“It’s Rory, you jackass. I’m sleepin’ with Rory, and she’s the one who needs Nat home.”
Dead silence filtered through the line, and Nash pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he hadn’t dropped the call. “Asher? You still there?”
Asher cleared his throat. “Still here. Just tryin’ to figure out how I’m gonna make it home for your funeral with all these shows I’ve got booked.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Nat’s gonna kill you. Straight up murder you in your sleep, you know that, right?” He blew out a harsh breath and chuckled. “Rory fucking Haven. Shit, man. Never would’ve thought.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m dead. I get it. Which is why I’m not tellin’ Nat anything, and neither are you.”
He groaned. “Don’t make me do that! You know secrets between us don’t work. Never have, never will.”
“Not true. I never told her about the time you pissed the bed the first time we got drunk.”
“And you never will.”
“Takin’ it to my grave, which is what I expect you to do with this.”
“I think Nat might be tipped off when she’s not invited to her big sister’s wedding.”
“Wedding? We’re not gettin’ married. Jesus. We’re just—” Just…what? The thought of saying aloud that they were just fucking made his chest tight. He knew it couldn’t be anything more than that. Knew she didn’t want anything more than that. And he didn’t either…right?
Without realizing, something had shifted in the months they’d been together, and now the thought of a future without her in it made his gut clench.
“That’s what I thought.”
“You thought nothing because your ass hasn’t been home to see any of it.” Nash didn’t mean for the words to come out so sharply, but now that they’d been uttered, he couldn’t deny their truth. Yeah, Nash had friends in town—Drew and Finn and Nola—but his best friends, his ride-or-die crew, were scattered across the world, and he fucking hated it sometimes.
Asher blew out a long breath. “I’m tryin’ to get back, man. It’s just hard with this tour. I’m hopin’ to make a trip home after we wrap up. I need to get back and see my sister and those babies she keeps poppin’ out.”
“She has two kids, not a litter.” Nash rolled his eyes, though Asher couldn’t see him. “And, hey, do me a favor and warn me ahead of time so I can get earplugs. I don’t wanna have to listen to the fangirl screams when you finally grace Havenbrook with your presence.”
“Ha. Ha. Now, seriously. What do you need? I’ll do whatever I can.”
And that, right there, was exactly why Asher was one of his ride-or-dies.
“Rory’s throwing a surprise birthday party for Gran, and she’s tryin’ to get Nat home for it.”
“I’m still not seein’ the issue? Why doesn’t Rory just call and tell Nat this?”
“She has. Our brat of a best friend is being an ass and ignorin’ all calls and texts from Rory. She’s left at least a dozen messages, all unanswered.”
Asher whistled. “Goddamn, she’s pigheaded.”
“No shit. Which is why I can’t tell her I’m callin’ on behalf of Rory. For one thing, she’d cut off my balls the second I picked her up from the airport. For another, she might not even show up in the first place, just out of spite.”
“I see your point,” he said. “How important is this to you?”
While Nash would love to see Nat again because it’d been too long, this definitely wasn’t for him. This was for Rory. It was something that had been eating away at her for a while. And what it boiled down to was, if it was important to her, it was important to him.
“It’s important.”
Asher hummed. “Kinda figured you’d say that. She’ll never come back if you just ask her. You’re gonna have to play hardball. And I think you know what you need to do.”
Nash’s mind was blank until suddenly everything clicked into place. Fuck, Nat would kill him for doing this, but Asher was right. It was the only way to get her home.
“She’ll hate me.”
“Probably. You gonna do it?”
He blew out a long breath. “Yeah.”
“All right, then. Good luck.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey, quick before you go, do you want me to make sure you’re in a black or a gray suit for your funeral?” Asher’s chuckles sounded through the line even as Nash pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up on him.
Jackass. An astute, probably accurate jackass, but a jackass nonetheless.
Without waiting for a chance to talk himself out of this, he found Nat’s name in his contacts and pressed the call button.
“Nash, hey!” she answered, the loud din of activity going on in the background nearly drowning out her voice. “What’s up? Can I call you back later? I’m out with some people, and it’s so fucking loud in here.”
“This won’t take long. Can you sneak out for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” She yelled something to whoever she was with, then the background noise grew more muted as she must’ve stepped through a door. “Okay, sorry. What’s goin’ on? Is everything okay?”
“I’m okay, but…” He blew out a deep breath, knowing it was now or never. “Downpour.”
“What? Hang on, lemme step all the way outside. I don’t think I heard you right. I thought you said downpour.”
He cleared his throat. No going back now. “I did.”
Years ago, when they were young and stupid and all three of them on a mission to get themselves killed—aka trying to entertain themselves in a town the size of a walnut—Nat had nearly drowned in the river because of a flash summer storm. The only reason she hadn’t was because he and Asher had come immediately when she’d called for help. That night, amidst promises not to tell a soul—least of all their parents—they’d instituted the code word. Anyone could use it at any time for any reason, and the others would come running, no questions asked.
