by Zoe York
“You…you can’t do that.”
“Can and will. Drew and I are making one last trip to California to get packed up and bring Momma back with us.”
“No one here wants your kind in Havenbrook.” He spat the words like they were weapons.
Finn stared at the older man, waiting for the shame to come. But it never did. He knew his worth now, knew it didn’t rest solely on where he lived or what part of town he was from, or whether or not his daddy was in the picture. Knew it stemmed only from the kind of man he was. “Once upon a time, that might’ve hurt me, but I’m not a kid anymore, and preying on what you perceive as weaknesses isn’t going to do jack shit. I’m not quite as easy to get rid of as I was back then.”
“You think giving you fifty-thousand dollars to get the hell out was easy? How much’ll it take this time? Seventy-five? A hundred?”
Anger mixed with regret swirled in his gut. Dick knew damn well the money hadn’t been why Finn had left—it’d been the threat of what would’ve happened if he’d stayed. If he’d gotten hauled off to jail, there would’ve been no way Drew could’ve taken care of things with their momma. And Dick had known it, had used it to his advantage, like the prick he was.
Finn had no idea why he’d tried to protect Willow from this man, tried to salvage their relationship. The man was an asshole, and it was about damn time his daughter realized that.
Finn stepped up until he was toe-to-toe with him, getting some pleasure in the fact that Dick had to tilt his head back to look Finn in the eyes. “You could promise me a million—hell, a billion—and it still wouldn’t do jack. Try to come up with some more bullshit charges for me. See what blackmailing me does. It would make my fucking year to go down that path with you. I’m stayin’, Dick. And there’s nothin’ you can do to stop me.”
With that, he turned and walked away, his head held higher than it had been so many years ago. But just like all those years ago, his stomach churned. Dick wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten his way, or he had something else to focus his efforts on. Seeing as how Havenbrook was about as hopping as Mayberry, there wasn’t much else for him to focus on. And seeing as Finn wasn’t going anywhere… Well, it was going to be a long rest of his life.
But one that was worth it a thousand times over if it meant he got to spend that life with Willow.
By the time Finn got home, his anger had dissipated some. Not much, but some. Instead of focusing on what a piece of shit human being Dick was, Finn’d thought about what his next steps needed to be.
The money, for one thing. The money Dick had paid him off with to “ensure he didn’t have any reason to float back to Havenbrook” needed to be given back. Despite the circumstances surrounding it, Finn couldn’t deny what a lifeline the money had been, a tiny bit of light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel.
It’d been just the three of them for as long as he could remember, their daddy having never been in the picture at all. And Momma had been sick. Fucking cancer. Working four part-time jobs—the only things that’d been available in a small town like Havenbrook—meant no health insurance. No relief from the mounds of bills sure to pile up—the prescriptions and the treatments and the office visits. At nineteen, he and Drew had had to discuss things with their momma a child never should, debating between bankruptcy or her death.
The shadows on his momma’s face, the resignation in her voice when she’d told them she hadn’t wanted her sickness to follow them even after she was gone still haunted him to this day. He’d hated that that’d been the hand they’d been dealt, that they’d never been able to get a leg up, no matter what they’d done. Even knowing how desperately they needed they money, he’d turned Dick down flat when he’d approached Finn in the first place. Back then, he’d thought that would be that.
But, of course, Dick always got what he wanted. And he’d wanted Finn gone.
Finn walked through the empty bar, the workers long since gone for the day. Pride swelled in his chest over what he, Drew, and Nola had accomplished—three troublemakers from the wrong side of the tracks. The opening was close now. Real close.
The bar top shone, the stone they’d picked out for the front a perfect contrast to the corrugated steel and barn wood throughout the space. Accent walls in that same stone were interspersed throughout the bar—a strategy Rory had come up with and he’d just nodded along to. Industrial lighting hung from the open rafters of the ceiling, a few lantern sconces—and yeah, he now knew what those were—on the walls. It was everything he’d imagined when he hadn’t even known what to dream up. There was no denying Rory knew what the hell she was doing, and she was damn good at it.
