Her struggle was too familiar to him for him not to want to help her.
Lon: You’re scaring me, Bryant. Don’t fuck with that family. With your pretty-boy looks, you can get any woman you want. You don’t need this one.
Bryant tossed aside his phone. Lon was right—not about him being able to get any woman, but about the real trouble he could bring his company by involving himself in Westerly business. He took out his laptop and tried to forget the yearning he’d seen in Nicolette’s eyes when she’d asked him to stay. He paused from reading an email to savor the memory of her taste, the feel of her body against his. He almost smiled as he remembered some of her snarky comments and her complete lack of guile.
How had she described herself sober? An angry bitch? Unlovable?
Was that why she was sleeping on a couch in someone’s apartment on the wrong side of town?
He’d lost most of his crowd when his mother had gotten sick. Their world didn’t change just because his had. They couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to party with them, how he could risk a falling-out with his father.
When he’d left his father’s company, many he’d considered friends had stopped taking his calls. More than one had told him he’d be nothing without his father’s money. Hitting rock bottom taught people a lot about both themselves and those around them.
Lon had stuck by him. He wouldn’t be where he was if his friend hadn’t kicked his ass out of the slump that had followed his mother’s death.
Did Nicolette have someone like that in her life?
What he felt for her wasn’t just sexual. Getting laid wouldn’t help him forget how hurt she’d been when her sister had suggested she was an embarrassment to her family. It wouldn’t stop him from wanting to tell her that she deserved to be treated better, no matter what was going on or what bombshell her family had dropped on her.
He sent a text to Alessandro to ask for her number.
He could have asked how she was, pumped Alessandro for more information about her, but he didn’t. He kept his request simple and to the point, just as he intended to keep things with her.
A moment later her number was in his messages. Waiting for him.
He didn’t do anything with it at first. He wanted to text what he was feeling, but they didn’t know each other well enough for that.
He typed, You’re not alone. But decided it was too cryptic, so he deleted it.
Putting aside his phone, he returned to reading work-related emails before picking up his phone again. He opened his messages and started a new one to her.
Hey, tiger. Hope you’re having a better day. —Bryant
Chapter Four
Despite the fact that the sun was still shining, Nicolette sagged with exhaustion as she made her way through the small airport a few miles outside MacAuley. She’d made sure to hydrate on the flight, but she still had a headache. Long day. She blew a loose curl out of her face as she rode down an escalator to baggage claim, then straightened when she saw a very tall, heavily bearded man in a plaid shirt holding up a bright-pink sign that had her name written on it in glitter.
I like this place already.
She nodded in acknowledgment. He waved enthusiastically and smiled as if he knew her.
“It sure is nice to meet you, Miss Westerly,” he said when she reached him.
“Thank you. It’s great to meet you as well,” she answered.
“I’m Bruce Russo, Paisley’s brother. She sent me to pick you up. Let me carry your bag,” he offered, slipping her carry-on off her shoulder before she even had time to formulate a response. Still smiling, he handed her the sign. “My five-year-old, Tera, made this for you. She’d be here, too, but she had chores to finish. She hasn’t stopped talking about meeting you since she heard you were coming.”
“Thank you. I love it. Your daughter sounds wonderful.”
His smile widened. “She’s a handful, but then so is her mom, and I wouldn’t change a thing about either of them.”
Nicolette nodded and followed him to the luggage turnstile. Where she was from, this level of warmth was reserved for friends. She wasn’t sure how to respond.
As they waited for her luggage to arrive, he introduced her to some of the locals who had flown the last leg of the flight with her. There was Mia, an older woman with a friendly smile that shone first from her dark-chocolate eyes. She was fresh from Detroit, where her daughter had recently had a baby. Nicolette was treated to not only an update on how she was doing but also to several photos of the mother and child. Then there was Hayden, a young man with a classic boy-next-door face, dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie, who was going to college in Cedar Falls but had come back for the weekend to help on his family’s organic farm. He missed his home but had no desire to move back after graduation. Katie and Tom, a tired yet tan young couple, had just returned from a honeymoon cruise. They loved the area and wanted to raise their children there but weren’t sure if staying would be possible.
Katie said the buzz of Nicolette’s arrival had reached them during their travel back. “If you can do half of what Paisley thinks you can, you’ll be our hero. We took over the general store from my father a year ago. Business isn’t what it used to be, because we’re in a population crisis. The more people who leave, the fewer businesses can survive here, the less reason there is for anyone to move here. There was a time when we were worried we’d get too big and have all the problems of city living. Now we’re worried we might disappear, right along with the value of our homes.”
Nicolette felt a bit like a fraud. A hero? She was there to take photographs, maybe build a website. They were talking like she was their last chance to save the town. “I’m happy to be able to help,” she said in a thick voice.
The woman turned to Bruce. “You’d better not dawdle at Paisley’s, not once LeAnne hears how pretty Miss Westerly is.”
Not looking worried at all, Bruce picked up Nicolette’s larger bag as if it weighed nothing. “LeAnne doesn’t worry about stuff like that. No offense, Miss Westerly, but I only have eyes for one woman.”
