Carpentry and Cocktails: A Heartfelt Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 5)

by Smartypants Romance

  “The banana cake queen? Good for her! I freakin’ love her cake!” Clara yelled, then swiped Sadie’s last shot and threw it back.

  “Hey, you’re supposed to be driving us home, dummy!” Sadie cried. “Willa! She’s stealin’ my shots.” Her pout was comical. She’d skipped over tipsy and was well on her way to plastered.

  “We got plenty of alcohol, don’t worry.” I poured two more shots and wondered if they had anything to say about me being back in Green Valley.

  “I’m done drinking. Get me a Dr. Pepper, Willa, please.” Clara requested. “What about Hank Weller? Is he taken too?” I shrugged. I wasn’t up on all the Green Valley gossip. I was only familiar with the bakery gossip since I spent so much time there. Those banana cakes were like crack; I had torn through at least five of them with my friend Sabrina since I’d been home. I’d attended the private all-girls school in Merryville, so I’d missed out on some of the wealth of memories and connections one made when growing up in the same town with people. I’d earned a scholarship on account of having a genius IQ and learning to read when I was three. The school district had to bus me over there because they didn’t offer a class advanced enough to contain my brain. Fat lot of good my supposedly gifted intelligence did me though. Being book smart didn’t mean I made good life choices.

  “I don’t know about Hank,” Sadie answered with a sigh. “I haven’t seen him in years. He sure used to be fun though. I should have tried harder with him…”

  “Sadie Lynn! I liked Hank back then, not you,” Clara stated. I braced because every southern girl knows when a middle name gets dropped, shit’s about to become serious.

  “Uh-uh, no, it was me. Sometimes we would go to Cooper’s field after Friday night football games. He was sweet to me. So good with his hands…” Sadie sighed, safe in her happy drunk bubble and oblivious to Clara’s rising ire and the fact that apparently, they’d both slept with Hank Weller in high school. I held back a snicker, but it was hard. This would not end well. I did not want to be stuck in the middle of one of their bickering catfights again.

  Clara flounced off her stool. “I used to hang out with Hank at his daddy’s house up at Bandit Lake whenever his parents were out of town. And yes, he was very good with his damn hands.” She had her hand on her hitched hip, leg out, foot a-tapping on the floor. The signs were all present—she was about to go on a tear. “Little Red Wagon” by Miranda Lambert blasted through the speakers, and I hoped it would not set the tone for what was about to come.

  I shot a nervous smile to Aunt Genie, who was back on my end of the bar again. She grinned and shrugged. “Take your dinner break, Willa. Talk your sisters down from this decade-old business before the hair pullin’ starts.” She winked at me then headed down the bar again.

  Shit. I needed to step in and get them off the potentially destructive path they were walking. Their fights were never malicious or hateful. But they used to get physical from time to time, with hair pulling and girl slapping. They were ridiculous. Occasionally they would knock over some furniture, break some dishes, then wind up collapsed together in a giggling heap with whatever made them angry having been forgotten. I was in no mood for their kind of antics tonight. Sweeping up broken glass after a bar fight sucked, thank you very much, no matter how funny the fight was. “So, how’s Momma?” I asked to distract them.

  “Huh? Oh, Momma wants to see you,” Clara said, her hand now off her hip. With her foot no longer tapping out her anger, she turned to me. “You’re hurting her feelings, Willa. And when Momma’s feelings get hurt, ain’t nobody happy. She’s been blowing up my cell phone non-stop since she heard you came back to town.” She took my hand and held it, forgetting about Hank Weller for the time being. “I’m so glad you came home, Willa. I missed you.”

  “I’m glad you’re home too.” Sadie took my other hand then picked up her last shot of tequila. “Let’s have a toast to Willa! And fuck you, Hank Weller!” She tipped it back, then slammed her glass on the bar.

  “To fucking Hank Weller!” Clara shouted with a huge smile. “And to our little sister finally being home. I missed you, Butterbean.”

  “I missed y’all too.” I couldn’t help but tear up. I was so happy they’d missed me that her use of my old, dreaded nickname didn’t even bother me.

