by K. K. Allen
She shakes her head. “Nope. Amber’s got tonight.” Then she slips past me, her eyes roaming the space and locking in on the blank canvas. “Care to explain this fascinating piece of art?”
“It was a gift from our friend Jaxon Mills.” I tilt my head as she sits on the stool and turns toward the counter that faces the kitchen. “Did he tell you he taught me how to paint when I was fifteen?”
She draws an invisible doodle on the counter as she opens her mouth to respond. “No, he didn’t. But Danny mentioned some stuff. He just said you and Jax have a history that only you two could understand.” Her eyes shine when she looks up. “But it involved a forbidden romance and a love for painting. I totally swooned.”
Laughing, I walk over to the fridge and stare into it, not quite sure what I’m in the mood for. I could go for a large glass of wine, but I’ve run out and I’m not about to head to the store now. Peering over my shoulder at Claire, I frown at my hosting skills. “Would you like something to drink? Water, tea? Can pregnant women drink tea?”
She shoots me a pointed look. “Yes, but no thanks. You and I are going out.”
I let out a laugh and reel back from my hold on the fridge door. “Um. You mean you are going out. I’m going to bed.”
She bats the air with a tiny wave. “Nope. It’s Danny’s birthday, and we’re going out. To a bar. Well, to the bar. It’s the only one in Balsam Grove. We’re going to dance. You’re going to get drunk. And I’m going to be the best designated driver you’ve ever had.” She points to her tummy. “You can thank the baby for that.” She flashes me a grin, then narrows her eyes just as fast. “Get dressed.”
I scan her outfit top to bottom and decide that she’s not joking. “I have nothing to wear.”
She sighs heavily and stands. “I highly doubt that. Where’s your closet?”
I jump to my feet, stepping quickly between her and the ladder staircase. “It’s upstairs, and there is no way in hell you’re going up there with that baby inside you. I’d die if you fell off that ladder. Give me a minute. I think I have some jeans and a tank top or something.”
“Perfect,” she says, all smiles. “I’ll just…keep myself entertained.”
With a roll of my eyes, I climb the ladder and reach my closet, pulling out a pair of jean shorts first. But staring down at them, I know they’re not right for tonight. Jaxon is Danny’s best friend, which means he will probably be there. I don’t want him to see me in the same old shorts I wear every day. Balsam Grove isn’t the place for designer threads or my mother’s pearls, but I should still be able to throw on something nice for a night out.
Shifting through my closet, I eye an outfit I bought on a whim a few months ago. Something about it caught my eye, though it doesn’t quite match the conservative style I’ve been sporting since living with Scott. It’s playful, fun, and sexy—and when I saw it, it just felt like me. But when I got home, tried it on, and looked at myself in the mirror, something felt…wrong. I was ashamed of myself for wanting to wear something that might draw attention to me. So I buried it in my closet, and then it traveled here with me.
Something sparks in my chest, an acknowledgement that maybe I’m ready to be a little bit daring. I’ve come all this way to break the chains that have been trapping me in darkness. Maybe it’s time to step out of my comfort zone.
I slip into the white and black striped chiffon one-piece. The shorts fall just below my ass, and I can feel the air graze the sensitive skin there. Feeling exposed, I grasp at the thin straps, ready to rip the outfit off and exchange it for something safer—and then I catch my reflection in the mirror. My shame melts away as I realize I like what I see.
Slowly, I release the hold on my strap, reach for the black velvet buttons that run from the dip in the neck to my waist, and begin to button them. When I’m done, I pull in a breath. My eyes drift down the white chiffon, my fingers skimming the skinny, vertical black stripes. I swallow, taking in the matching tie around my waist. The bruise on my arm from my fall in the woods is still visible, but I let it breathe in spite of the dark yellow skin.
I prop the door to my bathroom open so I can chat with Claire while I apply a light coating of makeup. “What are you doing going out anyway? Aren’t you like, fifteen months pregnant or something?”
