Going Home (Nugget Romance 1)

by Stacy Finz

  “Thank you, Donna.” Maddy choked back a sob. “And thank you for not putting a banner on the Bun Boy.”

  “Of course I’m not putting a banner on the Bun Boy. It’s absolutely ridiculous to think that a small hotel could overtax a waste system that has served this town for as long as I can remember. And I’ve lived here my whole life. Besides, that banner is fugly.”

  Maddy half laughed, half cried.

  “Fight back, girl,” Donna said.

  “Let’s go eat.” Rhys started leading her back toward the Ponderosa.

  “Don’t you two look cute together. You dating?” Donna asked.

  “No,” they said in unison.

  Thanksgiving dinner was at Sophie and Mariah’s sprawling apartment above the Ponderosa. While redoing the restaurant and bowling alley, they’d completely gutted the upstairs and had turned it into fabulous living quarters with killer views of the surrounding mountains and river. After the baby came, they’d probably look for a place with a yard. In the meantime, the apartment was perfect for entertaining family and friends.

  At least Nate would be there and could see those asinine banners for himself. Because a pic-text just didn’t do the whole “Flush” campaign justice. Although she could have done without his date. At the last minute, he’d decided to invite his latest squeeze, a designer from Restoration Hardware. According to Nate, she was young, beautiful, and busty.

  Goody!

  As Maddy pulled her car into a space near the Ponderosa she noticed Rhys’s truck in front of the police station and decided to take a detour. The door jingled when she walked in and Rhys came out of his office.

  “Hi,” Maddy said. He was wearing a long-sleeved thermal under a Houston Astros T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Other than the badge peeking out from his hemline, he looked like a man who planned to spend his day hunkered down on the couch, watching the Macy’s Parade. “How come you’re not home, eating turkey?”

  “Someone’s got to hold down the fort. Come on back.”

  She followed him into his office where she noticed a game of Texas Hold ’Em on his computer screen. “You look mighty busy.”

  “So far, all is quiet on the Western front.” He flashed her a boyish grin as if to say, I know that you know that this work thing is a load of crap. I’m hiding out here in the Bat Cave. “You on your way to Sophie and Mariah’s?”

  “Mm hmm.” She hung her coat over the back of a chair and flashed a saccharine smile. “It’s gonna be awesome. I get to sit next to Nate’s new child girlfriend with the amazing rack.”

  He chuckled, then let his gaze take a pleasure ride over her chest. “Your rack ain’t so bad.”

  Maddy looked down at her cashmere sweater. “Push-up bra.”

  “Uh-uh,” Rhys said, his mouth curving up rakishly, making her stomach do all kinds of crazy acrobatics. “I felt them, sugar. Up close and personal, if you recall.”

  She did. They’d been smashed against his chest while they’d played dueling tongues on the front porch. Just the memory made her insides melt.

  “Don’t go to dinner,” he said, giving her boobs another once-over. “Hang with me. We can spend all day talking about the Donner Party.

  “Or,” Rhys lifted his brows, “we can work on some of those kisses you supposedly don’t want.”

  “Or,” she said, her voice dripping censure, “you could go home and celebrate Thanksgiving with two children who just lost their mother.”

  She sat in the chair where she’d hung her jacket and gave him a hard stare. “Don’t punish them, Rhys. It’s not their fault that they were kept secret from you. And it’s not their fault that they don’t have anyone.”

  “Nope. It’s not their fault,” he said, and he glared right back at her. “And for that reason, I’m giving them my guardianship. But don’t expect me to do more, Maddy. I don’t know them, and this is not going to end happily ever after, we’re-a-freaking-Lifetime-movie family now. I don’t do family. And I’m going back to Houston. The end.”

  “You’ll just leave them alone when you go?” Maddy asked, not believing it for a second. He may not be a family man, but Rhys placed his responsibilities above all else. Case in point: Shep. When he left Nugget, he’d make provisions for his siblings. Maddy knew it.

  “Lina will be eighteen by then.” Instead of saying more, he came around the desk, tugged her out of the chair, and slowly backed her against the wall.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shutting you up.”

  “How?”

  “By keeping your mouth busy.”

  That’s when he went in for the kiss. And this time Maddy didn’t even try to stop him. One wet, hot kiss wouldn’t hurt, she told herself. They’d just get it out of their systems. No biggie.

  But then he pressed his hard body against her and let his warm breath and satin-soft lips float against her mouth like a whisper, and she was a goner. He moved over her so slow and sweet and sexy that it made her muscles clench and her heart stand still. And when he deepened the kiss, his tongue boldly tangling with her own, it made her want to do things with this man that she shouldn’t be ready to do. Not so soon after Dave.

  “Let me see that push-up bra,” he murmured, inching up her sweater.

  “Don’t press your luck, buster.” She swatted his hands away, whispering, “I’ve gotta go, Rhys. They’re waiting for me for dinner.”

  “Blow it off.” He was kissing her neck now, pulling her closer so she could feel the ridge in his pants grow thicker against her belly. God, she was so, so tempted.

