by Lucy Hawkins
Had Charlie even had a sister? Alex had always thought he’d had a brother, but maybe she was older. “I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him very long. He seemed really weird.”
“To be fair, you weren’t exactly friends. He probably didn’t know what to say to you.”
“Yeah, but that’s the thing. I didn’t go up to him. He came up to me—in the street of all places—to ask how I was doing. Like, I haven’t talked to him in over ten years. He made my life hell.”
“You thought that about Hank, too,” his mom pointed out.
Alex shook his head. “This is different. Hank might have always been watching me, but Charlie made sure I knew how much he hated me. He was the one who got everyone to throw rocks at me that day. It’s why he and Hank aren’t friends anymore.”
“Then maybe he’s changed. People do that in ten years, you know. You’re not in high school anymore.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? You’re still so angry over things that happened to you such a long time ago. And what good has it done you? You almost missed out on finding a great guy because you were so caught up on the fact that he was mean to you.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping back a retort, resisting every urge inside of him that screamed to walk away. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have ever, much less right now with his sister present. To her credit, Taylor didn’t say a word. Instead she looked in between the two of them and took another bite of her pizza.
“You let what happened in the past define who you are,” his mom continued. “If you ever want to be happy, you have to let it go. High school was bad for everyone. Did you have a harder time than most people? Probably. But look at everything you’ve done since then. You have so much to be proud of. It’s time you focused on that instead.”
Thoroughly chastised, Alex ate the rest of his pizza in silence, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. She was right, of course. She always had been. No one knew him better than his mom—not even Hazel. She’d been the one to hold him at night when dark thoughts threatened to consume him, and she’d been his advocate, marching into the principal’s office to demand something be done about ‘those boys’ who were hurting her son. Silently, he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it.
Hours later, after countless episodes of Charmed and slices of pizza, he pulled himself up off the couch. Walking over to the chair, he bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She smiled and patted him on the cheek. “I love you, too.”
Out of habit, Alex checked his email before putting his phone on his night stand. Amid the dozens of unopened wedding-related letters was a familiar email address: Hazel’s.
Subject: I MISS YOU!!!!!!
Oh my God I feel like we haven’t talked in forever! Italy was amazing. I’ve shared all my pictures with you, so you can look at them whenever.
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY I saw your website today and holy shit, babe! It looks amazing! I’m seriously so happy for you. You’re an amazing wedding planner and I’m so glad you’re getting back into it. I knew Grant didn’t take all that fire out of you. You don’t burn out that easily.
I’m planning on coming back to Redwood in a few weeks to try out some cake samples. Hank said he’d make one for the baby shower. Fill me in on how that’s going! Did you guys ever talk???
Lots of love,
Hazel
Grinning, he set the email to the side and turned off his lamp. He’d reply in the morning. For now, it was good to know he had people in his corner cheering him on, even if those people gave tough love at times.
Twenty-One
Hank
“I don’t know if I like that shade of blue after all.” Alex stepped back from the drawing room wall and crossed his arms. He had paint smeared across one cheek and even a few flecks in his hair.
Hank took a deep breath. “What do you mean you don’t think you like the blue?” he asked calmly. “Half the room’s painted, and you picked it out.”
It was far from the first conversation they’d had on the paint color. Over the past month, they’d worked on sprucing up The Lakeside where they could. Hank had done what he could before Hazel’s wedding, but there were smaller things that needed seeing to as well. The bedrooms had been fitted with new mattresses and linens, and he’d even splurged and had a tiler come in to redo the bathrooms. The inn would never look like a sleek, modern hotel, but it wasn’t supposed to. Hank had made sure all the new finishes blended well with the original features of the house.
“I mean, I don’t know If this is the right blue. It just feels too dark to me,” Alex said. “If we do the entire room this color of blue, it’s going to make the room look smaller, and I really don’t think you want that.”
“No, I don’t. Which is why I asked you like three dozen times if you were sure this was the blue that would look best. And you assured me that it was.”
“Yeah, well, I was wrong.”
Hank raised his eyebrows. “You were what now?”
“You heard me,” Alex muttered. “Now can we please go back to the hardware store and pick out a different blue?”
“Only if I get to make the final call, since you clearly can’t be trusted to pick out paint.”
Alex swatted at his ass and Hank caught his wrist. Plucking the roller from Alex’s hand, he set it aside and pulled him close, kissing him soundly. No matter how many times they touched or kissed or fucked, Hank didn’t think it would fully sink in that he and Alex were together now. Humming softly, Alex pressed against him, one hand threading through Hank’s hair.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” Hank said against his lips.
“You started it.”
So he had. But he was fairly sure the guests wouldn’t appreciate it if they saw the owner and his boyfriend making out in the drawing room in the middle of the afternoon. Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he kept a hold on Alex’s hand.
“How about I go pick out another batch of samples while you get started on dinner,” Alex said. “Kill two birds with one stone. I’ll even let you make the final decision.”