He climbed the stairs to the apartment before unlocking the door. Drew sat on the couch, TV on and beer in his hand. He lifted the bottle in a wave without turning around.
“We need to talk.” Finn tossed his keys on the beat-up card table posing as a dining table and strode into the living area.
Drew furrowed his brow as he looked at his brother. “What the hell happened tonight? It didn’t go well?”
“With Willow? Nah, it went great. Perfect.”
“Then what’s all this?” He gestured in Finn’s general vicinity.
Finn didn’t take time to wonder how Drew already knew something was up. Par for the course with the two of them. “History repeated itself tonight.”
Drew’s brows shot up. “No shit? Dick?”
“The one and only.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his spread knees. “What’d he say?”
“The usual. How much money’ll it take to make you leave, get out before I make you, that sort of thing.”
“I see his originality is still horseshit.”
Finn hummed as he collapsed onto the couch next to his brother. Originality Dick didn’t have, but he did have something he could hold over Finn’s head, and Finn wanted it gone. It’d always be there, of course. He could never take back what he’d accepted, but he wanted to wash his hands of it as best he could. “We still have that fifty-thousand set aside?”
Drew took a slow sip of his beer, then nodded. “Yeah.”
“I need it.”
“All right.”
No hesitation. No questioning. No inquisition.
“That’s it?”
Drew glanced at him. “Should there be somethin’ else?”
“You’re not gonna ask what I need it for?”
He tapped his temple. “Twins. Besides, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you’re lookin’ to pay back that slimy asshole so it’s not hangin’ over your head anymore. Been wonderin’ what was takin’ you so damn long, to be honest.”
Finn blew out a harsh breath, head resting on the back of the couch. “You remember after we left, how I’d fantasize about comin’ back here and all the ways I’d throw that money in his face?” He didn’t wait for a response because, of course, his brother remembered. “But when I finally got the chance, it just…wasn’t as important. I had other things on my mind.”
“Willow.”
“Yeah, Willow. And the bar. And talkin’ you into movin’ back here.”
“Didn’t have to do much coercin’ on that.”
“Don’t usually with you.”
Drew shrugged. “Nothin’ holdin’ me back in California. And where you go, I go. You know that.”
“I do.” Same as Drew knew it. Their bond was unbreakable.
Finn pushed to stand and strolled toward his bedroom. “When can you get the money?”
“It’ll take a couple days. Our bank doesn’t have a location ’round here, so I’ll have to make some calls. By the end of the week, I’d say.”
“All right. And we’ll still be doing okay once that’s gone?” Finn leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “We still have enough assets to pay all of Nash’s people for the bar and get Momma moved out here? I know we’ve run into some added expenses with this venture.”
Drew barke
d out a laugh then downed the rest of his beer before standing. On his way to the kitchen, he stopped and clapped a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I know you don’t pay much attention to the statements I send you, but trust me when I say we’re doin’ just fine. That 50K was nice to get us started, but we haven’t needed it in a long damn time.”
Because Drew had made sure of it. Fifty-thousand was a lot of money, especially to two kids like them, but it wouldn’t have even put a dent in cancer treatment bills. They’d had to make more money and make it fast. Fortunately, his brother was a goddamn genius with the stock market. All they’d needed had been the starting capital, and pretty soon, they’d had a nice little nest egg, even after paying for their momma’s ungodly high treatment bills.
If it hadn’t been for Drew, they’d have ended up no better than they’d left Havenbrook. And Finn couldn’t lie that it was a damn nice feeling to know how much they’d changed since leaving, how much they’d flourished, despite what half the people in their hometown thought of them.
That was the one and only thing he’d thank Dick for. And he would too. At the same time he threw all that money back in his face.
