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Back to Us: Cameron Falls: A Small Town Romance, #2
Back to Us: Cameron Falls: A Small Town Romance, #2
Back to Us: Cameron Falls: A Small Town Romance, #2
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Back to Us: Cameron Falls: A Small Town Romance, #2

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TC Matson is back with another love story from Cameron Falls. 

 

Blake

In high school, Dakota Jayne was my everything.

My life. My soul. The air I breathed. She was my light.

One day we were planning the rest of our life.

The next I was picking up the shattered pieces of my broken heart.

She abandoned me without looking back.

Had she glanced in the rearview, she would've seen me chasing after her through the dust cloud she stirred up when she hightailed it out of town.

Now, eleven years later, she's back and creating havoc between my heart and mind.

I hate her. She's still beautiful.

She left me. I still love her.

I wish she'd go back to wherever the hell she came from so I can get on with my life.

 

Dakota

Blake Helms was my life.

We had everything planned out.

That's until he devastated me and broke my heart.

So, I packed up all the pieces and left for college, leaving everything I had ever known behind me.

I finished college, settled into my career, and tried to forget him.

Then my grandmother passed away, bringing me back to this god-forsaken town.

I despise this place and all of the memories.

I hate him. He's still gorgeous.

He broke me. I don't want to still love him.

Leaving the first time was hard but leaving the second time might just kill me.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTC Matson
Release dateJun 2, 2021
ISBN9798201220112
Back to Us: Cameron Falls: A Small Town Romance, #2

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    Book preview

    Back to Us - TC Matson

    CHAPTER ONE

    DAKOTA

    Tears. These damn tears. They stream down my cheeks in the darkness of the night. Thankfully I’m alone. Although the headlights from other cars on this long stretch of dark, desolate country road will illuminate the inside, they still can’t see my pain. They can’t see the hurt and grief as it slides over my skin. I cry alone with only the sounds of the wind keeping me company.

    A little over sixteen hours ago while I was sipping my coffee in my daily morning meeting with my boss and friend, Izzy, my sister called me. I let the first one go to voicemail, thinking it wasn’t important. But with the immediate second call, I knew something was wrong. And I was right. She delivered a monstrosity of a blow—one I still feel aching in my chest.

    Granny died. My wonderful, sweet, patient, incredible grandmother died of a massive heart attack. I wasn’t prepared for the news. Although death is inevitable, I swore my granny would outlive all of us. She was a tough cookie. She came from nothing, saw a few wars, witnessed America’s ups and downs, struggled to put food on her table and warmth in her home, but still found a way to smile as she retold her stories. Granny loved everyone and never met a stranger. The only time I ever saw her cry was when we lost Grandpa. They had been married for fifty-nine years. But even at his funeral, Granny managed to smile, saying she knew he was waiting on her… as usual.

    Delaney said Momma was being strong, but I know deep down, she’s got to be a wreck. She and Granny has always had a great relationship. Granny always said that when my momma married, that’s when their relationship changed from mother and daughter to best friends.

    Izzy told me to take off as much time as I wanted. She insisted she’d be the one to handle my baby—a multi-million-dollar project for an extremely reputable record label—while I was gone. When I told her to call me if anything came up, she laughed at me and shooed me out the door. I went home and packed a few bags, unsure of how long I’d actually be gone. And then I called Sebastian, a guy I’ve been sort of dating for about a month. Although he wasn’t thrilled I’d have to drive seventeen hours away, he never once offered to come and support me. All he kept saying was he disliked the thought of being in the country.

    Now, fifteen hours later, I’m creeping closer to a town I swore I’d never set foot in again come hell or high water. The town that hurts. The place where my good memories imploded. Cameron Falls. I hate this god-forsaken town, even the stupid battered-looking, worn-out marlin blue welcome sign.

    Guess losing my granny is the high water that’s bringing me back to hell.

    It’s almost two o’clock in the morning when I turn down my parents’ driveway and find myself fighting back tears again. I refuse to break when my momma needs all the strength she can get right now. Killing the headlights before they shine into the house, I use my parking lights and the bright moonlight to guide me down the rest of the drive. A lamp illuminates the living room and the front porch light welcomes me.

