Page 128 of You Found Me
The notecard crumpled in his hand when he gripped it too hard.
Her eyes sparked. “I’ve seen her type. It won’t be long before she’s bored out of her mind and running back to the life she actually wants. Are you going to chase after her, or are you going to dive back into that business you say you’re building? What was it…protection? Watching someone else live their life instead of living your own? Either way, I think your mother’s house deserves better than being the place you bury bad memories.”
She'd hit the truth so hard it threw him for a second. Not the why of it, but the what.
Wires Crossingwasjust a pit stop in Della Bellamy’s life.
It was why nothing should or could happen between them. None of this was real. It pissed him off that Rachel, of all people, could sense that.
He wasn’t keeping his fantasy girlfriend. Della wasn’t keeping her pretend boyfriend. And Rachel sure as hell wasn’t getting his house.
At least life sucked all the way around.
Ward tossed the crumpled-up card into the trash. “No means no, Rachel.”
“Are you sure?” The crafty look on her face made him wonder how he’d ever loved her. He blamed it on teenage hormones and small-town boredom. “I’m willing to negotiate. That offer can go higher.”
Ward leaned toward her and kept his voice low. “Let me make this very,veryclear. I’m keeping my mother’s house. It’s my home. Mine. It doesn’t matter how much money you have or what you offer. When I’m dead and buried six feet under youstillwon’t be able to buy it. Get that? I’m never selling my home to you. Not now. Not ever. The only thing you can buy from me is cider. If you want that, step to the back of the line. Otherwise, we’re done.”
He realized that it was all true. Staying with Della in his childhood home had taken the sting out of the memories that had kept him away for so long.
It didn’t hurt to walk through the front door anymore.
He had a feeling his mother would really like that.
A flush crept up Rachel’s cheeks. “You don’t have to be so mean. I’m just trying…”
“You need to make your own home, Rachel, and stop trying to take mine.” He stepped around her. “This is the last time we have this conversation. Have a nice life."
“Hey, Donny honey, the line’s getting backed up.” Della nudged Ward aside and held out a cup of hot cider to Rachel with a smile that said, “Go away” much louder than words ever could have. “On the house.”
“Keep it.” Rachel turned on her heel and stalked off.
She made her way through a crowd that parted for her like Moses, head held high, back stiff.
“Oooo,” someone in line said.
Laughter and comments rippled down the line.
“Rude,” Della said with a sad shake of her head. “This stuff’s worth more than gold, am I right?”
“Hell yeah!” a man in line shouted.
“I’ll take it if she doesn’t want it,” a little boy said.
Della laughed. “Here you go, sweetie. It’s yours.”
“Thanks! Mama, look!” The boy held the cup like it was the biggest prize at the fair as his mother led him away.
A golf cart beeped to clear people out of the way as Dad and Elyse pulled up carrying two more vats of hot cider.
Dad glanced at Rachel’s retreating back, then eyed Ward with a knowing look as they hauled the full containers to the table.
“Okay?” Ralph asked quietly.
“Fine,” Ward said.
“You know, that girl’s been after me to sell the house for a while now,” Ralph said. “Told her it wasn’t mine to sell."