Right Kind of Wrong

  She glances around, probably looking for luggage. “So are you staying at the inn?”

  “Yeah. Well, no. I mean, Jack and I stopped in late last night, on our way back from Louisiana.”

  “Oh that’s right! You guys were on a road trip. How was it?” She wiggles her eyebrows and I have to bite back a sigh.

  She thinks we just went on a romantic getaway, bless her heart.

  Bless her heart? WHAT? I don’t say shit like “bless her heart.” Kayla’s prettiness must be getting to me. It’s either that, or the fact that a pair of gunmetal-gray eyes is currently sound asleep upstairs. Alone.

  Cold fingers of guilt wring my gut and I nearly choke on my heart, which is somehow lodged in my throat, as I try to answer. “It was good. Fine. It was fine.”

  She scans my face, her big blue eyes softening. “I see.”

  I clear my throat and she continues, “So things with Daren are going pretty good now. He’s definitely the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.” She winks and I throw her a small smile.

  When I ran into Kayla a few days ago, I told her that I tolerated Jack because he was so interesting. And I encouraged her to go after Daren for the same reason.

  “So tell me, Jenna,” she says, quieting her voice like she knows this is a touchy subject. “Do you still find Jack interesting?”

  Oh, God yes. More so than ever before.

  But my voice doesn’t seem to be working so I simply nod, the threat of tears burning behind my eyes at what I have in the palm of my hand, what I’m throwing away every minute I’m not confessing how I feel to Jack.

  Kayla watches me for a moment, knowing my glossy eyes are more than just the morning sun, and silently leans in to give me a hug.

  I hug her back in a desperate way, holding on to this sweet girl who knows nothing about me but cares anyway. Bless her heart, indeed.

  Pulling back, I clear my throat again with a laugh. “God, why are you so nice?”

  She shrugs with a grin. “It’s my curse, I guess.” A clatter of dishes falling draws her attention back to the dining room. “Shoot. I have to get back to work. I’ll see you around later?”

  I nod with a smile and she spins on her heel and scurries back to work, waving to me before disappearing through the dining room door.

  Looking around, I see a beautiful lavender field behind the inn and quietly I step outside and suck in a deep breath. The fresh air eases the guilty fingers around my gut. Not much, but enough for me to breathe easier. I inhale again. Much better.

  “Good morning!” Ellen says, startling me.

  She’s standing to my right, fidgeting with a broken shutter and doesn’t appear to have any clue that I’m going through a small personal crisis.

  “Morning.” I smile.

  “How did you sleep?” she asks.

  It’s hard for me to keep my face under control as the answer to that question invades my mind. I slept well, thanks. Lots of great, hot sex and orgasms with Jack. And oh yeah, I’m pretty sure I fell in love with him even more last night than I was already. Which terrifies me. But I slept fantastic.

  “Good,” I say.

  Her smile stays put. “Good.”

  I like Ellen. She’s forty and single and runs her own business. She’s pretty awesome and somewhat of an inspiration to me. She has the right idea. No man. Just her and her success. It worked for her, right?

  My feelings for Jack only make me weak. I don’t need a man. I’ll never need a man, even a man as great as Jack. Right?

  But then I think about all the people in my life that I love. My grandma, my mother, my sisters, Pixie, my cousins. My love for them is pure, and not a weakness at all. And Jack’s love for Drew isn’t a weakness either. In fact, his love for his family was the strength he needed to protect them.

  “Hey, can I ask you something?” I say, stepping closer to Ellen.

  “Of course.” She dusts her hands off and gives me her full attention.

  “Do you think love is something we can control?”

  She snorts. “Not at all.”

  I frown. “So you don’t think you can talk yourself out of loving someone?”

  “Nope.” She inhales deeply. “Love isn’t an obedient whim. It’s an unruly force. And it answers to no one.”

  I kick at the ground. “But then how can I ever be an independent woman if love has that kind of control over me?”

