Despite Ashfield flourishing over the last couple of decades, there were still families who struggled, especially as more and more developers moved close by and grocery stores stopped selling locally grown produce. My family and a lot of neighboring vendors did our part the best we could. Even though we lived in a small town, and everyone knew most things about everyone, there were still secrets that lingered. Sometimes, it was in everyone’s best interest to keep quiet, usually to not embarrass someone.

“Are you heading back to the farm, or over to Talon’s?” I asked, referring to my brother-in-law, who was Dean’s best friend.

“Yeah, I have some work to do in Knoxville, then I’ll be traveling. You probably won’t get to see my handsome mug for a couple of weeks. I know that devastates you.”

Pretending to be in shock, I slammed my hand against my chest, my mouth falling open. “Whatever shall I do while I wait for your return?” I asked in an over-the-top Southern accent, reminiscent of actresses in classic movies.

I began loading the back of the truck with the empty crates, stacking them in the way my mom preferred. Dean had to answer another call, so I hauled the last crate into the back and shut the tailgate.

Off in the distance, I vaguely heard the sound of a name being called, but I ignored it and continued to tear down the booth setup. Without Dean’s help, I struggled with the canopy and unlatching the legs.

“Dammit!” I hissed as the metal button pinched my thumb.

The shouting continued across the lot, and I quickly realized the name they were calling was mine.

“Aspen!”

Turning around, I was nearly tackled by my best friend Jenna as she dashed over to me.

“Aspen, oh my gosh,” she said as she leaned forward, hands on her knees, as she worked to catch her breath.

“Jenna, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

At that moment, Dean must have ended his call, because he stepped up beside me with a puzzled look on his face.

“She having a heart attack?” he asked as she reached out for my arm while she huffed. Jenna had a naturally athletic-looking build but had never worked out a day in her life. I would’ve hated her if she hadn’t been my closest friend since we were in preschool.

I didn’t acknowledge his question but slapped him across the stomach, then took a step closer to Jenna.

“You okay?” I asked as I rested my hand on her back, gently sliding it up and down to comfort her.

“Yes,” she finally responded, straightening, and that’s when I noticed her hand tightly gripping her phone. “Aspen, have you seen the gossip channels this morning?”

“You know that’s more your cup of tea. I stay away from all that stuff.” Ever since my older sisters married people who were in the public eye, I steered clear of the tabloids. I didn’t know how they dealt with it. Seeing nasty, fake headlines posted about someone I love would’ve been too much for me.

Out the corner of my eye, I watched as Dean slipped his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling. What he was looking for, I wasn’t sure.

“Well, you need to read this.” Jenna shoved her phone into my hand, ignoring the fact that I held my aching thumb in my opposite fist.

“What am I looking for?” I asked as I typed in her passcode.

“You’ll know when you see it.”

On her screen, I scrolled through the articles until one caught my attention, and my entire body lit up like grand-finale fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“No way. Is this real?” I asked, my giddiness bubbling up to the surface as I suppress a laugh.

“It is.”

“Oh my gosh. This is the best thing I’ve read in weeks.”

Beside me, Dean asked, “What is it?”

I read the headline aloud. “Baseball Star, Owen Ramsey, Left at the Altar During Tropical Destination Wedding.”

“Oh damn.” Dean winced.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for him. Believe me when I say he deserves all the worst kind of karma.” Turning my attention back to the screen, I skimmed through the article, noting how the surprise nuptials had very few attendants, mostly her friends and family. I knew for a fact that his mother hadn’t been there, since I saw her yesterday. “Oh, shit,” I mumbled as I read the last line.

“What?” Jenna questioned as she ripped the phone out of my hand and read over the words on the screen. “Oh, shit.”

“Will someone please fill me in?” Dean inquired as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Jenna replied immediately, her eyes darting over to me, “Owen’s coming home.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I let the words sink in. Owen never visited Ashfield. It was a fluke when he showed up for the wedding with his mom. Rumor was they were settling his father’s estate that weekend and she convinced him to be her plus-one. He’d been invited to every festival, every town parade, every graduation… but he never accepted the requests. I didn’t keep up with his life, unlike everyone else in town, but from what I knew, Owen was more than content to view Ashfield as nothing more than a memory. It was something I couldn’t fathom. The man had the world at his fingertips but couldn’t so much as take the time to call his old friends nor his family.

“Oh no,” I whispered. “I wonder if Beverly knows.”

Chapter Two – Owen

My eyes felt dry and crusty as I pried them open. I lifted my head off the table in the airport lounge as the boarding group of first-class passengers was called. I smacked my lips as the cotton feeling transferred to my taste buds. It felt like I was coming off a three-day bender, even though I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since my wedding day. Well, what would have been my wedding day.

Being left at the altar should have been the most embarrassing moment of my life. Instead, that was eclipsed by finding my fiancée and her male best friend doing their own horizontal tango in the reception hall right next to the ten-thousand dollar cake she had to have. What made it worse was that the small gathering of wedding guests witnessed it along with me.

I stood there dumbfounded for a solid minute before I realized what was happening. My best friend, Marc, tried to shield me from the chaos erupting before my eyes, but I shoved him away as I made my way toward the couple.

Vanessa and I locked eyes, but her pal, Francisco, didn’t relent from his pounding into her. I wasn’t sure if he even knew anyone was there, or if he just didn’t care. As I moved toward them, her eyes grew wider with my every step, and then I watched her mouth fall open as she screamed out her orgasm—something I had seen her do hundreds of times—as I cut into our wedding cake and plated a slice. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if she screamed from pleasure, or anger at the fact that I ruined the dessert.

“Help yourself, everyone!” I shouted to the crowd as my ex-fiancée tried to scurry away from Francisco. I left the room without a backward glance, Marc and Brent hot on my heels.

Now, beside my arm on the table, I watched my phone light up again for the thousandth time over the last three days. Vanessa’s name flashed, and I flipped it over so I didn’t have to look at her face again. I gave my lawyer strict instructions for getting Vanessa out of my house by the time I returned. I knew he’d get it taken care of.

In the meantime, I was more distraught about where I was headed, not so much about the events that occurred recently. It was a place I vowed to never return to unless it was necessary. I never understood why my mom didn’t leave at the first chance she got.

As I left the lounge and headed toward the boarding area, I tugged my ball cap farther down in an attempt to mask my face. The prying eyes were like lasers searing my skin.

“Sir, can I help you with your bag?” the flight attendant asked, as I left my hard case of bats at the gate check and proceeded into the plane with my carry-on.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” I grumbled as I stored the small piece of luggage in the cubby above me, then settled into my seat. I booked the three seats in my row, because I needed both the leg room and the privacy.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed again, and I worried it was another incessant call from Vanessa, but I was waiting for a call from both my coach and agent, so I couldn’t just ignore it. Glancing at the device, I winced as I realized it was none of those options. My mom’s name was flashing on the screen. I thought about ignoring it, like I had over the years. We talked, but not nearly as much as some of my teammates and their parents. With us, it was all forced. Nothing personal, ever.

I begrudgingly pressed the green button and held the phone up to my ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Owen, is it true? Are you coming home?” she asked, elation weaving through her voice.

Squirming in my chair, I wondered if the relentless messages from Vanessa had to do with our lack of marital bliss hitting the gossip rags. I knew it was only a matter of time before the story would leak. I’d already met with the team’s PR group, which was why I was headed to the last place I wanted to be. This morning must have been the day of the drop. Tabloids were probably running wild with the story. I could see it now: One of the Country’s Hottest and Highest-Paid Baseball Players Now a Jilted Groom.