    Parking behind Delaney’s husband’s truck, I quietly step out of my BMW and take in a deep breath of country air. Where I live in California doesn’t offer this, and damn if I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

    The front door opens and Delaney steps out, bolting down the front steps and slamming a hug into me. It’s been a little over a year since I’ve seen her and eleven years since I’ve hugged her in this very spot.

    I hate the what for, but it’s so good to see you, she says, her voice cracking.

    The last time I saw her or my parents was on her wedding day. Wyatt’s from a few towns over and they decided to have the wedding there. That’s the closest I’ve come to this town in eleven years. For every invite, I’d find an excuse not to come. And now I feel horrible.

    We both wipe our cheeks as we break apart. Delaney’s older by two years with deep brown eyes and long straight hair to match. She’s taller too, by two inches, and she held those two inches over my head when we were growing up.

    Dad finally got her in bed a few hours ago. We need to be quiet going in. You still remember how to sneak in? The moonlight glitters off the mischief in her eyes.

    It launches a huge grin across my face. Of course. We did it so much, it’s ingrained into my memory forever. Help me get my bags.

    With my suitcase in my hands and my duffel and smaller suitcase in Del’s, we silently make our way inside the house. Back when we were kids, we would sneak out a lot—mainly to see our boyfriends. We both were too chicken shit to go out our windows and climb down the tree, so we learned a path that didn’t creak under our feet and led us out the door. We always took the front because it was quieter than the back. It worked because we always got past our parents every weekend.

    The smell of my parents’ house hits me the moment we push through the door and nostalgia immerses me. Memories come flooding in, hitting me so hard I pause, close my eyes, and smile. This is where I grew up, where I learned to crawl, walk, bake, and dress up. It’s full of laughs and love, hard lessons, tears, and heartbreak. This was home for eighteen years of my life.

    Family pictures still cover the walls—from embarrassing baby pictures, school events, and proms to more recent ones like Delaney’s wedding and a few from when Momma and Daddy came to California. My mother is a pictureholic. She says memories keep the walls in her house alive.

    Just like when we were kids, I tiptoe down the left side of the hall, staying against the wall until I come to the red rug and then step out to the right. I bite back my smile as we stealthily head up the stairs and cut into the first bedroom on the right—my old bedroom.

    Just as I step in, I freeze. Oh. My. God. My mouth hits the floor and so does the edge of the suitcase I was carrying. Nothing has changed. And I mean nothing. The walls are still light gray with the one behind the bed still wallpapered white with gray flowers. The bed still has my gray comforter with the peach-colored throw at the end. The three round paper lanterns I wanted so badly because they reminded me of sherbet still hang above my bed and my fairy lights are still arranged around it. Even my desk in the corner looks like I never left. My books still sit on it with a teal photo frame perched beside the lamp.

    Delaney giggles under her breath as she shuts the door behind us. Welcome back, teenage Dakota.

    I cut my eyes to her. You could’ve warned me.

    And miss this face? She waves her hand at me. No way. She places my bags by the wall and slings herself down on my bed, just like she’s done a hundred times before.

    Placing my large suitcase beside the others, I join her, flopping down right beside her. Familiarity hits me. I’ve stared at this ceiling too many times to count. Please tell me your room is the same too.

    All the way down to the box of condoms under my mattress, she snickers. Figured I’d get a stern talking to at some point.

    When I left for college, Delaney still lived here. She was twenty-one when she got brave enough to rent a little two-bedroom, one-bath house by herself. It was the absolute cutest little house I had ever seen by the pictures she sent me.

    I really hope I’m not there for that talk.

    She shrugs her shoulders. I’m thirty-one and married now. The birds and the bees talk has long surpassed me.

    I turn my head to look at her. Is she letting Wyatt stay in your room?

    Pffftt, she laughs. You know she’d still make him stay in the guest room. But he couldn’t get off work and decided to go back home. Thankfully, he’ll be off work for the rest of the week, though.

    We fall silent, staring up at the ceiling and allowing the old house to welcome us back home. Listening to the lullaby of creaks and pops of it settling, it doesn’t take long to lull us both to sleep.

    A noise down stairs pulls me from my sleep and my eyes pop open. Momentarily, I’m confused by my surroundings until my eyes land on my sister. We fell asleep on top of the covers, and now we’re both curled up facing each other.

