Loving Her Nemesis Read online

  Maybe I can have two of these if I add an extra half-mile to my run tomorrow morning.

  Jade chewed on her cuticle absent-mindedly, then snapped to attention, shoving her hand in her pocket. She’d bitten her nails as a child until a patient violin teacher had worked with her to quit the habit. Frowning, she focused back on the baked goods in front of her. There was no need to upset her routine because someone bought the house next door.

  Millie, the owner of the bakery and fiancée to the town’s sheriff, handed the customer in front of Jade his change and beamed as she said goodbye. She was one of those perpetually sunny people that Jade secretly wanted to hate—no one was that happy all the time—but since Millie had only ever been kind to her, she’d grown to like her.

  “Hi,” Millie greeted her. “You’re off schedule!”

  Jade paused, shocked. “Uh…” This was why she hated living in a small town. Even the baker commented on her life.

  “I don’t have red velvet cupcakes on Wednesdays. I only make them on Friday mornings,” Millie explained, her smile slipping slightly.

  Jade clenched her fingers around the shoulder strap of her purse. “I didn’t come in for the cupcakes.”

  She hated how curt her voice became, but this was precisely why she usually avoided interactions with people. They made every change in behavior mean something, as though her choice of cupcakes told them who she was.

  “Oh.” Millie cocked her head to the side. “Okay. I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, then regrouped and smiled again, though her eyes didn’t sparkle quite as much as before. “What can I get for you today, then?”

  Jade bit her tongue to stop an automatic apology from flying out. She hated how awkward she was with people, but couldn’t they just leave her alone? All she wanted was to live a private life. Why was that so hard for Hidden Hollows residents to understand?

  When she’d first moved back to her grandparents’ house, some of the neighbors had tried to make friends with her. One brought her a pie, another a crate filled with apples from her orchard—and all the while, Jade couldn’t shake the feeling that they were just trying to gain information about her so they’d be the first with fresh gossip.

  Their questions seemed friendly, but a touch too personal: “So, you’re living all alone, are you?” and “What’s it like, teaching at the school? I hear the principal can be tough to work with,” followed by a conspiratorial eyebrow waggle. As though that would make her bad-mouth her boss to a complete stranger.

  She’d politely fielded every one of those questions, but she never encouraged further contact. So, people eventually got the hint and stopped asking until they were content to simply nod at her if they passed each other in the street. That was how she liked it. It reminded her of living in a bigger city, where anonymity was the expected norm.

  Jade realized Millie was still staring at her expectantly. “I’d like two whole-wheat bagels and half of the rye sourdough loaf, please,” she blurted out, relieved that she remembered her order.

  Millie wrapped up the bread and passed Jade the paper bag. “Sorry if I offended you somehow. I like knowing my customers’ orders.”

  Jade sighed as she dug through her purse for loose change. Then she looked the pretty baker in the eyes. “And I’m sorry for being weird about it. It’s just that I got used to being anonymous and forgettable when I lived in Nashville.”

  Millie regarded her curiously. “You lived in Nashville? But you’re originally from here?”

  Jade found her first smile. “Yeah. I went to music school there. One of the best in the country.”

  “Wow,” Millie said. “So how come you moved back here?”

  Jade collected her bag and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Long story.”

  Millie opened her mouth like she wanted to pry some more, then shut it and gave her a rueful grin. “I’m being nosy again, aren’t I? Small town life is getting to me.”

  For some reason, Jade didn’t mind so much anymore. Maybe it was Millie’s disarming smile, or perhaps enough time had finally passed that the events of the past years weren’t so painful anymore. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” she threw over her shoulder as she pushed open the bakery door.

  “I’d like that!” Millie called after her.

  With one foot out the door, Jade stopped and turned back. “Listen, you know the sheriff?”

  Millie raised her eyebrows. “Er, yes. I’m dating him.”

  Jade rolled her eyes and grinned. “Okay, okay. I was just wondering—did he say anything about the old Williams house? Or about who moved in there?”

  “Oh! Yeah, someone bought it and will be renovating it. So cool, right? It’s such a beautiful house.” Millie tapped her fingers on the counter. “He told me who it was, but I don’t remember the name. Maybe Brent? Bill?”

  “That’s fine,” Jade said. “I was just curious. I live next door.”

  At that moment, it hit her that she was fishing for gossip. Ugh.

  But Millie didn’t seem to find it strange. “Ooh, you do?” she asked as another customer passed Jade at the door. “You have to come for drinks with Haley and me,” she declared.

  Jade gave her a non-committal nod and backed out of the shop. How easily she’d slipped and done just what she’d vowed never to do in her life. Her new neighbor was bringing out the worst in her, and she hadn’t even met the man. Maybe she should bake him something and take it over as an apology gift. But then he might think she was trying to be friendly—which she wasn’t. She was just trying to live her life as she had for the past year and a half, peaceful and alone.

  Two hours later, she was certain that she would be baking no apology gifts for her neighbor. The impossible man was making so much noise she couldn’t hear herself practicing her violin.

