Chapter 1

J ustine turned the car into the hotel's lot with a light sigh glad she was finally there and could rest. It'd been a long drive, and she needed sleep. She grabbed her bag and headed inside amazed the place hadn't changed in the slightest in ten years. It pulled her back in time, and she wondered what kind of life she would have had if she'd stayed. She wasn't close to being that girl anymore, the one who only saw the good in the world, who wanted a life of happiness with someone she loved. Now, she was jaded and wanted to take refuge in the smallness of her hometown.

"Good evening, how may I help you?" Angela asked from behind the desk and Justine wondered why she was working it. When she'd left Angela was getting married to some rich slightly older businessman she'd met on vacation.

"I'm looking for a room for the next week or so," Justine replied forcing the questions out of her mind.

"We can certainly help you out with that, I just need a credit card and photo id," Angela told her, and she dug them out prepared for the questions the moment they arose. "Justine Crawford—oh my, I didn't realize it was you and not one of your cousins. You don't look a day older than when we were in high school."

"I don't, but thanks," she said with a smile she didn't feel.

"Are you here to see your family or for the class reunion—no it's not for another three weeks," Angela said shaking her head slightly as though clearing the confusing thoughts from it.

"I thought I'd stop in to say hi to the family. I didn't know they were having a reunion," she added with another smile. "Tonight I just want to sleep so can I have your word you won't tell them I'm here?"

"Of course girl, welcome home even if it is just for a visit," Angela assured her, handing her credit card and id back over along with the room key. "Have fun."

"Thanks," she said although she knew fun wasn't something that was possible for her—not now at least, maybe one day she could get there but it was too soon for it right now.

She took the stairs despite being on the fourth floor and checked the exit routes just in case as she moved into the room. It was a typical hotel room, nothing fancy but she didn't need anything more than a bed to crash on for the next twelve hours to refresh her. Getting ready for bed didn't take long and she ensured the ‘do not disturb' sign was on the door before she wedged a chair underneath the door handle.

Sleep came to her, but it wasn't pleasant, far from it actually, and she finally gave up on it around five hoping a run would either wear her out enough to stop her brain from turning over allowing her to sleep or wake her enough that sleep wouldn't be necessary. As long as it got her out of the past, she didn't care which one it was. Her body would force her to sleep when it was ready.

She headed out, connecting to her normal route despite the years away, and felt the tension in her body drain, the heaviness in her chest ease enough that she could fully breathe. The quiet swelled around her, giving her comfort in a way she never expected to find after the last five years.

She reached the creek and stopped, staring at the mass of wildflowers now growing beside the gazebo and her heart skipped a beat. She was here when they'd first begun to bloom ten years ago. She'd been amazed at the beauty of them and that someone had taken the time to carefully plant them. No one else in town knew they were for her, but she did, and she'd said yes to the proposal that came that night.

If only she hadn't left town alone maybe—no, there was no maybe about it. If she hadn't left town alone she never would have chosen the career path she had and she wouldn't be standing back here alone trying to erase the last few years from her memory. She would have been back here many times over the last ten years. Possibly—no, probably with a little boy or girl in her arms while she enjoyed being in his.

Justine shook those thoughts away; they weren't healthy for her. It would simply push her further into a depression knowing just how much her choice had changed everything.

She started back out on the path bracing herself for the sweet smells she would discover racing past the flowers and moved across the wooden bridge over the creek. She turned to go down the path that would take her along the far side of town and nearly screamed aloud in terror when she careened into a hard mass.

"Careful," a deep voice said, and recognition flew through her making her heart skid to a stop. She couldn't stop her head from going up to see him and there was a complete flare of surprise as he gazed down into her eyes.

"Justine?" he said taking a step away from her quickly, and not bothering to ensure if she was stable in his shock. She took a step backwards to keep herself upright and nearly stepped on a tray of flowers. "Be careful," he grunted, his voice now tinged with anger as he moved her away from the tray.

"Sorry," she stated unable to think straight enough with him this close. Not with his hand still on her arm sending sparks throughout her body she'd only ever felt with him. She was just surprised to find it so rampant after all this time.

"So the famous last word becomes the new famous first word you bother to utter to me in ten years, Just? Really creative," he replied, as his gaze grew darker.

"Tyler," she sighed, knowing she deserved his anger for the way she'd left, for not telling him in person. There was no way she'd have managed to actually leave if she'd looked into his eye and told him she was going.