“Ha, funny! Danny’s been working a lot since the sheriff’s been helping out a rescue crew a few towns over. He hasn’t seen his friends in a while, so I suggested Franco’s. The whole town’s coming out.”
My stomach knots as I visualize an angry mob surrounding me at the stake, fiery torches in their hands. I could fake an illness, but she’d know I was lying. I could tell her I don’t want to go, but that would be rude. Or I could go and face whatever comes my way, because that’s exactly why I came back to Balsam Grove. I won’t let the people in this town dictate my future.
I swipe on some mascara and then climb back down the ladder, my black sandals dangling from my fingertip. “What do you think?”
Claire, who has been staring out the back window, turns to face me.
Her smile grows wide. “Damn.” And then she points to me. “You realize all the men in this town are married, right? Well.” She quirks her lip. “Except for a couple, but I don’t think you’re dressed like that to impress Tanner.”
My face floods with warmth. “Let’s just go before I put my pajama pants back on.”
She laughs and turns toward the door, then glances at me again over her shoulder with a grin. “The moment he sees you, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
He doesn’t even see me.
Jaxon’s leaning against the brick wall on the other side of the room, a beer tipped to his lips and his eyes focused on the glowing Asian beauty who’s chatting him up. It’s impossible to miss him, especially with the red beanie he wears on his head. When we were younger, his hats were reserved for keeping the hair out of his eyes when he painted, but now it seems they’re a staple. Except for that time he was swimming under the falls, I don’t think I’ve seen him with his hair down since I’ve been back.
Franco’s is a far cry from the hole in the wall Claire described on the way over. With its brick walls and dim lighting, it’s got a rustic ambiance. A jukebox plays a nineties rock song I can’t remember the name of, and there seems to be more than enough room for the thirty or so people milling about, shooting pool, throwing darts, and tossing beanbags into the corn hole board on the low stage.
I don’t know where Claire thinks I come from, but I get the distinct feeling she was trying to warn me Franco’s wouldn’t be up to my standards, as if I have standards for bars. I don’t.
Aside from the social events Scott would drag me to, I stayed in. His idea of a fun time was speaking in jargon to his buddies over import beers and fancy appetizers. I was content with my quiet—reading, cooking, bubble baths, and enjoying a glass of wine. Again, more differences between Scott and me. But the differences weren’t all bad. Without Scott, I probably would have become the world’s biggest hermit. He never let me stew in my self-loathing for too long before forcing me back on my feet. He was good for me, but wrong for me in the end.
Does that make me selfish? My chest pangs with guilt. No matter what happens, I can’t ignore the fact that Scott has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My sweet and awkward best friend who grew up too fast, becoming far too serious and neck-breakingly handsome. I need to call him. We may not be a right fit romantically, but the thought of throwing away twenty years of friendship crushes me.
Claire and I link arms as we dart through the crowd, heading toward the other side of the bar. My stomach churns. With every step, another local throws a hard glance my way. I stick out like a sore thumb in this place, and clearly, word has already spread. Henry June’s daughter is back.
Jaxon is still posted against the wall as we head his way, his intense eyes on the same girl. She’s smiling up at him as she speaks, standing far
too close for comfort. My skin crawls. He still hasn’t seen me. He’s too busy looking at her.
I hate it. I hate it as much as I hated him talking to that girl on the rock at Hollow Falls when I was fifteen.
I yank my eyes away, my gaze falling on the face of an insanely gorgeous man. With mouthwatering mocha skin and the richest light brown eyes, Danny Andrews doesn’t look like the stereotypical small-town deputy. With his tall, lean frame and confident grin, he would look right at home on the cover of a fitness magazine or a romance novel. Hell, maybe even that Bachelor show all the ladies go crazy over.
Danny matches Jaxon in height and build, but that’s where the similarities end. Stubble masks the lower half of his face, but the dimples on his cheeks peek through when he smiles. His eyes smile all on their own, and his dark, curly hair is cut close to his head. I couldn’t have pictured a better husband for the little vixen sitting in front of me.