  Jade placed the instrument in its velvet-lined case and rested the bow beside it. She’d been trying—and failing—to play for the past half hour, but a violent crash every minute or so interrupted her exercises. She needed to practice often, or her fingers would go stiff and useless. Her physical therapist had urged her to play, even though it sometimes took everything she had to pick up the violin and run through her scales. If she ever wanted to play on a stage again, practicing was non-negotiable.

  Since she spent her mornings at her day job at the Hidden Hollows high school, her afternoon sessions had become routine. She had no intention of breaking it because some rude man insisted on dismantling his house next door.

  Jade put on her jacket and stepped into the knee-high rubber boots she kept at the back door for garden work. Then she stomped down the porch steps and marched across the yard toward the Williams house.

  “Hello?” she yelled over the sound of hammering.

  Nothing.

  She passed through a gap in the fence—she really needed to fix that—and stopped beside a pile of old boards, her hands at her hips. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  Of course, someone was there. He was still hammering loudly. Then the noise stopped. Jade opened her mouth to call out again, but a board flew out the window, falling three feet from her with an ear-splitting crash.

  Jade shrieked and jumped back, stumbling over a knot of weeds. She landed on her backside in the grass and stared at the cloud of dust rising from the boards.

  “Are you crazy?” someone shouted from above. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Jade looked up and froze. A man was leaning out the pane-less window, glowering down at her. She wanted to yell right back at him, but he disappeared from view, appearing at the front door just seconds later.

  Jade scrambled upright and dusted off her leggings. She had no wish to have a conversation with her neighbor while sprawled on his lawn. She drew herself upright and held onto her anger: Who was he to call her crazy? He could have killed her with that board.

  Then the man came closer. The breath whooshed out of her at the sight of him. Tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms displayed by a long-sleeved c
otton t-shirt, he towered over her even though she wasn’t short for a woman. His slightly curly wheat-blond hair was dirty from dust, and there was a brown smudge on his cheek, which was covered by just the right amount of stubble. But it was his gray eyes that sparked recognition inside her.

  The past ten years had done Benjamin Charles good.

  The boy she’d known in high school was a boy no longer. A man stood in front of her. His thick, straight eyebrows pulled down in a frown.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice calmer now.

  Jade blinked at him. “What?”

  “Are you hurt?” He looked her up and down. “Did I hit you with the board?”

  “Oh!” Jade glanced past him to the pile of boards. “No, I’m fine. You just surprised me.” She rubbed the small of her back with one hand. She might have a bruise tomorrow, but it was her pride that suffered the most. Briefly, she wondered if he remembered her, then decided it was better if he didn’t. “I didn’t expect you to be throwing things out the window. But I know now what all the noise has been about.”

  He stared down at her. “You don’t just wander into a construction site. You could get injured.”

  Jade pressed her lips together for a moment and took a deep, calming breath. “I did try to announce myself. But you didn’t hear me over all the hammering.” She looked pointedly at the boards. “How long is this going to take?”

  Ben shrugged. “This? I should finish by tomorrow. All the windows are boarded up, and I need to pull the planks down.”

  Jade relaxed slightly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Okay, so you’ll stop making noise after tomorrow?”

  He laughed, then sobered, apparently realizing she was serious. “Am I going to stop making noise? I’m renovating a house.”

  “Yes, so?” Jade narrowed her eyes at him.

  “So, I can’t do that quietly. It’ll take weeks, maybe even months.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Months? But— You’re—” She searched for the right words. “You’re disturbing the peace!”

  “At five p.m.?” Ben put his hands to his hips now. “You want to call the cops on me again?”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, and she took a half-step back, trying to find a good retort. “I thought you were a trespasser! And there must be some law against making that much noise, no matter what time of the day it is. I can’t hear myself practicing.”

  He stared at her for a beat. Then he asked, “You still play?”

  Jade’s anger cooled instantly. She gazed at him, her eyes round, her heart hammering.

  His lips curved into a smirk. “Hi, Jade.”

  “Hi,” she said, hating how breathy her voice sounded.

  He put a hand to his chest. “Ben. Remember? Ben Charles?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” She tucked her hair behind her ears to cover her embarrassment.

  It was unfair, she thought, that he looked great in the warm September sunshine, even though he was covered in filth and had clearly been working since that morning. She, on the other hand, wished she’d put on something other than old leggings and wellington boots. It wasn’t every day you met your old high school crush.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I need to practice.”

  He sighed. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s going to take me a while to do the rough stuff, and all of it is loud.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m trying to finish up as fast as possible, so I’ll be working long hours, too.”

  Jade spread her arms. “What am I supposed to do?”

  He winced, clearly uncomfortable. “Can you find a different place to practice?”

  Oh, that was rich. She would not be finding a new place to practice. She had every right to live a peaceful life in her own home, and she would find a solution to keep it that way.

  “Fine,” she snapped. “Just—try to keep it down.”

