My Not So Wicked Ex-Fiancé (My Not So Wicked Series Book 2), page 1
My Not So Wicked Ex-Fiancé
My Not So Wicked Series
Jennifer Peel
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Peel
All rights reserved.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
To Aunt Berta, my cheerleader and friend. I love you.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
About the Author
Chapter One
Oh Mylanta, Mylanta. This cannot be happening. I scanned through the article my second cousin Arlene had sent me on my phone, hardly able to comprehend what I was reading.
Edenvale welcomes Prescott Technology, the up-and-coming software company started by owner and CEO Ryder Prescott. In the past five years, Edenvale has become one of Colorado’s premier technological centers due to its . . .
How could this be? I couldn’t breathe. I needed to talk to Emma.
I walked out of the boutique’s back offices to find only a few customers browsing our new summer line. Macey and Marlowe were taking care of them beautifully. Until the summer months began, weekdays were slower than weekends. At least that’s what the sales data said that Mr. Carrington had provided me when I bought M&M on Main last year. Now it was M&M’S on Main. Memaw had loaned me the money to take on this new adventure. She, more than anyone, knew how much I wanted out of my family’s business and my family out of my business.
“Ladies, I will be right back.” I waved as I walked out the door into the beautiful late May day. I loved the Colorado sunshine and less humid days than I was used to in Georgia, but I was happy to see the snow go. This Southern girl had missed her mild winter, but it was worth it not to have to worry about running into my ex-fiancé, Ryder Prescott, cheater among men, love of my life, and crusher of my soul.
I scooted my heels down the cobblestone sidewalks of Main Street. Carrington Cove was a darling town that belonged on the Hallmark Channel. Close-knit shops and boutiques with brick storefronts, some with cute awnings like my store. Most of them had welcoming display windows. Some of the cafés had outdoor seating when it was warm enough, though the natives around here walked around in shorts in two feet of snow.
The sun’s rays felt good on me as I hustled to Carrington Cove’s Eye Center, owned by some of the best friends I had ever had, Emma and Dr. Sawyer King. They weren’t open for business yet but would be in the next two weeks. Carrington Cove was happy to finally get their own optometry practice. Not as happy as the newlyweds were to be fulfilling one of their dreams.
The eye center was two blocks down from us on Willow Street. They were renovating an old coffee shop nestled between a family practice and an old-fashioned candy shop. I peeked through the Frameport glass door with Carrington Cove Eye Center etched into it to find the lovebirds painting—more like kissing and pretending to paint—the reception area wall. I tried not to be jealous of the sweetest couple I had ever known.
I knocked before letting myself in. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
The happy couple was covered in paint from head to toe as if they had rolled around in it, which wouldn’t have surprised me. They gave each other one last peck before turning my way with big grins.
“Hey, Shelby, what’s up?” Emma set her paint brush down in the rolling tray.
“I’m having sort of a dilemma and I need someone to talk to.”
“Is this female related? Should I leave?” Sawyer asked.
I shook my head. “No. Actually it might be good to have a male perspective.” I approached their reception desk, trying not to inhale too many paint fumes.
Both Emma and Sawyer hopped on the plastic covered desk, ready to hear my tale.
“Remember when I told you I was engaged?”
They both nodded.
“Well . . .” I paused, hardly able to say it, “it appears my ex-fiancé has started his own company and is moving to Edenvale.”
Emma’s mouth dropped. “Does he know you live nearby?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t talked to him since, well, since I left town and never said a word to him.” Not to mention I had done my best to keep my whereabouts secret from him, everything from deleting my social media and email accounts to changing my phone number. Momma and Daddy had convinced me it would be better this way. And after seeing those pictures of him with that woman on his supposed business trip, I had agreed.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Sawyer offered.
Emma patted her husband’s cheeks, adding more paint to his scruff. “Hmm,” she considered what he had to say. I loved that about them. “I don’t know, babe.”
He took her hands and kissed her as if I wasn’t there.
I cleared my throat.
They broke apart with apologetic smiles.
“Sorry.” Emma grinned. “This is interesting.”
“Ryder Prescott—” I almost hated to say his name. It used to be the most wonderful bits of alphabet to escape my mouth. Now I felt like wiping my tongue off each time I had to speak it. “—moving to Colorado is more than interesting. I’m not even sure he’s been west of the Mississippi.”
Emma squinted her eyes. “Ryder Prescott? That name sounds so familiar.”
“You probably remember me talking about him.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s more recent than that.” Emma thought for a second. “Holy crap!” She jumped off the desk. “A Ryder Prescott from Georgia booked one of our cabins at the Ranch for the entire summer. It caught my attention yesterday when I was going through our reservation site because of the length of his stay.”
I reached for my heart, the one Ryder broke. “Please tell me this is one of your practical jokes.”
