Even if she’d been home more, Finn and Drew would’ve found trouble anyhow. It was in their blood. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. They could’ve followed every ridiculous law in Havenbrook, could’ve played along with the do-gooders of the town, and it still would’ve done fuck-all to change the minds of many of the residents of Havenbrook. The Thomases, along with their friends, had been branded wrong simply because they couldn’t afford a lot of their own or a house with a foundation instead of a single wide trailer.
Which was why opening up this business with their own money, no help at all from the Bank of Havenbrook, felt so damn good.
“I already called Sammy and let him know what was goin’ on. Right now, the plan is to stay for a couple weeks,” he said, hating how the words lit a fire in his gut, burning all the way up to his chest. He couldn’t imagine leaving so soon. Not now…not after having Willow under his hands again. Not since having her taste on his tongue after ten long years without it.
“Mmm…plans change,” his momma said.
They did. Situations changed…people changed. He could only hope he could get Willow to see that.
After a few more minutes of conversation and a promise to call tomorrow, Finn hung up and dropped his head back on the couch as he scrubbed a hand down his face.
“You wanna tell me why you came in practically whistling before talkin’ to Momma?” Drew asked.
“Not really.”
“Sounds like I’m shit outta luck, then. I’ll never be able to crack the unbreakable code that is Griffin Thomas,” Drew said, his voice ringing with sarcasm.
Finn rolled his eyes, standing to grab himself a beer. “If you already know, why’d you ask?”
Drew didn’t say anything. Not until Finn sat back on the couch, beer in his hand. “You start somethin’ with her?”
Finn thought back to the kiss, to her hips under his fingers, the lush curves of her pressed up against every inch of him. Lord had he wanted to. He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Well, somethin’ happened.”
“You didn’t ask if somethin’ happened. You asked if I started somethin’ with her. And I haven’t.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” Finn confirmed with a nod.
Drew just stared at him before shaking his head. “She’s got you all kinds of fucked up, you know that, right?”
He did, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He’d walked away from her once, and it’d been the single greatest mistake of his entire life. He’d be damned if he made the same one again, if he walked away without giving this thing between them a chance to actually become something. Not now that he was older, wiser… Now that he wouldn’t allow her asshole of a father to stand between them as he had back then.
“Nothin’ I can do about that,” he said.
“So, what’s your plan? We stayin’ here indefinitely, or what?”
Drew had exactly as many ties to California as Finn did. Namely, zero. As long as they got their momma back to Havenbrook, they’d be fine. And whether or not Drew agreed with what Finn was doing where Willow was concerned, he’d stand behind his brother, have his back every step of the way. Where Finn went, Drew followed, and vice versa.
Knowing that made it easier to move forward, since Finn didn’t know what the hell was coming. If he’d be in Havenbrook or California…New York or Nashville. Right now, he had one goal, and that was to get in the good graces of one Willow Haven.
“My plan is to find out if I can make her see me as more than just the asshole who left. Everything else will come after.”
Drew snorted, shaking his head. “Man, you’re a damn idiot. That girl does nothin’ but spit fire when you’re around.”
“She wasn’t spittin’ fire when she let me kiss her tonight.”
Raising an eyebrow, Drew said, “Maybe not. Doesn’t mean you don’t have a shit-ton of work ahead of you.”
Didn’t he know it. But that was all right. Finn hadn’t fought hard enough for her in the first place. Hadn’t stuck it out when he was pressed between a rock and a hard place. So if that meant he had to work harder now, so be it. Willow deserved every bit of sweat on his part, and he was trying hard to be worthy of her.
9
A couple days after the kiss that’d rocked Willow’s world, she was still doing her best to forget about it. Okay, she was doing her best to try to forget. So far, it wasn’t going well. Or at all, really. She’d done little but think about what it’d felt like to have Finn’s lips on hers again, to have every inch of his body pressed against hers, all that heat directed solely at her.
There was no denying it anymore. Over the years, she hadn’t inflated their chemistry in her mind. It was there, and it was real, and it was every bit as potent as it’d been when they’d been only teenagers. Maybe even more so. Which meant she was well and truly screwed.
“Will.” Rory stood in the paint section of the local hardware store, holding up two white samples. “Which one do you like better?”
