Long Road Home: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Read online

  PRAISE FOR J.W. ASHLEY’S NOVELS

  OLIVE YOU

  “An enjoyable compilation of short stories about a group of girlfriends who are searching for true love. Each story stands alone, but they are interconnected. A great read!”

  -Amazon Reviewer

  “This book takes you through a whole year of ups and downs in their love life. Humor is woven into serious times and romance always wins out. “

  -Gma L (Amazon Reviewer)

  THE LUMBERJACK EFFECT

  “…the type of story that clutches you at once and does not release you until you get to the end…”

  -Sleep Reader (Amazon Reviewer)

  “Hot, sexy lumberjack with a heart of gold? Yes please!”

  -Book Lover Merci (Amazon Reviewer)

  BOOKS BY J.W. ASHLEY

  The Corrupted Trilogy

  Rescuing Norah

  Shielding Jemma

  Targeting Celeste

  Olive You

  The Lumberjack Effect

  Long Road Home

  Long Road Home

  J.W. Ashley

  To all those battling their own inner demons…

  KEEP FIGHTING.

  Your happy ending is right around the corner.

  Long Road Home

  by J.W. Ashley

  Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Dawn

  Proofread by Dominique Diaz

  Cover Design by Pink Ink Designs

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Macey

  2. Lincoln

  3. Macey

  4. Macey

  5. Macey

  6. Macey

  7. Lincoln

  8. Macey

  9. Macey

  10. Macey

  11. Lincoln

  12. Macey

  13. Lincoln

  14. Macey

  15. Lincoln

  16. Macey

  17. Macey

  18. Macey

  19. Macey

  20. Macey

  21. Macey

  22. Lincoln

  23. Macey

  24. Lincoln

  25. Macey

  26. Lincoln

  27. Macey

  28. Macey

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also By J.W. Ashley

  Fantasy By Jessica Wayne

  Prologue

  Macey

  Fifteen.

  I feel like I’m on top of the world now. I mean, I’ll be moving into my sophomore year of high school next year, no longer the bottom of the pond for Macey Romano. I get to apply for my learner’s permit this year, which means driving is right around the corner. And in three years, I leave for college.

  All of it so close. And who knows, maybe this year will bring more firsts for me. Maybe my first kiss. I look over to where my best friend, Lincoln, is helping my dad put up our tent for the weekend.

  Since Mom isn’t a big camper, it’s just the three of us, and honestly, I couldn’t be happier. Lincoln looks up at me and smiles, the dimples on either side of his mouth making my stomach feel like it’s packed full of butterflies. His bright blue gaze turns back to my dad, and I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

  Turning, I reach and lift another branch to add to our pile of firewood. The sky above is crystal blue—nearly matching the color of Lincoln’s eyes. I smile as I picture them. We’re two years apart—him slightly older than me, and we’ve spent more time together than I’ve spent with pretty much anyone else.

  Even my friend Charlie—the only girl I actually get along with. I’ve had a crush on Lincoln for what feels like forever, and tonight, I’m hoping I get a chance to tell him. Dad keeps a pretty good watch on us when we’re together, but sometimes he lets us sit by the fire or go for a walk together.

  Just the two of us.

  I grab another twig and straighten just as a light gust of wind sends my dark hair flying over my face. Crud. Since my hands are full, I try to blow it out of my eyes, but it doesn’t work, and all I end up doing is making it worse.

  Lincoln laughs, and I turn my attention to him and my dad. My cheeks heat when I realize he’s laughing at me.

  “Hang on, Macey, I’ve got you.” He runs over toward me, making my heart stammer with each step.

  When he reaches up to brush the hair out of my face, our gazes lock, and my stomach feels like someone dumped about a thousand more of those fluttering insects inside. “Thanks,” I say. Why does he make me so nervous now? It’s not like we’ve never gone camping before.

  “No problem. Want me to get those?” he asks, gesturing to the wood in my arms.

  I shake my head and smile. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  He grins, and I wonder if it’s actually possible to swoon like the women do in those old movies Mom likes to watch. “You’ve got it.”

  “You two finish up with that firewood!” Dad calls. “I’ve got this handled.”

  “Okay, Mr. Romano!” Lincoln reaches into my arms and grabs the stack I’ve gathered before setting it beside our soon-to-be fire. “Let’s see if we can find some more just in the tree line.”

  “Okay.” My reply is barely audible over the birds chirping overhead, but he starts walking toward the trees anyway.

  “How does it feel to be fifteen?” he asks.

  “Pretty cool. I’m ready to be able to drive.” I wish I could take the words back. Even though Lincoln is already sixteen, his dad refuses to let him get his license because he doesn’t think Lincoln is responsible enough for it.