  “I can’t.” She dragged herself just far enough away from his hold to keep from changing her mind. “It would be incredibly rude. Come with me and I’ll call the kids. We’ll all have dinner at Sophie and Mariah’s. There’s plenty for everyone.”

  “I have to cover the office,” he said, but something like yearning flickered across his face. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  She straightened her clothes, tried to catch her breath and walked behind Rhys’s desk. Well, at least she wouldn’t let those poor children spend Thanksgiving alone. She picked up the phone and dialed. “Hi, Lina. This is Maddy. I know this is short notice but would you, Sam, and Shep like to have Thanksgiving with my brother and some friends of mine?”

  When she got off the phone Rhys looked at her curiously. “What’d she say?”

  “She’s already made a big turkey and all the fixings. They’re just waiting for you to come home to eat.”

  As if Maddy needed to be reminded, Rhys said, “My home’s in Houston.”

  Chapter 12

  Maddy came home after dinner to find Dave’s angry voice on her answering machine.

  “I guess you’re still avoiding me,” he railed. “Will you stop acting like a child and pick up the goddamn phone?”

  She did a quick calculation in her head. It was nine thirty in the morning in Paris, and she’d put Dave off long enough. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He sounded aggravated. “I’m getting tired of this screening crap. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since you filed those ridiculous divorce papers. At least have the decency to drop me an email—let me know you’re okay. Jeez, Maddy, I worry.”

  “I wasn’t screening—I was out.” What did he think, she would just sit around on Thanksgiving, waiting for his calls and out of spite not answer the phone?

  “With whom? Sophie and Mariah?” he asked.

  “Mm hmm. And Nate.” And Rhys. Kissing.

  “It was just me, eating bad hotel food,” he said. “I miss you, baby.” When had Dave become so smarmy?

  “What’s up, Dave?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “I wanted to talk to you about this divorce bullshit.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “The hell there isn’t,” Dave said, raising his voice. There was a long pause and then he said, “I want you to come to Paris for Christmas
.”

  Maddy took the phone into her room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? Because you’re my wife and I miss you. This damn sale is taking twice as long as it was supposed to and I would like us to spend time together . . . away from distractions.”

  “What part of divorce don’t you understand, Dave? It’s been a month and you still haven’t signed the papers.”

  Dave got quiet, then said, “You don’t want to do this, Maddy. You’re hurt and you have every right to be. I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you’re still too furious with me to come to France, I understand, baby. But don’t give up on us. We’ll go to marriage counseling when I get back. We can split our time between the Lumber Baron and San Francisco. Whatever you want.”

  She wanted to ask him, “What about Gabriella? How is it that you don’t love her anymore?” It made her wonder if Dave always wanted the woman he couldn’t have—the one who posed the most challenges. Maybe all men were like that. Even Rhys.

  “Maddy, I don’t want to fight with you.” Fatigue and longing laced Dave’s voice. “I just think it’s important that we focus on our marriage right now.”

  “That’s the thing, Dave. I’ve been focusing on our marriage for a long time. Now, I need to focus on me.”

  She’d be damned if she’d tell him about the Addison mess. Everything always came so easy to Dave. That’s why she had so much wrapped up in making a success of the Lumber Baron. Money, for one. But most of all—tangible proof to herself that she was something other than Dave Wellmont’s second choice.

  “So what’re you saying, Maddy? That we’re through? Because I’m sensing a real reluctance on your part to work this out.”

  “Don’t put this on me. Maybe you need a reminder of why we’re in this position in the first place.”

  “What are you saying, Maddy?”

  “I think the divorce papers make what I’m saying very clear. Sign them and let’s be done with this.”

  “Baby.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t do this. It’s impulsive. Just come to Paris . . . away from distractions . . . so we can discuss this.”

  “You mean away from Gabriella?” She could hear Dave heave an annoyed sigh on the other end of the line.

  “From everything,” he finally said. “Just you and me, in the most romantic city in the world. It’ll be good, Mad . . . help us turn up the heat.”

  “Mine never went out.” But she wasn’t altogether sure that was true. Lately, she’d hardly missed him. She’d been distracted by the inn, and if she wanted to be honest with herself, a certain police chief.

  “I have to go now,” she said, feeling suddenly drained. Her failed marriage. The banners. The inn. It was all too much.

  “Okay,” he said. “But Mad, you’ll think about Paris, won’t you?”

  He never took no for an answer. “I’m hanging up now.”

  But before she could click off, Dave said, “I love you, Maddy.”

  After yoga class Maddy hurried to the Lumber Baron to call her lawyer. On her way, she passed the barber shop—the “Flush the Lumber Baron” banner still hanging from the building. As usual the Nugget Mafia gathered inside, drinking coffee. Mayor Dink Caruthers sat in Owen’s chair getting a shave, and Grace’s husband, Earl, waited, reading the paper.

  “Hey, fellows,” she called inside the door, showing that she could be the bigger person.

  Owen actually waved. She ought to put a horse head in his bed—make him an offer he couldn’t refuse. The jerk.

  “Sophie and Mariah find a live one yet?” Owen called across the shop.

  The Nugget Mafia had become obsessed with the couple’s quest to have a baby. The old coots had somehow gotten their hands on the Big Book and were laying odds on candidates. So far, Lithuanian Man was the favorite.

