“Uncle Nash! Honey shooted a gun once! At a robber!” Tink’s eyes were huge round balls of blue that filled up his face. The little guy shoved a curl off his brow and shook Nash’s shoulders. “A robber was trying to steal her bear.”
Nash shot a look toward Honey. This was going to be good.
“A bear.”
Tink was nodding furiously. “Uh-huh. Her special pink bear.”
“Special pink bear.” Nash raised an eyebrow, his gaze still on Honey. “Did this bear have a name?”
She flipped her ponytail and angled her head. It exposed the soft skin at her neck and the top of one of her tattoos. One of six. In that moment, he would have given anything to know where the others were.
“Daisy.” She cleared her throat and held his gaze.
“You had a pink bear named Daisy.”
“I did.”
“And someone tried to steal this pink bear.” He was trying to keep a straight face, but it was hard. Damn hard.
“Yes.”
“And you shot at this person for trying to steal your pink bear.”
“I did.”
“And how old were you when this happened?”
She cleared her throat and said something under her breath.
“I didn’t hear that.”
“Five.”
Nash blinked. That was unexpected. “You were five years old.” Who the hell gave a five-year-old access to a gun?
“Almost six.” Her chin jutted forward. “It was a BB gun.”
“What’s a BB gun, Uncle Nash?” Tink squirmed until he managed to wiggle his way from Nash’s arms. He ran to his mother, who was watching the entire conversation from the sofa under the window.
“Well, Tink. A BB gun can be as dangerous as a real gun. It’s why they should always be locked up somewhere safe and not left lying around for a five-year-old to grab.”
“Almost six.” Honey got to her feet.
“And what happened to the robber?” Nash had to ask.
Honey shrugged. “I missed and broke two bottles of my mother’s finest gin, and he got away.”
“And the bear?”
She shrugged. “He managed to grab my mother’s stash but left the bear behind.”
Nash got the feeling there was more to the story, but it was getting late, and he had places to go and people to see. He kissed his nephew and promised he’d have him to the cottage one night for popcorn and the game. He hugged his sister and, when she pulled away, decided to poke the elephant in the room.
“Where’s Jason at?”
She glanced at her son, but Tink was busy looking through the bin of old toys that used to belong to Nash and Cam.
“Probably with his girlfriend.” She exhaled and shook her head. “Don’t tell Mom. No one knows.”
His heart fell. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
She was silent for a few moments and then nodded. “So am I.” She gave him a quick kiss, put a big smile on her face, and called Tink for bed.
“Everything all right?” Honey asked after his sister left the room with his nephew.
“Not really.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked away and clamped down on the anger inside him. Wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to dwell on his brother-in-law’s actions. At least not right now. If he ran across the sonofabitch, well, that was an entirely different story.
“I’m headed out.”
“Okay.” She slid past him. “Let me thank your mother for dinner.”
“Hey,” he found himself saying as his gaze rested on her. Honey paused and looked at him over her shoulder.
Take her home.
It was a good plan and one Nash should have listened to, but for some reason, he was distracted by her eyes. The curve of her cheek. The shape of her mouth. Suddenly, he didn’t want the night to be over. At least, not the part where she was involved. He found himself doing something he didn’t normally do, which was to mix his work life with his down time.
“I’m going to Hudsy’s place to watch the game.” Shit. Was he really going to do this? Nash hesitated. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.
“And you’re telling me this because…”
Nash waited a heartbeat longer. He was going to do this. “It’s early, and I thought maybe you’d like to join us.”
“I don’t think…” She turned around and faced him. “Hudson Blackwell?”
He nodded. “You’ve met Rebecca. She used to work for me. Not sure if you’ve met Hudsy, but he’s a good guy. It’s casual. They won’t mind.”
“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to crash two family gatherings in one day.”
Take her home.
“It’s just Hudson and his wife. The old man would have left hours ago, and I don’t think his brothers are in town.”