  Which he totally is. His dad has just spent the last two years wrapped up in his own grief, not paying any attention to his son. I look up at Lincoln. Hands in his pockets, he looks okay, but I know this time of year is hard for him.

  We’re nearing April, and with it, the second anniversary of his mom’s death.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He looks at me and forces a smile. I know him well enough to see the pain behind it. “Yeah. Besides, this weekend is about you and how you’re turning into an old woman.” He runs into the trees, and I race to catch up. He may be fast, but years of running track have made me faster. I pass him quickly, and soon I’m racing through the trees, laughing wildly with him on my heels.

  That’s the thing about Lincoln. No matter how dark things have gotten for him—and believe me, they’ve gotten dark—he always finds a way to be happy, to turn to the light. I admire that about him.

  I don’t know what I’d do if anything like that ever happened to me.

  “Hey, Macey!” he calls out, and I stop. Breaths coming out in ragged gasps, I turn to look at him.

  “Check this out!” he says just as he moves out of view.

  I run over to him. “Hey, Linc, wait up!” Roaring fills my ears as I push through the trees and brush. I find him standing at the base of a pond with a large waterfall spilling into it. As soon as I move beside him, I can feel the light spray, cold droplets of water that make my face damp.

  The roaring of the water is so loud I can no longer hear my own ragged breathing. How did I not hear tha
t when I passed it? Lincoln did though. He’s always noticed things easier than me. I could walk right past a snake and not see it until it bites me. But not Lincoln. No, he sees everything.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say with a smile.

  He doesn’t look at me, just moves closer to the water. “I didn’t know it was here.”

  “Maybe no one does,” I say.

  Piercing blue eyes look back at me. “That would make us explorers, wouldn’t you say?”

  I grin, unable to hide my amusement at his mention of the game we used to play when we were younger, hunting through the trees for treasure or searching the ground for wild animals from the safety of our treehouse.

  I move closer to him, standing at the edge of the pond. The force of the water hitting the surface is enough to create a small breeze, so it feels like Lincoln and I are in our own little world. Just the way I like it.

  “Want to see what’s behind it?” he asks, mischief making his blue eyes glitter like the surface of the water beneath the sun.

  “What?”

  “There’s always something behind a waterfall. Come on.” He holds his hand out, and I take it, not bothering to put much thought into anything else. If Lincoln goes, I follow. Two pieces of the same whole. Best friends for life. And perhaps, one day, something more.

  My hand slips into his larger one, and he pulls me along the side of the waterfall. As we reach the cliffside, he releases me. “I’m going to go first.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Don’t worry, Macey. I’ve got this. If there’s a dragon though—I might become dinner.”

  Lips pursed, I cross my arms. “Stop being stupid.”

  “I can’t. It’s in my blood.” With one last smile, he steps up onto the wet rock. I unfold my arms and move closer, ready to catch him if he falls.

  Soon though, he disappears behind the water, and I’m left with nothing but the hammering sound of the waterfall.

  A minute later, a hand appears out from the space between the fall and cliffside, and I take it without hesitation. He pulls me in, and I slam into him, knocking us both back. Laughing, Lincoln wraps his arms around me, his chest vibrating with the force of his amusement.

  “Stop it, you pulled too hard.” I slap him away, embarrassed.

  Reaching forward, he brushes wet hair from my cheek. Our gazes meet again, and this time, there’s no amusement. He’s looking at me the same way I’ve seen the heroes of my mom’s movies looking at the heroines.

  It’s magical, this pull he has over me, and when he leans forward, my stomach flips. His eyes close, the brilliant blue disappearing as he gets closer, and I tip my head up.

  Our lips meet. A brief whisper of a kiss, but to me, it comes with the force of a tsunami. While water roars around us, Lincoln steals my breath with the tenderness but pulls away too soon.

  “Happy birthday, Macey.” He smiles, and my cheeks heat.

  I don’t know what to say. Thank you seems far too cheesy for this moment, so I choose to look around the cavern instead. Wet rock surrounds us, the water before us, and if I thought I felt like we were in our own world before—

  “You okay?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  I look back over at him and smile. “Never been better.”

  He grins, and I know, without a doubt, fifteen is going to be my year. I can’t explain it, but it’s like a bone-deep knowing. Just like I know I’ll love Lincoln Calloway for the rest of my life.

  1

  Macey

  “Hey Macey, you coming out tonight?”

  I look up from my book and smile at my roommate. “Nah, I’m going to stay in.”

  She rolls her bright blue eyes and shakes her head. “You always stay in. How in the world did I get stuck with the world’s most antisocial roommate?”

  “Because I answered your ad,” I reply with a smile and reach over to wrap my fingers around the cold neck of my beer bottle. “And you need my rent money.”

