Love in the Dark

by 12 Book Boxed Set (epub)

  Rory made a sound that managed to project irritation and superiority all at once. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to lie to Daddy, ’specially on account of them.”

  “I’m not askin’ you to lie, Rory.” Willow rolled her eyes. Their daddy wasn’t even there to see Rory suck up, and still she did it. “I’m just askin’ you not to say anything right this second.” Willow would rather pull out each of her eyelashes, one by one, than admit defeat to her perfect older sister. Because of that, she couldn’t tell Rory how challenging her job had been lately, how letting their daddy in on this was going to do nothing but make her life even more of a hell than it had been the past few weeks. So she fibbed. “Daddy needs to focus on this conference. It’s important. He can’t afford any distractions. And the Thomas boys are a big one.”

  Rory hummed. “I suppose they are. Especially Finn Thomas. At least where you’re concerned.”

  Willow didn’t say anything in response—didn’t need to. Of course Rory knew about Willow’s history with Finn—at least the basics. Daddy had made sure everyone in the family knew of her misguided path…and how far she’d fallen when the boy she’d thought was the love of her life had bailed without so much as a Post-it note stuck to her window.

  “You’re not gonna do anything stupid again, right?” Rory asked.

  Again. Because of course Rory wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to remind her sisters of all their multiple failings, and Finn would forever and always top Willow’s very long list.

  And do something stupid? Like falling head over heels for a boy who had trouble written all over him? Yeah, she’d been there, done that. And she had absolutely no desire to do it again. Not as long as she lived.

  She took a sip of her coffee in an attempt to hold back the heated reply sitting on the tip of her tongue. When she was sure she wasn’t going to bite her sister’s head off, she said, “No, I plan to stay away until they do their disappearing act again.”

  Rory hummed. “You don’t think they’ll stay?”

  The words Finn had said to her so long ago—words she’d worked damn hard to forget—came rushing back. Be very sure of what you’re saying right now, Willowtree, because if I take these last steps between us, it’ll take Jesus himself to tear us apart.

  Apparently, their Lord and Savior had made a trip to Havenbrook that day all those years ago because from her vantage point, it’d seemed like Finn had left with little thought to what—or whom—he was leaving behind. So, did she think he’d stick around now? Not a chance in hell. He’d do whatever he’d come here for—to make sure Nola was set up with the building and the construction plans were on track, then go back to being a distant partner, just like Willow had caught Drew mumbling about as they’d been signing papers.

  She shrugged to no one, as if talking about the only boy ever to break her heart didn’t cause the old scars to rip open at the seams. “They don’t have a reason to. Their life isn’t here anymore and hasn’t been for a long time. We’ll see the dust of their rental car as they drive off in a day or two. Mark my words.”

  4

  For as long as Finn could remember, Nola had been in his and Drew’s small circle of friends. In Havenbrook, there were the haves and the have-nots, with very few in between. Growing up in the trailer park on the outskirts of town, Finn and Drew fit neatly into one particular category. And Nola had been right along with them, her trailer just a couple doors down for their entire childhood.

  So it hadn’t been a surprise when she’d called a few months ago, going on about a great opportunity to buy the old Main Street Soda Fountain and renovate it. At the time, Finn had been contemplating making an offer on the bar he managed in California for the ready-to-retire owner—not because he loved that space or because it was a particularly good investment, but because it’d been time. After managing the business for the better part of five years, it’d seemed like the next logical step to take over ownership, especially when he had the means to do so.

  Thanks to his goddamn genius of a brother, the two of them and their momma had been lucky, sitting on a nest egg Drew had been able to cultivate. So Finn had the financial means to do it—something he, his brother, and their mother had been without for the first twenty years of his life. But it had been more than just that. He’d wanted to do something with his life. Wanted to be something more than a bar manager. He wanted something of his own.

  And now he was getting it…two thousand miles away from home.

