I toss him a nod and head into my house. I pull a few beers from my fridge and bring them out to the porch. For the moment, crickets are my only company. My eyes dart to my outdoor kitchen which reminds me I need to fix the beer cooler that I installed out here.
Sawyer comes racing across the lawn still dressed in his running clothes a few minutes later. He’s fast. Probably faster than me.
“Hey, man,” he says stepping up and on the porch.
“Hey,” I say and hand him a beer.
He settles into the chair opposite me. “Nice night. Thanks for the cold one.”
“Yeah, no sweat. You earned it chasing after Waylon.”
He chuckles and tosses back a swig of beer. “At least he didn’t get too far. I thought he’d keep running right on over to Smyrna Hills.”
I puff on my cigar. “You want a cigar? I’ve got another one.”
“Nah, thanks though. I’m good with a beer.” He leans back and props his foot up on the firepit. “So, rumor has it that you’re dating Haven Cardwell.”
My brow crinkles. “Who told ya that?”
He tips his beer back and swallows. “Ran into my brother and her at lunch today. She said y’all were an item. Aaron confirmed that she’s your girlfriend.”
Haven had lunch with Aaron today. “Aaron Collins is your brother?” That is the bigger surprise to me.
He nods. “Thought you knew that.”
I shake my head and give a few puffs on the cigar. “Nah, didn’t even make the connection with your last name.”
“Yeah, anyone can be anyone’s relative in these parts.” He swings his gaze toward me. “Can I offer some insight?”
“In regard to?”
“Haven Cardwell, she was kinda bitchy back in the day. She’d come home for the summers, and was always a little . . . well, not friendly.”
Bold statement from this guy. Opinions are like assholes, everyone’s got one. But why would Haven tell Sawyer that we’re dating? Guess, I’ll have a little fun with her while I get to the bottom of this newsflash.
“People change and she’s been nothing but nice to me,” I comment and take a pull from the bottle.
His phone flashes and he glances at the screen. “Oh shit, booty calls. Thanks for the beer.” He stands and nods toward his house. “Gotta chick waiting for me inside.”
“Have a good one,” I say and watch him sprint down the steps and over the lawn toward his place.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Well, good for him.” I snuff out my cigar and place it in the ashtray. I never seem to finish an entire cigar. Probably better that way.
I stand and stretch my arms over my head. Blowing out a deep breath, I scoop up the unopened bottles and take them inside.
“Meow,” comes from the kitchen. I walk in to find Harley waiting by his food dish.
“Harley, we’ve been over this,” I say and place the beers inside the fridge. “You get food twice a day. I see that you’re itching for more, but I can’t let you sit around and get as big as this house.” I bend to scratch his head.
After I refill his water, he stays there and takes a long drink. I walk down the hallway to my bathroom and attempt to think about sleep. Glancing at the clock, it’s shortly after nine. Guess, I’ll watch some television and try not to think about how wired I am.
Try not to think about Haven . . . my girlfriend. A smile breaks out on my face and I flip on the faucet.
Haven
I blink at my reflection in the mirror and take in the flirty, pink and white floral dress that fits me perfectly. And I found the perfect pair of strappy heels to go with it.
After I clasp my earrings on, I apply some pink lipstick. My blond hair is pinned in a low chignon. Smoothing my palms over my hips, I smirk knowing that I’m not wearing any panties, per Tyler’s request.
The strapless dress hits right above my knee, so I’m safe from giving anyone a free show of my goods.
At the sound of gravel crunching under tires, my blood roars through my veins. I glance over and find Oliver licking his paw on the bed.
“Be good, buddy. Don’t wait up for me. You have extra food and water in case I’m not home in time to feed you breakfast. And I may or may not have hidden some treats around the kitchen and dining room for you.” I stride to the front of the bed. “Okay, how do I look?”
He ignores me and keeps bathing himself.
“You can’t give me a little nod of approval? I mean, I’ve been the one cleaning out your litterbox and feeding you.”
