by Carrie Elks
“I have things to do here.”
“What things?” Derek was puffing. Probably walking on his treadmill. At almost seventy, he was a fitness freak. “You helping your aunt bake her cakes? Or maybe you’re writing a few new songs for your brother. Dammit, Cam, what on earth do you have to do in Nowheresville that you can’t do here?”
Sometimes it felt like Derek knew more about Cam’s life than Cam did. But that was his job. He’d been Cam’s agent for years, and was good at what he did, even if it felt like he was paying twenty percent of his income to a Rottweiler at times.
Cam frowned. “Why can’t I just be taking a break?”
“Because breaks are for pussies. I can’t tell Marty you’re in Virginia because you need the fresh air. Let’s see, maybe you can be there because somebody needs you. Any problems with your family?”
“I’m not using my family as an excuse for being here, Derek.” Cam shook his head. Sometimes his agent was an ass. A clever, money-making ass, but an ass nonetheless.
“How about business? No wait… I got it.” Derek snapped his fingers, the sound echoing through the car speakers. “Charity. You’re doing charity work. Giving back while you recover from your injury. That sounds good. We could even get a Sunday supplement article written. Photos of you surrounded by good deeds. Keep up your profile.” Derek sounded almost smug.
“Charity work?” Cam echoed. “What kind of charity work?”
“I dunno. Is there a food bank there?”
“I don’t think so.” The exit ramp was ahead. Cam merged into the right lane, and followed it, turning into the feeder lane for the dealership. “There’s not a lot of homeless here. There’s a church that helps out people in need.”
“Maybe we should call there. Wait. Is there a high school nearby? You could do some volunteer coaching. We can get the press involved. High profile community work. It’ll go down well with the team.”
“You want me to coach a high school team?” Cam pulled into a space and hit the brake. Two mechanics heading toward the workshop turned to look at the Audi, their eyes widening as they saw the dent in the side.
“No, I want you to be seen with a high school team. Community work, that’s the thing. I want your hair cut, your best smile on, and you to continue working out like you’re still playing. You need to be a force to be reckoned with on the sidelines, the same way you are when you’re in the game. Leave it with me. I’ll get my people to speak to some local schools and teams. We can make this work. And in the meantime, keep your nose clean and keep your body in peak condition, okay? I can probably get a lot of sponsorships for us after this.”
Cam rolled his eyes. “Sure. Got it. Listen, I have to go. I’m at the dealership.”
“You buying a new car?”
“Reparing the old one. It’s a long story.”
“Okay. Go and get it repaired. I’ll call you this afternoon.” Derek didn’t say goodbye before ending the call. He never did. His time was money, and extraneous words cost dollars. Shaking his head as he turned off the ignition, Cam walked into the dealership and headed for the reception desk, pretending not to notice the staff members staring at him, and elbowing each other as he weaved his way through the cars in the showroom.
“Hi.” A young man with a bright smile greeted him. “Mr. Hartson, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Cam passed him the car keys. “I have my car booked in for repairs. While I’m here, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, shoot.” Another wide smile.
“Do you have a phone number for a Honda Dealership? I need to buy a new wheel for a Civic.”
Chapter Six
“Your presentation was impressive,” the older woman said. “And your résumé, too.” She turned over the piece of paper with Mia’s work history printed out on it, placing it on the table. “Why would you want to come work for a company like ours when you’ve been running your own for years?”
Mia smiled. She’d rehearsed this answer in her head ever since she’d received the invitation to interview. Before that, even. Because it’s the same question she would have asked if their roles were reversed. “I ran the company with my ex-husband. I took responsibility for the sales and marketing, while he ran the operations and finance. We dissolved the business last year and agreed to divorce, and now I’m looking for a new challenge here in Hartson’s Creek.”
“So you’re planning to stay here?” the younger man who’d introduced himself as Nathan, asked her. She knew from reading about the business that Nathan was one of four siblings involved in running the distillery, which was owned by their mother, Eliana Scott, who was sitting next to him. Nathan was the operations manager, and if she got the job, he’d be her boss. But she got the impression it was Eliana she really needed to impress.
“Yes. My children are happily enrolled in local schools, and I’m staying with my uncle while I look for a permanent home for us. I love it here, and have no plans to relocate.”
Eliana nodded. “Have you applied for any other positions?”
“A few,” Mia told her with a nod. “But can I be completely honest?”
Nathan raised an eyebrow, then nodded.
“My heart is really set on working for you. You have an amazing product, and that’s a dream for a marketing executive like me. While your whiskey sells itself once somebody has tasted it, I know that I can introduce it to so many new consumers. As I said in my presentation, there are a lot of different strategies we could follow, depending on what you think fits best with your brand. But I’m passionate about making your market share increase. About finding untapped markets not only in the US, but abroad as well. I can make your product stand out and make G. Scott Carter the brand that everybody asks for when they want a glass of whiskey at the end of a meal.” She took a deep breath before looking them both in the eye. “You’re great at making whiskey, and I’m great at marketing. I feel like this could be a mutually beneficial relationship.”
Nathan bit down a grin, and looked at his mother. “Any more questions?” he asked her.