It’d been a busy week, and despite what Willow and Finn had said the evening at the tree house, they hadn’t had much time to spend together. They were back to stolen kisses here and there, but it seemed to work for them, especially because she wasn’t trying to hide anything from anyone. Not anymore. While she wasn’t screaming it from the rooftops, she also wasn’t going to lie if asked.
Of course, that hadn’t been put to the test as of yet, because all anyone wanted to talk to her about was information on the Fourth of July parade. And now that the parade was in full swing, Willow’s love life was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
She stood under an awning against the brick exterior of a building in the square, a brief reprieve from the battering sun, just taking a moment to absorb it all. Havenbrook had events to mark every major holiday—and even some non-major ones—but this was the largest and most grueling. And while she hated the prep for it, swore at how much time it took and all the hoops she had to jump through to make sure everything was in order, she couldn’t deny the swell of happiness at seeing her work come to fruition. Willow Haven put on a damn good parade, if she did say so herself.
The small details probably went unnoticed by most of the attendees, but Willow was aware of every single one. The red, blue, and white flowers she’d spent hours planting that dotted the parade route. The colored lights she’d strung between the lampposts along the square. The flag bunting on all the balconies and porches of the homes and businesses in the historic district. Uncle Sam doing balloon animals for the kids. The sight of it all coming together made her happy…content. The same feeling she got when she finished a painting. The proof of a job well done—a job well done with her own two hands.
“Nice parade, Will!” someone called out to her, owner of the voice unknown. Willow just smiled and waved at the praise, thankful she was getting it at all.
It’d probably been too much to hope she’d get it from her daddy.
“Hey.” Mac sidled up next to her, Rory on Willow’s other side.
“What’s up?” she asked, dividing a look between her sisters.
“You ready for the game?” Rory asked.
Willow groaned internally—and, okay, a little externally as well. The annual softball game wasn’t something she could skip out on, though she desperately wanted to. She’d been up since five a.m., and she was dead on her feet. But her job wasn’t anywhere near done. The parade might have been winding down, the fire truck with firemen atop it tossing out candy to the passersby signaling the end of that particular event, but she still had so much to do.
First the game, then the soft opening of the bar—which was what Finn, Drew, and Nola were still calling it, not having settled on a name yet—then cleanup. She’d be lucky if she saw her bed before two in the morning.
“Do I have to?” Willow whined, though she didn’t actually mean it. Of course she had to. If she didn’t, who else would?
Mac and Rory exchanged a look, then Rory said, “I take it you haven’t heard yet.”
“Heard what? Oh Lord, did those kids mess up the baseball diamond? Dammit, I told them last week to stop four-wheelin’ all over it.”
“The diamond’s fine, and the kids are the last thing you need to worry about.”
“Well, someone better tell me what I should be worrying about, because I’m findin’ I don’t have a lot of patience for y’all right this second.”
“We’ve got a new opposing team this year.”
Willow’s brow furrowed. Every year it’d been the firefighters against the Havens, which consisted of their family and a handful of town hall workers. Not even close to an fair match, considering most of the firefighters were a bunch of athletes in peak physical condition and the Havens’ team consisted of a slightly overweight man nearing sixty, a handful of people who’d played some kind of sport way back in high school but not much since, and the rest of them who were mostly artistic types without an athletic bone in their bodies. Their saving grace every year was Mac, who’d played softball all through high school and even some college. Despite the uneven playing field, somehow they won. Every year. Imagine that.
“Somethin’ come up with the firefighters?” she asked.
“Rumor has it someone sweet-talked them into sittin’ out,” Rory said.
“Really? Who? We got a shot?”
Mac snorted. “A shot at trouble.”
Willow did not have the patience for her sisters today. “Would someone just spit it out already?”
“We’re up against Drew, Finn, and their old crew.” Mac smiled. “And by the looks of it, they’re out to win. Maybe I’ll finally get some competition out there.”