Still nothing.
“Fine, what do you know about style anyway. You wear the same thing every day.”
The two loud knocks at the door match my pounding pulse. I turn off the lights and run down my mental check list for leaving the house. Opening the kitchen door, I feel a wave of nerves crash over me.
A loud whistle hits my ears. My eyes roam to Tyler’s. “Holy fu . . . I mean, wow, you look stunning.” His big hand smacks over his heart.
I move forward and the door catches in the latch where I lock it securely. I take another deep breath, because I need a moment to pull myself together. Tyler looks insanely gorgeous wearing a navy suit with a light blue shirt. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the fundraiser without pulling him into a dark corner for some inappropriate fun.
“Well, I guess I’m dressed appropriately.”
Tyler pulls me close and his lips land on mine. “You look so fantastic—smokin’ hot, in fact. And that makes it a real challenge on account of me being a southern gentleman.”
I smile against his lips. “Politeness is sexy too.”
“Being a southern gentleman means I’ll open doors for you in public.” He lowers his mouth to my ear, his fingers digging into my hips. “But in the bedroom, I’m going to make you scream.”
Holy shit.
“Come on, sunshine.” He breaks free and guides me down the steps.
My eyes flick to the sky. “By the way those clouds are darkening, I’d say bye to the sunshine.”
With the door to his truck open, I step up and he gives me his hand for balance. My door closes, and Tyler is around the front and sliding into his seat a moment later.
My nerves dissolve. My heartrate slows.
Tyler pushes the truck into drive and we sail down the driveway.
“You ready?” he asks and grasps my hand.
“Of course. I hope we raise a ton of money tonight.”
“Me too, girlfriend.” He drawls out the word and my stomach flips.
I cut a glance in his direction. “What?” A nervous laugh bubbles in my throat.
He winks at me and his hand slides around the steering wheel as we turn onto the main road. “Rumor has it you’re telling people that I’m your boyfriend.”
The nerves are back in full force, colliding like pinballs. What has Aaron done now?
“Uhm, what did Aaron say to you?”
He shakes his head. “Not Aaron. Turns out his brother, Sawyer, is my neighbor. Anyway, he mentioned it last night while we were talking and drinking a beer.”
My eyes close and I feel all the blood drain from my face. Sawyer is Tyler’s neighbor. And they hang out. My stomach churns thinking back to all the sleazy things he did to me. I swallow thickly and try to wrap my head around this information.
“Hey, you okay over there?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just remembering the conversation from yesterday with Sawyer. It was kind of funny.”
“Tell me how that went down exactly—I need to know how I became your boyfriend without even knowing it.”
He’s joking, which is good. I do like a guy who’s confident enough to find humor in awkward situations without flying off the handle.
“Well, Sawyer asked me out for drinks and Aaron told him that my boyfriend wouldn’t like that much. Anyway, it was a scare tactic, I think. Aaron has a funny sense of humor.”
There, that should lay this topic to rest.
“Yeah, he mentioned that I was lucky to have you.”
A chill settled in my spine. “Oh, he did? That’s funny. I barely know him. So, how was your day?”
He flicks his turn signal and we turn onto the street where The Saffron House is located. “Busy for the most part. I’m finally back on schedule with the law office project. And everything for tonight is on track. I haven’t heard a peep from my event coordinator, Caroline.”
“Caroline Stratton?” I ask.
“Yep, that’s her. She owns Cranberry Ridge. I called her up a few weeks back and asked her to coordinate this event.”
I blew out a long breath. “I haven’t seen her in years. I should tell you that there’s bad blood between the Cardwells and the Strattons. The drama goes all the way back to my great-granddad and hers.”
Tyler puts his truck in park. “What families don’t have drama?”
I tilt my head. “True. But I think ours goes beyond the norm. Rumor has it my great-granddad used to be best friends with hers. Then the bourbon happened and . . . Samuel Cardwell might have swooped in and ‘stole’ Clarence Stratton’s sweetheart.”