Eliana shook her head. “I think I have all I need.”
“You should hear from us within a few days,” Nathan told her as he escorted her out of the interview a few minutes later. “But I can tell you I’m impressed. And my mother was, too.”
She was? Mia blinked, because Eliana had looked thoroughly unimpressed. But she’d take it anyway. “Thank you for your time. I appreciate it. You have a very special business here.”
Once she’d walked out of the building, Mia let out a long, deep breath, feeling her muscles relax for the first time that day. Despite the days of practicing her presentation, and the near-miss thanks to her tire blowing, the interview had gone well.
Or at least, it had felt that way.
It was only as she opened her car door that she noticed a note stuffed between her windshield and the wiper. She pulled it out, the paper flapping in the breeze as she unfolded it.
It was a complement slip, with Lawson Honda, Shawsville VA printed in red swirly letters at the top.
Dear Ms. Devlin. As instructed, your tire has been replaced, and your spare tire has been placed next to the trunk. Thank you for paying in full over the telephone.
She blinked at the words. She’d been planning to drive to a garage on her way home. Not a dealership, because she knew they charged an arm and a leg. A local garage selling generic brands would be fine. She wanted to feel annoyed, because she was perfectly capable of doing this.
But instead, a little fire sparked deep inside her. Because the tall, muscled football player had gone out of his way to help her. And it made her feel a little gooey.
Yeah, and look where gooey had gotten her. The last time she melted like a chocolate bar on a hot day she’d ended up pregnant as a nineteen year old college student. And it had landed her right here a decade and a half later.
After lifting the heavy spare tire into the trunk, she sat down heavily on the driver
’s seat and let her head fall back against the chair. So now she didn’t only owe him ten thousand dollars, or for the help he’d given her changing the flat, but for a brand spanking new Goodyear tire that would probably cost more than all the money left in her checking account.
And still the fire didn’t go out. Her mouth dried as she thought about those eyes. The ones that kept looking at hers. And his lips, damn they were hot. She’d never really noticed a man’s lips before but his were flawless. Soft and parted. Maybe a little too big on anybody else, but perfectly masculine with his square jaw and dark beard.
The kind of lips you’d never want to stop kissing.
She rolled her eyes at herself. Those whiskey fumes had to be stronger than she’d thought. Because she didn’t do gooey.
She did strong mom. Determined worker. Woman who wouldn’t be messed with.
But gooey? Definitely not that. Because gooey always ended in a big mess.
“Look at us,” Tanner said, carrying a tray of beers to the table where Cam was sitting with his brothers. “The Heartbreak Brothers together again. I never thought I’d see the day.” He handed a bottle to Logan, Cam’s twin, and then to Gray, their eldest brother. They’d deliberately chosen a table in the far corner of the Moonlight Bar. With Gray’s worldwide fame as a Grammy Award winning singer, and Cam’s football career, they were used to attracting attention whenever they got together.
But if they could, they avoided the spotlight. When it was the four of them – or five when their younger sister, Becca agreed to join them – they wanted to be normal. Shoot the breeze without having to put on a front. Tease each other the way they did when they were teenagers sitting around the kitchen table while Aunt Gina chided them for not washing their hands or bickering over the mashed potatoes.
“Do you know you’re the only one of us that calls us the Heartbreak Brothers?” Gray said, shaking his head. “I thought we left that shit behind when we left high school.”
“By the time I started high school, it was part of the local lexicon.” Tanner shrugged. “It’s not my fault we’re handsome bastards.”
Cam choked on a mouthful of beer. The youngest of the four at twenty-nine, Tanner was the wackiest, too. The family clown who always made them smile. Gray was the protective older brother. Logan, the one who always talked things out. And Cam? He’d always been the strong and silent type. The one who quietly got things done. It was only on the football field that he’d stood out.
Of course, that had changed over the years. It was impossible not to have a certain amount of confidence when you were the star safety of your team. That self-belief was critical to succeeding in his career.
Logan tipped his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips. “I hear you’ve started going to Lainey’s beauty salon to get your nails done,” he said to Tanner.
“Yeah. So what?” Tanner shrugged. “A man’s hands are important. When I shake on a deal I want to look successful. Maybe you should go. I hate to say it, but you’re starting to smell of farm.”
Logan blinked. “Farm? Get out of here. I shower every day.” He took a swig of beer, then surreptitiously lifted his hand to his nose to sniff it. “Farm,” he muttered. “Asshole.”
Gray lifted his beer to Cam. “Welcome back. I bet you’re happy to be here talking about beauty salons and pig shit. Beats being in Boston on a Friday night, am I right?”
Cam raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yep. Just how I wanted to spend my Friday night. If I wanted to talk nail colors, we could have gone to Chairs.”
Tanner shuddered. “Don’t talk about Chairs. I hate it. I swear it should be declared a form of torture in the Geneva Convention.”
“Didn’t you propose to Van at Chairs?” Gray asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah.” Tanner’s brows knitted together. “But that doesn’t count. It’s still the ninth circle of hell on any night I’m not proposing.”