  She wrinkles her brow in concern then glances upstairs where Jack is probably still sleeping. “Is this about the attractive guy in your room?”

  I pucker my lips. “Maybe.”

  She nods knowingly. “Choosing to love a man, and letting that man love you back, is the most independent thing a girl can do for herself. No independent person is truly successful on their own.”

  “But you’re successful and you’re on your own.”

  She smiles sadly. “I’m on my own at the moment. But I wasn’t alone when I made my dreams come true.” She gestures to the inn. “I had a great man who loved me deeply and made me who I am.”

  That surprises me. I had no idea Ellen had some epic love story in her past. “So what happened?”

  She shrugs and goes back to the shutter. “I was too independent. And yes, there’s such a thing as being too independent.” She swallows. “For years, I tried pushing him away before he could break my heart. And then one day, he let me go. I’ve been free and ‘independent’ ever since.” She looks up at her beautiful inn with a hollow sigh. “But I’ve been lonely as hell.” She looks back at me. “It’s funny. I was so desperate to be on my own, and now that I am, I’m more codependent than ever before. This inn is my lover, if that makes any sense. But the inn can’t encourage me or kiss me. The inn doesn’t care if I hurt or when I cry.” She shakes her head. “I traded one lover for another, and I lost.”

  Emotion clogs up my throat as I listen to the mournful tone of her voice. Is that what I’m destined for? Trading Jack in for some fabulous career that might be wildly successful but will never be able to hold me, to argue with me over radio stations?

  “You okay, Jenna?” Ellen steps forward.

  I blink at her. “I have to go.” Then I turn and race back upstairs to room number four. Ellen was right. Love is an unruly thing and I’ve already been overcome by it.

  I just need to be brave and finally say it out loud.

  Bursting through the bedroom door, my heart slams into my chest when I realize Jack is gone. He’s nowhere in sight. The bedsheets are rumpled and my bags are still in the corner, but Jack and his beautiful silver eyes have vanished.

  Tears burn the back of my eyes as my worst nightmare begins to unfold. Did he leave me? Did he get sick of waiting around for me to come to my senses and call a cab to take him home?

  Oh God.

  Have I already lost him?

  On the verge of a hysterical breakdown, I’m about to hustle back downstairs when I hear the shower turn on in our room’s small bathroom.

  My chest heaves in relief as I realize Jack hasn’t left me. And maybe that means he hasn’t yet given up on me. Without thinking, I run into the bathroom and step into the shower with my clothes on.

  “Holy shi—” Jack jumps as I climb under the spray in front of him.

  “Don’t let me go,” I beg, as water tumbles down my face and clothes. “I know I’m difficult and I’ve put you through hell but I know what I want now. I don’t need a man. I want one—and only one.” Swallowing all my fears, I say, “I am hopelessly ridiculously in love with you, Jack. I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU.

  “Please don’t give up on me,” I say, searching his eyes. “Don’t let me push you away. I want to do this—this thing between us. I want to give it a shot. Even if that means I become some bumbling girl of mush who watches romantic comedies and cries every time she has sex with her man. I don’t care.” I shake my head, water flinging off of my eyelashes and nose. “I love you, Jack.”

  Standing naked in the shower, with hi
s tattooed body glistening in the spray, Jack’s silver eyes pierce me once again. But this time they see into me with love and hope and the promise of things to come.

  A slow grin stretches across his beautiful face as he leans down and kisses me with the passion of heaven and hell colliding. I wrap my drenched body around his and let the water fall over us as I kiss him back with, yes, another tear running down my cheek.

  Pulling back from the kiss, just barely enough to speak, Jack’s eyes sparkle with his smile. “Told you so,” he says.

  I grin so big my face hurts.

  He takes me in his arms, water falling on us like a beautiful storm, and brings his mouth to my ear to whisper, “Say it again.”

  Beaming, I look into his eyes. “Jack Oliver, I love you with all my heart.”