She hated seeing and hearing the anger though, especially after all these years. All she'd wanted was for him to be happy—even if she hated the thought of him with anyone else. She'd wanted him to move on the way she hadn't been able to. To find a life that he was happy to live, but from the glare he shot her, it didn't seem like that'd happened.

"Don't Tyler me Justine—why are you even here? Why now ?" he questioned, and she wasn't sure what he meant by that.

"I just came to see my family. I didn't come to bother you or to rehash the past."

"Good," he stated unable to take his gaze from her even though he knew he should, he shouldn't be feeling anything towards her in the least. "Watch where you're going next time."

"Famous first words becoming famous last Tyler?" she retorted making his body wake in ways it hadn't been in ten years, which only made his anger rise higher to see her here. For her to be here now of all times was infuriating.

"Who knows what the first words I ever said to you were Just," he said, slipping again with the nickname. "We were kids when we met."

"No Tyler—we were teenagers when we really met. As kids we were told to avoid the other like the plague."

"And I finally understood why when I got here to find your note instead of you the night we were supposed to leave here together."

"Don't you dare try to put the Crawford-Anderson feud into my decision, Tyler."

"You said it yourself Justine, ‘Our families will never stop this feud, we can't make them,'" he argued, and she knew he hadn't understood it, then or now.

"It didn't mean I didn't want to go with you Tyler. I just realized that I—we couldn't force them to stop it," she said, only a half-truth, but the real reason she'd gone wasn't something he was ready to hear, not with as angry with her as he still was. "If we had left here together we both would have lost our families which would have made us lose each other and then we'd have been completely alone."

"You don't know that Justine. You don't know what they would have done. You were just too wrapped up inside yourself and your ‘amazing scholarship offers' to care about the boy you left behind."

"Fine, if it's easier to blame me—the feud and whatever lies your family's told of mine then do it. I don't really care about much anymore and what you think of me isn't even on that list," she added, another half-truth. The first part was true, but she hated him thinking poorly of her, hating her all this time but there was no stopping it.

"Enjoy your blameless existence Tyler, I won't argue about it anymore," she said moving around him to finish her run.

She refused to rehash it all. It wouldn't solve anything. Not between her and Tyler and not between their families. The feud was as long lived as the history of their town. She never understood why it continued to rage between them, after a hundred and eighty odd years it should have been settled—or at least forgotten—but each generation renewed it, and she may just be the member of their generation to anew it now.

It broke her heart to think Tyler couldn't see how much it'd hurt her to make the choice she had, but it was better to be heartbroken with family around to lean on than have no one. Yes, she had stayed away from town for the last ten years, but the first five was a self-imposed isolation. Had she come back before then she would have begged Tyler to forgive her—to try again, pick up from where they left it.

Now, she wasn't about to try that. The last five years had changed her entirely and she refused to open her heart to any sort of pain. It might keep joy out also, but she didn't want to feel anything at all—it was easier than trying to keep the pain from destroying her.

∞∞∞

Tyler thrust the shovel into the solid ground as hard as he could, tearing a strip of skin from his palm as the splintered wood caught him wrong. He let out a string of curses as anger burned through his entire body. He had finally stopped himself from expecting to see her and the first thing that happens afterwards? He sees her. Why couldn't she have stayed away? Why now when it was taking every bit of strength he had to not break off the engagement, did she appear showing him just how little he cared about Angela or hurting her by doing it?

Sure, neither of them was going into this marriage with love and roses sparkling in their eyes but he didn't expect it to be this difficult to not run from it.

Ten years ago, he hadn't had a single doubt as to being ready to get married. Now, he had thousands of them and the biggest one just ran straight into him. He could still feel the imprint of her body against his and he burned for her in a way he never had for anyone—but her.

He tried to hate her, had pretended even to himself that he did for the longest time. Did his best to stop his thoughts from conjuring her up in his mind, but it never worked. Not once. Every single day of the past nearly ten years, his first thought when he woke was about her. His first hope was that she was out there, as miserable as him, wishing things were different as much as him.

Three thousand five hundred and forty-four days since he'd seen her, and he'd never been able to truly hate her—love her to the point of near madness yes, but never hate her. He wanted to hate her. It would make it easier, but he couldn't. No matter what the rest of his family said about her family, he just couldn't hate her. He'd discovered the truth about Justine, discovered that the ‘Despicable Crawfords' weren't so despicable long ago.