  It’d been so long since he and Drew had been in Havenbrook, Finn hadn’t remembered exactly what the old soda fountain had looked like, but they’d trusted Nola to make a sound decision for the three of them. Now that he stood in front of it, it was like he’d blinked and been transported back in time, to when he was nineteen. Most of the other buildings in the town square had had facelifts in the time he’d been gone, their storefronts and signage new and updated, matching with the rest of the renovated square. Not their place—or maybe their hole-in-the-wall would have been a more apt description.

  It was the only unoccupied building of the newly revived downtown, a two-story brick storefront on the corner, complete with a crumbling front walk and peeling paint on the window casings. The dark red bricks made it appear classic, but the rotted front door and sign hanging above it screamed of neglect.

  Finn cringed, thinking about what they’d find on the inside. It hadn’t been in his and Drew’s plans to stay more than a few days in Havenbrook, so he hoped the interior was up to snuff. The space had been empty for going on two years—was why the three of them had been able to get it at such a steal. Because of that, they had a bit of extra money to put into the renovation. And, from the looks of things, they’d need every penny.

  The three of them stood out front, Drew and Finn flanking Nola as they all stared toward their future.

  “What do y’all think?” Nola asked, dividing a look between them.

  “I think we’re gonna use every bit of our budget.” Drew shook his head. “Maybe more.”

  It was no surprise Finn’s knee-jerk reaction matched his brother’s. Finn stared up at the building, toward the grimy windows of the second story, remembering Nola had said it had an apartment they could possibly rent out for some additional income. One positive in what he feared was a money pit.

  “What time’s Nash meeting us?” Finn asked about the contractor they’d hired.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, a faded red truck, beat to hell and somehow still running, came to a stop along the curb in front of them, king construction in bold letters on the side. A man Finn didn’t recognize stepped out. But of course, it could only be one person. It’d been a long time since he’d seen Nash King, and he’d changed by leaps and bounds. He’d been a couple years younger than them in school, so they hadn’t hung out much—or at all, really. But in a town as small as Havenbrook, everyone knew everyone. No longer was Nash the scrawny teen Finn remembered. Now he stood as tall as Finn, his skin-and-bones stature filling out no doubt thanks to his chosen line of work. The younger kid wasn’t a kid anymore.

  “Well, if it ain’t the Thomas boys, as I live and breathe,” Nash said as he stepped toward them, a smile stretching his lips.

  “Hey,” Finn said, extending his hand for a shake. “Barely recognized you. Good to see you, man.”

  “You too.” Nash shook Drew’s hand as well, grinning at them both. “Y’all gettin’ along okay?”

  “I guess we’ll see once we get inside.” Finn nodded toward Nola who pulled out a set of keys.

  “It’s actually not as bad as you’d think,” Nash said. “I walked it with Nola before y’all bought it to make sure we weren’t lookin’ at anything structural or any big-ticket items.” Nash grabbed the door at the top once Nola unlocked it and held it open for everyone. “With the exception of needing new electrical and a whole new HVAC system, it’s a solid building. A good investment, in my opinion.”

  Original hardwood floors covered the space, seve
ral planks damaged or missing. A few fixtures had been left behind, as well as the bar and stools where the soda fountain had been. The walls, coated in months of grime, were a faded blue. Cobwebs and dust covered every square inch. Even if it was in good working order, it was going to take a shit-ton of elbow grease to get this place gleaming again.

  “After talkin’ with Nola about what y’all wanted in here, I drew up a couple different floor plan options.” Nash walked to the counter, unrolling the plans and laying them across the dusty surface. “Anything can be changed, of course. This is just to give y’all an idea of space constraints and such for everything y’all want included. If possible, I’d like to get these finalized today, so I can get my guys in here tomorrow and get started. I know y’all won’t be here for long, so I want to fit in as much as possible. Save Nola some of the headache of dealin’ with any issues that come up after y’all leave.”

  “What kind of issues?” Nola asked.

