Long Road Home by Joann Ross Page A

opened that day at the hospital, things would have been so different.
    “Because you and your dad were in Vegas. I decided to wait until you got back home so we could talk about it in person. Make plans on how you could nudge things back on track and move forward. Unfortunately, my crystal ball failed to tell me that you were going to get shitfaced and marry some cowboy you’d known all of one night.”
    “Waking up with the only hangover of my life. And a husband whose name I could barely remember.” Austin had never been much of a drinker. An occasional beer or glass of wine, but that night, after reading Sawyer’s email, she’d gone downstairs to the hotel bar and discovered cosmos. Which had been pretty, sweet tasting, and, she’d discovered the hard way, lethal.
    “But that’s in the past.” She shook off regrets she couldn’t do anything about. “My point was that you guys have a romantic weekend planned. You’re going to Ashland to stay in that romantic B&B and see a play—”
    “And don’t forget have lots of hot, swing-from-the-chandelier sex that doesn’t involve worrying a kid’s going to walk in or knock on the bedroom door.”
    “That too. Although now that you’ve put that chandelier sex in my head, I really do have to hate you.”
    “You can have that,” Heather said, turning serious after a rippling laugh. “You and Sawyer. You’re both way overdue.”
    Austin couldn’t deny that. When they’d been checking out the inside of the cabin together, she’d felt as if she’d stumbled into a pinball machine and was being bombarded with pheromones.
    “Why am I feeling like high school?” she asked. “This reminds me uncomfortably of when Tom had Sawyer ask me if I thought you’d be willing to go steady with him.”
    “Right after I asked you to ask Sawyer to ask Tom if he was going to ask me to the Moonlight and Mistletoe Dance,” Heather agreed. “And yes, it does seem freakily familiar, though may I point out that if you two had figured out your feelings back then, we wouldn’t be having to go through this Kabuki theater routine now . . .
    “As for our anniversary, we can leave after dinner. It’s only an hour, maybe an hour and a half out of our weekend, and if it gets you two past this stupid emotional roadblock, it’ll be the best present yet. Of course, I expect to be in the wedding.”
    “Of course.” Austin waved away the idea of Heather not being her attendant. “If we do end up at the altar.”
    “You will.”
    “I can’t imagine Tom would be very happy with this idea.”
    “He’s all in. Rachel has already agreed to create a fancy dinner at the café for the four of us, after which Tom and I will drive to Ashland and be tangling the sheets by nine. Ten, at the latest. We’ll still have our fantasy anniversary, and then Monday, when we drive up to Portland with Mitzi to get our dresses for Rachel and Cooper’s upcoming wedding, you can tell us all about your hot weekend.”
    The thought was too, too tempting. But Austin still wasn’t sure. Although her marriage had never been a true one, at least as far as her lying, cheating, stealing ex had been concerned, once she’d awakened that morning and found the cheap gold ring on her left hand, she’d decided that she’d try her best to live up to her vows. Even as she’d had increasing indications that Jace wasn’t living up to that “forsaking all others” clause, she’d wanted to make things work.
    At least that’s what she’d tried telling herself.
    As it turned out, he hadn’t been the only liar in her marriage. Because from the flood of relief she’d experienced when she received that text saying her husband had found someone else, she realized that she’d been lying to herself.
    The national finals were the last rodeo she and her dad had worked before she’d finally gotten him to go to Ryan about his symptoms. While Ryan had suspected PPS, he’d sent them to Portland for extensive tests.