Tyler rears back and his eyes pop wide. “Wow, now that’s a rumor I’ve not heard.”
I huff a laugh and open my door. “Hmm, well, I’ve heard it one too many times.”
We glide into the restaurant through the kitchen, fingers twined together. Tyler smells so good, like clean soap and I think I recognize the spice, now—bergamot and hint of leather.
The back of the house is a flurry of activity. Tyler says hello and introduces me to several of his staff members including Jace, his head chef. Everyone is so nice.
“Haven, I need another opinion,” Nora, the pastry chef, calls out. “Tell me, does this mousse need something more?”
She hands me a sample of the dessert and I take a bite. It’s freaking amazing. Just as amazing as the espresso cheesecake. “Nora, I wouldn’t even know what to tell you to add because this, to me, is incredible.”
She smiles. “Thank you. I hear that you’re a fan of my espresso cheesecake.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. I may need to take a few slices back to Los Angeles with me when I leave in a few weeks.”
“I don’t know if it will keep on that long plane ride.”
I laugh. “Well, maybe you should just come out to California and get a job down the street from my office. There’s a fabulous five-star restaurant. They’d be lucky to have you.”
“Maybe I’ll look into that if the boss man here turns into a jerk or tries to keep my paychecks.” She smiles and busies herself with making up more of the mousse.
I feel a set of hands land on my shoulders. “How about you stop stealing my staff away from me.”
“I was only teasing.”
I look back at Nora and shake my head. “I’m totally serious,” I mouth.
He guides me out of the kitchen with his hands on my shoulders and we step into the dining room.
“Wow,” I breathe taking in the space.
All the tables are covered in white linens. Tall cylinder vases filled with pink and white cherry blossoms sit in the middle of each table.
“It’s gorgeous.”
Tyler’s hands land on his hips. “Yeah, they did a great job.”
“Well, thank you very much, Mister Nichols,” a sweet voice calls out from behind us.
I turn and a woman with blond hair wearing a sleeveless, geometric print shift dress approaches us. She’s very pretty. Like movie star gorgeous. Blue eyes that dazzle and her eyebrow game is fierce. And don’t even get me started on her hair, it’s what shampoo commercials’ dreams are made of. Her waves bounce with every stride she takes.
“Miss Stratton.” Tyler greets her with a handshake.
“Is everything to your satisfaction?” she asks glancing at her clipboard.
“As far as I can tell. This is Haven Cardwell,” he says to her.
“Nice to meet you.”
She gives me a once over and a smile plays on her pink lips. “Your dress matches the centerpieces,” Caroline mentions.
I glance down at my dress. “I guess it kind of does.”
Someone hollers Tyler’s name from the kitchen and he excuses himself leaving me and Caroline standing at the bar.
“You don’t live in Mayfield, do you?”
“Not since I was a teenager. I’m in town for my friend’s wedding. I wound up staying a little longer than expected.”
“The Maxwell-Sinclair wedding?” She sighs and notes something on her clipboard. “I hope we can all find a love like those two have.”
“Right, lucky bastards. Your place is beautiful by the way. The bridal room is an absolute dream.”
“Thank you, we worked really hard on the space.” She turns on her heel to face me. “Have you seen Brant lately?”
“My brother, yeah. He came out to Los Angeles over New Year’s.”
Scott had a concert that night—a private party in New York. Ryleigh and I had reservations for dinner then we ended up at The Blue Note where Brant met up with us.
“I didn’t realize that you and Brant are friends.”
She shakes her head and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “Uhm, I only know him in passing. He used to hang out at the movie theater a lot in the summer when I worked there.”
I gotta say that doesn’t surprise me. “Yeah, my brother the movie buff. Did he eat his weight in popcorn and Almond Joys?”
