Beauty Awakened

by Allyson Lindt

  Beauty Awakened

  Subscribe, Live, Love Book 4

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Beauty Awakened (Subscribe, Live, Love, #4)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Also By Allyson Lindt

  About the Author

  For my eternal dragon

  Chapter One

  Nathan was weary. Not the kind of tired that came from almost twenty hours of travel, but the sort of exhaustion that settled into the bones and gnawed at the soul.

  He cranked the heater on his rental car another notch, and merged into the outbound traffic from O’Hare International.

  It was almost nine at night, and traffic was still heavy. It thinned the farther he got from the airport, with empty stretches of freeway sprawling out across the flat landscape.

  A heavy stone sat in his stomach. Should he head to his father’s home first, or check into his hotel? His Aunt Christine was expecting him. Or, she had been five hours ago when he was scheduled to arrive.

  Some asshole had flown a drone out over the runway at Heathrow airport, where he met his connecting flight, and it grounded all planes for several hours.

  Nathan had called Christine to say that he’d be by tonight. He’d also called Tara to let her know he’d finished the first leg of his flight, and that he missed her. Neither had answered, and there were no replies waiting for him when he landed in Chicago.

  Tara’s lack of response hurt a lot more than Christine’s.

  He navigated the streets almost on auto-pilot. He’d been back to the States several times over the last decade or so. The most recent trip was to San Jose a couple years ago, when Tara was making a last-ditch effort to save things with Marco, and Nathan couldn’t stick around and watch.

  But he hadn’t been in Chicago in more than fifteen years. The buildings had changed. There were more of them, spanning farther, as he headed toward the suburbs, but the route was the same one he’d learned to drive on.

  He needed to call Tara. Let her know he was here. Or text her, since it was the middle of the night there. What was he going to say? He could go brief. Compose a lengthy apology and repeat everything he’d already said. Which could either drive home how much he meant it, or piss her off.

  Probably a little of both.

  He took the appropriate Schaumburg exit, and a new layer of weight settled in. All the thoughts and feelings he’d tried to ignore rushed back, carried on the perspective of a teenage him. The hurt, betrayal, and anger when his father disowned him. The fury he’d used to smother grief when he finally left this place. The finger he’d flipped the entire city as his bus left the skyline behind, and he forced himself to move on.

  It all built in a tight ball that surged in his throat and clenched like a fist around his lungs until he gasped to draw a breath. He wasn’t that kid anymore. He’d lived such an incredible life since then, and there was still more waiting out there.

  And with any luck, his father wasn’t the same person either.

  The tightness in his chest amplified when he turned onto the street where he grew up. By the time he parked along the curb in front of his childhood home, he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles ached. He forced himself to take slow, steady breaths. The lights in the brick ranch-style home were all out.

  He was grateful for the couple extra minutes to compose himself as a fresh wave of memories rushed over him. Some of them sliced through him like daggers, cutting him to the bone. But they weren't all bad. He’d learned to ride a bike on that sidewalk. Sat on the back porch when he was fourteen, and told his mother he liked both boys and girls, and been so relieved when she gave him ice cream and told him she was proud of him.

  But the pleasant was always tainted with bitterness. His father wasn’t understanding at all, and it wasn’t long after that she left Nathan’s father for another woman. That cascaded into Nathan being kicked out when he refused to admit his attraction to men was just a phase. And his mother dying a few years later.

  Her death wasn’t related to the other events, but the fact that Nathan refused to see her—blamed her for all of it—was.

  He hated the part of himself that made those selfish, ill-informed decisions. That regret was a huge part of the reason he made this trip. He didn’t realize it until he was on the plane, but he didn’t want to imagine another helping of the same, if he didn’t try to make things right with his father.

  Headlights flared through the windshield, and a car pulled into the driveway.

  He bottled up all aspects of his past, and a stashed it on a top shelf in his mind.

  His aunt got out of the car, and strolled toward him. He joined her, meeting her halfway across the lawn.

  “Nathan. I’m glad you made it.” Her smile was tight. She gave him a hug that she seemed as relieved to pull away from as he was.

  Nathan didn’t have the mental capacity for much small talk. “How is he?”

  “Stable for now. Enough so that I could break away long enough to come pick up some last-minute things for him. I’m heading back to the hospice home in a few minutes.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Nathan didn’t know what else to say. A stiff breeze tore around them, the humid chill biting into his face. He shivered and pulled his coat tighter. The lightweight leather was perfect for winter in Milan. Here? It just mocked Jack Frost.

  Christine looked him over. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you check into your hotel and get a few hours of sleep? You can come visit in the morning.”