Knowing it was there, knowing he had the kind of friends he could call on and would drop everything at a moment’s notice to be there when he needed them was the best feeling in the world. But knowing it was there had always been enough for Nash, and he’d never actually had to use it.
He’d come to Nat’s rescue more than once, though—bailing her out of jail because she couldn’t call anyone in her family, bringing her gas on a deserted road she never should’ve been traveling, picking her up from a date gone wrong with a guy who’d made her bright and vibrant face turn pale and withdrawn… Each and every time, he’d shown up. No questions asked.
And, just like he’d hoped, Nat didn’t disappoint. “When do you need me?”
Rory paced her kitchen, trying to take slow, measured breaths to the rhythm of the ringing phone. She’d read somewhere that controlled breathing could reduce anxiety and anger and help one maintain a calm demeanor.
That shit was just not working. Rory’s anger was still sky-high, her teeth clenched as she recalled what Ella had told her when she’d dropped the girls at Mimi’s for a sleepover. Rory could handle a lot, but it turned out she lost her mind when her daughters were dragged into a situation they didn’t need to be involved in.
“Hello?”
Rory stopped pacing and clenched her fist. “Carol Ann? Hey, this is Rory Haven. How’re you doin’?”
“Rory? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! I’m just fine. I want to thank you again for bringin’ your lemon bars to the bake sale yesterday. They sold in a flash!”
Of course they had. Her lemon bars were delicious. “I’m happy to hear that. And actually, the bake sale is why I’m callin’.”
That damn bake sale might as well be a den of gossip for all the sordid half-truths that got passed around there. Rory was ashamed to admit she’d once been on that side of it, running her mouth right along with Carol Ann about things that didn’t concern her and were none of her business.
And hadn’t that just
come around to bite her in the ass?
“Oh, all right,” Carol Ann said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Ella mentioned y’all were chattin’ up a storm about my little situation.” Rory waited, downright giddy when Carol Ann sucked in a sharp breath. Gossipers weren’t used to being confronted, and they relied on their subjects to be too timid to approach. Well, fuck that. They brought her daughters into it, whether intentionally or not, and she wasn’t going to sit back and let them think that was okay. “I so appreciate y’all’s concern for me out here on my own, but I wanna let y’all know that I’m doin’ just fine. We’re doin’ just fine. No mopin’ about or bein’ depressed.”
“Oh, well…we just— We were—”
“Concerned for my well-being, obviously,” Rory said dryly.
“Yes, of course! We’re just worried is all. Wanna make sure y’all’re doin’ okay.”
“Well, there’s no need for that. Y’all don’t need to waste your breath or energy frettin’ about li’l old me,” she said with a fake cheeriness. “And I’d especially appreciate it if you didn’t do all that worryin’ within earshot of my seven-year-old and her friends.”
And that right there was the kicker. Rory could’ve let the whole thing roll off her back if Ella hadn’t approached her about it. Hadn’t held Rory’s face between her little hands, expression utterly serious as she’d studied her and asked her if she was really moping and being depressed over her daddy and Sarah Beth. The question had nearly gutted Rory. Her girls had enough to worry about trying to traverse this new life, without concerning themselves with the made-up problems busybodies attached to their momma.
Carol Ann cleared her throat. “Certainly. I apologize that she heard that. We were just—”
“Yes, I know. Concerned for me. Bless your hearts. Now that we’ve got this all settled, would you mind passin’ that along to your friends? I’d do it myself, but I’m a little busy out here, wallowin’ in all my tears.”
Satisfaction rolled through Rory as she pressed the end button without waiting for Carol Ann’s response. She set her phone on the counter, unable to stop the smile from overtaking her face.
“I am so turned on right now.”
Rory whipped around to find Nash standing in her dining room, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe and all the yummy places in between. She lifted an eyebrow. “Momma bears get you goin’ now, is that right?”
He closed the distance between them, wrapped an arm around her waist, and tugged her until their bodies were flush. “Not all of ’em. Just this one.” Dipping his head, he pressed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “You got anyone else you can call and yell at?”
Rory laughed, and Nash captured the sound with his mouth. How was this so easy with him? They butted heads, yes. They had disagreements about the correct materials to use in a client’s home, or the minute details of a piece of custom furniture. He riled her up like no one else could. Like no one else ever had. But…maybe that was exactly what she needed.
“What’re you doin’ here?” she asked against his lips. “I thought you were stayin’ late at the Shaws’ to finish up the outdoor kitchen. You know we’re startin’ the Taylors’ remodel next week, and we can’t push it back. We’re already booked out too far.”
“Got it covered, boss.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“Liar.” He smacked her ass before slipping around her and heading straight for the fridge. He’d started leaving a six-pack of his favorite beer at her place, and he no longer asked her if she wanted a glass of wine—the answer was always, always yes, so he’d taken to just pouring her one when he grabbed his fix.
She murmured her thanks when he handed her a glass full of her favorite red. “So, you got finished early and figured you’d just stop by?”