Well, Justine at least since she was the only one that he'd had any real interaction with in all these years. Not even her leaving had made him think of her the way the rest of his family thought about the Crawfords. His heart was hers. Always had been. Even when he didn't want it to be.

No matter how pissed and bitter he was over all of it. She'd had his heart from the start and likely always would. Which was why, despite all of the reasons he and Angela had agreed to marry for, he'd been itching to do as Justine did to him nearly ten years ago—run. Far and fast because as the wedding date drew nearer, he knew it wasn't right. Entering into a platonic marriage to shut others up was likely to hurt the people they cared about down the road.

Tyler muttered a curse under his breath as his hand burned, and he released the shovel, discovering the splintered wood now caught in his palm. He let out more curses as he tried to get the tiny pieces out, finally giving up as he headed to his cousin's clinic to have it looked at before it became infected.

"I told you that you needed a new shovel months ago, didn't I?" Grace questioned with a smile as he cursed a wide streak as the disinfectant bubbled on his palm. "So what were you doing out this early planting for?"

"I just couldn't sleep, too many things going on in the coming weeks to sit around wasting daylight."

"Even on a Sunday morning?" she asked, lifting a brow his way with eyes that as usual saw too much. "You would think a man who's engaged would want to spend Sunday morning in bed with his fiancée instead of out in the crisp morning air digging holes."

"Yeah well, most men who are engaged don't have a mother like mine who would have a heart attack if he spent the morning in bed with his fiancée," Tyler countered to hide the fact that he had no intention of ever sharing a bed with Angela.

"Come on Tyler, you and Angela barely interact unless there's a town event. What is going on with this engagement?"

"Nothing Grace, geesh would you prefer we all act like Seth?" he questioned with a half-grin bringing up their second cousin who was the town lothario.

"Lord have mercy on us all, no," Grace replied with a laugh. "I simply wonder why you're getting married when it seems you have no feelings for your fiancée."

"Grace, how would you know what type of feelings I have for Angela? I'm not the type to broadcast my relationships all over town—I never have been."

"I know that, but I've also seen you in love before and it wasn't this. Before you try to say that's not possible, you should know that no matter how much you tried to hide it, I know you were in love during high school. I also know there's no way possible it was with Angela because she was always dating other people. So, who was it and why are you marrying Angela if you don't love her?" Grace questioned as she pulled out the remaining slivers of wood.

"I was young and stupid in high school Grace. I wasn't in love," he lied, unsure how she'd react if she knew exactly who he was in love with—then and now as much as he tried to fight it. "I might have thought I was, but it was just a stupid teenage crush that I got over a long time ago. As far as Angela and I go, it's no one's business but ours as to why we're getting married."

"Fine, lie to your cousin all you want but you can't lie to your doctor, Tyler," Grace said shaking her head at him in disappointment. "So as your doctor I'm telling you that you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life. Don't get married simply to be married Tyler. You need to find the one person you can't live without and hold onto them no matter what anyone thinks or says. Even if it's not someone that you think the rest of the family will accept…approve of," she added making his brow lift in confusion and a bit of worry. "If you're worried how everyone will respond if you're…if you're not attracted to women…"

Tyler couldn't quite stop the laugh that slipped out. It was mostly of relief but also a bit of shock because it meant she had no clue his reason for not disclosing it wasn't because it was a man, but a Crawford that had his heart for nearly fifteen years now. "I'm not gay if that's what you so delicately have been trying to ask. So since you have an answer to that crazy idea, how about you finish fixing up my hand so I can get home and change before Mom rails on me for being late to church?"

"Okay, just know that one of these days you're going to tell me who she was. Maybe together we can see what can be done to fix whatever you screwed up before you make an even bigger mess by marrying Angela."

"Who says I screwed it up Grace? Maybe she's the one who screwed it and me over—did you ever think of that?" he questioned a bit bitterly without meaning to.

"So, there was a she…I told you that you couldn't lie to your doctor," Grace said with a half grin before letting him leave knowing he had given her as much as she could hope for in one day.

She wasn't going to let him make a mistake marrying Angela when the woman was still in love with her ex-husband. She wouldn't condemn her cousin to a loveless marriage the way she had herself. She'd given up her chance at true love because of family pressures and while she adored her children, she always wondered about the ‘what ifs' on those special days she simply couldn't forget.

