The Best Intentions (Welcome To Starlight Book 1)

by Michelle Major

  How did this make her any different than her mom? Always falling hard for whatever man she took to her bed, brokenhearted when each of them left her behind until she was finally just broken.

  Kaitlin had sworn she wouldn’t make those same mistakes. Hell, she’d left her old life behind so that she could have a fresh start.

  If only Finn felt the same way she did. If only he would stay in Starlight.

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

  If only she weren’t such a softhearted fool.

  He’d given her no reason to believe anything had changed between them. In fact, she couldn’t shake the conviction that there was more to his boss showing up in Starlight than he was willing to admit. But the way he made love to her—like she was the most precious thing in his world—gave her hope.

  Kaitlin hated hope. Hope led to disappointment.

  She climbed out of bed and threw on one of his discarded T-shirts.

  “You look good in my clothes,” he said with a wink as he exited the bathroom. He’d pulled on boxers and a pair of loose basketball shorts. “Are you ready for dessert?”

  “Sure,” she said, keeping her smile bright. He led the way to the kitchen and pulled out a carton of mint chocolate-chip ice cream from the freezer.

  Kaitlin grabbed two spoons from a drawer as Finn took off the lid. “How do you feel about your dad leaving you in charge of the art show?”

  He took a spoon from her and sat at the kitchen table, pushing out the chair next to his for her. “I’m suspicious anytime Jack Samuelson voluntarily relinquishes control, but I have no problem making the opening remarks on Saturday. My mom chaired the committee the first year the Starlight Art Festival took place. She’d just taken up watercolor painting and was so excited to make the town some sort of mecca for regional artists. It was the summer before she died, and First Trust has been the event’s main sponsor ever since.”

  “Finn, wow.” Kaitlin paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth. “I didn’t realize what a personal connection you had to it.” She shook her head. “Your dad probably got sick of me trying to convince him to reconsider the amount he’d pledged to fund it. I was worried about the bank’s bottom line but had no idea why it meant so much to him.”

  “I’m sure he appreciated your concern.” Finn used one finger to nudge the spoon toward her mouth. “I understand the disconnect, though. It’s the same thing I grappled with on Seth’s business loan. Things are much simpler when they’re just numbers on a page.”

  “I guess.”

  He inclined his head. “Or when you establish the rules for something early on?”

  Her cheeks heated at the teasing note to his tone. Here was her chance to tell him she wanted to throw her silly guidelines out the window and go all in with him.

  But something stopped her.

  Doubt. Fear. The possibility that he would break her heart.

  “I have another rule for you,” she said instead.

  His brows furrowed. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

  She pointed her spoon toward him. “No mining for chips.”

  He glanced down at the container of ice cream, a slow smile curling his lips. He’d dug around, maybe without even realizing it, for the hunks of chocolate embedded in the ice cream. “But the chips are the best part.”

  She shook her head, trying to keep her expression neutral. “If you dig them all out, the next person will be left with plain ice cream.”

  “I want the good stuff now,” he said unapologetically. He held up his spoon. “I’ll share if you say please.”

  “Please,” she whispered, leaning forward. The chocolate was rich and creamy on her tongue. Then Finn kissed her, and after that she forgot all about ice cream.

  * * *

  Finn gulped down another swig of water as he waited to one side of the grandstand on Saturday morning. He’d told Kaitlin he had no problem making the opening remarks for the art festival, but at that point he hadn’t considered how his family’s history with the event would affect him.

  The festival appeared to have quadrupled in size since Finn had last attended. He could still remember that first year. There had been folding tables and makeshift booths with a handful of local artists selling their creations. His mom had been so proud when the last of her watercolors had sold, and she’d insisted on taking the family out to dinner with her profits.

  By that Christmas, she’d been gone.

  He’d been angry when his dad had stepped in the following year to sponsor the event, offering enough funding to make it worthwhile for the local art community to keep it going. To Finn, the art show had belonged to his mom and he’d avoided downtown annually on the weekend when it took place until the summer he’d left for college.

  Now he was back and it was as if his mother’s unintended legacy surrounded him.

  “We’re thrilled to have you with us this year.”

  He blinked and nodded, forcing himself to focus on Torrey Daniels, the woman who was chairing the event.

  “Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat when the word came out sounding like a frog’s croak.

  “Your dad has been so supportive through the years of the arts community in Starlight. Anytime we have a new idea, he finds a way to make it happen. There aren’t too many people like him in the world, willing to put their money toward what they value in life.”

  Finn sucked in a breath. All the anger he’d felt toward his father through the years felt like so much water under the bridge right now. Maybe Jack had been gruff and unemotional with Finn and Ella, but Finn could clearly see that his dad’s love for his late wife permeated everything he did. He guessed that Torrey was in her midforties, with sandy-brown hair cut into a stylish but easy-to-manage bob. She wore a dress of deep purple, a color he imagined his mother would have loved. She would have appreciated everything about the event. The thought made fresh pain engulf his heart, covering the old ache of missing her like an avalanche of emotion.