“None taken. LeAnne sounds like a lucky woman.” Nicolette smiled for the first time since she’d decided to come.
Bruce blushed, but not in a guilty way. He simply seemed uncomfortable with having attention focused on him. “She is. I knew she was the one for me back in sixth grade when she punched Dustin in the nose for picking on me.” Nicolette’s eyes must have shown her surprise that anyone would take on someone of his size. He shrugged. “I didn’t sprout until high school.”
Nicolette smiled again. MacAuley was a town with history, with heart. The people there seemed to know exactly who they were. They made sense like little had in a long time.
Leaving the airport was a lengthy process, as each person she’d met took the time to wish her luck and extend an invitation for her to drop by for a visit. Nicolette climbed into Bruce’s truck and fastened her seat belt. The sound of country music filled the cab when he started the engine. He lowered the volume and pulled out of his parking spot. “No one really expected you to come.”
“No?” His comment took Nicolette by surprise. The jovial man of earlier had been replaced by a very serious one.
“Big-city folk don’t care much about what happens to towns like ours. They think going to church means we judge people, that community means we fear change. They don’t know us. Everyone in this town can trace their roots to somewhere else. LeAnne and I never could afford to see much of the world, but people are people everywhere.”
She’d certainly seen the truth of that in her travels. Race, language, location, and religion didn’t change the fact that parents worried for their children. In every neighborhood, in every country, there were good and bad people. Kind and cruel. Poverty didn’t determine the character of a person.
No matter how good of a first impression the people of MacAuley made, the same variety was there as well. People are people.
Nicolette respected Bruce more
for being up front with her. She would give him the same courtesy. “I’m hoping I’ll be able to help.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re already ahead of everyone else Paisley contacted. You answered her.”
“She asked other people?” Nicolette felt like an idiot the moment it came out of her mouth. “Of course she did. It makes sense that she would have.”
I’m here not because the town thought I was more qualified than anyone else—I’m just the only one who answered. She looked out the window, escaping temporarily into the blur of the cornstalks they passed.
Bruce cursed. “Now I’ve hurt your feelings. I meant that we appreciate you putting your life on hold to come out to help us.”
“I didn’t walk away from that much.”
“Weren’t you in London attending the wedding of Water Bear Man? What’s it like to have a brother who is a Hollywood superhero? It must be a whole lot more exciting than anything you’ll find around here.”
Without looking away from the cornfields they passed, Nicolette shrugged. “My brother did just get married in London, but I couldn’t scramble out of there fast enough. You know how annoying family can be.”
He was quiet for a moment. “My mom always said family is a lot like the seasons. Some are more pleasant than others, but the year wouldn’t be as colorful without all of them.”
“Yeah, well, my mom said a lot of shit she didn’t mean, too.” The silence that followed Nicolette’s declaration stretched on long enough to give her plenty of time to regret venting. “But yours is probably an amazing woman.”
“My mother passed away when I was in high school. She was an incredible person, and I’ll miss her until the day I join her.”
Well, that confirms it. I’m an asshole in Boston, London, and now Iowa. “I’m sorry, Bruce.” She took a deep breath. “I’m tired. Please don’t listen to anything I say.”
Bruce didn’t respond until he parked in the gravel driveway of what looked like a residential home. It was a three-story white farmhouse set against the backdrop of overgrown fields. On the front there was a quaint covered porch with an American flag flying from one of the posts above a carved wooden sign: PAISLEY’S B & B.
“Miss Westerly—”
“Call me Nicolette, please.”
“Nicolette, Paisley and a lot of people in this town are going to open their homes to you because they believe you’re here to help. Are they wrong to? Do you intend to promote our town, or are you running away from something . . . or someone?”
It was a fair question. She wasn’t technically running away, but Nicolette had absolutely come to Iowa mostly because she’d needed to get away. If I were the person they think I am, I wouldn’t be here. I would be off somewhere saving the world instead of hiding from it.
This isn’t going to work.
What did I think coming here would do? That I’d suddenly be a better version of myself? That I might actually do something right for once?
She turned to look him in the eye. “You’re right. I accepted this job because I wanted to get out of London.”
“You in some kind of trouble?”
“No. I’m just looking for a place to clear my head. I don’t know if I have what it takes to help this town, but I’d like to try.”
He rubbed his chin through his thick beard as he considered her words. “I guess that’s all anyone can do.”
As Nicolette slid out of the truck, her cell phone fell from her pocket and bounced on the dirt of the driveway. She picked it up and dusted it off but didn’t turn it on.
Bruce stood beside her, having taken her luggage. “Did you crack the screen?”
“No, thankfully.”
He looked from it to her face. “Don’t you think you should turn it on? Tell your family you made it here okay?”
She tucked the phone back into her pocket. Just before she’d taken off, she’d sent a message to her mother so her family wouldn’t worry, but she’d also written that she needed space. Then she’d turned off the phone. By now her messages would be full of everyone’s opinions about what she’d done. She wasn’t ready to justify her decision to come to Iowa yet or apologize again for leaving early. She just wanted to breathe. “They know where I am.” Sort of.