Honey held his gaze for the longest time, and Nash had the weirdest sensation. He found himself thinking about the tattoo down her spine and wondering what the hell it meant. What was it with Honey Harrison and tattoos? And all that skin?
“Okay,” she said softly.
“What?” He brought himself back to earth and focused.
“I’ll come with you.”
5
Snow was beginning to fall as they drove along a twisting, narrow road that led into the mountains surrounding Crystal Lake. In the distance, Honey spied water through the tops of the trees, and beyond that, twinkling lights from the expensive properties that bordered the lake. Among them was the Blackwell estate. Or at least that was what she’d been told.
Was she really going to do this? She tugged at the scarf around her throat and looked out the window, thoughts dark.
“I didn’t realize Hudson Blackwell lived so far out of town,” she murmured.
“He bought and refurbished a resort.” Nash pointed in the general direction they were headed—which was up. “We’re about ten minutes away.”
She hid a snort.
“What kind of resort?” She’d been in Crystal Lake for several months now, and this was the first she’d heard of this. Like all good bartenders, she listened to the folks who sat at her bar, and picked up a few tidbits. She knew Hudson ran the family businesses, that he was active in the community, and before he returned to Crystal Lake after a long absence, he’d been an FBI agent. His past was almost as colorful as Honey’s.
Though a hell of a lot more privileged.
“Remember that movie Dirty Dancing?”
She looked at Nash as if he were crazy. “I don’t know a female who doesn’t.” Honey knew most of the dialogue by heart. And Patrick Swayze? The guy had all the moves. He’d been one of her first crushes.
“Well, picture the resort from the movie but on a smaller scale. It’s not open yet, not until the summer.”
Must be why she hadn’t heard anything about it. Honey let that image settle in her mind. Sounded expensive. She glanced out the window again as they climbed the mountain, and felt her chest tighten. There was so much space up here. So much quiet and beauty. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. Figured a Blackwell owned a good chunk of it.
“Hudson and Becca officially moved in a few weeks ago. Their house is a sweet spot that overlooks the lake.”
“Crystal Lake?” She was confused and peered ahead.
“No. They’re on the other side. The resort is located on a smaller lake. It’s more suitable for fishing, kayaking, and relaxing than motorboats and waterskiing. We used to go there as kids. I was surprised as hell when he bought it.”
“Guess when you’re as rich as a Blackwell, you can buy whatever the heck you want.” She tried to keep her voice light, but obviously failed.
Nash gave her a strange look. “You got something against them?”
“No,” she answered quickly and felt her cheeks burn. When would her mouth learn to ignore the words in her head? The ones that should be kept there? The ones not meant for public consumption? “I just meant, you know, they have a lot of money and…”
Her voice trailed away, and she decided to shut up, because she’d just dig a bigger hole.
“Money isn’t everything.”
She jerked her head back. “The only people who say money isn’t everything are people with money. Have you ever thought about that?” Nash Booker might not belong in the same money club as the Blackwells, but she’d seen enough to know he’d never gone to bed hungry and woken up with a bellyache that didn’t go away. He’d never had to make it through a school day with a juice box, a fruit roll up, and, if she was real lucky, two slices of stale bread with some peanut butter slapped on. Her lips formed a bitter line. Bet he’d never had the joy of wearing jeans three sizes too big, or underwear riddled with holes.
He looked her way. “Look, I don’t want to get into a big debate or anything. All I meant is that life is more complicated than the bottom line of someone’s bank account. Being rich doesn’t give you a free pass. The Blackwells have had their share of pain.”
Honey needed to cool her engines because she didn’t want to get into a discussion about the Blackwells. She’d held her cards close to her chest this long. No sense in screwing things up now. She exhaled and counted to five. “You’re right.” She tugged at the edge of her jacket cuff. “So, not to change the subject or anything, but what was everyone trying so hard not to talk about at your parents?”
