blue eyes that disarmed me every time I looked into them. Full lips, rosy cheeks, and a smile that knocked me on my ass even before I understood the power she had over me.
I knew it was futile. The woman who was going to be standing at the airport with a single red rose as requested would never be her. She left. Walked away without so much as a glance back in my direction.
If it weren’t for my family—for my mom—then I’d have walked out of that arrivals area only moments after I’d arrived. It was only the thought of seeing her so happy, knowing that she saved our town, that kept my feet rooted to the spot.
Nerves assaulted me as I stood among the crowd waiting to see the woman who would be carrying not only a single red rose—the only thing that popped into my head when the woman at the mail-order bride company asked how I’d like to be able to identify my bride when she arrived—but my future.
I shake my head, internally laughing as I say the words mail-order bride to myself.
How is this my life right now?
I was happy working all the hours I could get and banging a snow bunny from the slopes when I found one that interested me. Hell, she didn’t even really need to interest me, I wasn’t exactly choosy.
Yet here I am, waiting for my soon-to-be wife.
Wife.
There’s only ever been one woman I thought could possibly be that to me. Only one who ever held my heart.
Yeah, we were young, and I know people—my brothers especially—thought I was crazy, acting like it was so serious when we were only in high school, but it was. She was my world and the day she walked away it crumbled down around my feet.
My heart is in my throat as people start to emerge. I ignore any men that appear and focus on the women, wondering if any of them are her and she had forgotten the rose.
My chest heaves and my palms begin to sweat the longer I have to wait. The idea of walking away is forgotten, I’m too focused on seeing who my perfect match is.
The seconds tick by as if they’re hours as I stand there. The world around me vanishes to nothing as I stare at the opening where the passengers come from, but that is nothing compared to what happens when my eyes land on that single rose.
My stomach turns, I have no idea if it’s just the nerves, fear, or a little excitement.
I take a second, my eyes locked on that flower before I suck in some courage and lift them.
She’s wearing a simple white sweater that is tight enough to reveal her curves and the swell of her breasts. It’s not until I get to the curled blond hair that’s hanging around her shoulders that things start to go wrong—or very, very right, depending on how you look at it.
My heart races, but I’m pretty sure I stop breathing as I continue up and find what my head was already telling me.
It’s her.
Gabriella.
Suddenly I’m a seventeen-year-old boy once again, only it’s not the feelings of love, of contentment, of security, that hit me as I stare at her. It’s the anger, the hate, the devastation I felt as she turned her back on me and embarked on a new life that runs through my veins.
It’s that fury that has my feet moving, closing the space between us where she’s stopped, while I keep my eyes locked on her shocked ones.
“S-Spencer?” she stutters as if she can’t really be seeing me.
But she is, I’m standing right here staring at the woman who ruined me.
She’s no longer the slim girl I remember so well, but a stunning curvaceous woman who makes my heart beat that little bit faster.
My head and heart duel as she remains motionless in front of me. My head remembers the pain, my heart remembers how good things once were. The war within pisses me off. My heart pisses me off. I’ve spent the past five years trying to convince myself that she didn’t care, that she didn’t love me the way I did her because she didn’t fight for us. Not once.
“Let’s go.” My deep, haunted voice shocks me, but it expresses exactly how I feel.
Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around her upper arm, my grip too tight but my ability to control myself left the minute I saw her.
I drag her