  With that, she turned on her heels and marched back to her house without looking back. She got to her front door before remembering that she’d left by the back entrance, so she had to circle around the house. Hoping Ben had returned to his work and didn’t witness this, she let herself in and leaned against the door.

  Ben Charles was living next door. Was he moving in for good? If she’d thought that having random neighbors was going to be a problem, she now knew that would have been much, much better. Her past was coming to haunt her, and she had no wish to deal with it at all.

  4

  Ben

  Someone was dying.

  Ben sat bolt upright in his bed and blinked in the darkness. The night air had turned cold, and he shivered as the blankets fell from his shoulders. In the small trailer he’d parked behind the Williams house, he hadn’t turned on the heater yet, but he would soon have to in order to counter the chill coming off the Smoky Mountains.

  What had woken him up?

  A moment later, a high-pitched squeal broke the silence, and Ben’s skin broke out in goosebumps. What the…?

  The squeal turned into a clear note, followed by a quick cascade of tones.

  “Oh, man.” He let himself flop back down against the pillow and drew the covers back up.

  Jade Marshall was practicing her violin.

  Ben pawed through the dark until his fingers found his phone. The screen lit up, and he squinted at it. 5:05 a.m. He groaned and shut off the screen, listening to the fast scales coming from the house next door.

  He should have known she wouldn’t give up without a fight. For several days after their tense conversation in his yard, Ben had waited for the cops to show up. But nothing had happened, and he’d surmised that Jade had taken his advice and gone to practice elsewhere.

  But no, the woman had just declared war. Five a.m. was too early, even for him, especially after he’d been up late going over his renovation plans for the house.

  Now that he’d removed the boards from the windows and thrown out the awful kitchen, the rooms were lighter. He saw the potential in each space, could see how it would turn out once he finished. He had a lot of work to do if he wanted to have the house closed up before the winter. Early September weather was mild and pleasant to work in, but soon, there’d be rain, and the temperatures would drop. He’d bring in subcontractors to renovate the roof, help with the plumbing, and maybe more, and he needed to get on that, soon.

  He couldn’t do that work if he didn’t get enough sleep, though. He turned in bed and put the pillow over his head, trying to drown out the angry notes coming from Jade’s house.

  The drills stopped abruptly. He breathed a sigh of relief—he hated sleeping with his head under the pillow. But a moment later, the music started up again, only this time, Jade wasn’t practicing scales. This was a mournful melody, a beautiful, lilting song that had him listening instead of trying to fall asleep.

  It transported him back to high school, to the first time he’d ever heard Jade play. He’d never been much of a classical music enthusiast; his taste ran more to hard rock. But at eighteen, in their senior year of high school, he and a couple of his football buddies went to the high school talent show. He even remembered why they made a point of going: the cheerleading squad was presenting a new routine, and, young idiots that they were, they went to wolf-whistle at the girls. It had all been a part of their football culture, and as the team’s wide receiver, he followed the rest of the guys.

  Then, in the dim auditorium, he noticed Jade for the first time. She stepped onto the stage to a smattering of applause—the cheerleaders had finished their dance—the energy of the audience had fallen palpably. His friends were whispering beside him, joking, and he nudged the quarterback with his elbow to get him to shut up.

  The girl on the stage stood ramrod-straight, her violin clutched in one hand, her bow in the other, and blinked in the glare of the stage lights. He remembered her from class, a quiet, bookish student who kept to herself rather than participating in the various school events. She perched on the end of a chair a stageha
nd had placed there for her, lifting the violin to her chin.

  The moment her bow touched the strings, Ben was bewitched. A song burst from her, passionate and uplifting, and he stared at her with his mouth open. It wasn’t until the song was over, and one of his friends laughed, that Ben snapped out of it. Jade bowed and left the stage, and Ben clapped along with the rest of the audience, still shaken.

  He asked her to prom a month later, after weeks of trying and failing to gather his courage and just talk to her. She seemed so put together, so much more serious and mature than the rest of the kids in class. Her answers to teachers’ questions were eloquent, and even though his academic records weren’t bad, he felt way out of his league. Every time he tried to speak to her, he chickened out. Until one day, he just blurted out the question, his stomach churning as he waited for her response.

  To his surprise, she said yes, gifting him a rare, shy smile that hit him straight in the chest. He thought for sure he had a shot with her, that this was the beginning of an unlikely friendship—or even a relationship.

  But on the night before the dance, she texted him to say she was feeling unwell and wouldn’t be going to the prom at all. He texted back, called, and even tried visiting her the next morning to determine what was wrong with her, but she didn’t answer any of his texts or calls.

  So he went to that prom alone and ended up kissing a different girl, who then became his girlfriend for a couple of short months before they all left for college in the fall. He didn’t speak to Jade again, barely saw her around town, and every time their eyes happened to meet, she quickly turned away and left.

  Now Ben lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep, and wondered what had happened to the ambitious, smart girl who had headed to one of the best music schools in the country. Why wasn’t she performing on a grand stage somewhere? Her music was still as beautiful as ever, and yet here she was, back in Hidden Hollows.