The dark didn’t hide Nash’s scowl. “You mean what the hell did Cam do?”
She watched him closely. “Unless you want to chat about your sister.”
He swung her a look. “You don’t miss anything.”
“I pay attention to people. Part of my job description.” She was going for light, but the scowl never left Nash’s face. The Booker household was weathering their own kind of storm. A person would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to pick up on that.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard, considering this town lives on gossip.” He settled back in the seat but kept his eyes on the road. “Cam crossed a line. An irresponsible, unforgivable, not to mention one hundred percent illegal line. I hope they throw his ass in jail. Hell, if my mother hadn’t stepped in, he’d be locked up right now.”
“Jail?” Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s pretty harsh.”
“When you get caught with drugs and charged with intent to sell, jail is pretty much the only thing in your future. That’s not the worst of it. They’re looking at more charges. A kid ended up in the hospital because of him.”
Honey was more than surprised. She’d lived most of her life smack dab in the middle of a community of addicts. Drugs. Alcohol. Gambling. All of it. She’d gotten really good at reading the signs, and Cam didn’t fit.
“He uses?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Nash’s nostrils flared, and he shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Liar.
Nash cared. It was obvious he cared a lot. Honey looked out her window. The reflection that stared back at her made her heart twist. It was like looking at a ghost. The ghost of a mother before time, disappointment, a broken heart, and drugs took her life. She squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead against the cool glass. It was better not to care. You couldn’t feel pain that way.
What am I doing? Why am I here?
The overwhelming urge to disappear into that darkness—to retreat and hide—slammed her so hard, she felt dizzy. Her breaths fell rapidly, and she had to work to push away the nausea that suddenly rumbled in her stomach. This was a bad idea. She had no business going to Hudson Blackwell’s. At least not when she was feeling so damn fragile.
Honey turned to Nash, her every intention to ask him to turn around, when he signaled left.
“Here we are.”
She followed his gaze and spied a large sign hanging from a post set among a stand of evergreens. Lit from above, it glowed eerily in the dark and snow. Lake of the Woods Resort and Northern Spa.
The entrance was plowed, and they had no trouble navigating their way through the forest on either side. This too was lit with small lanterns hung on iron hooks stuck into the ground. It was beautiful, everything you’d want a place up here to be, and eventually, the road gave way to a clearing and a large house that sat upon a crest.
It looked like… “Is it a log cabin?” she asked, peering through the windshield as Nash parked his truck beside a black SUV.
“It’s the original lodge, but Hudson and Bec did extensive renovations. I guess you could call it a log cabin on steroids.”
Nash was sure right about that. Honey slowly got out of his truck and cranked her neck for a better look. Light spilled from the windows, casting a swath of warmth in the snow. An extra-large covered porch, complete with a set of rocking chairs, ran the entire length of the home, while the upper level featured dormers that brought to mind a Cape Cod style. The house was rustic and contemporary, and she was pretty sure no expense had been spared.
Honey was pensive as they made their way up the path that led to the deep porch. This house was everything she’d ever fantasized about as a child. And it was as far away from Sunset Park as she was from the moon.
Nash didn’t bother to knock, and she hesitated as he stepped into the house. Warmth hit her face, and she shivered in the cold, eyes on the scene before her. A massive stone fireplace took up a good portion of the wall across from where she stood, and flames licked logs that smelled like hickory and brought family to mind. Thanksgiving. The space looked open from what she could tell, and she closed the door behind her, eyes wide as she took in the true extent of this fabulous cabin on steroids.
It was an architectural triumph of woodsy Americana and sharp, modern edges tempered by color—deep burgundy, cream, and crisp navy. The main living area was open and inviting. To her left, a gleaming kitchen featured slick stainless-steel appliances and dark granite. The massive dining table sat at least twelve and looked as if it were made from restored barn planks. The leather furniture grouped around the stone fireplace looked comfortable, the grain and texture distressed.