She blushes. “He was a big fan of The Bourne Identity, saw it three times in the summer of 2002.” She leans in and covers our faces with the clipboard. “He also saw Chicago more than a few times too.” Caroline bumps my arm. “So, if you ever need any leverage. There you go.”
God, I love this girl. I could see myself being friends with her.
I can’t contain my laughter. “Next, you’ll tell me he watched Sweet Home Alabama like ten times.”
She laughs. “It was only twice.”
Tyler comes around the bar. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, Caroline was just telling me some hilarious stuff about my brother, Brant.”
Caroline glances at her watch. “Well, I suppose I should talk to Jace. See when he wants my staff to start delivering the first course.”
She walks off and I turn to face Tyler. “Okay, I like her a lot. And she didn’t bring up any family drama stuff. Hmm, maybe none of it is true after all.”
This feels like a new start on the way to erasing all the things about Mayfield that keep me from coming back. Tonight seems like a good night to start getting to know people and be a part of a community.
Tyler
Usually, I can go the distance during these things. Tonight isn’t one of those times. I’m half hard staring at Haven across the restaurant. She’s smiling, chatting and actively engaged in conversation with a few patrons by the door.
Haven is a natural. Probably because this event is right in her professional wheel-house. She reminds me a bit of those pictures of Princess Diana at society events. The pictures in those various magazines Ava had collected back in the day. Ava loved Diana. She’d probably love Kate, Meghan, and all the royals.
Dinner is long over, and a few people are taking their sweet-ass time with the desserts, despite the fact that Caroline and her team have already taken the linens and decorations down. My dining room is almost transformed back to its original state.
“Chelsey, go ahead and set up for the brunch crowd.”
“But there’s still a few people here. Are you sure that won’t be rude of me?”
Rude. Right now, I could give a shit. We’ve done our jobs. The event was over thirty-six minutes ago. Maybe it’s rude that all I can think is . . . “Get the fuck out of my restaurant so I can go home and get Haven into my bed.”
“It’ll be fine,” I reassure her.
“Mister Nichols,” Caroline greets me as Chelsey strides toward the hostess stand. “Thank you for allowing me to coordinate your eve
nt.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “You did a fantastic job with everything.”
“Have a good night,” she says and makes her way toward the front door. She tells the lingering patrons at the door good night and to my surprise they follow her out.
A few of them turn back to say good night. I nod.
Yes. Fuck yes. Hell yes. Hurry.
“Chelsey, please lock up when everyone has left. Have a good night.”
“Thanks, Tyler, see you tomorrow morning.”
Not likely. I have other plans for tomorrow morning. If I can get the hell outta here.
I walk back into the kitchen and head toward my office. The kitchen staff is busy wiping down counters and putting away dishes. Jace is long gone. Maria is overseeing the closing. I pluck the clipboard from the wall and examine the weekend menu. All looks good. I sign off and replace the clipboard.
“Thanks for a great night,” I call out to the staff.
Nods and waves of good night float around the room.
When I reach my office, I stand over my desk hoping for some good results. My fingers fly over the computer screen. Yes. We made our goal and then some. I shrug out of my jacket, placing it on the hook by my filing cabinet. My fingers work the keyboard as I pull up the reports and prepare for the nightly deposit.
Knock. Knock.
I look up and see Haven standing in my doorway, her clutch under one arm and two glasses of Champagne in her hands.
“Hi there,” I say.
“Do we have some celebrating to do?” She steps toward me and hands me a glass.
“We do.” I take the glass and set it on top of my desk.
What she does next takes me by surprise. Haven shuts the door and leans back against it. A devious smile crosses her lips. Reminds me a little bit of that move Molly Ringwald does at the end of The Breakfast Club when she visits Judd Nelson in that tiny room.
I lift my glass and take a slow drink. She keeps staring at me then swallows a drink herself.
“You holding me hostage, beautiful.”
“Maybe.”
I pull her toward me and she settles on my lap. I take the glass from her and set it beside mine. She nestles her clutch between my desk phone and stapler.
Beautiful March Page 15