Normally, Willow could debate paint colors with the best of them, but she could barely focus on her own name let alone the varying shades of dove and moonlight. “Um…that one.” She pointed to the one in Rory’s left hand.
Rory scrunched her nose, her lips pursing as she considered it. “You don’t think it’s too yellow?”
“What room is this goin’ in again?”
Rory narrowed her eyes. “Have you been listening to anythin’ I’ve been sayin’?”
Well, actually…no. No, she hadn’t been. As if Willow didn’t have enough to think about after that kiss with Finn, she also had to contend with the fact that her daddy was coming home from his conference at the end of the week. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed it, but as far as she knew, he was none the wiser about the new Havenbrook residents. And if he’d gotten wind of it, she had no doubt he would’ve called her immediately, demanding answers. Since she hadn’t received any five a.m. wake-up calls, she figured all was good. Which was nice in the present, but it only postponed the inevitable blowup when he came back and found out what had been happening in his precious Havenbrook during his absence.
“Sorry, Rory. Tell me again?”
With a huff and an eye roll, Rory held out the white and white paint samples in front of Willow’s face. “I’m repaintin’ the study.”
“Didn’t you just do that a couple months ago?”
Rory lifted a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Yes, I did. But I don’t like it. It’s too dark for the space, closes it in. I want to go light this time, with pops of color in the accent pieces instead. I’m thinkin’ crimson and teal.” She waved the paint sample Willow had picked in her face. “So, do you think this one is too yellow for that?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised at Rory’s whim when it came to redecorating her house. Sean, Rory’s husband, worked as an attorney at his daddy’s firm, which meant long hours for him and even longer hours for Rory at home taking care of their two daughters all by herself. Willow didn’t know the ins and outs of their marriage—Rory wasn’t one to discuss that kind of thing, so Willow didn’t push—but it seemed to her Sean didn’t put up a fuss at the constant changes Rory made because she didn’t put up a fuss when he had to work late for the sixth night in a row.
“No, I don’t think it’s too yellow,” Willow said, though she still hadn’t more than glanced at the samples.
“Hmm…” Rory turned around, moving to the different light sources the hardware store offered to see the variances in color. “I’m just not sure.”
Willow plucked a deep blue sample from the display. The shade would be perfect if she painted an ocean scene at sunset. “So Sean’s workin’ late again?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“He seems to be doin’ that a lot lately. He workin’ on a new case?”
“You know his daddy trusts him the most, Will. Doesn’t like any of the other attorneys to help him with his cases, which means long hours for Sean.” Rory
’s response came out sharper than usual, an undercurrent in her tone that had Willow glancing up. But before Willow could question her on it, Rory’s smile was back in place.
“Did you hear about what happened to Brenda Nokes?” Rory asked, her eyebrows raised.
“Can’t say I have.” Willow replaced the blue sample and grabbed something in a light orange—perfect for the glow of the sun.
“It’s a shame, just a shame. She caught Bill with Susanna Jenkins! Can you believe that? Poor thing, her husband and her best friend.” Rory tutted, shaking her head. “According to Edna, she’s not leavin’ him either. They’re gonna try to work it out.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“Good?” Rory laughed humorlessly. “I wouldn’t say there’s anything good about the situation. Can you imagine havin’ to decide between divorcing or sticking it out with a man who wants someone else? Bless her heart, I just feel so bad for her.”
Despite being a gossipmonger, Rory’s sympathy was genuine. Without letting Willow get a word in, she continued, “At least they don’t need to worry about people talkin’ for long. All the commotion around it’ll die down in a bit. Honestly, all anyone can talk about is the Thomas boys anyway.” She looked at Willow over her shoulder. “Did you get my voice mail about them moving in to that little apartment over their building? No one’s been able to figure out if it’s permanent or temporary. But heavens, can you imagine the Thomas boys living here again?”
Rory laughed, shaking her head as if the idea were preposterous. As if Willow hadn’t been imagining that very thing since she’d been swept off her feet by a kiss that definitely shouldn’t have happened. “I haven’t had a chance to swing by yet, but I’m plannin’ to. Just to check in on them, of course. See how they’re doin’ and welcome them back into town. Maybe bring ’em some muffins.”