As if hearing my thoughts, he looks back at me and lights up with recognition—but then he sees Claire. His focus is completely stolen. In one smooth step, he’s sweeping his wife into his arms and practically swallowing her in a kiss.
Wow. The heat in the room just rose to blistering. Her arms wrap around his middle, and it’s like I’ve just entered the best part of a sizzling adult flick.
I step back, feeling like I’m intruding on their intimate moment, and turn my attention to the bar. It’s long and narrow, with beer taps lining the back wall. I smile at the older woman sitting on a stool beside me. She does a double take before giving me a hasty once-over, lip curled, like my appearance disgusts her. She barks out a laugh as she tosses her eyes forward without a word.
Well, that was dramatic.
Ignoring her, I lean into the counter to get the bartender’s attention. He’s an older man, with silver sprinkled into his hair and heavy bags below his eyes. At some point, he looks right at me, a scowl already fixed on his face, but he doesn’t take my order, even when I lean forward a little more. Instead, he serves the woman with the rude stare beside me and the already drunk man on my other side.
With a frustrated breath, I push away from the bar. I don’t need to be here. I don’t need to watch Claire and Danny’s lovefest while Jaxon chats up some girl. I refuse to spend the night getting mean-mugged for the blood I carry, but before I can turn around to leave, my back slams into something hard.
I swallow, already knowing what—who—I’ll find behind me. It’s his body, his tall frame that molds firmly against my back like it was made for me. It’s his crisp cedar scent, like he’s just ridden his motorcycle through the woods. And it’s his silence that always seems to be heard the loudest.
“Two Godfathers.” Jaxon’s voice carries across the bar to a female bartender. She nods at him in acknowledgment, her rainbow-colored hair falling in front of her shoulders. Less than a minute later, two drinks, amber in color, slide beneath my chin.
Jaxon tosses her a bill, but she pushes it back with a hard look, gesturing for him to keep it. “You testing him, Jax? What are you doing bringin’ her here?”
“Just ordering a couple drinks on my buddy’s birthday, Shelby. Let’s not make this a problem.”
Shelby’s eyes narrow, then she turns to me, her pointer finger aimed at my face. “I got no beef with you, but you should know the rest of the bar does. And that man—” she looks over her shoulder at the bartender who ignored me earlier. “That’s the owner. Name’s Franco, and he hated your pops. Not a fan of you either. He ain’t gonna serve you tonight or any night ever, dollface.”
I straighten, my mouth open to let her know I really don’t give a shit, but Jaxon leans over me to lift the drinks from the bar, blocking my view of Shelby. “We get the picture. Thanks for the warning, but maybe Franco should stop being such an asshole if he wants to keep this place afloat.” Then in a softer growl aimed at me, he says, “Come with me.”
I do. I follow him, only because I have nowhere else to go. I could walk out of here, but then how would I get home? I wish I could just leave. I’m angry. Angry at that woman sitting at the bar. Angry at Franco for ignoring my order. Angry at Shelby for making things so clear. But most of all, angry because Jaxon thinks he can step in and defend me like he actually cares.
Frustrated, I move past him toward Claire and Danny, who are no longer making out. Instead, they’re standing with Tanner and the girl Jaxon was talking to earlier. She’s laughing at something as her gaze drifts to me, curiosity blossoming wide in her sable eyes.
When I get close enough, Claire reaches for my hand and pulls me into the circle they’ve created. “Aurora, this is my good friend Meg. She owns the bakery down the block.” Claire throws me a sly wink over her shoulder, and everything starts to click.
Meg. Meg’s Bakery. As in, the Meg who has a crush on Jaxon, who is also the Meg that Tanner has a crush on. Understanding fills me at once.
“I told her about your chocolate croissant obsession.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” I smile, and Meg returns it warmly.
“It’s nice to meet you too. My croissants have never been in such high demand. Thank you for that.” Her voice is sweet and melodic.
I like her, I can tell already, and I’m softened by the fact that nice people besides Claire and Danny do exist in this town.
“And you remember Danny, I’m sure.” Claire smiles proudly between us.
“Of course.” I meet his gaze, and his warmth wraps me like a blanket. “Happy birthday, Danny.”