  “Well, come around this bar then and give us a hug.” Clara stood up and held her arms out. “Let’s get this reunion done right, before we have to hold that one up for it.” She tilted her head to Sadie. I headed around the bar and walked into Clara’s hug. She squeezed me tight before Sadie joined us, wrapping both of us up. As we stood there hugging, relief filled me, warming my heart.

  “Don’t think we didn’t notice that scar your pretty mermaid tattoo is hiding, little sister,” Sadie whispered in my ear before she pulled back and sat down.

  “Oh. Well…” I looked at my boots and clutched my arm self-consciously. My mermaid tattoo—in shades of blue, violet, and aqua—began with her tail wrapped around my wrist. She wound all the way up my arm to end with her face turned to the side on my shoulder, red hair billowing behind in her wake. Black waves tried to hold her back, but she swam through everything to break the surface. My scars were not quite hidden within her form.

  “Is Tommy the cause of it? I could swear I saw his stupid, gaslighting ass in the parking lot. You’re not with him anymore, right?” Clara asked with a face made of stone.

  “No, we’re divorced, and he’s gone.” In prison… “Why would you think that?” I tried to deflect.

  “He was always a bossy little shit. That gets old after a while, doesn’t it, Willa?” Sadie said knowingly.

  Yeah, Tommy was a bossy shit and it did, in fact, get old. “This isn’t the place to get into any of this—”

  “Hey, Willa.” My eyes shot to the voice, and I froze where I stood. Everett was looking hot as ever in blue jeans and cowboy boots, wearing a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had such nice forearms. They were strong and muscled, and dusted with exactly the right amount of dark hair to set off the delicious looking veins running up and down. His dark, nearly-shoulder length hair was tied back in a short ponytail just waiting for a woman to grab hold of it and—Gah! I wanted to get my hands in that hair so badly I could almost feel those soft waves caressing my palms as I—stop it, Willa. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to calm my pounding heart and quell the dirty, racing thoughts chugging through my mind like a perverted freight train packed full of lust. Choo freaking choo.

  “Well, hey there, Everett Monroe. You’re lookin’ less nerdy since I saw you last. Time has been kind to you and that is a fact,” Clara greeted him before I could. “Wanna dance?” she asked and reached for his hand. I was pleased to see him avoid her touch by sticking his hands in his pockets with a half step back. Even though he didn’t take her bait, a surge of jealousy shot through me. I felt myself arch up inside, like a pissed off cat. Maybe I would be the one to start a brawl tonight.

  “Oh, honey, no. Everett has always been a cutie pie—all the Monroe boys are. Oh! How is Barrett? I haven’t seen him around town since I’ve been back. We had gym together, back in school. I used to watch him in those tight gym shorts, running around the track. I made sure to always be behind him, yes I sure did—” Sadie slurred with a hiccup and spun around on her barstool. Her eyes narrowed on Everett as she wobbled on her stool. “Wyatt’s the cop and you’re the one openin’ up that…that…store for—” She snapped her fingers as she struggled to remember Everett’s gamer shop before getting distracted by—“Boooooooone!” she shouted and threw her hands in the air to wave him closer. “You’re a hero, Boone!” She beamed up at him and almost fell out of her stool. He caught her before she could hit the floor.

  “Long time, no see, Sadie. I see you haven’t changed much.” Boone laughed.

  “You mean, I’m drunk and feisty, just like the old days.” A wistful laugh escaped her as Boone grinned and sat down. “My momma has my boys and I’m getting waste
d. I’m no fun anymore,” she confessed.

  “Wanna dance?” he asked.

  Her head shook, blonde curls bouncing side to side. “I ain’t dancing tonight, Boone. No more dancing for Sadie. Men ain’t worth a shit. ‘Cept you, of course.” She slapped her hand on the bar for emphasis, making Boone laugh.

  “How about I buy you a Coke then?” he offered her with an adorably sympathetic grin.

  “Sure thing, as long as it has a whole lotta rum in it. Aunt Genie, c’mere,” she hollered. “Me and Boone need some drinks.”

