one point, Chase and Dani discussed eloping. And she told him that if he could conjure up her dream wedding, she would marry him anytime. And so he did. They got engaged last night. And today, she was presented with three options. She and Chase could get married this weekend, or they could have an engagement party be part of the festivities, or it could be as advertised—the grand reopening of the resort. I watch as Chase speaks to my dad’s sports agent, Carter Crawford—well, now he’s my and Chase’s agent too. We play football—Chase as quarterback and me as receiver. Which everyone thinks is funny since my dad is a three-time championship-winning quarterback. The story is that I loved running when I was a kid. So, I’d go out for a pass and make Chase throw the ball to me. And to be honest, I still love that feeling. The freedom of running as fast as I can to get to the perfect spot where the ball just drops into my hands. Or even better, when I have to run toward it to catch it. I’m ready to jump into their conversation when my stepmom, Jennifer, brings over the actress Keatyn Arrington. Keatyn works in the movie industry with Jennifer. I’ve met her and her husband numerous times, as my dad is an ambassador for their charity wine, Moon Wish. Thankfully, they all move on, and I’m able to sneak up behind my sister. “I’ll tell you what my moon wish is.” “Damon,” she warns, “behave.” “Sis, I don’t need to wish for that,” I say with a smirk. “I just gotta open my mouth. You know I talk as good of a game as I play.” “Yeah, we all know you are quite the player—on and off the field,” she says, rolling her eyes. “There she is,” I say with a sigh as I see the girl I fell in love with at first sight a few years ago walking into the party. And she looks even more gorgeous than I remember. She’s with a woman who must be her mother. Lord help me, but could that little orange dress be any shorter? And now I’m starting to think about what’s under it. “Don’t look now, but Ainsley just got here,” I tell her. “Remember when I first saw her, I told you that she was my future wife, that I’d get together with her when I was older.” Of course, both of them turn around and go, “Ainsley!” “Ugh! I told you not to look. Or call her over. You guys suck.” But then I think of another way to play this. “Although I do appreciate the engagement and wedding stuff that’s going to happen this weekend. Weddings make girls feel romantic because it allows them to imagine their own special day. And since we are going to be here together for a few weeks, it’s literally the perfect time to make her fall in love with me. Oh, don’t tell her about the wedding. I want her to find out tonight with everyone else.” “Ainsley, it’s so good to see you,” Dani says, sharing a hug with her. It’s then that I notice the orange dress she’s wearing has little flowers all over it. Like my Garden of freaking Eden, waiting for me. “How are you?” Ainsley asks my sister. “How does it feel to be done with your first year of college?” “Really good,” Dani replies as Ainsley gives Chase a punch in the shoulder. “And I heard you had a good spring game. My uncles are suddenly Nebraska fans. I suspect they will be coming up to see some of your games this fall.” I clear my throat, and she finally turns toward me. “Damon.” Just the way my name rolls off her lips gets me all hot and bothered, but I nod. “I apologize,” she says. “I mean, both of your games. Think you might start?” “We hope so,” Chase says. “We will,” I counter, winking at her. “And you are welcome to come to Lincoln anytime, preferably without the family.” She scrunches her cute little nose up at me, making me want to kiss it. And just when I consider it, my sister says, “We’re going to get food. Would you like to join us?” I shake my head and place my hand on my heart. “Ainsley, would you do me the immense honor of joining me on a blanket and sharing a bucket of chicken with me tonight?” “Uh, sure,” she says as my sister puffs her lips out in a pout. “Don’t worry, sis. We’ll park our blanket next to yours,” I offer, even though I want Ainsley to only have eyes for me tonight. “Good,” Dani says. I hold my elbow out for Ainsley. “Shall we?” Surprisingly, she complies, wrapping her hand around my bicep, which I can’t help but flex just a little. I’ll never forget when I first saw her. It was that summer when Chase and Dani got together. She was working at the resort and came to the house to babysit our younger siblings while everyone else had dinner at the resort’s nicest restaurant. I met up with Chase, and we plopped on the living room couch while Jennifer answered the door. I’m talking to Chase and stop speaking in the middle of my sentence—literally stunned into silence—when she walks into the room. Long legs. The perfect amount of curves. Long brown hair. Big green eyes. “Holy shit. Remember this day, man,” I say to Chase. “I just met my future wife.” Jennifer greets her. “Thanks so much for coming.” Then she turns to us. “Everyone say hello to Ainsley Archibald, Tripp’s niece, who just finished her freshman year at Notre Dame.” The family smiles and waves in her direction. “She’s smart too,” I whisper. “And you’re working here for the summer?” Jadyn asks, rising to meet her as well. “Yes, I’m a camp counselor for the kids program,” this Ainsley says. Did I mention her voice is perfection too? Like she could make big bucks doing phone sex. It’s a little husky. A little breathless. And I want her. Now. “I think I need counseling,” I say to Chase under my breath. “What’s your major?” Jennifer asks her. “Well, it was engineering,” the gorgeous girl says. “Turns out, working with all those numbers isn’t really what I want to do. I’ve decided I want to make the buildings pretty after someone else figures out how to build them.” “She can make my building pretty, if you know what I mean,” I whisper to Chase. “I’m going to K-State this fall. They have a good interior design school, and I’ll get to spend a semester studying in Italy,” Ainsley continues. “That sounds like so much fun,” Jennifer gushes. Then, she says, pointing at Jadyn, “Do you know that’s what she does? Well, sort of. She designs them and makes them pretty.” “Yes, I’ve heard all about the Jadyn Mackenzie from Uncle Tripp. We were here for the big family reunion in May. You thought of every detail when you planned this place. Seriously, we were all in awe.” “Well, thank you,” Jadyn says graciously. I need to meet her. I need an excuse. Then I suddenly come up with a plan. “I need to go talk to her. Give me the baby,” I tell Dani. “You’re not going to use our sister to try and get laid. Besides, that girl is going to be a sophomore in college. She’s nineteen.” “And I’m fifteen. That’s only four years.” “And right now, you’re jailbait,” she argues. “So what? We’ll do our thing now, and when it doesn’t matter how old we are—” “How old would that be?” “Um, when I’m eighteen or nineteen probably. Or maybe I’ll wait until I get drafted. I’ll hire her to help me decorate my new house, specifically the bedroom, and she’ll fall for me.” “By then, she’ll probably be with someone, if she isn’t already now,” Dani counters. I just shake my head at her. Because I know. Deep within my heart—and possibly a few other body parts. “She isn’t already now because she just switched schools. Besides, once she meets me again then, it won’t matter who she’s with. She’ll dump them immediately for me.” “You are confident,” Chase says with a grin. “Damon, how can you say that?” Dani counters. “If Dad had done that with Jennifer when he and Mom were first married, you wouldn’t even be here.” “Que fucking será, será. Whatever. You’re ruining my moment here.” And she is. I need to focus. But it’s like looking at the sun. Too long, and your eyes go blurry. Jennifer and Jadyn are still giving the girl instructions when my dad and Phillip come in, closely followed by the grandparents and the dogs. “I think I’m going to have to skip dinner,” I tell my dad. If anyone will understand my predicament here, it’s him. Dad looks at me, his eyes narrowed, then glances at the babysitter and chuckles. “Sorry, son. She only signed up to babysit two babies, not three.” “I could stay and help her. Because it would be a lot, watching two boys, two dogs, and two babies. Plus, I think I got too much sun today. I’m feeling a little woozy.” “You probably need food,” my sister offers. “Or to get laid.” Chase chuckles under his breath. But they were both wrong. I knew right then. Someday, she’d be mine. Read the Ebook Listen to the Audiobook Get signed print books |