  “Various things that come up here and there as we uncover possible issues with the space. You’ll also need to get started on picking out specific pieces—furnishings, fixtures, flooring, those kinds of things.”

  “But that won’t take much time, right?”

  “Did y’all hire a designer?” Nash asked.

  Finn, Drew, and Nola shared a glance, he and his brother shrugging. Coming from a bare-bones bar that had nothing more than a bar top, stools, and a few high-top tables, Finn hadn’t even thought about hiring a designer for the space. Had no idea they’d need one.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Nash laughed. “In that case, it’s gonna take up a good bit of time. At least in the beginning. Once y’all get everything decided, your involvement will be less frequent, though there are always small details to contend with and building issues I’ll need approval for.”

  “Any chance this can all get done within the next few days before Finn and Drew leave?” Nola asked with a hopeful smile.

  Nash’s bark of laughter caused that smile to drop from her face.

  “Shit.” Nola blew out a breath, running a hand through her hair. She turned to Drew and Finn. “I love y’all, and I know this whole thing was my idea, but I’ve still gotta work until this place is up and runnin’ and bringing in actual cash. I can’t afford to quit. And I sure as shit can’t afford to get fired because I’m runnin’ over here every fuckin’ day to pick out wall sconces.”

  “What the hell’s a wall sconce?” Drew asked, scratching his jaw.

  “And y’all thought you didn’t need to hire a designer?” Nash asked with raised brows.

  Shit. She was right—they both were. This was going to take a lot more time than they’d bargained for, and Nola didn’t have it to give. Wasn’t fair to make her either. Not when she didn’t have the security of a solid savings account to fall back on like he and Drew did.

  “All right, just hang on a second,” Finn said, running a hand through his hair. “Gimme a minute to think.” He glanced around the room, his gaze catching on a dark alcove toward the back, stairs beyond it no doubt leading to the unoccupied space above. A plan started forming in his head, the itch under his skin he’d first experienced in Willow’s presence spreading until it was too much to ignore.

  “Hey, Xena, you said the space upstairs is an apartment?” he asked.

  “Yeah, two-bedroom. Cute little thing. If I wasn’t in the middle of my lease, I’d move there in a heartbeat and save money on rent. Pretty sure they even left some furniture in it.”

  Finn’s question had been innocent enough, but neither of the brothers had ever been able to get anything by the other, and this was no exception. Drew’s brows shot up in an unasked, what the hell are you gettin’ at?

  Finn rubbed a hand over his rough jaw. “I was just thinkin’…”

  Drew blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Bad idea, man.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m gonna say.”

  “Twins,” was all he said with a tap to his temple.

  Nola divided a look between them. “What am I missin’?”

  “You were in there, right?” Drew asked him, ignoring Nola’s curious looks as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward town hall on the other side of the square. “Did she seem real open to havin’ you around for a while?”

  “This isn’t about her.” Lies. “You heard Nash—someone’s gotta be here dealing with this shit, at least for a little while. Nola can’t do it.”

  “And we can?”

  “We have the means to take extended leave if we need to.”

  “Wait.” Nola placed a hand on each of their forearms. “Y’all’re stayin’?”

  “No,” Drew said, his eyes never leaving Finn’s.

  “Maybe.” Finn crossed his arms, widening his stance.

  Drew could deny it all he wanted, but the truth was they needed to hang around—at least for a little while—to get things squared away, and they both knew it. They had enough money so they could go a bit above their budget, but there was still no way they’d be able to hire an interior designer to deal with everything—especially not considering there wasn’t anyone in Havenbrook who’d fit the bill, which meant they’d have to shuttle in someone from Memphis or Jackson. Dollar sign after dollar sign kept adding up, and while they did have a savings account to pull from, they’d already taken a huge chunk of it out thanks to the building and renovations. And, truth be told, Finn didn’t have a whole lot of interest in going back to his childhood days where they scraped for every penny and had survived mostly on boxed mac and cheese with cut-up hotdogs. He wasn’t going to use up all the money just because they had it available to them.

