CHAPTER 1
EMERY
Ialways thought I handled rejection well, but that was before an entire town decided to do it. Logically, I know a town can’t reject a person, but this is starting to feel personal.
I look up at theWelcome to Honey Grovebillboard towering over my head like an unfair bouncer and take one deep breath before letting the rusty wrench in my left hand sail through the air. It makes a satisfyingclunkas it hits the chipped wood. Finally, I feel some of the pressure release from my chest.
But then I remember the old pick-up that’s drowning in a cloud of smoke, and I wish I hadn’t impulsively thrown away my only tool. I know I can’t fix whatever landed me on the side of the road, but a girl has to try, right?
A scream bubbles up in my throat, but I choke it down and pull out my phone. Thankfully, there is cell service. Even if it constantly wavers between one and two bars.
My thumbs sweep across the keyboard until I find the nearest shop. I press the call button and pray they’re still open.
Each time the line rings without an answer, my handclenches tighter around my phone. I eye the cherry red barn decorating the Honey Grove sign, feeling the itch to throw something again. Even if it’s my only connection to society outside of the rural New York town I now call home.
My mouth starts to dry after the next few rings, and I’m convinced I’m going to spend the night stranded on the side of the road. But then I get the first stroke of luck I’ve had all day when an old, tired voice yawns into the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi! I’m so sorry to bother you this late, but my truck broke down a few miles outside of town and I need a tow.” Or someone who knows why my dash is lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” the man says, and I try not to cringe at the unsolicited nickname. “I’ll send the kid out to pick you up.”
The kid? Was he sending an incompetent teen out here to help me? God, why did I ever think I could make it in a small town?
“Miss? Are you still there?”
I clear my throat. “Yes! Sorry. You cut out for a second. But that sounds great. Do you know how long it’ll be?”
“I’m sure he can be there soon, but it is a Friday, so he might be chasing tail this time of night.”
Chasing tail? What was this? The fifties?
I cough out a polite laugh and attempt to hurry him off the phone. “Right. Well, tell him I’m next to the town welcome sign right off Route 20. It’s the baby blue Chevy that looks like it just lost a bar fight.”
The man laughs like it’s the best joke he’s heard all week. “Got it. Sit tight, sweetie.”
As soon as the line goes dead, my knees feel like a bowl of jelly. My stare catches on the beautiful oak armoire strapped down in the bed of my truck. Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere in a town where I knew no one was almost worth itfor the intricate vine carvings crawling up the side of the antique piece.
Less than a week ago, I was still living in New York City. I had a nice cushy job working as an assistant to an up-and-coming interior designer, and my apartment was rent-controlled, which was unheard of anymore. I was content and maybe even happy at times, but I’ve never felt my heartstrings strum like they did when I found out my grandmother left me the antique shop in her will.
At first, I was confused. I wouldn’t consider us close. I wasn’t the best grandkid and only saw her for the obligatory stuff like Thanksgiving or Christmas. All we had was that one summer together. That summer changed my life, but I kept those details close, hidden in places no one would look. I suppose my grandma was always the type to look closer, even when you begged her to look away.
My heart squeezes inside my chest at the memory of the one and only summer I spent in Honey Grove. That’s when I methim.
A faint memory of blue eyes speckled with green drowned my memory, and it’s enough to hold out my hands and brace my body against the pick-up. I haven’t thought about him in years, but everything in this town reminds me of him. As soon as I crossed the county line, I felt like I was reverting to a heartbroken teenager with no idea what her future would hold.
I am not a stupid woman. I knew it was possible I’d run into him again. Hell, I was sure of it. Men like that do not wander far from home. One word that does not come to mind with Knox Cooke isambitious. All he needed was access to beer and a pool of dimwitted women who fell for his bullshit charm.
Okay, maybe I haven’t always been this smart. But I am a fast learner, and Knox taught me the biggest lesson of all—never fall in love with a man who gives out cheap complimentsand has a crooked smile that could charm the pants off a nun.
I let out a strangled breath and look at the time on my phone. I silently pray that this kid, or whoever the man was referring to, comes quickly. I am already creeped out by random animal noises echoing around me, and unfortunately, I threw away my only potential weapon.
My head tilts toward the stars, and the smell of smoke starts to fade away. You couldn’t see the stars in the city. I was given the gift of starting over and I needed to focus on the good things. I needed to focus on building something new, far, far away from the jackass I thought I was going to marry, and the career I thought would be my endgame.
The sound of gravel crunching yanks me back to my current situation. It’s been at least an hour since I’ve heard the sound of another car, and excitement bounds through me. Hopefully it’s the tow truck…but what if it’s not?
My stomach twists.
I straighten up, heart racing as I come face to face with a pair of headlights growing larger in the distance. I’ve seen multiple scary movies that start a lot like this, and girls like me do not make it to the end.
