Lawton Ridge Duet Series

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

GEMMA

My alarm blares at six thirty in the morning like it does every weekday for work. I love being the office manager at my dad’s garage, but he’s an early bird. Me, not so much. However, I’ve had to become one over the years.

While the coffee maker finishes dripping, I make some avocado toast. Once my breakfast is ready, I sit at the small breakfast bar with a mug full and eat.

Robert: Morning, darling. Hope you slept well. Care to come over tonight so I can kiss my beautiful future wife?

I smile at his message.

Gemma: I did, thank you. How about you? I can stop by later.

Robert: I would’ve slept better with you next to me.

My stomach drops. It’s not the first time he’s hinted at me moving in before we get married. Robert and I met a couple of years ago and have been engaged for eighteen months. Though he proposed early into our relationship, we didn’t rush to set a date. I’ve needed time to figure out wedding details, and after finding a venue, we set an official date for March. Though it’s seven months away, it still feels too soon.

Gemma: I can sleep over this weekend.

I stay with him most weekends, but he’s ready for me to move in permanently.

Setting my phone down, I look over my planner and check my agenda for the day. I have to place a few orders, clean, and file receipts from last week. The garage is typically quiet, but when customers drop off or pick up vehicles, it gets busy. I make many phone calls, return dozens of emails, and search online for parts when my dad needs something specific that I can’t find locally.

My dad and I have worked as a team since I was twenty-one, though I worked in the summers during high school and college. I got my associates degree in business management and then started working full-time.

Once I’ve finished eating and downed my coffee, I take a shower. The birds sing loudly outside, and I smile as I look around my cottage in the backyard of my childhood home. My two best friends, Katie and Everleigh, like to tease me about how it looks like something out of a Disney cartoon. It’s quaint and cozy, and all it’s missing is a fairy-tale story based around it.

As I wash my body and hair, I think about how I need to start packing soon, and the thought of moving out makes me sick to my stomach. For the past twelve years, I’ve made this place my own while leaving little parts of it that honor my mother. It gave me all the privacy I needed after I turned eighteen, and my dad was glad I was still close if I needed anything.

Before my mom passed, the Snow White cottage was her painting sanctuary. I don’t remember a lot about her, and most of my memories come from pictures and watching old family video tapes. She died in a car accident when I was eight, and there’s been a gaping hole in my heart ever since. My father raised me and did his best to make sure I didn’t feel neglected by not having two parents. He always did a great job putting me first, but it never fully replaced not having my mom around. During those formative years of boys and going through puberty, I craved a woman’s perspective.

Jerry Reid is a great man, but he knows jack s**t about cramps and what type of pads I needed or what meds to take. Though he tried his best. Asking him to take me to a gynecologist for birth control to help regulate my periods was another defining moment of my teenage years I don’t care to think about.

I have many happy memories here with friends and my dad helping me plant in the garden. I’ve taken care of it for years, and now, the thought of leaving scares me.

I know it makes sense to move in with Robert, but I want to spend the time I have left enjoying this place before the wedding is here. It’s the only time I feel her presence and super close to my mother.

Katie, Everleigh, and I have spent countless nights on my couch drinking wine and watching The Bachelor. It became a weekly girls’ night tradition. When I’m married, I don’t know how often we’ll get together. I don’t even want to think about it.

My mother’s paintings are hung on the walls. I love waking up to them and running my fingers across the frames. Though Robert has encouraged me to pack a few to hang in his house, it doesn’t feel right to move them. This cottage is where her creativity blossomed. She’d set up her easel, then open the patio doors that face the little garden in the backyard. She’d paint the sycamore and red oak trees, squirrels, and blue jays at the feeders.

After she died, my father maintained the garden and even added a few birdhouses. While I didn’t get her creative gene and can’t paint to save my life, I understand why she loved this space so much. The view is awe-inspiring and feels like a little slice of heaven. Perhaps it’s why I haven’t been able to make the commitment to leave.

Once I’ve finished getting ready, I grab my things, then lock up. The garage isn’t that far, and even though we could carpool, my dad always starts working before I arrive so he doesn’t get behind. Lately, he’s been doing everything on his own, and it’s no secret he needs help in the shop. We open at eight, and I make it with ten minutes to spare.