I was living at Carrington Ranch in the main house until I could secure a place in town. It was part of the deal when I bought the store since my parents had cut me off for leaving the family business. Real estate was expensive in Carrington Cove, so I was waiting until after the busy summer months to move into my own place. How could I avoid him if we were both there? And why out of all the places in the world had he chosen the Ranch? It was forty-five minutes away from Edenvale where his office would be.
“I’m sorry, Shelby,” Emma interrupted my thoughts.
Not as sorry as I was. I fanned my face. “It’s fine. It’s all fine.” I stood tall and proud while lying. My heart raced faster than the Talladega Superspeedway.
Emma tilted her head. “It’s not fine. Maybe I can find some legitimate excuse to cancel the reservation.”
I shook my head. “Goodness no, don’t do that. You and your daddy have a business to run. I’m sure,” I cleared my throat, “Ryder’s money is as good as anyone else’s.” Though I had to wonder how he’d come into all this money. An entire summer at Carrington Ranch would be well into the thousands of dollars.
Emma bit her lip and approached me in paint coated cutoffs and one of Sawyer’s old T-shirts. I wished I were more like her, comfortable in anything—including her own skin. I loved how she was able to throw her hair up in a ponytail and not wear any makeup. She was naturally beautiful, whether she thought so or not, her confidence and personality made her more so.
I was taught growing up to never leave the house unless you were looking your best, not even to go grocery shopping. I knew that was a turnoff to some people. But it’s not like I had to do a lot of those type of domestic things growing up or for most of my adult life. That’s what delivery services and the help were for, Momma would say. As silly as it sounded, I liked strolling through each aisle of the store. It reminded me of . . . well, different times. A time when I wanted nothing more than to be blissfully domestic and even clip coupons if I had to. What an evil thought for a Duchane.
Emma got close, but not too close as she was covered in wet paint. “Shelby, we don’t need the money and we always have a waiting list.”
“I appreciate your offer, but Ryder Prescott means nothing to me. If I saw him today, I would . . .” My breath got caught in my chest. W hat would I do? Slap him? Ignore him? I knew one thing that would not happen. I would not let his dark chocolate eyes capture mine and melt into my soul. My breath came out in a rush thinking about that first moment four years ago when our eyes had locked. “Excuse me.” I turned on my heels.
“Shelby,” Emma called. “Let’s go grab lunch. My treat.”
I waved from behind; my whole body was shaking. “Thank you, but I have to go.” I opened the door and ran into the bright sun. I soaked in the rays of warmth, letting that feeling settle my heart. I silently berated myself for allowing him to affect me after all this time while I took a seat on the nearby bench under the gaslit lamppost.
Ever my momma’s daughter, I crossed my legs and smoothed out my pencil skirt. I could hear Momma now, chiding me to keep my shoulders back and head held high. For once I didn’t listen to her as I sank against the wrought iron. That was a lie—it wasn’t the first time. There was a time, a beautiful time, almost like a dream, now, where I didn’t worry about the expectations of my family. It was the first time in my life that I could be me, with him, curled up in his arms, nestled under a blanket of stars out in the hay field on his momma’s and daddy’s dairy farm. It was not befitting of a lady, or a Duchane, Momma would have said. But I thought it fit me perfectly. How wrong I had been.
At least the man left me with something. He made me see I was more than my name. I forgot that for a while last year when I came running here under the thumb of my family, but once the shock of his betrayal wore off, I realized I was right back where I had promised myself I would never be, living under the Duchane law. As much as I hated to admit it now, Ryder was right: I needed to be my own person. The question now was what was I going to do?
And why was he coming here?
I stared down at the phone in my hand and pulled up that article one more time, reading it more carefully and trying to breathe while I did so. Oxygen, I found, was helpful for comprehension.
I can’t think of a more fitting place to grow the Worlds Collide app and software than Edenvale. The college town atmosphere paired with local venues, attractions, and the outdoor recreation Colorado is known for made it an easy choice. Not to mention the incredible businesses we’ve been able to partner with in Edenvale and the surrounding areas.
I stared at the phrase Worlds Collide. How many times had he used that phrase to describe what we had together? The debutante and the farm boy. While staring at the name of his product and the phrase I once adored, I did something I shouldn’t have. I tapped on a folder that I should have deleted long ago. Why I saved the emails, I didn’t know. Perhaps, at first, I thought I would wake up from the bad dream to find Ryder as true as I thought he was. When my wakeup call never came, I scoured them to see if I’d missed something. Surely I had missed the clues. But no. There wasn’t any hint in any of his daily “Chief” emails to indicate he was planning on breaking my heart. Maybe that was his plan. Perhaps he was one of those men who wanted his cake and to eat it too. Had I not seen those pictures, he would have gotten quite the cake—a seven-layered rum cake with orange blossoms, white roses, and gardenias. Ryder thought it was over-the-top. He’d wanted a simple chocolate cake made with his momma’s recipe, topped with a tacky plastic bride and groom. No way was my momma going for that. We’d compromised and decided that would be the groom’s cake.