  “Boundaries, Owen. Boundaries.” Maddy walked away, shaking her head.

  When she got to the inn, she took off her coat and hat, hung them on the rack in her temporary office, and grabbed the phone. Because of the snow, the men were working inside. She scouted out a quiet corner near her desk and sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “Hey, Maddy.” Josh Mendelssohn answered directly, which surprised her. Usually his secretary picked up. “Nathaniel filled me in on your sewage situation.” Josh handled all the legal business for Nate’s hotels.

  “Can they actually revoke our permits?”

  “Probably not,” he said, but Maddy knew a caveat would follow.

  “But,” he continued, and there it was, “the residents could potentially file a lawsuit accusing the city of ignoring the inn’s so-called adverse environmental impact on the town, which would hold you up until it got resolved in court.”

  “Great!” They couldn’t afford for the place to sit vacant even for a few months. “Is there any way to stop this?”

  “You could offer to pay for an upgraded waste system, but I suspect that would cost more money than you have.”

  “You got that right,” she said. A citywide sewage structure, even just improvements, could cost tens of millions of dollars.

  “You and Nate need to hire a waste management expert to look at the capacity of the system. If these Addison people are talking out of their asses, end of story. If not . . . Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

  “Should we stop with the renovations in the meantime?” Maddy didn’t want to pour money into the building if they couldn’t open.

  “That’s for you and Nate to decide,” he said. “I’m not going to lie to you. Depending on how far these people take it, the courts could tie you up for years.”

  Maddy blew out a breath. “Okay, Nate and I will have a discussion. Thanks, Josh.”

  When she got off the phone, Colin stuck his head in. “Some guy named Virgil stopped by earlier. Wanted me to tell you that he has a surprise for you. He was on his way to Reno, but he said you should give him a call this evening.”

  Maddy concluded that it must have something to do with their Donner Party plans. She got up off the floor. “Thanks, Colin.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  The phone rang and Nate’s number came up on the caller ID. “What the hell do we do now?” she answered.

  “You talk to Josh?”

  “Just got off the phone with him. He’s the voice of doom.”

  “We pay him to give us the worst-case scenario, Maddy.”

  Maddy paced the room, stopped at the bay window and peered outside. They’d accomplished so much in such a short amount of time. “Should we stop the work?”

  She could almost hear Nate thinking on the other end of the phone.

  “Nope,” he finally said. “Let’s go for broke.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Screw these people!”

  “Okay,” Maddy said, half of her thrilled because they weren’t giving up, the other half screaming, Are you insane? “I’ll see what I can do on my end about swinging public sentiment our way.” How? She didn’t know. People in this town were not only loyal to the natives, but anything new—even a small inn—had them fearing overdevelopment.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be up this weekend to help you with crisis management.”

  After they said their goodbyes, Maddy went outside to clear snow for the workers. Between Pat’s efficiency and Colin’s eye for detail, they were quickly turning the old-mansion-from-hell into a thing of beauty. Because of the weather they still hadn’t been able to paint the exterior, but that didn’t keep the townsfolk from occasionally standing outside the new wrought iron gates, gawking.

  “Looking good,” Rhys called from the street.

  Maddy stopped shoveling and waved. “Come see the inside.”

  Rhys walked through the open gates and let his gaze sweep over her. “You look good, too.” He reached out and touched the hand-knit red hat her mother had sent her last Christmas. “I like this.”

  Red had al
ways been her color. She also knew her fitted coat showed off her new yoga curves, which Rhys was not-so-covertly admiring.

  She smiled up at him. “So do you.”

  He wore Levi’s that rode low on his hips and a pair of pointy-toed cowboy boots she liked. But it was the green sweater peeking out from under his jacket that brought out those sexy eyes of his.

  Rhys scanned the property. “Where is everybody?”

  “Lunch.”

  He took the shovel from her and finished clearing the steps. “I don’t like you here alone.”

  “After nearly two months, you really think they’ll come back?” she asked.

  “In an abundance of caution, I’d like you to humor me.” He leaned the shovel against the wall and looked out over the square at the banners. “You call your lawyer yet?”

  “Yep. He says we should hire a sewage expert. In the meantime, Nate says we should keep working.”

  Rhys tipped his head in the direction of the barber shop. “There’s your ticket. Get their backing and you’re golden.”

  “The Nugget Mafia?”

  Rhys chortled. “Is that what you call them?”

  “That’s what the ladies in the local cooking club call them. You have any suggestions for how I could win their favor? I’m open to anything—short of sleeping with them. Although . . .”

  Rhys glowered at her. “Not funny.” After two scorching kisses, the man had become possessive. Now that, Maddy thought, was interesting. “Why don’t you take me on that tour now?”

  Maddy led him into the stately foyer, where he let out a low whistle. The walls had been repaired and the trim work had been replaced. A new stained-glass skylight flooded the room with colored rays of sunlight.

  “I’m still deciding whether to do wallpaper in here. Any thoughts?”

  He laughed. “I don’t think I’m your guy for that sort of advice. But I’d go with your gut. You’ve got an amazing eye.”