“Good morning, Daddy.” I open the door that separates the waiting area and the shop. I don’t see him, but his truck is parked in the back, so I know he’s here somewhere.

“Mornin’, sweetie.”

I finally see his legs sticking out from under a car. “What time did you get here?”

“Seven. Hey, can you call Mrs. Betsy Anne and let her know she can pick up her Oldsmobile at noon?”

“Can do. Anything else you need right away?”

“Maybe some coffee for your old man?”

I grin and shake my head. “Of course. Let me brew some, and I’ll bring you a cup.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite daughter.” He rolls out from underneath and smirks.

“Nice try. I’m your only daughter.”

I start the coffee maker and straighten up the cups and napkins on the table for the customers. Main Street Bakery, a few blocks down, delivers fresh pastries every morning at eight and will be here any minute.

As soon as I unlock the front door and flip the sign, the phone goes off. Minutes later, Mrs. Wright comes in with a dozen donuts and chats for a moment about the weather before leaving. I deliver my father a cup of steaming hot coffee and a chocolate eclair before going back to the front desk.

My day is nonstop, and if I’m not on the phone, I’m at the computer or going over invoices with customers. I’m able to take a thirty-minute break for lunch, and that’s when I walk to the cafe on the corner and check my phone.

Katie: Tyler’s back in town. Have you seen him yet?

I inhale a sharp breath at seeing his name on the screen. Everleigh told me he planned to return, and while it’s been on my mind, it didn’t really hit me until now. However, my anxiety spikes at the thought of running into him and how awkward things will be between us.

Gemma: No. You?

Katie: Nope.

The last time I saw Tyler Blackwood was twelve years ago. I was crushed when he left town after we spent three months together. It was the most amazing summer of my life, and then he broke my heart. I was in love with him, had given him my virginity, and was ready to spend the rest of my life with him.

But I wasn’t enough to make him stay.

I knew he was only staying temporarily and had planned to move, but I had hoped he would stay for me. The day he left was the last time I heard from him.

Brokenhearted doesn’t even brush the surface of how I felt for months after. Katie and Everleigh picked me up off the floor and forced me to move on. Being his sister, Everleigh was just as sad to see him go. The letters he sent me while he was in the Army were all I had left of him.

When he kissed me for the first time, I swear my heart stopped. As corny as it sounds, I’d fallen in love with him long before that kiss. After years of getting to know him, spilling my deepest and darkest secrets, and complaining about boys and school, he went from being a brotherly figure to someone I connected with on a level I never knew existed.

We hadn’t seen each other in years or even talked on the phone, but those letters changed me.

I still have them stuffed in a shoebox in the back of my closet. Though I should just throw them away because I’m engaged, but I can’t. Those letters are a part of my past, and at times, when I’m down and get drunk on wine, I pull them out and re-read my favorites.

It’s self-sabotage, but I’ve only done it a few times. When I’m feeling uncertain about my future or want to reminisce about the past, I’ll dig them out. The tears usually come so fast I can’t even read the words on the paper.

My moments of weakness would happen when Tyler was on my mind and heart. I really believed he’d never return. The night I learned he’d been sentenced to five years in prison, I knew the prospect of seeing him again was slim to none. I’d always held a sliver of hope, but by then, I realized I needed to move on, so I did. I honestly figured after serving his time, he’d go back to Vegas and continue living his life in Nevada. But Everleigh mentioned a month ago he was moving home, and my stupid girl brain got anxious all over again about seeing him. I felt like a teenager again.

Katie: Think it’ll be weird when you do?

Gemma: Probably a little, but hopefully I won’t run into him that much anyway.

Katie: Well, if he’s going to live at Everleigh’s for a while, you might. Plus, he’ll be around town. It’s not like we live in NYC.

Gemma: It’ll be fine. It’s been years, and I’m engaged now. No reason it has to be awkward.

My words are more for me than her, but they’re true. They both remember how stupid in love with him I was and how broken I was after he left.

Walking inside the café, I smile at Angela who’s behind the counter. Since I’m a regular, she asks me if I want my usual, and I give her a nod. A few minutes later, she hands me my vanilla chai latte and cinnamon loaf.

“See you tomorrow.” I wave as I head toward the door. Angela smiles and tells me goodbye.