  “That girl…” Clara said with an eye roll. “So, I see what’s happening here.” Her grin was wicked as her eyes bounced from me to Everett. “I’m gonna go dance. You two should shake a tail feather together.” She shoved me in the back as she darted behind me on her way to the dance floor. I went flying into Everett, who caught me with a grin. I was in trouble now.

  Chapter Four

  Everett

  “Everett, you’ll know she’s the one when she feels like everything. And everything else becomes just everything else.”

  Papaw Joe

  We had danced together before, the night I’d first met her. Months ago, I’d been at Genie’s with Wyatt to have a few beers and shake off the day. Instead, I’d danced all evening with the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Every time I remembered holding her close, I had to fight against getting hard. Since that night, I had been half in love with her. The physical half was all in—I was attracted to her something fierce. The mental half didn’t know enough to start the fall, even though everything I learned about her drew me in and each day made me fall a little further. She was skittish with a fiercely sharp wit; she had been hurt. I could tell she was protecting a soft spot and it made me want to discover it so I could be the one to keep her safe.

  But she had kept her distance from me—well, as much as she possibly could while living in the apartment in my basement—and we hadn’t touched again, not once. Having her crash into my arms just now was heady stuff. Her scent, the feel of her body, the warm press of her against me—she made me feel intoxicated, and I had yet to order a single drink. My heart was in danger, but I couldn’t make myself stay away.

  “My sister…I’m sorry—” she stammered as she started to step back.

  I tugged her closer instead of letting her get away. “Don’t apologize. Dance with me?” My hands drifted around her waist as I started moving us backward toward the dance floor.

  “Oh, I don’t know if we should.” Hesitation flashed briefly in her eyes, but she acquiesced and followed me across the floor as I turned to hold her hand, giving it a gentle tug of encouragement.

  Leaning to the side, I whispered in her ear as we walked. “It’s just a dance, Willard.” I pulled back and grinned down at her with a wink. Her gorgeous eyes—big and light blue like the summer sky—widened as she opened her mouth to say something, but I twirled her under my arm instead of letting her speak. Country music blasted through the bar, fast and wild. It left no room for hesitation. I yanked her into my arms. “Okay?” I shouted over the music.

  My mother loved to dance; she taught all us boys how. A gentleman always takes his lady dancing. And maintains a respectful distance. I took a small step back, placing my hand on Willa’s upper back as our fingers linked together. With a step forward, she closed that distance to press against me once more. My lips curled up in a grin as her hand tightened in mine and her arm slid around my neck, hand drifting through the back of my tied-back hair. She wasn’t as immune to me as she pretended to be and I wouldn’t dare test that by stepping away from her again, even if it wasn’t gentlemanly. If she wanted me close, then that’s where I’d be.

  Her gorgeous eyes twinkled in the lights as she smiled up at me and her body relaxed in my arms. “Okay, Everett. I’ll dance with you,” she breathed. Her voice was much too quiet to hear over the blaring music, but my focus on her gorgeous mouth allowed me to understand her words.

  Quick, quick, slow—our easy Texas two-step was the same as everyone else’s on the floor but with her in my arms, this felt like so much more than a simple dance. I led her across the floor, spinning her out and pulling her back. I wanted to make her laugh again, like I did during our last dance so many months ago. I wanted her to want me as much as I wanted her. We had almost shared a kiss that night but were interrupted before anything could happen. She had the prettiest lips; full and soft and always pink. If I never kissed Willa before I died, it would be one of my greatest regrets. I had faith the right moment would present itself. As the song came to an end, I took both of her hands to spin her under my arms before dipping her low over my knee. Her ponytail brushed the floor as her neck arched back. She laughed, lifted her head and my heart skipped a beat as her eyes shone into mine with unbridled delight. Her sexy laugh tickled over my skin like I wished her hands would do and I felt the fall I was so afraid of coming even closer.

  “God, you’re such a good dancer. Where’d you learn to dance like this, Everett?” she asked, slightly breathless and totally adorable as she beamed up at me. It seemed that dancing with Willa was one of the keys to get her to respond to me. I filed that fact away for future contemplation as I pulled her up and into my hold once again.