  His mouth is on mine again, kissing me and smiling against my lips like he’s the luckiest guy on earth. And I’m the happiest girl in the world.

  Grandma was right. I was brave enough to confess my feelings.

  And it was totally worth it.

  Epilogue

  “All I’m saying,” Ethan says as he stuffs a pair of red leather pants into a cardboard box, “is that the three of us could have some really fun times together. As roommates.”

  “This is not up for discussion,” Jack says. “You’re moving out. Jenna is moving in. End of story.”

  I bite back a smile at the look of betrayal on Ethan’s face. “Aw, come on, man. What does she have that I don’t have?”

  Jack doesn’t hesitate to list things off. “Manners. Grace. Good hygiene—”

  “Boobs,” I add.

  Jack nods at me. “That too.”

  I grin at Ethan. “Contrary to what your shoe collection might suggest, you don’t have lady parts. So you’re out. I’m in.”

  The beautiful October weather is rolling into Arizona and with the change of seasons comes a big change for Jack and me. He asked me to move in with him two weeks ago, and despite my history with commitment and vocalizing how I feel, I instantly said yes.

  It’s hard to believe our road trip was only a few months ago. It feels like years have passed since then. Good years. Happy years.

  Ethan huffs as he carries the box out of the apartment. “This is the last box I’m loading today. I’ll be back tomorrow to collect the rest of my belongings when I’m in a better mood and not thinking about Jenna’s lady parts.”

  “Okay, ew,” I say.

  Ethan exits the apartment, and the moment it’s just the two of us, alone, in our new home, Jack’s face lights up with a big smile. “I love you.”

  He says that. All the time. It’s like he thinks he needs to remind me or something.

  I playfully tug at his shirt collar, pulling it down to trace the lines of his tattoos there. “I love you too.”

  He tugs the waist of my yoga pants down a bit and brushes his thumb over the tattoo there. The midnight bird we share, taking flight in hope of finding something more. Jack’s flew him away from a life of crime. Mine flew me away from my fear of love. A lucky tattoo indeed.

  “You know what I’m thinking about?” he says, his voice husky and low.

  I arch an eyebrow. “My lady parts?”

  “You know me so well.”

  I giggle—yes, I giggle now—and he lifts me into his arms and carries me down the hall to his room. Excuse me—our room.

  God, I love saying that.

  Our home. Our bed.

  Our true love.

  Maybe I believe in happily ever after, after all.

  * * *

  Later that night, I watch Marvin the goat try to eat my shoe again and curse under my breath. “I’m not kidding, Pixie. This goat has got to go.”

  Pixie smiles over at me. “But he likes you.”

  We’re sitting in the stands at Levi’s football game, along with Levi’s parents and Ellen, and somehow I got stuck babysitting Levi’s friend Zack’s pet goat. Zack’s a teammate of Levi’s and currently on the football field, otherwise he’d be getting an earful from me about this goat that keeps trying to eat my footwear.

  “Here, I’ll take the damn goat,” says Jack, arriving with the pretzel he got me from the concession stand. He scoots past everyone else to come sit down by me and trades the pretzel for the goat.

  After he situates the goat far away from my feet, Jack leans over and kisses me. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey.” I smile and kiss him back more fully.

  Jack is pretty much my whole life, and while that overwhelms me sometimes, it still rocks my world. Every day seems to be better than the one before, and I still feel independent.

  Ellen was right—choosing to love Jack was the best thing I could have done.

  “Okay, ew,” Pixie teases. “There are children here.” She looks around at where there are clearly no children anywhere. “Okay, well, there’s a goat here. Get a room.”

  “Oh, we will,” I say with a wink. “Later.”

  She mocks a gag but not before I catch the look of joy on her face.

  “Sorry we’re late!” Kayla says with a smile as she and Daren climb up the bleachers. “Somebody was perfecting a recipe and just couldn’t leave the inn’s kitchen until he had it perfect.” She playfully rolls her eyes at Daren as they scoot in beside everyone else.