Bruce didn’t say more on the subject. He carried her things up the steps of the bed-and-breakfast and swung the screen door open while calling out, “Paisley.”
The woman who came rushing to the door to greet them was a strawberry blonde with freckles who looked about Nicolette’s age. Beautiful in a wholesome way. “Bruce, I told you to call me when you were on your way. I haven’t put the meat loaf in the oven.” She wiped her hand on her apron, then shook Nicolette’s. “I’m horrible with time. Hope you’re not too hungry. It’ll be a little bit before it’s ready.”
“I’m fine either way,” Nicolette said to be polite. She was starving.
“Well, come on in,” Paisley said with a wave at the hall behind her. “You must be exhausted after flying all that way. I have a room all set up for you. It’s the first one on the right at the top of the steps. Go up, relax, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
“That sounds lovely.”
A little face stuck out from behind Paisley. Her hair color and features were similar enough to Paisley that she guessed they were related. “Is that Water Bear Man’s sister?”
Eric often said he couldn’t escape his on-screen persona. She definitely saw what he meant. “Hello there, I’m Nicolette Westerly.”
The little girl stepped closer with more confidence. “I’m going to marry your brother when I grow up.”
“Oh, hon, that’s so sweet, but he just got married.”
“To who?” the child demanded, hands on hips.
Whom. Nicolette winced as she heard her grandmother’s voice correct the child in her mind, then did her best to shake off the effect it had on her mood. “To a woman named Sage. There will even be a Mrs. Water Bear Man in his next movie.”
“Is she old?”
“Pardon?”
The little girl tilted her head to one side and spoke as if she were explaining something that should have been obvious. “I still have to grow up. If she’s old, she might be gone by then.”
Paisley burst out laughing. “Bruce, that’s your daughter.”
“Your niece,” Bruce countered and adjusted the bags he was holding so he could take his daughter’s hand. “Tera, it’s not nice to wish death on anyone.”
Completely unrepentant, little Tera said, “She shouldn’t have married my husband.”
Paisley laughed again, and this time Nicolette joined in. Her time in MacAuley wasn’t going to be boring—that much was for sure.
“Let’s get you settled in,” Paisley said.
Nicolette reached to take one of her bags from Bruce, but he shook his head. “You can take her, though,” he said with a smile, holding out his daughter’s hand.
Not expecting her to accept it, Nicolette offered her hand to the young child. Tera took it and guided her into the house, chatting as they went. “Do you think Water Bear Man will come here? Could you ask him to? Can he really fly, or is that just in the movies? If you call him, can you tell him I love him?” She stopped walking abruptly. “I don’t care if his wife gets mad at me. I loved him first.”
Nicolette chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?” Tera demanded.
Young pride. How could she explain how cute Tera’s declaration of love was without denting it? “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
“You’re tired,” Tera said in a tone her mother probably used. “Aunt Paisley told me you would be. She told me to not bother you. Am I bothering you?”
“Not at all,” Nicolette said, because Tera’s hadn’t been a question that allowed for a negative response.
“Aunt Paisley said your sister is a princess. Does that make you a princess?”
“No.” The last conversation she’d had with Rache
lle came back to Nicolette with painful clarity. Things were getting worse between them. I’m happy that she found love—happy that she found it with someone who fit perfectly into our family. Rachelle was a worrier, always had been. When she worried, she hovered and came across as a little judgy.
I know she’s only trying to help.
Neither of us handles conflict well.
I owe her an apology, too.
Tera studied her face. “Don’t be sad. You might be old, but you could still find a prince.”
In a knee-jerk reaction, Nicolette snapped, “I don’t want a prince. It’s not always about the prince.”
Eyes wide, Tera put a hand on one hip and said, “You’re cranky. You need to go to bed early.”
Nicolette slapped herself in the forehead. It’s pretty bad when a five-year-old has her shit more together than I do. She nodded. “I’ll do that, thanks.”
A short time later, Nicolette sat on the edge of the bed in the modest room. By Westerly standards, it wouldn’t have been a suite, but Nicolette had stayed in much worse. It was clean. The bed seemed comfortable—and, hey, it wasn’t a couch.
I’m already turning things around.
There was a knock on the door.
Nicolette rose to her feet and walked over to answer it.
Paisley had a tray of food. “You’re welcome to eat downstairs, but I thought you might want a little downtime tonight.”
After accepting the tray and placing it on the edge of her bed, Nicolette said, “Thank you so much. I’m more tired than I thought I was. I might just eat and pass out.”
“You can put the tray outside your door, or leave it in your room and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Paisley lingered at the door. “There is something I thought we should discuss.”
“Yes?”
“Your arrival came so quickly that we . . .” Paisley made a pained face. “We didn’t cover compensation. I don’t actually have any money to pay you. You’re the only guest I’ve had in months. I should have said this up front. I know you don’t need the money, but you probably expect something. If there is any way that we could consider your room and board your payment, that would be a huge relief to me.”
Runaway Heir Page 6