  My smile turned sideways as I was about to admit my nerdy momma’s-boy truth to her. “From my mother,” I shouted over the music. “She loves to dance. My father tries, but he isn’t very good at it, so she taught all us boys how. We used to take turns two-stepping with her all over the living room.”

  “That’s the sweetest thing ever,” she said. Score one for the nerds!

  “One more?” I didn’t want to let her go yet.

  “Sure, I have time for one more before I have to get back to work.”

  With its slower beat and romantic lyrics, Lady Antebellum’s “I Run to You” changed the energy between us. The rise and fall of her chest as she sighed against me filled me with need as her forehead briefly rested on my shoulder and our fingers linked. I loved it that she was so tall. At six-foot-six I towered over most women, but Willa fit me just right. My need grew urgent as I wrapped my arm around her waist and my hand met the soft swipe of her skin, bared by the tied hem of her Genie’s tank top. Smooth and warm, it tempted me into thoughts inappropriate for our location. I inhaled a sharp breath to regain control. Dipping my head low, I took in her sweet scent as my cheek rested against hers—so soft. Her curly hair tickled my chin as my senses filled with nothing but her. Having her next to me felt right and I didn’t understand why. My heart raced out of control and I wondered just what it was about her that made me react so intensely.

  She reminded me of a Palomino horse; all long legs, flowing light blond hair, and pale skin kissed with adorable freckles. Willa was some kind of wild, and totally free. I shut my eyes and pictured her running across her momma’s land up in the hills above town with her gorgeous hair flying behind her like a gold cloud, her laughter trailing through the air. God, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I grit my teeth as my control started slipping away again. I was in danger of making a fool of myself. I was in danger of a lot of things, and a broken heart was at the top of that list.

  “I love this song…” she whispered in my ear as she pulled away. Her head lifted from my shoulder as her hand trailed down my arm. She linked our fingers and I resumed leading her around the floor, rather than the slow sway we’d fallen into when the song started.

  “Mm hmm,” I muttered as I gazed into her eyes and smiled faintly, at a loss for words.

  She studied my face. “Everett, why do I always feel like when you’re looking at me, you really see me?” she murmured.

  “I do see you. Sometimes you’re all I see,” I confessed, hoping it wasn’t too much, too soon.

  Lowering her head, she tucked her blushing cheek into the side of my neck and sighed against my skin, leaving goosebumps in the wake of her breath. I continued leading her across the dance floor with my heart beating like crash
ing thunder bolts in my chest. I should be careful; I didn’t want her to end up being just another girl I fell for who didn’t want me back. Story of my life.

  The song came to an end and I let her go. The disappointment on her face as she reluctantly stepped out of my arms buoyed my spirits. “I have to get back to work. Thank you for the dance,” she said.

  I followed behind as she headed back to the bar. My eyes shot to Genie as she called for Willa. “Honey, you didn’t eat dinner?” she asked as Willa darted around the bar and snagged her apron, tying it back around her narrow waist.

  “Oh, no. I have food at home. I’ll eat later,” Willa said with a grin. My eyebrows shot up—I knew she didn’t have food at home. I’d just finished repairing her empty refrigerator before meeting Boone and Garrett here. And from what I could tell, there wasn’t much food in her kitchen at all. Was the doughnut from earlier the only thing she’d eaten today? I took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer from Genie. Boone had managed to convince Sadie to dance. I saw them out of the corner of my eye laughing and chatting at the edge of the crowded dance floor. Garrett was nowhere to be seen.

  “Okay, Willa. Patty’s divvying up y’all’s tips before she leaves for the night,” Genie informed Willa before sliding me a beer with a smile.

  “Thanks, Miss Genie,” I said.

  “You’re welcome, honey.” She smiled at me. I sipped my beer and slid my eyes to the side to catch a view of what was going on with Willa.

  Patty walked out from the swinging doors behind the bar, apron off, purse across her shoulder and ready to go. “Willa, here’s your tips. I’m out of here.” She hurried around the bar to leave.

  Willa took the money. She frowned at the she flipped through the stack of bills. “Something’s not right. You gave me too much. Patty, what are you up to?” I glanced at Genie, frozen near the cash register with a guilty look on her face.