A gentleman opens it before I can, and my heart stops. At first glance, I thought it could’ve been Tyler, but it wasn’t. He keeps it open for me, and I thank him as I exit.

Great. Now every time I see a tall, good-looking man, I’m going to think it’s him.

I’m f*****g doomed.

Dear Gemma,

I hate that I can hear you crying in my head even though I’m thousands of miles away. A boy should never make you cry, and one who does isn’t worth your time. Derrick is an i***t for breaking up with you. You know that, right? He’s not worthy of you.

And before you think it… No, I’m not just saying that. I really mean it.

Derrick’s lucky I’m far away right now and can’t kick his needle-d**k a*s to the next county.

But for real, I’m sorry you got your heart broken. I know it can be hard, especially the first time, and you’re probably thinking there’s something wrong with you or that you aren’t good enough, but it’s not true. I might not have relationship experience, but I practically raised Everleigh until the day I left for boot camp and know how you teen girls think.

The pain will eventually go away, and soon, you’ll wonder what you ever saw in him. Time heals all wounds, Gemma. Don’t give this boy your tears. He doesn’t deserve them.

I’ve re-read that letter so much after he left that even after all this time, I still have it memorized.

There’s so much irony in the words he wrote to cheer me up. The lie that time would heal all wounds when I spent years shedding so many tears for him.

Tyler and I weren’t “friends” growing up. His and Everleigh’s childhood was a f****d-up, sad situation. Given what they went through, they avoided being like their drunk mother and deadbeat dad at all costs. Well, except Tyler getting mixed up in some s**t with some terrible people. I really don’t know the whole story, but from what Everleigh said, he was framed and then sent to prison because of it.

After he enlisted, Everleigh moved in with her grandparents, but Katie and I continued to have sleepovers with the three of us, and we all grew even closer. Since talking about Tyler upset her, she found ways to deal with missing him by writing to him. That gave me the idea to do the same. I figured he could use the company and distraction from whatever he was going through, but I honestly never expected him to write back. Receiving his letters was the highlight of my teenage life. We wrote to each other several times a month for four years, and every letter was like having a piece of him no one else had.

The worst part was that I waited for him after he left me. I waited years.

I went on several first dates, but nothing ever came of them because my heart was still hung up on him. I was naïve to think he would come back for me. It wasn’t until two years ago when I met Robert that I actually felt like I could give myself to another man.

Robert’s a wealthy businessman who owns his own development and realtor company. He’s fifteen years older with life experience. He wants children and is eager for us to start our lives together. The man isn’t afraid to show me how he feels and has never played games like most guys my age do. Robert has always been open and straightforward about his feelings for me. When he compliments me, I know without a doubt he means it.

After six months of dating, he proposed, and it felt like the pieces of my heart had finally glued back together. I wanted to be happy. I deserved it, and Robert wanted to give me the world.

I accepted, and soon, I’ll be Mrs. Robert Hawkley. I honestly can’t wait to see him later.

The following day starts out the same. After visiting Robert last night, I came home and passed out.

Mrs. Wright arrives with the morning pastries and just as she’s walking out, I hear her thank the man who’s holding the door open. I look up and see him.

No. It can’t be.

Blinking, I shake my head to clear my vision. He walks toward me with an intense expression on his face, and I know I’m not seeing things. It’s really him.

My mouth falls open, and I forget how to breathe. I stay standing as I wait for an alien invasion to come and abduct me. I want nothing more than to be taken out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Hi, Gemma.” His deep voice sends electricity down my body. It’s even manlier than I remember.

“Tyler. Hi.” I clear my throat after the shaky words give away my nervousness. “What are you doing here? I mean, not in Lawton Ridge, since I knew you were coming home.”

My gaze lowers down his body, and I take him in. Time has been good to him. Really good. My eyes stop on his mouth as he licks his lower lip before plucking it with his teeth.

“I’m here to speak to your dad. Is he around?” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Swallowing hard, I furrow my brows. While his brown eyes are still kind, something brews behind them like a distant storm at sea. The boy I remember is now a man, and he’s rigid like a sharp piece of glass. “My dad? Why?”

Fidgeting with my fingers, I tilt my head as I study him. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. He’s really here. When our eyes meet again, there’s a sliver of the old him there, but it’s gone in a flash when he straightens his stance, and replies, “Because he’s going to be my new boss.”