And gathered around a large coffee table were the Blackwells. A man glanced up, a wide smile on his handsome face when he spied Nash. His dark gaze swung to Honey, and her heart literally stopped. She saw the question in his eyes as he got up and headed their way, a small baby in the crook of his arm.
“Hudson, this is Honey.” Nash glanced at her, a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t think you guys have met.”
Hudson’s eyes settled on her, and it took everything in Honey not to bolt like a jackrabbit and run for the hills.
“We haven’t.” A smile touched his face. “But I’ve heard of you. I seem to remember one of Travis’s buddies going a little gonzo over you last summer.”
Nash scowled. “Zach is a jackass.”
Honey ignored Nash, her focus on the man in front of her. He was handsome. All the Blackwell men were. But this one’s eyes, they freaked her out. They were way too familiar. Her heart sped up, and she licked her lips
Hudson nodded toward Nash. “You couldn’t pay me to work for this guy.”
“Your wife had no complaints,” Nash retorted.
“My wife is too polite,” Hudson said with a chuckle, his eyes back on Honey. “Nice to see you’ve finally landed a lady friend.”
“Oh, we’re not…” Honey cleared her throat and tried to make her mouth work. “Nash is just my boss.”
Hudson’s eyebrows rose.
“It’s true.” Nash doffed his coat and tossed it on a hook along with Honey’s jacket. “This was just a goodwill gesture on my part. Honey and I aren’t even friends. Isn’t that what you said earlier?”
Honey didn’t hear Nash or see the way Hudson watched her. She didn’t notice the baby reaching for her, or Hudson’s wife getting to her feet. Her gaze was drawn across the room, to the old man she’d not noticed before. He’d been sitting on an overstuffed navy chair and slowly stood up. Beside him was a woman, older, attractive, with silvery hair and a smart burgundy dress. They were chatting to each other, th
e woman’s hand on his arm in an intimate fashion. The old man spoke to Rebecca, and all three headed toward Honey.
Her heart sped up, and adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her ears were full of white noise, and her vison blurred. She gave her head a little shake to make it stop, but it was no use. This train was real, and there was no way to stop it.
She watched as Rebecca, Hudson’s wife, grabbed up the old man’s jacket. He used a cane, but his expression as he rested it against a chair was filled with disgust. The older woman helped him into his jacket and pulled a wool poncho across her shoulders. They continued forward, a smile on the woman’s face as she gazed up at Nash. The man? He was busy kissing his grandson goodbye.
“Nash, so nice to see you. How are your parents?” the woman asked, her voice genuine and warm.
“They’re good.” Nash paused. “This is Honey.” A pause. “Honey, this is Darlene.”
Honey forced herself to look at the woman and pasted a smile to her face. “Nice to meet you,” she murmured, the hairs at the back of her neck on edge as the Blackwell patriarch turned her way.
All the white noise in her head died as she gazed at him. Her heart rate slowed, her breathing stalled until there was nothing but John Blackwell and Honey.
His skin had a sallow tinge to it, his full head of hair gray and white. He was slightly stooped but still of considerable height. She saw the man he was, saw it in his son Hudson. And those eyes. They were faded, their blue not quite as crystal clear or startling in their clarity. But they were as familiar as the back of her hand.
They locked on to her for all of three seconds before Nash introduced her.
He gave a small nod, the lines around his mouth and eyes filled with fatigue, before moving to Nash. The shock of those three seconds left Honey breathless. Disoriented. She heard the people around her making pleasantries. Saying their goodbyes. And then she moved aside as he and his lady friend headed for the door.
The entire exchanged lasted less than a minute or so, but the rest of the evening was nothing but a blur for Honey. She was good at presenting a façade. It seemed she’d been acting her entire life. Always being the person her mother needed her to be. Always hiding her emotions, her very self, it seemed, because it was what she had to do to survive.
You Own My Heart Page 4