“It’s just a Friday night get together,” Cam murmured, shaking his head. “How bad can it be?” Chairs had been part of Hartson’s Creek’s weekly tradition for as long as Cam could remember. It took place every Friday night from spring to fall. The townsfolk would drive to the grassy shore along the creek, bringing their own chairs and baked goods, along with pitchers of lemonade and ice tea for them all to share. And of course there was gossip. A whole pile of it.
When Cam was a kid, they’d go with their Aunt Gina and set up games of flag football in the fields. But he hadn’t been to Chairs for years.
Thank God.
“It’s not just a get together,” Tanner grumbled to Cam. “It’s a chance for the whole town to look at you and judge. You can bet you’re the topic of conversation right now. They’re probably all planning on pushing their eligible daughters on you as we speak. Before you know it, there’ll be a crowd of them standing outside your house with torches, chanting for you to come out.
“This is Hartson’s Creek, not Salem,” Logan pointed out. “And won’t they be more likely to talk about you?” he asked Tanner. “I hear you and Van are thinking about starting a family. She’s probably describing it in intimate detail to everybody there. Stamina, fertility, and everything else.”
Even in the gloom of the bar, Cam could see Tanner blanch. “How do you know we’re trying for a baby?”
“Van told Courtney. She wanted some tips.” Logan grinned. “I guess some of us have it and some of us don’t.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Gray asked. “I’ve got two kids.”
“Because we don’t want twins,” Tanner told him, his face serious. “One is enough.”
“I don’t think you get the choice,” Cam pointed out, his eyes meeting Logan’s. “And what’s wrong with twins? I like being a twin.”
“Changing the subject, Logan told us you’re thinking of retiring,” Gray said, his tone turning serious. “Is that right?”
Cam shrugged. “I’m thinking about a lot of things. Not getting many answers though.”
Gray’s smile was full of sympathy. He’d had to make a few career changing decisions himself. Moving from L.A. back to Hartson’s Creek to be with Maddie Clark hadn’t exactly been a boost to his career. And yet Cam knew his brother was the happiest he’d ever been, surrounded by his family and running a recording studio on the grounds of his home. “You’ll get there,” Gray said, his eyes soft. “Just remember that your health always comes first.”
“Yeah, I know.” Cam returned his smile. “It’s factoring into my thoughts.”
“It should be your only thought,” Logan muttered.
“I think we’re ready for another round,” Cam said, pushing his chair back with his iron calves and standing. He didn’t want to talk about his injuries. Not tonight. This evening was about his brothers. About spending time with the people who really knew him. “Four more beers?”
“Works for me.” Gray drained his bottle. “Cheers.”
Cam strode toward the bar, weaving around the tables. A couple of customers greeted him, and he gave his usual smile and wave. People around here were typically cool with him. He’d grown up with half of them, after all. And it was Gray who got most of the stares, particularly from his teenage fans. Cam bit down a smile as he remembered Gray’s fiancée Maddie, telling them about the time Gray was cornered in the church, unable to escape from a hoard of girls banging on the door.
“Hey,” Sam, the bar owner, gave him a half smile. “You boys okay? Nobody bothering you?”
“We’re good.” Cam smiled back, because Sam always had their backs. Apart from when they tried to sneak in for some underage drinking many years ago. Then he marched them right out of the bar and told them to come back when they were twenty-one. “Can we have four more beers please?”
“Sure.” Sam pulled out the bottles he knew they liked the best, popping the caps. As he watched, Cam remembered that Sam was Mia Devlin’s great uncle.
Interesting.
“I hear you have some new housemates,�
�� Cam said, leaning on the bar.
“Oh yeah, and I heard you had a little problem with my grand nephews.” Sam lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve got my niece and her kids staying with me for a while. Says it’s to look after me, but I’m looking after them. Her asshole husband upped and left them high and dry.”
“He walked out on his kids?” Cam asked. What an asshole.
“Yep. Disappeared and wiped out their bank account. She lost their house and business because of it, so her and the boys moved down here.” Sam grabbed a cloth and rubbed it along the bar. “Good thing he’s hiding out somewhere, because if I ever see him, he’ll get a knuckle sandwich from me.”
Cam bit down a laugh, because Sam didn’t look like he’d win a fight against a fly. But the humor dissolved when he thought about Mia being abandoned.
Not your problem, he told himself. He wasn’t anybody’s white knight. He didn’t have a horse and his armor was rusty.
Yeah, so why did you stop to help her change her tire?
The memory of her leaning over the car rushed into his head again. Soft skin, blonde hair, slender neck. Taking a mouthful of beer, he tried to push the image away.
If he thought he had problems, it sounded like Mia Devlin had more. He wasn’t going to help with them. If he got involved he’d only pile more on. He was here to think about his next move, to make some life decisions. And they didn’t involve an abandoned wife with two kids who liked throwing footballs at cars.
Sliding a couple of bills over to Sam, he told him to keep the change, then walked back to the table with the beers.
And he didn’t wonder how her job interview went, or whether she was grateful for the fact he’d gotten her tire replaced. Nope, not at all.
“Next round is whiskey,” he told his brothers as he passed them the bottles. “Somebody has to get this party started.”