    Smacking my lips, I shove her shoulder to wake her up. God. Would you stop breathing!

    Her laugh is heavy with sleep as she rolls to her back. I only do it because it annoys you. Want me to quit? She sucks in a deep breath and then holds it with her cheeks puffed out.

    Tittering, I sit up, stretching. We both know you’ll pass out and start breathing again. Besides, I’m supposed to be the most annoying. I’m the baby.

    What type of sister would I be if I didn’t try and steal your spotlight?

    Standing up, I stretch my arms to the ceiling, rising up on my tiptoes while taking another look around my room now that the sun is shining in. Last night I fought with everything I had not to let my eyes wander to the corner, but this morning, they’re traitors and home in on the teal recessed bookshelf. Black picture frames, some portrait, some landscape, line all five shelfs. And even though there’s never been a real book on it, I know there’s a handmade one full of painful memories.

    You good? Delaney asks gently as she bumps my shoulder.

    Yeah. I rip my eyes away from the bookshelf to her. I’m going to change and freshen up so I can get downstairs.

    Don’t take too long. You know Momma will be up here in a hurry when she realizes you’re here.

    The moment the door clicks shut, my feet move to the damn bookshelf and the pictures. A swirl of emotions begins in my chest—love, hate, sadness. Staring back at me is Blake Helms, my boyfriend all through high school. There must be at least twenty pictures of us from all different times in our relationship.

    In high school, he was the football star and I was the cheerleader. Where he was, I was and vice versa. We started dating when I was fourteen and were friends before that. I was crazy about him. He was my first real kiss, my first real love, the guy I gave my virginity to under the stars in his pasture, the guy I risked getting grounded for when I snuck out, and the guy I swore I’d marry and be with for the rest of my life.

    Until he shattered me.

    After telling him I was accepted to a college almost seventeen hours away and not to the ones we had talked about, he lost his temper and we got into a huge argument. The next morning, I found him in bed with a girl at a party he had gone to. He denied it vehemently, begged and pleaded for me to listen. Knowing it would’ve only been a matter of time until I gave in to him and tossed my future out the window, I left five days later. I packed my bags and headed off to California where I got my bachelor’s degree and found a job that pays me more than I can spend.

    Eleven years later and my baby girl finally comes home, Momma says in a soft tone, stepping up beside me and looking at the same heartbreak that I am. I love that boy to pieces but hate him for breaking your heart so badly that it kept you away from us.

    It was my choice to leave, Momma.

    Her tired eyes slide to me and she offers a sad smile. I know, baby. She pulls me into a hug and takes a shaky breath. As usual, Momma’s trying to keep it all together. She’s always been the rock of the family. Always the strong one. For as long as I can remember, I’ve never seen my mother cry. I’m glad you’re home, she whispers.

    I’m so sorry, Momma, I cry and she squeezes me tighter.

    You know she’d make a big ruckus about us crying. She blows a broken laugh under her breath. I’m about to make breakfast. Will you come help?

    Momma looks like she’s cried all night long. Her hazel eyes are puffy and brimming red. But she’s still beautiful as ever. You know I will. Let me change and brush my teeth and I’ll be right down.

    Your daddy can’t wait to see you.

    My smile explodes. I’m ready to hug him too.

    CHAPTER TWO

    DAKOTA

    You almost ready? Delaney asks as she pops into my room, shutting the door quickly behind her. In her hand is a black book, one I remember quite well. She opens it and pulls out a silver flask she and I have snuck drinks from many times. Need some?

    Laughing, I set my brush down. Please tell me that’s fresh and not something over ten years old?

    She unscrews the top. Oh. It’s fresh alright. She waggles her eyebrows. And it’s cherry so we don’t smell like a bunch of drunks. No one will suspect a thing. She tips the flask back, taking a big swallow and then cringes, her face screwing up. It’s not good at all, but it’ll take the edge off.

    Grabbing it from her, I follow suit, taking a sip. The vodka burns down my throat causing me to hiss. Jesus, Del. That stuff is horrible.

    I warned you it was bad. She takes one more swig before placing it back inside the cutout pages of the book. Her eyes travel around the room and land on the empty bookshelf. You took down all the pictures, she states with surprise at the edge of her tone.

    "Didn’t care

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