I’ve never spent the entire night with a girl before. I guess my heart’s just been waiting for the right one.
The girl you bring home.
As my eyes slide shut and the nighttime calls of nature lull me to sleep, I can’t help drifting away on this one thought: I found her.
52
Cupcakes and Red Ears
Sleeping in Michael’s arms is the only way I want to sleep from now on.
Sure, it was kind of squishy in the bed, but that only made it cozier.
The thought of sleeping alone sends this ripple of fear right through me.
Franks let me share her bed when I stayed with her after the trauma, and then I was with Jackson. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever be able to last a night by myself again. The way Dean’s body jerked and hit the floor will always haunt me. The sound of his cheek smacking against the tiles, and his dead stare… That trail of blood… Whenever I close my eyes at night, that’s what I see.
But Michael’s body behind mine, his arm around me, protecting me… I can focus on those things. And that’s what helped me drift off last night.
I woke up actually feeling pretty good. It helped that the first things I became aware of were the way our legs were twisted together, the weight of Michael’s arm draped across my waist.
I couldn’t help but smile, roll over in his arms and kiss him into consciousness. It’s a pretty damn good way to start a day. The heat rushing between us was like an ignition starter, and who knows where it would have taken us if Jackson hadn’t knocked on the door.
Michael jumped off me like he’d been electrocuted. His hair was sticking out funny on the side and it gave me the giggles, which Jackson had to investigate. I think he figured out what we’d been up to, but he didn’t say anything.
He just gripped the door handle, frowned at Michael, and then mumbled, “I’m hungry.”
And that is why we’re heading into Harborton right now. We used up the last of our supplies over breakfast.
Michael stayed behind to get the water running. We’ll work on electricity next, but we have enough basic camping gear to function as a kitchen. Things will come slowly as we set up the ranch, and I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together as a unit, I’m pretty sure I can handle anything.
We reach the outskirts of town, and I notice a small school on our left.
Being a Saturday, it’s all closed up, but I study the building as I drive by, wondering if this is something I need to consider for Jackson. He can’t just stay at the ranch. I don’t know anything about homeschooling, and he needs the social interaction.
I’ll give him a week or so to settle, but then I need to get him enrolled. He might not like it, but since I’m his only living relative—aside from Gramma—he’s my responsibility now, and on this, he’s not getting a say.
He glances at me sideways, and I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking. His mouth pinches into a tight frown, and I hold my tongue. We can argue about it later. I need to feed the kid properly first.
Driving into Harborton fills me with a sense of warmth.
As much as I hated Buckland Springs sometimes, it was also home. I loved the small-town feel, the main road, the quaint shops.
And Harborton is just the same, although it seems a little bigger to me. With the glorious mountains creating a picture-perfect backdrop, this place is plain beautiful.
A smile tugs on my lips as I park on an angle outside the general store. Driving the big Bronco always makes me nervous, but the spaces are big, and I slide in without scraping any of the other cars.
“Careful when you open your door,” I murmur.
“I know.” Jackson rolls his eyes and jumps out, the list we compiled clutched between his fingers.
The money Hank and Trudy gave me has been divided up, and I have a small portion of it with me. It was a fair chunk, but we need to make it last as long as we can. I doubt the ranch is going to be making money quickly, not to mention the fact that Michael and I are going to have to study up on how to even run a ranch profitably. Michael knows the basics his grandpa taught him, but there’s a hell of a lot we need to learn.
I need to think about getting myself a job too. I scan the main street for restaurants before stepping into the store.
Not that I really want to go back to waitressing—I’d much rather work the ranch with Michael—but it could be a necessary evil.
Grabbing a small cart, I push it around the store while Jackson loads it. He tries for a few extra treats, but I refuse him on every turn. By the time we pay and leave the store, he’s in a foul mood, and the thought of driving all the way back to the ranch with his grumpy ass doesn’t sit well.
“That place looks nice.” I point across the road at a small store with a bright pink sign—Joyous Cupcakes.
“Can we go?” Jackson whips around to face me. “Please, just one treat.”
I can’t help a smile as I place the last bag into the trunk and close it.
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
“Yasss!” Jackson pumps his fist and quickly checks the street before dashing across it.
I follow him at a much slower pace, soaking it all in.
If everything goes the way we’re hoping, this is going to be our new home for a while. I’m kind of in love already. The fresh mountain air, the lights strung across the street, the peaceful foot traffic. As long as the people in this town aren’t judgmental pricks, then we’ve got ourselves a winner.
The shop door dings when I open it.
Jackson’s already at the glass cabinet, studying the amazing-looking treats. Cupcakes, cookies and cakes of every design fill the display. Every color frosting you can imagine. I gape at the rainbow of sugar and am immediately tempted.
“Hi there.” A friendly woman with a round face walks out of the back, straightening her pink apron as she approaches the counter.
A girl appears behind her. She looks about Jackson’s age with long, mouse-brown hair and inquisitive eyes.
Jackson jerks up straight and shoves his hands in his hoody pockets. “Hi.”
The girl grins at him and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
It takes everything in me not to start giggling. I’ve never seen Jackson blush like this before. His ears are turning bright red.
How adorable!
“What can we get for you today?” The friendly woman, whose nametag reads Joy, draws my attention back to the cabinets of food.
“Is this place yours?” I ask.
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s amazin’. Truly. I’ve never walked into such a beautiful store before.”
“Well, thank you.” The woman’s smile gets even bigger, showing off her dimples.
I grin back, then look down at the rows of cupcakes. “I don’t know how I’m gonna choose.”
“Well, we do a selection box for twenty dollars. That’ll give you six cupcakes or four cookies and two cupcakes.”
“Hmmm. That’s tempting.”
“Hailey, honey, do you want to do this one?”
The girl nods and grabs one of the pre-folded boxes, then a pair of tongs.
“Jackson, why don’t you choose?” I nudge him forward.