  His response stuck in his throat, lodged with memories he was desperately trying to hold at bay. He hadn’t expected to stay here or with her. It hurt anyway that she hadn’t offered or even asked if he was set for lodging.

  She studied her feet. “I’d give you a key, but I don’t know that your father would like you staying here.”

  “It’s fine. I understand.” Replying was better than focusing on the fact that she’d called her father by his middle name, rather than Nate. The name he’d gone by when Nathan was growing up. Did his father hate him so much, he didn’t want to keep the name he shared with his son?

  Nathan was rea
ding way too much into things. He needed rest. “I’ll stop by in the morning. I’ll call first,” he said.

  “Great. See you then.” She turned away toward the house.

  He was grateful she didn’t try to give him another hug. He stood with his feet frozen to the ground for a moment, before forcing himself to walk back to the car.

  Now to find a nearby motel and crash for a few hours. He’d passed one on the freeway that was only about ten minutes away. He didn’t care about amenities. Sleep was his priority.

  Twenty minutes later, he was checked in, and sitting on a lumpy mattress, surrounded by the lingering scent of disinfectant. He’d take that over obvious grime.

  When he left this city, a place like this was a reward for good work. He’d struggled to save enough money for a bus ticket out of town.

  Now he earned a steady paycheck. More than he’d ever dreamed of making when he was younger.

  The new train of thought should have been a welcome change from the meandering into his past. Instead, a new voice asked if it was odd at all that he and Tara still kept separate bank accounts. That he drew a paycheck instead of sharing funds like a real couple.

  We are a real couple. The rest is to keep the books simple to manage.

  So why did it gnaw at his senses now?

  His phone buzzed, and he grasped at it, grateful for the external distraction.

  It was a text from Tara, with a ten-hour old-time stamp on it.

  Text me when you land, so I know you’re safe.

  The simple note made him smile. He wanted to be upset it hadn’t been delivered when he landed, but he’d used up most of his irritation for the night.

  He wanted to call her back, but she’d be sleeping, and she asked for a text. He still didn’t know what to say.

  Hovering his fingers over the screen for a moment, he let them do the thinking. Made it safely to Chicago. I love you. I miss you. Your voice. Your laugh. Everything about you. And I’m sorry.

  Nathan hit send, then settled back on his bed to watch the ceiling. His exhaustion had passed that point where sleep would come easily, and was inching toward sending anxious jitters through his limbs.

  His phone rang, startling him. When he saw Tara’s name on the screen, a half-laugh, half-sob of relief tore from his chest. “Hallo.” He couldn’t keep the weariness from his voice.

  “I’m glad you’re safe.” She sounded tired too, but her voice was the most amazing salve.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t. Please? Don’t apologize again. Take care of things there, and we’ll have a real conversation when you’ve got it sorted out.”

  He hated the idea of leaving things between them unsettled, but she was talking to him again and that was a start. It was tempting to push the issue, but with them both this kind of worn-out, the conversation may end worse than it started. “All right. Get some sleep?”

  “I’ll try. You too.”

  He smiled. “I will. I love you.”

  A long pause stretched over the line, and he didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she said, “I love you too. Call me tomorrow, your time.”

  “I will.” He didn’t want to hang up. He wanted to keep her on the line all night and day, listening to her talk, finding a way to make her laugh, until it was time for him to head home again.

  Because anyplace with Tara was home. This place hadn’t been for almost two decades.

  He forced all the tension from his body, but it wasn’t as simple to strip it from his mind. How was he going to sleep?

  The jangling of his phone jarred him awake. It took him a few seconds of prying his eyes open and blinking past the blurriness to see it was five in the morning.

  At least he’d gotten some sleep. “‘Lo?” He mumbled into the mouthpiece.

  “Nathan. Your father’s vitals are failing. He’s on an do not resuscitate, so if he flatlines, they won’t try to bring him back. If you’re going to say goodbye, you should come do it now.”

  And the mess from last night was back, churning in a nasty ball of bile and uncertainty. He was no longer an adult. He was a sixteen-year-old, terrified and furious and frustrated all at once.

  Why was he doing this again?

  Because he needed to know. He needed to try to make things right with his father, or he’d never have reconciliation. He’d always be saddled with regret.

  That wasn’t as reassuring as he wanted it to be.

  Chapter Two

  When Nick decorated his apartment, he had no qualms about copying his favorite rooms from the IKEA catalog. It was sleek, clean, and functional.

  And the only signs that he was the one living there, were the photos of his family dotted on bookshelves.