  “Only because somebody insisted on adding potato soup to the lunch menu.” He winks at Kayla.

  “Hey.” She points at him defensively. “Potato soup is a classic and everyone is going to love it.”

  “Yeah. Because I perfected the recipe in the kitchen just now,” he says.

  “Aw, lovebirds,” Pixie sighs dramatically. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  I watch Daren kiss Kayla’s nose and I make a face. “They’re something all right.”

  Pixie scoffs. “Like you two are any better.”

  I hold a hand up. “Oh, please, Miss ‘You hang up first… no you hang up first’! You and Levi are disgusting on the phone.”

  Jack takes the hand I have held up and clucks his tongue as he examines it.

  “What’s this?” he says, holding up my ring finger.

  Earlier today, I slipped Grandma’s gris-gris ring off my ring finger and replaced it with the beautiful red stone ring Jack bought me. It’s a reminder of that trip—and all the moments that brought me to this very happy point in my life—and it looks perfect on that finger.

  “Why?” I say. “Does it freak you out to have a ring you bought me on my wedding ring finger?”

  He watches me for a moment. “Not at all.”

  He’s serious, which both terrifies me and makes me want to sing. God, I love him.

  Biting back a smile, I shrug. “Good. Because I figured it was time to take off Grandma’s ring since, you know, I feel all settled now.”

  He smiles. “Do you now?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  He leans in and lowers his voice. “And would that have anything to do with me?”

  “No,” I say with a smile. Then I lean over and whisper in his ear, “It has everything to do with you.”

  Jack might have been all wrong for me and my plans, but he was just the kind of wrong I needed. The right kind of wrong.

  About the Author

  Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include superheroes, coffee, sleeping in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.

  Learn more at:

  ChelseaFineBooks.com

  Twitter, @ChelseaFine

  Facebook.com/ChelseaFineBooks

  Turn the page for an excerpt of the first book in Chelsea Fine’s Finding Fate series,

  Best Kind of Broken

  Available now

  1

  P
ixie

  If my bastard neighbor uses all the hot water again, I will suffocate him in his sleep.

  I listen as the shower finally goes off and huff my way around my room, gathering my shower supplies. I don’t politely wait for him to leave the bathroom, oh no. I stand outside the bathroom door—which has steam escaping from the crack at the bottom—with a carefully applied scowl and wait.

  Still waiting.

  The door swings open to a perfect male body emerging from a billow of hot fog. His dark hair is loose and wet and frames his face in a haphazard way that manages to look sexy despite the fact that he probably shook it out like a dog before opening the door, and of course he’s wearing nothing but a towel.

  Kill me now.

  I peek into the bathroom, totally pissed, and block his exit with my body. “A thirty-minute shower, Levi? What the hell?”

  A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I was dirty.”

  Oh, I bet.

  “I swear to God,” I say, “if I have to take another cold shower—”

  “You shouldn’t swear to God, Pix.” He brings his face close to mine and the steam from his skin dampens my nose and cheeks. “It’s not nice.”

  This close up, I can see the tiny silver flecks in his otherwise bright blue eyes and almost feel the three-day scruff that shadows his jaw. Not that I want to feel his scruff. Ever.

  I curl my lip. “I want a hot shower.”

  “Then shower at night.”

  “I’m not kidding, Levi.”

  “Neither am I.” His eyes slide to my mouth for a moment—a split second—and there it is. The electricity. The humming vibration that never used to exist between us.

  He snaps his eyes away and pulls back. The damp heat from his body pulls away as well, and some stupid, primal part of me whines in protest.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He waits for me to move out of his way. I don’t.

  I jab my finger at his chest. “I haven’t had a hot shower for three days—”

  Cupping my upper arms, he lifts me off the floor and moves me out of his way like I’m light as a feather. Then he walks the ten paces down the hall to his room and disappears inside without a look back.