Bring Me Back Here Read online

  BRING ME BACK HERE

  A. M. GUILLIAMS

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Note For Readers

  Sneak Peak

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Amanda Berberich. All rights reserved.

  © Bring Me Back Here. All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This book is intended for 18+ due to language.

  Edited by: Silla Webb

  Cover Design: Annelle @ MadHat Books

  For Annelle, my best friend. My right-hand woman. I can’t believe you’re gone. I’ll miss you each and every day. You’ll always be my Mrs. Bartender. I only wish I could bring you back to here.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my amazing husband: Thank you for pushing me when I didn’t think I could finish this book. Thank you for supporting me each and every day to follow my dreams. Thank you for believing in me when I don’t believe in myself. Just thank you.

  To my children: Thank you for understanding why your mom needs to write. Thank you for pushing me when I want to procrastinate. Thank you for loving me and supporting my dreams.

  To Annelle: Thank you for telling me like it is. Thank you for saying what needed to be said instead of what I wanted to hear. Thank you for being you and giving me laughs when I wanted to cry, for telling me to write when I didn’t think I could, for being the best friend any woman could ask for.

  To Silla: Thank you for being there for me through the hard times and the good times. Thank you for believing in me and my stories. I look forward to your criticism and pray to God I don’t get a show don’t tell comment. You’ll always be my editor for life. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me. I’ll cherish your friendship and guidance always.

  To Kelly and Amy: Thank you for your support. Thank you for telling me what the story needs to make it as perfect as it could be. I appreciate each and everything you do for me.

  To Give Me Books: Thanks for your amazing promotions and working with me on this release. I look forward to working with you again and again.

  To Bloggers: Thank you for everything you do. Thank you for choosing to promote all the books you do.

  To my readers: Thank you for reading my books and hopefully enjoying them. Thank you for your support with each release. Thank you for continuing to read any book.

  CHAPTER 1

  Ainsleigh

  T he spinning of the carousel caused my mind to zone out. The round and round motion hypnotized me to the point where I let my mind be free of the chaos that hid in the darkness. Four years’ time had passed since I stepped foot in my hometown. Now, in a matter of hours, I’d be returning home where everything began.

  My life.

  My happiness.

  My struggles.

  My heartbreak.

  I loved growing up in the small town of Breckenridge, Colorado. My childhood consisted of horses, meeting all kinds of people, loving parents, annoying siblings, and a family feud with the Parkhurst’s.

  Life was grand.

  Until it wasn’t.

  That’s when I decided leaving was my one and only option. To save myself and my sanity, I got a late acceptance to Emory and Henry College in Virginia. Instead of going to Colorado State University, which was the obvious choice and one I received an early acceptance to, I decided to take my chances and flee across the country.

  My parents weren’t happy to say the least. Out of state tuition costs were extreme, but I couldn’t stay here. Being here now caused my anxiety to soar, but I couldn’t stay away any longer. No more excuses would work. My mother wanted me home for my graduation party. Since obviously flying everyone to Virginia wasn’t an option, I complied.

  They say home is where the heart is. What they forget to tell you is home is where the memories are, and sometimes they just aren’t worth reliving.

  My bag finally came around on the conveyor belt. As I leaned forward to grab it, someone bumped me from behind, causing me to almost fall on the still moving metal in front of me. A hand wrapped around my waist seconds before I fell face first. My whole body tensed at the thought of some stranger touching me in this way.

  Whoever it was righted my body and made sure I was steady before letting go. A hand reached around and grabbed the luggage that I’d reached for before it got too far out of sight. I brushed down my clothes with shaking hands before I gained the courage to turn around and face my savior.

  A familiar voice called out, thick in a Southern drawl, causing my heart to speed up in a way it hadn’t since I left.

  “Hey there, Ainsleigh.” Damn him for still sounding so damn good. The second he knew he still affected me all would be downhill, and he wouldn’t leave me alone.

  I made sure that my facial expression remained neutral before I turned all the way around.

  “Gentry,” was all I could manage to say as I looked up at the green eyes that I used to get lost in.

  He’d changed so much, yet he remained the same.

  His skin was still the color of honey from all the hours he spent outside in the sun. His green eyes still had flecks of gold around his pupils that most people wouldn’t notice. But I wasn’t just some random person. For someone who spent so many hours of my childhood hanging on to every word he spoke, I knew every inch of them. The most obvious change was the muscle he’d gained over the years. He was bulkier, but in all the right ways. I had to force my eyes to remain staring at his so he wouldn’t catch me giving him a onceover.

  He looked good. Damn good. And that was dangerous.