  He wanted more color in here. More personality. A sign that an actual person occupied the space. It didn’t feel like home.

  Then again, he didn’t know if it could as long as he was the only person living here. It was an odd thought. He’d lived alone for years, and now he wanted company?

  He plugged his laptop into an outlet in the dining room, and set it on the table. He’d been working in the guest room that doubled as a home office, since he got home a couple days ago. This morning he was meeting with Fiona and Wyatt, and there was space in here for all three of them to plug in.

  Nick was reviewing their meeting agenda when he heard the deadbolt slide open.

  “Anyone home?” Fiona’s call was light and happy.

  “In here.”

  The stepped into view before he finished speaking. Wyatt carried both their laptop bags, and held Fiona’s good hand.

  Traces of a smile lingered on her face. She looked happier than Nick had seen her in a long time.

  “Look at you, dressed all casual.” She nodded at Nick. “Take you out of the office, and all sense of order and propriety falls apart.”

  “Or we’re not worth wearing a tie for,” Wyatt teased. He set her machine up to Nick’s, and his own on her other side.

  Nick couldn’t help but notice Wyatt placed Fiona so her broken arm would be closer to Nick. Not that he had an issue with that. “You’re lucky I put on pants.”

  They both chuckled, but Fiona stopped short, and furrowed her brow. She stepped closer, staring at a spot Nick couldn’t determine.

  When she lightly jabbed his bicep, just under his sleeve, he knew why.

  “When did you get inked?” She asked.

  One of many things he hadn’t shared details on yet. He pulled up his sleeve to expose the entire design. “Right after I got to Italy.”

  Fiona gasped, and traced along the knot. “I saw this video. I had no idea it was you. It looks even more amazing in person. Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “It slipped my mind.” He shrugged. And it had. So much had happened, on that day and on the entire trip, and a lot of it would never get shared. At least, the more intimate details.

  “I love it.” She settled into her seat. “But be careful. You keep making decisions like that, and someone might think you’re not completely respectable.”

  He grinned at the playful jab. Things were so tense between them when he left, and this felt more like what he was used to. It was good to be back on friendly terms with Fiona.

  “Does it mean anything? The art, that is. Or is it just a neat pattern?” Wyatt asked.

  The story behind why he had it meant so much more than he was willing to say. “Nathan designed it.” The words almost stuck in his throat, and he didn’t know why. He managed to keep the mental stutter from slipping into his voice. It wasn’t like the ink was racy. It was simply custom.

  But the memories around what led up to it, and those that came after, both the good and the bad... teasing images of his time with Tara and Nathan sent heat racing through him.

  Were Tara and Nathan going to be okay?

  Not where his mind needed to be. “I won’t tell that I’m not completely straight-laced if you won’t.”

  “You really
are.” Wyatt argued.

  Nick shook his head and bit back the If you only knew that raced to the tip of his tongue. “We should get some work done. Make some decisions before Wyatt has to leave for his next meeting.”

  They had a full agenda. Analyzing what equipment had been destroyed. Discussing finding a new building. Figuring out which employees were working and who wasn’t. Fiona’s development team was set, which was good for ensuring the cash flow wouldn’t stop. Their tech support guy was taking calls. Wyatt put a lot of stop-gaps in place while Fiona was in the hospital.

  “It kept me from panicking about her,” Wyatt said. “I think the nurses and staff might have killed me if I hadn’t kept my mind occupied.”

  Nick expected to doubt his sincerity, but he believed Wyatt. “I know I said it already, but thank you. For keeping us online, and more importantly for taking care of Fiona.”

  “I told you he wasn’t all bad.” Fiona nudged Nick’s arm with her elbow.

  Wyatt shook his head. “I really am. Don’t go telling people otherwise. I have a reputation.”

  She tilted in her chair to rest her head on Wyatt’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Let the world keep thinking you’re just a big bad wolf.”

  Nick hadn’t seen them together like this before. Wyatt made the occasional appearance in Parker’s videos, but he was more reserved. Now, he was grinning, he doted on Fiona as though nothing was more valuable, and the two were almost always in contact with each other. It was similar to the way Justin and Antonio acted around each other. And Nathan and Tara.

  Nick didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but Fiona and Wyatt had a spark that was hard to ignore.

  The meeting shifted back to what they wanted to do about a building. Hunting one down this close to Christmas probably guaranteed a more agreeable landlord, but would their people be okay working at home long term?

  It was cheaper, as long as everything ran smoothly. They decided to keep an eye on both the current situation, and properties, and assess as they went.

  Nick didn’t like the uncertainty of the plan, but it made sense from a financial perspective.