"I'll see you at Grans' for lunch," Tyler replied heading out the door. He caught sight of a lithe body moving through the winding walking trail and felt his gut tighten. She wasn't going to get to him this time. If he saw her again, he would control his own need to gaze upon her, to simply be within her presence.

In high school, he had purposely gotten into the same sections as her, so he could see her every day, nearly every hour during the day. The first year and a half he'd tormented her to avoid the truth—that he wanted her in a way he'd never wanted anyone. She was a Crawford. The enemy. Only she hadn't been. She'd been everything to him.

He went to the creek for a party he'd overheard her agree to attend and started in on her until she'd left. The tears that'd sparkled in her eyes had killed him and he gave her just long enough to get to the bridge before slipping through the woods to intercept her. He could see the pain his words had caused, built up inside of her, and with no one else around, she'd demanded to know why he couldn't just leave her alone if he hated her so much.

He didn't respond with words—he couldn't respond with words because he had no idea how to explain it to her. Instead, he'd reached out for her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her until he'd said everything, explained it all through that kiss. From that moment she was his, and he was hers. At least until he'd reached their spot ready to take them to the nearest city where he could marry her in the shortest amount of time possible and found nothing but that note.

A part of him wondered if she hadn't played the cruelest trick on him, fooled him into thinking she loved him simply to destroy him, but when he heard through the local gossip chain that she'd left town he'd let that bit of wonder go. He spent months looking for her, but he had no clue which scholarship she accepted. She'd applied to dozens of schools when they were still debating what to do after high school. How their relationship would work. Where they could go to escape the feud.

Their plan to elope then go to school is Seattle wasn't decided until April that year. He'd seen the stacks of letters she had in her backpack one day while they were out in the woods. One of their favorite spots they'd go to get away from everyone so they could just relax and be together without the stress of having to keep their relationship quiet. He was fishing while her head rested on his lap, and when she finished her book, opened her backpack to put it up, he'd seen them and asked what they were. Which led to their decision to stay close but also have some space in case their families lost it when they announced their marriage.

He started classes that fall doing his damndest to forget about her while he pursued his biology and landscaping architectural degrees. His freshman year held a parade of nameless, faceless women he used to make himself feel better, worse than Seth ever could possibly use the women around town—even if he'd never slept with any of them. Not a single one of them held his attention the way Justine could by simply breathing.

He was cruel to several when they attempted to turn flirting into something more. Lashing out at them when that happened, telling them they meant absolutely nothing to him was a total jackass move. Hell, his entire freshman year was nothing more than him being a hurt, angry asshole to the entire female population.

He encouraged the flirting, the interest until they were begging to simply be kissed before knocking them down to nothing. Wanting to hurt any woman that came near him, so they'd never try it again. So someone else would hurt just as badly as he was without Justine. At the time, it'd kept the pain of not having Justine next to him at bay. Letting the disgust at the idea of another woman touching him to overtake him in those moments. But it was always short-lived.

The first summer she hadn't come home showed him that she had meant it when she said she loved him too much to be near him and not be with him. It was the same way he felt, and he'd told himself that if she ever returned he would make her his again—fully that time no matter what their families might think. Then another year passed without her around, then another, and another, during each his need to have her overtook the better part of his life until he'd convinced himself he hated her as much as the Andersons hated the Crawfords.

He'd destroyed the wildflowers he'd planted for her on the fifth anniversary of her being gone. He doused them with the alcohol from the bottle he had nearly downed and set a match to them. The charred remains of it and the gazebo was now etched into his memory, the reminder that not even destroying what was special to them could destroy his desire for her.

To this day, no one knew he was the person to torch the area. They simply believed he had graciously repaired the damage to the grounds, replanted the wildflowers, and recreated the gazebo because it was what he did. Really, it was because he had to have a small piece of her in his life still.

The next year he was amazed to find that not even the fire had killed the tulips he'd originally planted for her. The burning hearts bloomed in greater numbers than ever before, and he'd stopped ignoring the place and instead planted more each time he needed a reminder about what type of torture love could inflict.

Planting allowed him to let his anger out while still sheltering his love for her, and now she was back in town. Just when he'd finally accepted that she would never return, four weeks before his wedding, she was suddenly, unexpectedly back, throwing him into a tailspin he didn't know how to get out of without causing more damage to those around him.