Unable to help himself, Hank pressed another soft kiss to his lips, then rested his forehead against Alex’s. “I think that sounds like a great idea. If you hurry, we might even get a nap in before dinner.”
“But I’m not tired.”
Hank grinned. “Exactly.”
“Well then. I better get to it.” Alex pulled away and grabbed the truck keys off the nearby table.
“What, you can’t take your own car?”
“I’ve got paint in my hair. I’m not getting in my car like that.”
Fair point. The truck wasn’t exactly in the best shape, but it did the job around the inn. At some point, he really would have to think about getting another vehicle, though.
After Alex left, Hank wandered into the kitchen and looked at his to-do list. He still had a few hours before he needed to start on dinner. Most of the prep work had already been done, so all he needed to do was stick the lasagna in the oven. Some of the projects were too large to tackle by himself. Replacing the bathroom vanities wasn’t something he could do without Alex, and even then, they needed to wait until the guests were gone. The paint was already being taken care of, and Rhiannon was going to let them borrow her brother-in-law’s floor sealer soon, so he couldn’t work on that either.
Changing out the light fixture in the foyer—he could certainly do that. He and Alex had picked out the ornate stained-glass chandelier a few days ago, but larger projects had taken precedence. There was nothing particularly wrong with the brass light they currently had, but Alex thought the updated lighting would give the place a cozier feel, and Hank wasn’t going to argue with him. Besides, the light had been there since he’d come to live with Aunt Norma. It was time for a new one.
He pulled the box out of the hall closet along with the ladder and climbed up to
see how long to cut the chain. The doorbell rang.
“It’s open!” he called. “Just be careful coming in.”
The last thing he needed was for someone to come barreling in and knock over the ladder. The door creaked as it opened—yet another project, albeit a small one.
“Give me just a minute. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.
“Not exactly.”
Hank froze at the voice. He would know it anywhere. “Daniel?” His heart pounded against his ribs, but he couldn’t bring himself to look down.
It had been several weeks since he’d sent off a letter to the address Ray had given him. He’d been tempted to deliver it in person, along with a few choice words, but the schedule at the inn made it impossible for him to take the time off. So, he’d sent the letter and hoped, that hope diminishing with every passing day. Maybe Daniel didn’t want to be found after all.
Only here he was now, standing in the foyer of The Lakeside. He’d come home.
“Here, let me help you with that.”
Striding forward, Daniel took the chandelier and set it down on the floor while Hank climbed down the ladder. For the first time in over a year, Hank looked up into the face of his big brother. He was thinner than Hank remembered, his cheeks gaunt, and his hair starting to go grey. But there was something else, something harder in his expression. He looked like the brother who’d shown up at Hank’s doorstep in Jacksonville all those years ago instead of the one who’d turned his life around and found a career he was passionate about.
There were a million things Hank wanted to say to him. About half of them were questions, but a fairly significant portion of them were insults and demands. How could you take my entire life savings and just bail? Instead, he forced a smile.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked.
Daniel nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
Too much trouble. As though Hank hadn’t spent every spare penny he had and every day of the last year trying to find where Daniel had been.
“Not at all.”
He turned and led Daniel into the kitchen and went through the motions of grinding fresh beans for the pot. The familiarity of the process soothed him somewhat. It was almost surreal, Daniel standing in the middle of the inn like this. His two worlds had always seemed so separate. The life he had in Florida was completely cut off from the life he had with Norma.
“Still two sugars and a splash of milk?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks.”
The seconds ticked by as Hank waited for the coffee to brew. He busied himself by grabbing the sugar, milk, and two cups, his mind still reeling. What was he supposed to say? In his letter, he’d written that he had missed Daniel, that he had a place for him at the inn and work if Daniel was interested. He’d told Daniel he could come back, no questions asked. Except there were so many questions.
A whole year had gone by with radio silence. No texts, no calls, not even a letter. And now Daniel was sitting in his kitchen waiting for coffee as though no time had passed at all. Hank wanted to punch him. Or hug him. Shout at him, but also tell him how much he’d missed him. But more than anything else, he wanted to know why. Why hadn’t Daniel even tried to contact him?
“So, um… how’ve you been?” he asked, grabbing the coffee pot as it finished filling.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Not so bad. Been working as a line cook at a diner in South Carolina. The pay’s pretty shit, but the cost of living ain’t that bad.”
Hank snorted.
“What?”
“’Ain’t,’” he said. “You sound like a redneck.”
“Hey, don’t knock ‘em. You know as well as I do just how good Southern food is.”
He did. During their years living together in Florida, Daniel had introduced him to a wide array of Southern comfort food, from fried green tomatoes to shrimp and grits to biscuits and gravy. It had all been delicious and completely unpretentious. Maybe he should consider adding some Southern dishes to the menu. He didn’t want to try and pass the inn off as a piece of the South in New York, but at least he could introduce some of their food to people who wouldn’t otherwise try it.