  “Glad to be here,” he said, willing the words to sound less lame than they did.

  Torrey flashed an awkward smile. “Okay, then. I’m going to start things off, and then I’ll ask you to say a few words before I announce the featured artists for this year.”

  “What does is it mean to be a featured artist?”

  “Those are the artists who were given stipends after last year’s show,” she told him with a frown. “It’s one of the reasons we’ve gotten so big. Part of the bank’s funding goes toward funding artists in each medium. Attendees vote and your father and his committee make the final decision.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Over the years, several of the artists who’ve received funding from First Trust have gone on to break out at both the regional and national levels. Many times all a person needs is someone to believe in them.”

  Finn felt his mouth go dry. “Tell me about it.”

  “Your father is truly an amazing man.”

  “I can see why you think that,” Finn said quietly, his senses on overload at the influx of new information to process about Jack Samuelson.

  Because of Finn’s anger, he’d missed out on so much. Not that he’d misjudged his dad exactly. Jack had admittedly been an awful father after his wife died. But that wasn’t the whole of him, the way Finn had always believed.

  Torrey checked her watch. “Here we go,” she told him with an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  Finn clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched her walk toward the podium. She welcomed the artists and the attendees and then thanked the businesses and community of Starlight for their continued support before inviting Finn to join her onstage.

  He registered a polite round of applause, but his focus remained on keeping his composure despite the tumult of sentiment his conversation with Torrey had released i
nside him. “Thank you.” He spoke into the microphone, trying not to wince at the low whine of feedback. “I’ll be honest,” he continued, glancing out at familiar and new-to-him faces. “It’s been years since I attended one of these festivals. Before her death, my mom was an aspiring artist and deeply committed to fostering a thriving art scene in Starlight.”

  He sucked in a breath at what he’d just revealed. Finn didn’t talk about his mother’s death, and certainly not in this kind of public forum. Another round of applause sounded and his gaze caught and held on Kaitlin. She stood in the center of the crowd and gave him a small smile and nod, like she was proud of him for sharing that bit of himself.

  “But I’m happy to be here now,” he told the crowd. “I’m impressed by this community and what my father and First Trust have done to support it. In a few minutes, you’re going to be introduced to the artists who were funded through a program at First Trust. My dad doesn’t just run a bank here in Starlight. He cares about this town and its future. We’re all dedicated and hope that when you think about the kind of service you want from a financial institution, you’ll remember that commitment.”

  He took another breath as the understanding of what he wanted from his future dawned on him. He couldn’t look at Kaitlin again; otherwise he might rush off the stage and pull her into his arms. She might have rules, but he was about to break every last one of them. He wanted her. For keeps. “We might not be artists at First Trust, but I hope you’ll visit our booth and learn more about some of the programs we’re offering to help you meet your life goals, no matter what they might be.”

  As he backed away from the microphone, he couldn’t help but notice the applause was more intense than when he’d taken the stage a few minutes earlier.

  “You did great,” Torrey whispered, gently squeezing his arm as she moved past him.

  Finn shook hands with the artists waiting to be introduced, each one thanking him and offering kind words about his father and the way he’d personally supported them over the previous year. Finn wasn’t sure whether to be humbled or irritated at how easily his dad seemed to offer encouragement and backing to everyone in his life except Finn.

  He couldn’t stand to examine the thought too closely or else he’d have to admit his part in that.

  Kaitlin was waiting for him behind the line of booths.

  “You did great,” she said with a huge smile.

  His heart hammered in his throat at everything this woman made him feel. Could he say it now? Blurt out that he loved her and hope for the best?

  There was no way she couldn’t feel something for him. No way his emotions were one-sided. He just had to convince her to take a chance.

  “It helped having a friendly face in the audience.” He reached for her but she gave small shake of her head, her smile dimming slightly. “We’re in public,” she whispered.

  “I don’t care,” he answered. “We need to talk, Kaitlin. There’s so much...”

  “Finn!” He turned as one of the sound guys waved to him from the back of the stage. “Torrey needs you for pictures with the artists.”

  Finn cursed under his breath.

  “Go,” Kaitlin said. “I’ll be at the First Trust booth all day. We can talk later.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Delayed gratification is good for you,” she said with a laugh, then stood on tiptoe to brush a quick kiss across his lips. “There’s something to tide you over.”

  “So sweet. I’ll find you,” he promised before heading back toward the stage.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was late in the afternoon before Kaitlin felt like she had a moment to breathe. The bank’s booth had been swamped with people all day. Some had been in the crowd that morning and heard Finn’s speech, and word of mouth had made talk of First Trust’s dedication to the Starlight community spread like wildfire.

  Although many longtime locals already did their banking with the institution, Starlight had grown in the past few years. Many of the newer residents were also new to First Trust. Before the recent social media campaign and marketing initiatives, they hadn’t done much to attract additional customers.