  “That’s all you have to say,” he spoke while he took the handle out of the case that I’d forgotten he’d retrieved. I tried but failed to grab the handle from his grasp. He was too damn polite for his own good. Instead of arguing, I crossed my arms over my chest and remained rooted to the spot. I didn’t need nor want him here. I especially didn’t want him helping me with my bags. The days of needing and wanting him were long gone.

  What was my mother thinking sending him here?

  “You used to be a woman with so much to say. I guess that’s changed over the years.”

  He was wrong. I still had plenty to say. I just wasn’t saying it to him. There was nothing left to say. I’d said it all in the letter I left him. Yes, you read that right. I was too much of a coward to face him before I vanished w
ithout a trace. He would’ve tried his damnedest to get me to stay, and part of me was afraid he’d get me to change my mind.

  He took my silence as a warning and started to walk away. With no other choice, I followed behind him. Trying so hard not to notice the way his ass looked in his blue jeans.

  The revolving doors opened, and we stepped out into the Colorado sunshine. Taking a deep breath, I relished in how fresh the air smelled and how the sun felt against my skin. I missed the air here. Often times, I would close my eyes as I laid on the grass at the college and would imagine I was laying in one of the fields and taking in the smells and sounds of the quietness around me. Only, I wasn’t here and something would always break me free of the thoughts I longed to take part in.

  Gentry led us over to where his beat up old truck sat parked in the middle of two, what appeared to be, brand new cars. It looked so far out of place, yet he didn’t seem to mind. I always asked him about trading it for something newer, but he always refused. Apparently, he still didn’t want to part with the old heap of metal.

  I stood outside the passenger side door. Too afraid to be trapped in the vehicle with him for an extended amount of time. The door creaked and groaned as he opened it and tossed my luggage inside.

  “Get in,” he demanded, breaking me from the thoughts of being alone with him.

  I hated when he got bossy, which he’d done often enough when we were younger.

  So much time had passed, yet he remained his bossy ass self.

  Grumbling my reluctance under my breath, I pushed the button of the door handle and climbed inside. The worn leather of the seats had more cracks than the last time I’d been in here. However, it still smelled of fresh, clean laundry thanks to the air freshener he kept clipped to the vent.

  The truck roared to life loudly causing me to jump as I took the backpack I’d used for a carry-on off my shoulders and sat it in the floor. Laying my head on the headrest, I turned toward the window of the door and stared out at the open highway we were about to enter. The next almost two hours needed to hurry and pass by. I wasn’t one to wish time away, since it was so precious, but getting away from the reason I’d left in the first place couldn’t happen fast enough.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gentry

  She hadn’t changed at all. She still looked the same as the last time I’d laid eyes on her. Her big brown eyes still had the same deepness that I used to get lost in. Her figure that I’d loved holding in my arms still curvy in all the right places. Only, she didn’t smile as much as she used to. There was a bitterness that she wore so clearly on her shoulders that replaced the happy, carefree woman I once knew.

  In the four years since she’d been gone, I hadn’t gotten over her. I still loved her as fiercely as the day she’d left. Sure, I had my angry moments. Especially when I read the meaningless words she’d left on the paper I’d found the day after she’d gotten on the plane to parts unknown. Gradually, the anger subsided, and I felt a loss that I’d never thought I’d have to feel before. We had our future mapped out down to the very last detail. Our hopes and dreams coincided with each other’s so flawlessly that I never thought there’d come a day when I’d be without her.

  Until I was.

  I didn’t care that my parents couldn’t stand her family. I didn’t care that I was raised to dislike them for no reason other than the competition. Or so that was what I conjured up in my mind since neither of my parents would give me a real reason as to why I couldn’t be with the one person I’d fallen in love with even at a young age. They’d said that it was because she was the forbidden fruit, and I was determined to defy them.

  I knew different.

  It was the way I’d felt with her around. The way she saw me and not what I could give her. She didn’t care about my last name. She only cared about me first and the person I was on the inside. And now she appeared to be indifferent toward me. A feeling I was determined to change. I hadn’t moved on for a reason, and even if it took me the rest of my life, I was never giving up on the love I knew we could have again.

  She sat next to me, trying to keep her breathing even as she stared off into the distance at the passing scenery. I couldn’t take the silence. So many things threatened to leave my mouth, but I refrained asking them. I couldn’t start out that way, or she’d clam up and never let me in. Instead, I had to try a different approach. And maybe, just maybe, I could get her to see how good we would be again.

  “How does it feel to have that degree you worked so hard to obtain?” I asked as I tried to remind myself to keep my eyes on the road instead of diverting them to look over at her.