“How’ve you been then?” Daniel asked.
“Hmm? Oh. I’ve been um… I’ve been good. I’ve been getting a lot of business at the inn lately,” Hank said. “We had a wedding a few months back, the son of a senator, and that did a lot to increase visibility. Most of the time, the place is booked solid. Even got a couple more weddings in the pipeline.”
“Really? That’s great. Looks like you’re in the process of redecorating?”
Hank nodded. “Yeah, my uh—a fri—Alex is helping me spruce up the place to draw in more guests.”
Why was he so hesitant to tell Daniel about Alex? It wasn’t like he was embarrassed or anything. By now, most of the town knew they were dating, and no one had given them any grief.
“Sorry, who is Alex again?” Daniel flashed him a shit-eating grin.
“My um… He’s…” Hank took a deep breath. “Alex is my boyfriend.”
Something in his expression must have conveyed Hank’s hesitation, because the grin disappeared almost immediately. “Really? Holy shit, Hank, that’s great. I’m happy for you.”
A bit of tension eased from Hank’s shoulders. “Thanks. He’s a good guy. I went to school with him, and we reconnected when he moved back to town. He works with me at the inn on the wedding planning side of things.”
“Sounds like you have everything you could want.”
Hank took a deep breath. “Well, now I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Just say it. “I missed you. All those months I didn’t hear from you. Didn’t know if you were dead or alive. I missed seeing you and hearing from you.”
“Hank—”
“No, just… let me say this. There’s a lot I want to know about where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing, but I promised you in my letter I wouldn’t ask any questions, and I won’t.” No matter how much he wanted to. “Business at the inn is more than I can handle right now, even with two others on staff. I don’t have time to see to everything, so I want to bring you on board as head chef. You’ll be in charge of running the kitchen and serving three meals a day. In return, you can stay in one of the lake houses, and we’ll come up with a salary for you. That’s my offer. Just… just stay. Please.”
Daniel stared down at his coffee cup, and Hank braced himself for rejection. After all, if he’d been interested, he would have written back and said as much. He’d offered Daniel the job in his letter. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Daniel looked up at him.
“I don’t deserve it,” he said quietly. “Not after everything I did to you. I know… I know what you must think of me. I stole your money, and I betrayed your trust. But I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”
Somehow Hank doubted that. “I told you, I’m not going to ask—”
“I know you aren’t.” He stared intently at Hank, as though seeing through him. “I can’t begin to make up for what I did to you. But I can at least be back in your life so you don’t have to worry about where I am. If you really mean it, I’ll take the job.”
“Really?” A slow smile spread across Hank’s face.
“Yeah. I’ve got some stuff I need to tie up in South Carolina, but yes. I’ll come live with you.”
Daniel had been sarcastic when he said Hank had everything he needed, but it was true now. The Lakeside was almost out of debt, he had Alex, and now his brother was back. For the first time in a year and a half, it seemed like everything was finally, finally going right.
Twenty-Two
Alex
Shifting the stack of plates in his arms, Alex bumped into the swinging door to the kitchen, stepping through. The lunch rush had been busier than normal, although it seemed that was the case more and more these days.
“You know,” he said, dropping the plates on the counter, “I think you should seriously think about a
catering component to the business.”
Hank looked up from the sink where he was scrubbing a pan. “Catering?”
“Yeah. I mean, think about it.” He slid onto a barstool where he had a perfect view of Hank’s ass. “Guests already want an in-house wedding planner. If we threw in catering, that’s one less thing they’d have to worry about. And if businesses wanted to host events or something, you could come up with a menu for them and everything.”
“What about the inn? The rooms are booked solid for the next four months, and we’re barely making it with the four of us running things.”
“Hear me out.” Hank turned, and Alex forgot what he was going to say. He’d pushed his sleeves up to do the dishes and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons to combat the heat. Most of the guests were out of the inn, and there was at least one free lake cabin—
“You were saying?”
Heat flooded Alex’s cheeks. “Right. Now, I haven’t seen figures or anything, but with the money the inn is bringing in, I’m sure we can afford to hire some permanent staff to help with housekeeping and maintenance. We can even hire a full-time receptionist. That would leave you free to explore the whole catering thing.”
“And what about the staff we would need for the catering? It isn’t like Daniel and I could do it by ourselves. We would need servers and more kitchen staff. I can’t front that out of my own pocket, not when—not right now.”
Alex tapped his finger against his lips. Hazel had warned him about Hank’s secrets, and it seemed ever since Daniel showed up, Hank had been a closed book. He was distant, more so than usual. And while Alex didn’t want to point fingers unless absolutely necessary, the timing certainly lined up.
At one time, he would have let it go. People were entitled to their privacy, after all. But he refused to let Hank become another Grant. He wouldn’t play the fool for anyone. Not even Hank.
“You played pro football in Jacksonville, right?” It wasn’t much of a question. Everyone knew he had.