  Jack had always believed that if he engaged in good business practices, he’d have a successful business. Kaitlin wished she’d spoken up earlier about the red flags she’d noticed in the way things had been handled. At this point, they had a good start on making First Trust healthy again, but there was still a lot of work to be done.

  She hated to think of doing it without Finn. Why couldn’t he see that he belonged in Starlight? His words this morning had caused goose bumps to break out across her arms and legs. He had a history here but also a future.

  He’d looked so happy when he’d walked off the stage, and now she wished she’d run into his arms the way she’d wanted to. If he didn’t care about being discreet, what did it matter?

  She swallowed against the lump rising in the back of her throat. It mattered because her reputation was on the line. As much as she might think he should be in Starlight, until Finn agreed she couldn’t put herself out there.

  Rolling her shoulders, she glanced down the grassy pathway between the rows of booths. Finn had stopped by several times, but she’d always been talking to people. She’d taken a lunch break but had found him surrounded by a group of Jack’s friends, who seemed to be regaling him with embarrassing anecdotes from his youth.

  Frustration skittered along the back of her neck. What had he wanted to talk to her about? She hoped with every fiber of her being that it had nothing to do with him leaving town and heading back to his real life in Seattle.

  It was too soon. It would be too soon for the rest of her life.

  “I’m going to walk around for a few minutes,” she told Meg, who’d arrived at the booth minutes earlier for her shift.

  “You can even go for the day if you want,” the young teller offered. “I think things are slowing down.”

  Kaitlin nodded. “Thanks, Meg. I’ll be here in the morning.”

  The younger woman flashed a cheeky grin. “No offense, but you might need to get a life.”

  “You could be right,” Kaitlin agreed with a laugh. She wanted a life, here in Starlight with Finn. She’d shut down her emotions when she left Seattle two years ago because they’d caused her nothing but trouble. Being with Finn didn’t make her feel weak or powerless. She could be her best self with him, which gave her the courage to believe she could share that she’d fallen in love.

  For once, leading with her heart might turn out well.

  A jazz quartet played from the grandstand at the center of the park, and she headed there, hoping she’d run into Finn. Her phone was out of battery, so she couldn’t call until she charged it. Groups of people still filed along the path and most of the display booths were filled with potential customers. By all accounts, the festival was a huge success, and not for the first time today she wondered why Jack had willingly missed it.

  Suddenly she froze as she heard her name called by a familiar voice.

  No.

  Not here.

  She turned, reluctant to face her past and silently praying she’d heard wrong, but there was no mistake. Robbie Marici, her ex-boyfriend and the biggest regret of her life, stood in front of a booth displaying colorful landscape prints.

  “You look good, Kaitlin,” he said, one side of his mouth curving into a patronizing smirk. “All fresh and clean. It’s working for me.”

  His eyes on her made her feel dirty, and her flight reflex kicked in hard. Panic pricked its way along the back of her neck as she darted a glance around to make sure no one she knew had seen her with this man.

  Not that Robbie stood out as anything but a tall, handsome, casually dressed festival attendee. His dark hair was shorter than it had been when they dated, and a few gray strands flecked the sides. He had a naturall
y lean build and strong features, but there was no misinterpreting the angry glint in his hazel eyes.

  “You can’t be here,” she said, trying to act like this was a normal conversation. “You don’t belong.”

  “Hey, Pot,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Meet Kettle. This town isn’t where either of us should be, sweetheart.”

  She gave a small shake of her head and moved out of the way of a couple with a toddler and another baby in a stroller. “I live here. It’s my home.”

  “Right,” he agreed, too readily for her liking. “I’ve been watching you today at your little bank booth. People like you. They trust you.”

  Kaitlin swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. Robbie had been watching her. “So what?”

  “So, we can use that to our advantage.”

  She stepped closer, hitching her head toward the empty area between two booths. Robbie followed, and she ignored the sweat that rolled between her shoulders. It was quieter in the small space, the sound of her pounding heart filling her ears.

  “There’s no ‘we,’” she told him. “There hasn’t been for two years.”

  He shrugged. “I feel like we never really got closure with the way you ran off.”

  “Closure,” she said with a sniff. “Give me a break. What do you want, Robbie?”

  “There are a lot of old folks in this town. I’m sure they rely on their friendly neighborhood banker.” He leaned in closer. “And if that banker had access to their accounts...”

  “Don’t even go there.” She held up a hand. “First, I’m not a banker. I work at the bank but not directly with customers or their accounts. Even if I did, there’s no way I’d get in on one of your stupid schemes. Forget it.”

  “Come on,” he urged. “This place has so much potential.”

  It did, Kaitlin agreed, but not in the way Robbie believed. Starlight had the potential to be a true home for her, but suddenly her life here felt tainted. She’d been wild in her younger years and knew she might have been convinced to go along with Robbie if she’d stayed with that low-life crowd from her past.