Page 3 of Crossroads

THREE

“You can bring your stuff in later, but let me show you your room,” my Aunt Kelly says as I follow her into the old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. I got lost four times trying to find this place.

Every time I thought I was on the right track, I wound up on a dead-end road.

The GPS pretty much told me I was shit out of luck.

It finally took me asking a farmer, who was mowing his lawn outside his house and wasn’t too thrilled to have to stop and talk to me, by the way, to lead me to this desolate piece of land.

Seriously, not another house for miles. What the fuck was my mother thinking?

My aunt leads me up stairs that creak under my shoes, and while the house is clean and well taken care of, it’s apparent this house is old as dirt.

She leads me to the end of the hall, pushing open a wooden door that’s as creaky as the stairs and the wood floor leading to it.

“This’ll be your room. It used to be my sons Dakota and Dylan’s room, but they’ve moved out and have families of their own now. ”

“You’re a grandma?” I ask dumbly, looking at the room with two twin beds with old wooden frames that look handmade. There’s a desk, which also looks handmade, with a matching wooden chair. And that’s it.

“I am,” my aunt says proudly, like it’s a badge of honor.

Don’t get me wrong. She seems nice and all, but I have nothing in common with anyone here. I may have only met four people in Kensley today, but all four I can confidently say are nothing like me.

My cousin—Millie. The girl was wearing overalls, boots, and had braided pigtails, for Christ’s sake, despite being a teenager or maybe in her early twenties. And the guy? Jasper?

His. Name. Is. Jasper.

Enough said.

But still, if we must get past just the hillbilly name—the guy is built like a damn truck.

Tall and clearly well-fed—though it seems like he’s turned most of that food into pure muscle.

His sandy blond hair was cut on the short side, though not down to his scalp, and his green eyes told me he already doesn’t trust me.

Fine by me. I don’t trust him either.

I don’t trust a soul in this podunk town.

Jasper. Psh.

I didn’t like the way he was eyeing me. Like I didn’t belong here. Like this place is too good for me. Standing there judging me in his ratty T-shirt and jeans. Dirty boots. Get the hell out of here.

“What was his problem?” I blurt out, looking out from the window of the bedroom and spying Jasper and Millie going into the barn.

“Who? Jasper?”

I look back over at my aunt, who’s straightening up the quilt that covers one of the beds. “Yeah.

“He’s protective. He’s a good boy though. He’s worked for John and me for three years, but he comes from a good family here in Kensley.”

A good family where I’m from means money. But something tells me Jasper doesn’t come from money—and oddly enough, I don’t think it would matter to my aunt if he did.

“He seems like a dick.”

Before this moment, I thought my aunt would be a pushover—that bright smile and her calling me family—but I nearly shrink back when I see the fire in her eyes as she gazes at me.

“Don’t use that language around here, first of all.

Second, Jasper is a good kid. He’s family too. And you will get along with him.”

My back straightens, and everything in me wants to rebel. Wants to tell her that’ll never happen or snap that maybe she should have this talk with her employee. But I remember my mother’s words. I want to go to college.

I have to go to college.

There’s no way I can pay for it myself. I just have to get through the next three months. That’s it. So I quell every instinct I have, wanting to tell her off, and just grumble a quick, “Sorry.”

She studies me carefully for a moment. Her blue eyes—eyes that match my mother’s and my own—are narrowed like she can see right through me.

It makes me uneasy, but then she turns on that kind, warm smile again and nods sweetly.

“Okay then. Jasper will be the one to show you around here. He knows what he’s talking about and has a way with animals. ”

I snort at that, getting her attention again but clear my throat, hoping to cover it. She probably sees right through me but goes on anyway.

“What about Millie? Couldn’t she just show me around?”

I don’t know for sure, but something tells me she’d be easier to deal with than that dickhead. Though she didn’t seem to want me here either. Fine by me. We’re all in agreement. That is, except my aunt, of course, who seems hellbent on making the most of my time here, apparently.

She quickly dismisses that. “Millie is attending the local community college, taking classes there, so she won’t be around as much.

Jasper will show you around.” I want to argue, but I won’t.

I just let her go on. “While you’re here, you’ll earn a paycheck every week, paid on Friday.

All three meals are provided, and what’s mine is yours, so feel free to grab a snack from the kitchen when you’re hungry.

You’re expected to be home, in the house, by ten every night. ”

“Wait. I have a curfew?” I ask, absolutely stunned. My parents tried the curfew thing but honestly quit trying to enforce it by the middle of my freshman year. As long as they didn’t get a phone call from the cops in the middle of the night, they didn’t really worry about my whereabouts.

“Ten o’clock. Every night,” she repeats as if I’m hard of hearing and not a grown-ass man questioning an actual curfew being set for him.

My lips thin in a frown, but I don’t argue. Three months.

Not like there’s anything to do in this town anyway.

She leads me back down the stairs to show me the rest of the house that’s so quaint, I want to puke.

Everything seems to have a purpose, including a family room, as she calls it, with a television and two rocking recliners, along with a worn sofa.

I can see the family all gathered in here, watching television together, laughing and probably eating popcorn.

The kitchen has a table with a lacy tablecloth thrown over it and six chairs. The appliances are old and well-used but taken care of. It’s the complete opposite of my parents’ house, which is modern and sleek and barely looks like anyone lives there.

I don’t miss it. But I don’t feel at home here either.

When we go back outside, I notice Millie and Jasper leaning against the barn, just hanging out.

They look pretty comfortable with each other, and I wonder briefly if they’re a thing.

Not that it matters to me. It’s not like I know my cousin at all—there’s no protective streak here from me—even though I already know Jasper isn’t good enough for her.

The way he’s eyeing me right now with an angry glint in his eyes tells me how right I am. Prick.

“Millie, get going to your class. Jasper, show Emerson around the property.” Her eyes meet mine, silently telling me to behave and mind her orders.

Something tells me she’s not used to anyone arguing with her.

“Emerson, go with Jasper, and when you’re done, you can unpack before helping him this afternoon. ”

“Wait, I have to start today?” I ask, dumbfounded. I thought she’d let me settle in first.

“Of course,” she says, her brow furrowing as if she’s the one confused. Seriously?

“Whatever,” I grumble, walking over to Jasper, who looks just as happy as I do.

Millie smacks him on the shoulder, her gaze a little mischievous. “Have fun.”

“Yeah, go work on that brain,” Jasper says to her, pointing to his head, and she just cackles before giving her mom a kiss on the cheek and hopping into one of the many trucks parked on the property.

Kelly heads inside, and I’m left with Jasper, both of us just staring the other down.

His eyes slide down over my body, making me itch. I’m not sure why, but I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. I don’t like him. My hackles are raised, and I’m already sick of his shit. “Get ready to dirty up those ridiculous shoes.”

I look down at my feet. “These shoes cost more than your car.”

“Truck,” he corrects, and my eyes lift to meet his in a glare. “And you’re probably right, which means I’m right. They’re fucking ridiculous, especially for farm work.”

“They’ll be fine. Good quality.”

His eyes roll. “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

I hate taking orders, but when I glance back up at the house, I see Kelly standing at the door, watching carefully. Goddamnit. I really hate my mother right now. What was she thinking, tossing me out here? Feeding me to the wolves.

She can say she didn’t want to get rid of me all she wants, but her sending me out here was setting me up to fail. She has to know that.