I shook my head. I shouldn’t be thinking of all this nonsense. I should be deleting this file folder. My thumb hovered over the trashcan icon. I closed my eyes. Just do it, Shelby. I was really going to do it this time. Really, I was. Then I heard Ryder laugh at me and say, “What are you so afraid of?” He’d asked me the same thing when I’d hesitated to give him my number the first time he’d asked for it at the concert where we’d met.
I thought back to that summer night at the outdoor amphitheater where the sultry air landed on my skin, making it glisten and cling to my sundress. The country rock band gave the night its own pulse. The darker it got, the more intoxicated people became. Inhibitions lowered and strangers began to dirty dance with each other in the aisles. Some of my coworkers from the hospital I used to work at as a midwife decided to partake in not only the abundant alcohol but the sensual aisle dancing. It just so happened that they hooked up with some of Ryder’s friends. Being the only sober people in the crowd, we were left to stare at each other. His brown eyes penetrated mine. Even from a distance I could tell he spelled trouble, with his dark blond hair that fell just below his chin and his tanned skin decorated with several tattoos. Oh, did Momma hate those, but I loved to trace their lines with my finger, to watch his skin raise, especially around the one of my name across his heart.
I blew down my blouse, trying to cool off. I should stop thinking about him, but my mind refused to. It went right back to the night where it all began. He had flashed me a crooked grin when he caught me staring at him from two rows up. I bit my lip and pretended I hadn’t noticed. He wouldn’t be ignored. He jumped over the seats that were separating us and landed next to me with a smile that said I know you like what you see. Did I ever, but he was not the sort of man I was used to. He wasn’t bred to live and breathe boardrooms. No, he was wild and unfettered, born to live life on his own terms. But he was smart. Even that night, he knew not to push it with me. He stood close by singing along with the band and seducing me with his crooner voice without speaking directly to me. For an hour he said nothing other than to glance my way and smile between songs. He let me come to him.
“I’m Shelby,” I’d finally said.
For that I was rewarded with a seductive grin. Momma called that grin of his wicked. Said it was going to ruin my reputation. I told her a thousand times she didn’t know the man behind the smile. He wasn’t all that wicked. In fact, when he wanted to be, he was sweeter than the homemade strawberry wine he used to make that we drank out of Dixie cups. But in the end Momma was right, and that pleased her more than anything. I should have ignored him at that concert when he responded, “Miss Shelby, I’m Ryder and I’d like to get to know you.”
Oh, I had tried to pay him no attention, but that man knew how to sweet talk the devil right out of hell. I gave myself credit for only giving him my email address that night. No matter how much I hated him now, it still made me smile to think about him slack-jawed and sputtering. Not sure a woman had ever denied him her number, or possibly anything. After the initial shock he took it all in stride. “You’ll be hearing from me, Miss Shelby.”
Bright and early the next morning I received his first email of many.
Dear Chief,
You’re in charge. I’ll let you make the next move. I hope to hear from you very soon. I look forward to the day our worlds collide again.
Ryder
Did our worlds ever collide, like when hot air meets cold air and a twister forms, threatening to rearrange everything around you. That was never my intention, but I knew dating him would brew up a storm I’d want to take cover from. That’s why it took me several days to respond to him. But I kept dreaming about his eyes and how they touched me physically. How when he said my name there was a whisper of familiarity as if I already knew him. Now I wondered if I ever knew him.
My thumb hovered over the delete button one more time.
“Do you really want to do that, Chief?” Ryder sounded in my head.
Yes! . . . No.
Chapter Two
My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly write out the deposit ticket for the nightly bank drop. I wished I could say it was because I was overcome by the amazing sales day we’d had. Today kicked off Memorial Day weekend—the unofficial start to summer. Don’t get me wrong, I was tickled with the store traffic and record-breaking sales day, but this weekend represented much more.
Emma had been good enough to break the Ranch’s privacy policy to tell me that a certain someone would be checking in this weekend. I’d waited on bated breath all day for Emma to tell me when he had. She was doing double duty now, running the Ranch and helping Sawyer get his practice ready to open. She’d decided to quit working for the steel factory at the beginning of this year since her duties as a metallurgist weren’t exactly conducive to a pregnant woman. The fumes she was exposed to daily there concerned her. Not that she was pregnant yet, but they were trying their hardest to become so. Two weeks ago, Emma had burst through the doors of the Ranch’s main house to announce to Sawyer, who was watching a baseball game with Emma’s daddy, Mr. Carrington, that she was ovulating, and it was time.