  Which meant sticking around, living in the apartment they’d already paid for, and taking care of this stuff on their own was the most logical and economical thing to do. And if it gave him the opportunity to hang around and make sure Willow was all right, well, that was just the icing on the cake, now wasn’t it?

  He couldn’t get that buttoned-up version of her out of his head. She didn’t belong there—not behind that desk and not in Havenbrook—and he needed to know why she’d given up all of her dreams to move back.

  Nola narrowed her eyes at Finn. “Is this about Willow?”

  “Of course,” Drew said with a snort. “When is it about anything else?”

  “Just because we shared a womb doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass.”

  Drew’s relaxed stance remained, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “If I had a buck for every time you said that to me, I’d be a mighty rich man. And yet my ass has remained unbeaten.”

  “Maybe this time I should follow through.”

  “Are y’all about done?” Nola asked with an eye roll. “Can someone please let me in on whatever the hell y’all are goin’ on about? Not everyone here has shared a womb.”

  Before Finn could open his mouth to say anything, Drew beat him to it. “Romeo here thinks there’s some chance with the girl he ran away from. Wants to stick around and find out. And, if I’m not mistaken, wants us to hunker down in that apartment above the bar while he does it.” Drew turned to Finn, eyebrows raised. “Did I get that about right?”

  “No, you didn’t, smartass,” Finn said. “This isn’t about Willow. Nola can’t be around every day while we get these details figured out. Who else are you proposing do it? Our fairy godmother?”

  “So, what, you’re just gonna leave Sammy in the lurch? You know he can’t run the bar without you.”

  “The bar’ll run fine. I’ll let him know we’ll be back in two weeks—three, tops.” Finn didn’t need his brother telling him this was a bad idea—he already knew that. He didn’t know what the hell he hoped to accomplish by staying. Didn’t know what he could accomplish. But he wanted to try. Even for just a little while.

  “What about you?” Finn asked Drew. “What’ve you got goin’ for the next bit?”

  “Nothin’ I can’t do from here, and you know it.”

  “So then
hanging ’round for a couple weeks shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Jesus.” Drew took off his cap and scrubbed a hand through his hair before replacing the hat, no doubt reading every ounce of hope and apprehension that dripped from Finn. Drew stared at him for long moments then sighed and shook his head. “All right, I’m in. Let’s see how this shitshow plays out.”

  5

  It had been a couple days since Willow’s world had capsized. Since the ex-boyfriend from hell had popped back into her life. And she’d done a damn good job of pretending it hadn’t happened. She’d replicated the life of a hermit, diligently avoiding most public spaces—and thus avoiding the gossip mill. She had at least seven voice mails from Rory to tend to, but she just didn’t have it in her yet, wanting instead to keep her head buried in the sand a bit longer.

  The prediction she’d made to Rory a few days before rang through her head, how the Thomas boys would peel away from town before the people of Havenbrook could blink. She didn’t know one way or another if they had—she’d asked Mac and Avery not to mention anything about the twins, and she’d studiously kept her head down and her nose to her work.

  The thought of Finn still being in Havenbrook sent her stomach into a tailspin. More concerning, though, was the fact that the thought of him leaving without a word, going back on his promise of seeing her again, sent a whole flurry of other emotions swirling in her belly. And since there wasn’t enough wine in the world to explore that particular issue, Willow avoided examining it further. Pulled the proverbial blanket over her head and ignored. She went to work and then straight home, usually forcing Mackenna to run and grab supper and bring it back to the house so Willow could stay hidden away.

  She just had to ride out the few days until Finn and his brother bailed again—and she was already two days into it. She could hold out through the weekend. By Monday, the Thomas boys would once again be just a distant memory.

  She squinted at the painting she’d been working on for the better part of the day. Definitely needed more red. She’d just dipped her paintbrush in a deep, blood shade when the phone rang. Without setting the brush down, she reached for the phone with her other hand. “Hello?”