He tilts his head, affection radiating from his expression. “It’s Deputy Danny now, Little A. And don’t you forget it.” He winks and pulls me in for a hug.
His arms are strong. Confident. They squeeze me like they’re asking me to trust and forgive him all at once. Like he knows he’s part of the town that shuns me and understands how out of place I must feel coming back. Yet Danny knows, just like I do, that this is the only place I belong.
“It’s great to see you again, Aurora. You’ve been missed.”
I laugh into his shoulder, feeling the strength of his hold which causes a squeeze in my throat. “By who, exactly?”
“Me, for one. And you know who else, Little A. Don’t let his grumpy ass fool you.” We pull apart, his hands still clasping my shoulders.
“I think we need a celebratory shot, don’t you? My birthday. You coming home. Claire handling that little pumpkin in her tummy like a champ.”
“You getting a night off for once,” Claire adds to his list with a coy look in his direction.
Danny raises his arms out wide. “There’s so much to celebrate!”
Before I wave off another drink—I haven’t even started the first—Jaxon’s handing me the two drinks he already ordered and moving back to the bar. Claire drags me to a booth nearby and starts telling me about her latest 3D ultrasound.
“I swear, Aurora. I rubbed my belly and asked her to smile for me, and she did.”
“I told her our little peanut probably just had gas,” Danny jokes with a chuckle.
Claire smacks his elbow, then chuckles and turns back to me. “Anyway, she’s perfectly happy baking away until it’s time to face the world.” She sighs as her eyes drift to the ceiling. “Can you believe there’s a person in here?”
I look down at her stomach, amazed. “It’s incredible, Claire. You’re going to be such a great mom.” And I mean it. Even though we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, I’ve seen Claire handle stress like a saint. She’s had incredible patience training me, and I love the way she glows when she speaks about her baby.
“Thanks, Aurora. I’m trying not to think about how scared shitless I am.” She laughs.
I place my hand around hers and squeeze, wishing I had some sage advice, but I’ve never even held a baby. She’s going to be just fine.
Jaxon arrives with the drinks, Meg following and Tanner on her tail like an unusually quiet caboose. He’s not even blowin
g smoke tonight. I’m surprised by how different Tanner seems without his deputy uniform on. He’s nervous. I see it in the way his eyes watch Meg when she’s not paying attention, but then flit away when she turns toward him. Interesting.
I squeeze in closer to Claire to allow room for Meg and Tanner in the circle booth. Disappointment pangs my chest when I see Jaxon at the end of the table, still standing with a tray full of shots. Danny must notice our awkward arrangement because he pulls Claire out of the booth to let Jaxon in next to me. They climb back in beside him.
Yup. Awkward.
We could easily be mistaken for three couples, but the truth is so much more complicated than that. Meg in love with Jaxon, but Tanner in love with her. Me in love with Jaxon, but Jaxon in love with no one—not anymore, anyway.
But then why does he sit so close to me, his jeans pressing against my thigh? I swallow against the kick of my heart.
Jaxon raises his brows at me once he’s passed out the shot glasses. “You cool with this?”
It’s a fair question. Jaxon’s never seen me drink, but he saw my father drink, and that was never a pretty sight. My father would spend hours a day at this bar for months on end, racking up chatter about what a hopeless mess he was, with a motherless daughter at home, no less.
My father was a hated man in Balsam Grove. Clearly, he still is.
Diluting my thoughts might be the best thing for me now. Not to mention, Claire is driving. I respond to Jaxon with a nod and pick up the shot glass to take a whiff. “Tequila?”
“Patrón. You don’t need the lime, but take it if you’re not sure about the stuff.” A crease parts his brows. “You’ve done a shot before, right?”
Pinching back a laugh, I hold the shot to my mouth and shrug. “I guess you’ll find out.”
Everyone is poised with their drinks in their hands—Claire with her club soda and the rest of us with our tequila.
“Let’s do this!” Danny yells, pounding one fist on the table while he tips his glass to his mouth.
