Page 72 of #Lovestrong

Lena

Ican't believe my dad is letting Declan and I room together, but I'm thankful. I don't sleep well when Declan isn't with me, and I was exhausted when we got home from the diner. Our home is a beautiful rancher off the beaten path. It's nothing special— two bedrooms, one bathroom, living room-dining room combo with a spacious kitchen and mudroom off the side. It has a deck on the back and a large front porch with an old bench swing.

Even though it's technically the holidays, my dad still has to work. Being a cattle rancher doesn't give him many opportunities for time off. We own the ranch and it's only a mile down the road. There's a house on the property, but the three ranch hands share it. When my parents got married, my mother didn't want to live on the ranch, so my dad built this house instead.

He left at six, just as the sun peaked over the horizon, and I've been sitting on the porch swing drinking coffee, wrapped in my favorite afghan since. I don't have the heart to wake Declan, even though I'd rather be sitting out here with him. Part of the appeal of holiday vacation is the ability to sleep in past seven.

The crunch of tires on gravel echoes off the trees and silences the birds hiding among the leaves surrounding the house. My heart rate spikes and I'm praying there's no drama this early in the morning. Any time before noon is too early to deal with the small-minded dipsticks in this town. Unfortunately, my dad is the only cattle rancher in our town, so everyone knows where we live.

I take a few steps forward until my waist presses against the railing of the porch. Leaning to the side, I try to peak around the trees to see who it is, but the massive oak trees that line our driveway are like big, brown mountains. They block everything. Lights shine around the small bend a second before a silver car pulls in. I can't see the driver and I don't recognize the car, which only makes my anxiety spike more.

As it stops a few feet from the porch and cuts off, I move to the steps, the door to my back in case I need to make a quick escape into the house. The door flings open and I let out the breath I'm holding when Jaz pops up from behind the door, balancing a tray of coffees in her other hand.

"I ran into your dad in town this morning. He said you were up before the sun, so I figured coffee and best friend time was in order." She shuts the door with her hip and walks toward me with a huge smile pasted on her face.

I open my arms, keeping the afghan in my hands like a cape, and hug her. "Good morning to you too. Nice ride."

"Can you believe it? Mom got it for me as an early graduation present. We're driving it all the way to Seattle so I can have it for school."

She pulls a coffee out of the carrier and hands it to me as we sit down on the swing. After setting the extra coffee on the railing, she holds hers in both hands and sits next to me, pulling one of her knees up on the seat and turning toward me.

"How are you? Seriously? I heard about Peter's mom being an ass at the diner last night."

Holding the coffee cup under my nose, the heat and steam rise up, making my brain tingle with the aroma of vanilla and pecans. It's my favorite coffee and the house special at Cassie's Coffee House, which, to my enjoyment, is located in the heart of town next to the public library. I spent most of my time between the two from fourth grade until tenth grade.

"I'm okay. I think."

"You think?" Jaz dips her head down to meet my eyes, her brows pulled together in worry. Camilla always used to tease that she’d get early wrinkles from all the worrying she does.

"It's hard being back here. But I missed my dad . . . and you. And Declan wanted to get to know dad and everything. Is it crazy this doesn't feel like home anymore?"

It's strange throwing that thought out into the air, but it's plagued me since we hit the town line last night. A year ago, this was all I knew. This town was safe and amazing, and I loved every part of it. But now, it feels strange and foreign. In my heart, it's like I don't belong here anymore.

Jaz reaches over and lays her hand on my leg. "That's not strange. This place holds nightmares for you, Lena. And you've finally started to heal, and made a new home with better memories. This place is your childhood, but it's not your future."

We both startle as the whine of hinges disrupts the air. A smirk takes over my face as Jaz's jaw drops open. Declan shuffles toward us wearing low-hanging plaid pajama pants and nothing else. Every muscle he has is on display and it is a sight better than cake. He's delicious.

As he walks near Jaz, he leans down and plants a swift kiss on her cheek. "Morning, Jaz. Good to see you again."

"I . . . I . . . good, you know, to see you too, Declan." Beneath her dark cheeks is a deep red. I have to stop myself from chuckling. She blinks several times and seems to recover. "I brought you a coffee."

Declan looks at the railing and lights up the porch with his grin. "Mmm. You southern ladies are truly wonderful." He takes a large sip before putting his hand on the back of the swing and leaning down to brush his lips against mine. "Good morning, beautiful."

I reach up and touch the side of his face. He shaved the day before we left Lakeview and already he has stubble on his cheek. I love it. "Morning."

"Next time, wake me up. If I fall asleep next to you, I want you there when I wake up too." He kisses me again and then saunters back into the house, probably to shower. Or maybe he's just giving Jaz and I time alone. Either way, that boy knows how to make an entrance and an exit.

"You all are sleeping together?" Jaz's eyes about pop out of her head.

"Oh Lord, not like that. I mean, we sleep in the same bed, but we’re not having sex."

Jaz raises her eyebrows with a look of disbelief in her eyes. "Uh huh."

I sip my coffee. "No, seriously. He wants to wait until marriage. And I kinda do too, knowing it's worth waiting for him."

Jaz rolls her eyes. She's never conformed to the old school ways of the south. She's a rebel at heart, even if she tries to hide it. She's just a cautious rebel. "You talk like y'all are already planning a wedding."

"A promise ring isn't an engagement ring, but, I mean, it’s close." I hold my left hand out so the gold ring Declan gave me catches the light.