Willow’s mouth dropped open. “But—” Lord, she didn’t even want to think of the tantrum her daddy would throw if he lost the game for the first time in…well, she wasn’t sure she wanted to make such a broad sweeping statement as to say ever, but…ever.
As if reading Willow’s mind, Mac said, “Yep. Daddy’s gonna get his ass handed to him.” She hooked her arm through Willow’s and tugged her toward the baseball field, pure glee written over every inch of her body. “I feel like we’re gonna need popcorn for this show.”
Finn stood in the dugout, Drew, Nola, Nash, and Ty BSing with each other. They were still waiting for a handful of people to arrive, and then they could get this show on the road. He wasn’t sure he’d ever anticipated something more, with the exception of seeing Willow again.
All week they’d been putting the finishing touches on the bar, and he and Drew had been closing out details of their life in California while looking for a place for their momma to live in Havenbrook. But during that time, he’d also sat and stewed, really contemplated how he was going to give that money back to Dick.
He hadn’t waited ten years just to mail a check back to him.
Finally, as he’d been walking home one night, a town flyer about the parade had caught his eye, and he’d remembered the annual softball game—how the Havens’ opposing team had always, without exception, thrown the game. What he wouldn’t give to see the look on Dick’s face if someone actually challenged him.
And in that moment, he’d known that was it.
He’d made a few calls, sweet-talked some people, and then they were in. He and his misfit crew of friends were taking on the mayor. And they certainly wouldn’t be throwing the game. Then, after, the cash. Shoving the money down the mayor’s throat, along with a bit of humility, would make Finn’s whole year.
“You really sure you wanna go through with this?” Ty asked.
There wasn’t a doubt in Finn’s mind everyone else was thinking the same thing—with the exception of Drew. But of course, Drew wouldn’t question it at all because he’d been there. Through every up and down, every decision made between a rock and a hard place, every day of the past ten
years. No, Drew wasn’t thinking it because he knew how badly Finn wanted this. How it wasn’t about beating the mayor, though that was definitely the icing on the cake. This wasn’t even about a stupid game, but about so much more.
As if he’d conjured her up in his mind, Willow came strolling onto the field, slipping into the dugout on the opposite side of the baseball diamond. She stood in a tank top and shorts that left very little to the imagination, her smiling face hitting him straight in the gut.
Goddamn, did he love her.
To Ty, he said, “Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m playing for more than the game.”
He never took his eyes off Willow, and eventually, she glanced his way. She froze for just a moment, and he held his breath, waiting to see what she’d do. This was the first time they’d be seen in public together since the night at the tree house, and he couldn’t deny he was anxious as hell to see how she’d respond to him.
After what felt like a lifetime, she bit her bottom lip then lifted her hand, fluttering her fingers as her sisters looked on. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face at her acknowledgment of him.
“Shit, man,” Drew said, clapping a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I sure hope you’re ready for what you’re starting here.”
Ready for it? He had no idea if he was or not. All he knew was he was tired of waiting.
Christ, it was hotter than Satan’s ballsac out here. Finn’s shirt was soaked to his chest, and from the looks of things, none of the others on his team were faring much better. They’d been playing for an hour already, the imbalance of aptitude between theirs and Dick’s teams glaringly obvious in the disparaging lengths of time each group was up to bat.
Despite the ravaging heat, it’d been an absolute pleasure watching the mayor’s reaction as the game had progressed. When Finn’s team had scored the first run, Dick’s eyes had narrowed as if warning them with a glance to fall in line. Finn had merely saluted him—not the one-fingered salute he’d wanted to give, which, he thought, was damn kind of himself. At the fourth run, Dick’s jaw had been tight, his fists clenching his handkerchief as he’d mopped sweat from his brow. By the eighth, he’d looked ready for murder. Finn would bet the check in his pocket the thought had crossed good ol’ Dick’s mind a time or twenty.