“Actually…I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her brows hit her hairline. She could count on one hand how many times someone had surprised her and still have about four fingers left. “Is that surprise in your pants? Because I gotta tell you, your pickup lines need a little work.”
He barked out a laugh and wrapped his arm around her neck, tugging her into him and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Maybe later, if you’re lucky.”
If tonight was like every other night he came by when the girls were gone, there were no maybes about it.
“My surprise is outside?” she asked as he led her to the front door. The sun was just setting, making the temperature dip slightly. She shivered as the wind kissed her bare legs, the hem of her dress ruffling in the breeze, and Nash tucked her farther into his side. “I’m not rollin’ around in the grass with you. It’s too chilly.”
“I’ll make sure you stay warm.”
“I just bet you will.”
He chuckled under his breath, held open the screen door for her, and ushered her out onto her new, beautifully done porch. He really had done an amazing job restoring it to pristine condition. She loved to sit out here on the steps after the girls went to bed with a glass of wine and just…be. The grasshoppers and whippoorwills were like her own personal lullaby. On nights like that, there was nothing better than her little secluded piece of heaven, and she could hardly remember the time when she’d hated this place.
“So, what’s my surprise? Do I have to go diggin’ for it, or are you—”
“Quit your sassin’ and look, princess.” With hands on her shoulders, Nash turned her to the right.
“What—” Her breath caught. There, hanging at the far side of her porch, was a swing. A beautifully ornate, obviously custom swing that, even if it had come straight from her dreams, couldn’t have been any more perfect. Enough cushions and pillows topped the piece that she wanted to fall into it and never leave. “Nash…”
“Do you like it? I sorta guessed on the details based on the design specifics you have me do for our clients, but I—”
“You made it?” Rory looked at him over her shoulder.
“Well, not the cushions, obviously, but…” He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d custom-built something for her—something she hadn’t ever even asked for—just to make her happy.
She knew he did work like that—she’d requested it multiple times for clients—but she’d never dreamed he’d make something for her.
“When you were workin’ on Grace and Bill’s place, you mentioned how much you loved porch swings. No big deal.”
No big deal? Um. No. It was a huge deal. She’d consulted on Grace and Bill’s house last year. Before she and Nash had officially started working together, when she’d just been coming in behind him and finessing some of the design details as a favor for family friends. She didn’t even remember mentioning it, let alone discussing it at length enough to warrant him making it just for her.
She turned to him, rested a hand on his chest, and looked up into his eyes. “To me, it’s a big deal. I can’t believe you did this. When on earth did you have time?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I did a little here and there, whenever I had a spare minute. I took measurements when I replaced the boards, and then drilled the holes while you were gone.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You wanna try it out?”
“Yes.” Before the word even slipped out, she stepped toward it. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as the scent of pine hit her nose. It was one of her favorites because it smelled like new beginnings.
And that was exactly what this was, wasn’t it?
A breeze kicked up, the leaves rustling in the trees, and she shivered again.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little. I’ll go grab—”
“You’ll go sit. I’ll go grab.” Without another word, he slipped back into the house as she settled on the deep seat of the swing.
She tucked one foot under her and pushed off with the other, closing her eyes at the peacefulness of sitting out here and listening to nothing but nature. No road noise, no neighbors, just grasshoppers and the
sounds of the wind through the leaves.
Nash draped a blanket over her lap before handing her the glass of wine. He settled next to her on the swing, setting his beer bottle on his knee and tucking her into his side. “So how’d I do?”
“It’s perfect.”
“C’mon now, I haven’t produced a single piece that you haven’t had something to say about.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He hummed. “You can tell me if you want something different. I don’t mind.”
She turned her head to look up at him, feeling her throat tighten at the earnestness of his stare. And for the first time, she was honest with herself about this thing that was happening between them. Nash wasn’t perfect. He was the last thing she needed, and he sure as hell wasn’t part of her plans. But damn if she wanted to let him go.
Pressing her lips to his stubbled jaw, she said, “I don’t want anything different at all.”
After fourteen voice mails and too many texts to count, Rory had given up on getting her pain-in-the-ass sister there for Gran’s birthday. Nothing pissed her off more than not being able to accomplish something she’d set her mind to, and she hated her sister a little bit for ruining what Rory had planned.
But just because she couldn’t give Gran the one thing she wanted for her eightieth, that didn’t mean Rory couldn’t still throw her one hell of a party. It’d been a challenge, fitting party prep in between juggling her job at town hall, school bake sales and PTA meetings, not to mention all the design work with Nash… Though, if she were honest, it wasn’t tackling the clients with Nash that took up so much of her time. And energy.
Their time together hadn’t waned. If anything, it’d grown more frequent. While he kept his overnight stays to the days the girls were at Sean’s, he’d taken to coming by on her nights with them, too. Bringing the girls’ favorite takeout and hanging out while they all crammed on the couch and watched a movie.
Ava and Ella both loved him, and while she’d never introduced him as anything more than Nash, Aunt Nat’s best friend, she was relieved at how much they liked him.
Hometown Troublemaker (Havenbrook Book 2) Page 18