  Kleo sighs and plops down on the couch beside me. Her perfectly manicured hands gently grab my arm and shake. “Come on, Macey, just this once, live a little.”

  “No thanks.”

  She releases me and slaps her hands to her bare knees, the bright pink skirt she is wearing only covering her to mid-thigh. “So you’re going to spend the entire night with that book? What’s it even about anyway?” She leans down and cocks her head to the side, trying to read the title.

  “An overly nosey roommate who gets murdered and fed to the sharks,” I say, grinning over at her.

  She rolls her eyes again, pursing her pink painted lips into a pout. “Real life is so much better than what you can find in books. Don’t you get enough reading done for classes? Why do you have to do it every night too? It’s so boring,” she complains.

  “First of all, if you keep rolling your eyes, they’re going to stick that way. And as far as the reading, real life can’t even touch fiction. That’s kinda the whole point of reading—to escape reality.” I’m used to her disdain for my hobby. It’s something I face with pretty much everyone on and off campus. The only person who gets my love of reading is my gram, and she’s the reason I love it like I do. On my sixteenth birthday, she bought me my very first Nora Roberts book, and since then, I haven’t looked back.

  We even choose the same book once a month and read it together. Our own mini book club we can partake in despite being in different states. She’s my best friend, and while some people may be embarrassed that their gram is their bestie, I’m not. It’s hard to be embarrassed when your gram is as badass as mine is.

  “Whatever. At least call Jace. Let him come show you a good time.”

  I sigh at the mention of my on-again-off-again booty call. Jace Norsden is known on campus as the school’s hottest TA. Basically, he is Florida State’s most eligible bachelor—a future lawyer—and “lucky for me,” I’m the one he chose to give his rose to. Problem is, I don’t want it.

  “We’ll see,” I lie. I have zero intentions of calling him. I have made it perfectly clear that I’m not looking for a relationship, and every chance he gets, he pushes for more.

  But he doesn’t get it. I can’t give more, and I haven’t ever met a man that made me feel like I could.

  Kleo walks to the door and pulls it open. “Last chance,” she offers, and I shake my head.

  “I’m good. Have fun.” I lift my Sam Adams again and look back down at my page, hoping she’ll get the hint. Based on the door slam that follows, she does. I breathe a sigh of relief and reach back to pull my red and black checkered throw blanket down from the back of the couch. I’ve never been much of a partier, something I blame on the one party I went to in high school. It was a total disaster and ruined me for pretty much any social gatherings. It doesn’t matter that ten years have gone by or that I’m living a totally different life on the other side of the country. That night will haunt me forever.

  My phone buzzes, and I reach over, lifting it from the nightstand. “Speak of the devil,” I murmur as I unlock it and open the text from Jace.

  Jace: Hey there, gorgeous. What are you doing tonight?

  I consider what he’s offering because even if it isn’t spelled out, I know what he’s after. Jace is good in bed—better than my last guy—and a night of fun would get Kleo off my back. So I type out my reply, hitting send before I can change my mind.

  Me: Sitting on the couch, you?

  Jace: Thinking about you. His text is accompanied by a selfie, and I shake my head. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a person alive who loves the camera more than Jace. He stares at me from the cracked screen of my phone, shirtless in his bed, his hand down the front of his pants.

  Shoulder-length sandy brown hair loose around his shoulders, the length accents a strong jaw and light brown eyes. He’s clean-shaven, always smooth, his slender body toned from nightly gym visits. I may not be a fan of the selfie, but he is something to look at.

  Me: Want to come over?

  Hi
s response is instant. Jace: Be there in ten.

  I groan and push off the couch, lifting my beer. I tip it up, letting the bubbly liquid slip down the back of my throat. I have half a mind to stay in my raggedy sweatpants and old Garth Brooks T-shirt. Maybe if he sees me in all my relaxing Saturday glory, he’ll leave me the hell alone about a relationship. Because I am absolutely over that conversation.

  Apparently, being adamant about not wanting to be in a relationship is Jace code for, Please continue to harass me repeatedly. Eventually, you might wear me down. I roll my eyes as I regret my decision to invite him over. I could cancel…but even as that thought crosses my mind, I shake it off. Kleo will never let me live it down if she finds out I not only invited him over but uninvited him on the same night.

  I toss my beer bottle into the recycling bin and turn to cross our small living room. My bedroom is neatly organized, each item having its own place, so it doesn’t take me long to find the shorts and tank top I have in mind for tonight’s activities.

  I make my way into my bathroom and step in front of the mirror, seeing a coffee-colored gaze staring back at me, and I mentally prepare for a date I don’t want. My dark hair is in a thick braid down my back, so I quickly undo the band and run my fingers through the thick waves. After applying a little bit of mascara, I step from the room and walk to the fridge.