  I waited for her response, and nothing came. She was hellbent on ignoring me, and I was hellbent on getting her to reply.

  “It’s a long way home, sweetheart. An even longer ride if I choose to take the backroads. So, what’s it going to be? The silent treatment or a simple conversation?”

  “You just don’t know when to quit do you?” she lashed out, causing me to have to hold in the laugh that threatened to escape. She was so damn cute when she was riled up.

  She turned to face me, placing her arm on the back of the bench seat. Her leg lifted, and I turned my head toward the sudden movement. She bent her leg at the knee and placed her other leg on top, getting more comfortable. The material of her yoga capris stretched to the max, making it impossible to not see the firmness of her thighs. Quickly, I turned my head to the road before me. Wrecking the truck wouldn’t be wise in this situation.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m just trying to make the time go by faster, by having a conversation.”

  “Nothing is that simple with you. You don’t just want to talk. You want something else.”

  She was right about that. Nothing got past her. But I could bide my time until the moment was right to ask the questions that were on the tip of my tongue.

  “What exactly is it that you think I want, sweetheart?”

  “Answers.”

  She knew me too well. I had to remember that and tread carefully.

  “I just want to have a conversation. One where you answer the question that I began with and go from there.”

  “It feels amazing. One more thing to check off my list of goals.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Why Virginia?” I knew this question could cause her to turn her attention back out the window, effectively giving me the cold shoulder, but to hell with it.

  “Because it wasn’t Colorado.”

  What she really meant was because it was somewhere I wasn’t. I knew that. She knew that too. But she didn’t have the guts to admit it.

  Moments passed as silence ensued yet again. I didn’t know what else to ask, and she didn’t have anything else she was willing to part with.

  There were so many things I wanted to know.

  Was there a boyfriend?

  Did she still think about me?

  Was she leaving after the graduation party her mother had planned?

  But I remained quiet. I had some time before I could start digging into her thoughts. At least I hoped I had time.

  “Why do you still have this hunk of junk?” she asked. Looking over at her, I noticed her picking at the leather that had broken some time ago.

  “It still runs perfectly fine. Besides, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “If I judged this thing by its looks, I’d steer clear of it,” she said with a hint of laughter in her tone. I longed to hear her laughter again. It was such a beautiful sound. One that I believed I missed the most. The sound alone was contagious, and anyone in her presence would soon follow suit once they heard it.

  “Why were you the one to come pick me up?”

  “Because your mother asked me to.” It was more like I offered time and time again until she caved, but she didn’t need to know that just yet. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Her mother did ask me to, once I begged her long enough.

  “What am I in for when I get home?”

 
“Considering how long you’ve been gone, I’d say you’re getting bombarded with hugs at first. Then constant hovering. Everyone missed you.”

  She groaned at my response and laid her head on the seat. I could tell she wasn’t looking forward to that, but she’d have to get over it. She did that to herself with never coming home.

  “Great. I can’t wait,” she replied with the fakest tone I’d ever heard.

  She might not be excited, but I couldn’t wait. Watching her see her family for the first time in four years was going to be priceless. Especially since I knew just what was in store for her once we arrived.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ainsleigh

  T wo hours passed quicker than I thought they would. Surprisingly, talking with Gentry wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. My anxiety lessened over time when he didn’t bring up the hard questions I’d expected him to ask. However, I knew that at some point we’d have to have that talk. The one where I knew emotions would rise. Thankfully, he hadn’t started off that way.

  The wrought iron gate I knew so well came into view.

  Courtright Ranch.

  A name I proudly called my own.

  The metal of the gate creaked after Gentry placed the code into the keypad.

  Slowly, he pulled the truck forward.

  My palms grew sweaty. For reasons unknown, I was nervous to see my family again. I shouldn’t have been. They all supported my decision to stay away, but I felt uneasy the closer his truck came to reaching the house I used to call home.

  Dirt flew around us as he drove a little faster down the driveway. My parents talked about paving it, but never had. It remained the same dusty driveway I would speed down on the four-wheeler as a child. It’s crazy, the things that seemed so unimportant were the memories that you remembered the most.

  Gentry slowed to a stop when we reached the front of the house. He placed the truck in park, but remained seated behind the wheel. Looking over, I noticed how his hand clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. I wanted to ask what he was thinking. Why he seemed so worried about me going inside. But it wasn’t my right to know anymore. The most important question I wanted to know the answer to was why he remained so close with my parents, when he could’ve easily returned to his own home. So much apparently changed while I was gone.