Homecoming King - Jami Albright Page 0,13

went to hell, and my own parents abandoned me. “Not exactly.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“Cash King.” Even saying the name causes the tick, tick, tick of my blood pressure as it rises. “It’s also about the rec center and the fact that he can afford to buy this house but turned down our grant application.” I pick at a loose stitch on my work gloves. “I haven’t spoken to the man since homecoming of our senior year. I’ve seen him a few times over the years, when he’s come to town, but I’ve avoided him like the plague.”

“Because of an inconsequential rumor?”

“James, it wasn’t an inconsequential rumor. Believe me, there were lots of consequences—for me. He got off scot-free. I never knew something could blow up that fast. It’s all anyone talked about for weeks. It got so bad that I thought I’d have to homeschool for the remainder of the year.”

“I didn’t know how bad it was for you. I’m sorry.”

I wave away his apology. “I know it sounds stupid to still be mad at him for something he did twelve years ago, but it kind of altered the course of my life. Brad and I were broken up when the rumor started, and my parents insisted I get back together with him to save my reputation. If that hadn’t happened, then I wouldn’t have ended up marrying him, and I wouldn’t have spent eight years as his adornment.”

His bushy brows push together, causing the skin between them to pucker. “Hmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He reaches down and picks up a chunk of the sink by his feet. “It’s just that, Cash didn’t make you marry Brad. No one did.”

“But—”

He holds up his big, calloused hand with the crooked little finger. “Let me finish. I’m not sayin’ your parents and Brad didn’t make things difficult for you, but ultimately it was your choice to marry him.” His big shoulders rise and fall. “I’m sorry, Tiger girl, but them’s the facts.”

One of the things I love most about James is his no-nonsense attitude. It’s what drew me to him when we first met, but today, I kind of hate it. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I do,” he says, and not without sympathy.

“No, you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to have no real power, and the one thing you do have isn’t worth a dime.”

I march over to retrieve some more scraps that fell off the pile and throw them back onto the heap, then turn and run right into James’ chest. His big arms come around me, and I’m enveloped in his Irish Spring embrace.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a bad situation worse.”

“You didn’t,” I say, and wipe my eyes on his shirt. I can’t believe I’m crying over this mess. “Cash did when he decided to reject the community, invade my life, and buy this house.”

A sharp bark of laughter rumbles under my ear, and I pull back to see his face.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny.”

“No, it’s not.” But I can’t help the twitch of my lips. “It’s a disaster.”

“Okay, I’m fully on team We-Don’t-Like-Cash-King. Barb would have my hide if she thought I was siding against you.”

A red car, worth more than the national debt of a small third world country, pulls into the drive. That vehicle’s price tag is far greater than the money we requested for the rec center. And my fury flares again. James releases one arm but keeps the other around my shoulders in what I know is a show of solidarity. My heart takes an erratic lap around my chest when the man himself unfolds his long, strong body from the vehicle. The wind catches his hair that’s slightly too long, making him look like he’s on a damn photo shoot. He doesn’t strut toward us. No, he moves like a man who knows life is dangerous because he’s faced it and lived to tell the tale.

A small sigh slips from my lips. Apparently, my hormones have snagged a front row seat to this show. And I AM FURIOUS with my stupid self. Because with a few well-placed muscles and that slow deliberate stride, my body is ready to roll out the red carpet for this man.

Not in this life, sister. Get it together.

So I get it together and congratulate my psyche for wrangling my estrogen-crazed self back under control. I take a step away from James, but he holds me tightly to his side. I glance up,

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