One
Tessa
Present Day
This is it—the moment of truth.
Standing on a familiar front porch, I run a trembling hand through my hair and inhale deeply for courage. The only thing separating me from the owner of the house—a man I haven’t laid eyes on in seven long years—is a weathered slab of wood, and suddenly I’m not so sure I’m ready to face him again. I take a moment to stretch my neck side to side to rid myself of the pulsing knot at the base of my skull. Then I shake out my arms, much like an MMA fighter preparing for the most important fight of their life.
For close to a decade, I’ve done my best to forget about the first and only boy I ever loved. To move on and let go of my regretful past. But standing here tonight,with sweaty palms and a racing heart, I know it’s time to admit defeat.
The second I entered Bandera County, a mere three days ago, passing the welcome sign of my hometown and taking in the familiar sights, my stomach had come alive with the overwhelming sensation of a million butterflies.
Isn’t that the damn truth.Los Angeles was once the only home I’d known. When I moved back to the city I’d missed so much after college graduation, I foolishly believed I could make it feel like home again. But what I’ve since come to realize is that I’m not the girl I once was. I know now what it’s like to feel complete. To love, and be loved, unconditionally. To be entirely consumed by a person.
I left my heart behind when I fled this tiny Texas town, and no amount of time or distance can fill the ever-present void in my chest. For the past seventy-two hours, I’ve kept an eye out for the man I long to see everywhere, desperate for a glimpse. I’d eaten at Jackie’s Diner three times a day. I purchased so many cappuccinos at Carla’s Café that I’m practically buzzing with the obscene amounts of caffeine flowing through my veins. I met old friends at The Stampede Saloon,hoping he’d stride through the doors to enjoy a cold beer after a long workday. But nothing. And I’m not sure whether to be frustrated or relieved.
I’m not looking forward to a confrontation after the way we left things between us. But in a town this size, our paths are bound to cross. I just wantto get it over with. The anticipation is killing me.
I’ve always been an anxious creature. A worrier. Someone who doesn’t do well with lack of control. So, when I found myself aimlessly driving around town like a creepy stalker for the third time since returningto the scene of the crime, I knew it was time to take matters into my own hands. After all, it’s not like I don’t know where to find the man.
And to think, a handful of days ago, I was living my life, blissfully unaware that my whole world was about to be turned upside down. What was supposed to be a simple, routine visit with my mom’s physician turned into our worst nightmare. A few days and several tests later, the severity of the situation could no longer be ignored—stage three breast cancer.
This unexpected result left our family reeling and caused me to hop on the first available flight home. As an advice columnist for a prestigious lifestyle magazine and a best-selling romance author, I can work from just about anywhere. And let’s face it, there really isn’t much keeping me in the city anyway. The handful of friends I’ve made over the years are more than capable of surviving without me. I don’t have children or pets, and my love life is pretty much non-existent.
Reminding myself that I’m here to support my parents throughout the taxing battle ahead and not to open up old wounds gives me the resolve needed to step up to the front door. My focus should be on my family, and it won’t be if I jump every time I spot a head of unruly, dark hair in a crowd.
I let out a slow breath and lift a trembling hand before I touch the tip of my index finger to the doorbell and give it a firm push. The resultingding-dongsound makes me flinch, and I squeeze my eyes shut to prepare myself for the onslaught of conflicting feelings I’m undoubtedly about to experience. My whole body tenses at the approaching footsteps, and I stand frozen in a moment of utter fight-or-flight panic.
Before I can change my mind, the door swings wide, and there he is. All sound and motion cease as our eyes meet, and we hang suspended in space and time, locked in a flash of heightened awareness and remembered broken dreams. He’s so close that all I have to do is reach out and touch him. The tips of my fingers tingle with the urge to do just that.
Jake Nelson. My first and only love. The man who’s haunted my every dream since I left him behind. And God, he’s even more beautiful than I remember. Jake’s eyes widen in shocked recognition before his bewildered expression settles into a stony mask, making it impossible to get a read on him.
Growing up under the thumb of a ruthless man like Robert Nelson has taught him to hide his emotions from a very young age, an impressive skill he seems to have honed over the years.
”Well, hot damn,” he drawls, and I just about melt at the sound of his familiar twang. “If it isn’t Teresa Davidson in the flesh.” He takes his time looking me up and down before he strikes a casual pose, propping one shoulder against the doorjamb and crossing his long legs at the ankles. I swallow hard before blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.
“You look great, Jake.”
Gah. Really?After all the imagined scenarios, that’s what my befuddled brain chooses to go with?You look great, Jake?
“Thanks,” he replies in a tone that suggests he couldn’t care less about my opinions. But his apparent animosity doesn’t stop me from ogling the glorious specimen he’s turned into. I struggle to align the memory of the boy I once knew with the grown man standing before me now. He’s filled out in all the right places and stands a lot taller than he did when we last spoke. I’m forced to tilt my head to meet his electric blue eyes, so I’m guessing he’s around 6’3”. His features are more defined, with chiseled angles and hard lines. The five o’clock shadow and tousled inky hair only add to his allure. He’s wearing a simple gray shirt that stretches around his powerful biceps and a pair of well-worn jeans. Even something as trivial as the fact that his feet are bare, somehow only makes him more appealing.
Jake has worked in construction for most of his life and has always been active. I’m fairly sure there’s not an ounce of excess fat to be found anywhere on his magnificent body. He’s not bulky like a bodybuilder but displays the leanphysique of a man not above getting his hands dirty—all broad shoulders and narrow hips.
I bite my lower lip and allow myself a moment to imagine how mouth-watering he must look in the nude, but his sharp question quickly snaps me out of my inappropriate musings.
“What are you doing here, Teresa?”Ugh.The use of my full name is not a good sign. Jake only ever called me Teresa when he was mad or in a teasing mood, and somehow, I don’t think I’m dealing with the latter. The resentment in his eyes makes me want to crawl under a rock and wait for the storm to pass. Then I remember I have my own reasons to be angry with him, so I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and meet his gaze head-on.
“I just came by to let you know I’ll be staying with my parents for a while. I thought it would be best if you heard the news from me.”
“Too late, sweetheart. Already had about six calls and three personal visits, letting me know you’re back. I’m sure you remember how things work in this town. Thanks for stopping by, but as you can see, I’m already well aware of your arrival, and frankly, I just don’t care all that much.”
Ouch.So that’s how it’s going to be.
“Fair enough,” I say, steeling myself against his barbed tongue. “I didn’t exactly expect you to jump for joy. I know it’s been a long time since we saw each other, and that’s on me. I did what I thought was best to protect myself at the time. But I’m not that insecure little girl anymore. I grew up and realized that hiding for the rest of my life won’t solve my problems. I’m tired of not being able to come home for fear of running into you. And you know what? I shouldn’t have to feel this way. I’m not the only one who’s made mistakes.”
His gaze narrows, and a flash of unknown emotion flits over his features before he schools his expression once more.