Uh-huh. A welcome that came with a side of spying and information mining. Willow saw right through Rory’s bullshit story, but she didn’t call her on it. What was the use? Besides, if Rory’s attention was snagged on something else, maybe she’d stay off Willow’s case for more than a day.
“Before I can do that, though, I need to figure out which of these I like better…” Rory continued comparing the stark-white and slightly less stark samples, so Willow slipped over to the unoccupied paint counter, leaned against it, and prepared for a long night. The last time she’d agreed to come with Rory, they’d spent three hours in this damn store, most of which had been spent looking at door hooks. Door hooks. Only Rory would put that much effort into perfection.
After that unforgettable experience, Willow had sworn to herself she’d never come again. And then tonight had happened. She and Mac were supposed to watch their nieces while Rory and Sean went out to dinner. Instead, he’d had to work late, which meant Rory was slated for a night of seclusion. But when she’d dropped the girls off, she’d looked a bit frustrated at her husband’s disappearing act—a crack in a perfect facade. It was so unlike Rory, Willow had taken pity on her and asked if she could come with.
And now she was bored out of her ever-loving mind, debating the merits of painting a room dove or moonlight. That was what she got for trying to be the nice one. Mac had only waved with glee as Willow and Rory had left. Never mind the fact that she was on the hook as solo caretaker for their seven- and nine-year-old nieces. Apparently, that was far superior to being stuck with their eldest sister for any amount of time.
Rory was mumbling about cyan versus cerulean throw pillows and which would look better with moonlight when a laugh drew Willow’s attention down the aisle toward a small display of lighting fixtures. Two people stood below an array of ceiling fans, and it took Willow only half a second to realize it was Finn and Nola. The same time the realization hit her, an invisible fist clenched around her stomach and squeezed.
She hadn’t seen him since their kiss—had done all she could to avoid him, to be honest. If any of them had needed help with something at the building or had questions about a regulation, she’d had Avery run interference. Maybe not her most professional move, but she hadn’t been able to face him just yet. Not when the kiss still had her all jumbled up inside.
Rory’s nonstop stream of conversation faded into the background while Willow watched Finn and Nola laugh, Finn’s head tossed back and a huge smile on his face. And, yeah, she could say the fist squeezing harder around her insides was just the shock at seeing him when it wasn’t part of her plan. But she’d done an awful lot of lying to herself since he’d come back to town, and she was tired of it.
As much as she’d tried to avoid it, as much as she’d done whatever she could to believe something else, there was no getting around it. She was attracted to Finn. Desperately. Her mouth tingled as she remembered how he’d pressed her up against the wall, had slipped his tongue between her lips and feasted on her like she was the best thing he’d tasted in years. And now? Seeing him laughing and so comfortable with another girl kicked her straight in the heart, jealousy seeping out of her pores. Which didn’t make any sense. She’d never been jealous a day in her life, so why the hell would it start now when she wasn’t even with Finn?
“All right, I think I decided on moonlight,” Rory said, stepping up next to Willow. “What’s got your attention?”
Before Willow could straighten and look in the opposite direction of where Finn and Nola stood, her sister turned and glanced down the aisle. Rory’s eyes narrowed when she saw who stood there, and she hummed low in her throat. Her gaze was calculating, which meant Willow had about three seconds to get her sister out of the store before Rory did something that would no doubt humiliate her.
“Are you about ready?” Willow asked, keeping her voice quiet as she pushed away from the counter.
“Not quite.” Rory grabbed Willow’s hand and dragged her down the aisle, closer to Finn and Nola. “Need to get some new paintbrushes too. What do you think of these, Will?” she asked, far louder than she needed to.
At the sound of Willow’s name, Finn’s head snapped up, his laughter cutting off. He looked in their direction, a slow smile spreading across his lips when he caught sight of her. Lord, why did that make her stomach flip?
And, damn, now he was coming toward them, Nola at his side, and the single tumble of Willow’s stomach turned into a series of somersaults with no end in sight.
“Rory,” Finn said with a nod. “Good to see you. How’re things?”
Finn might’ve asked the question of Rory, but his eyes strayed almost immediately to Willow. And then he did a slow sweep of her from head to toe while Rory went on about everything amazing that was going on in her life—two kids on the honor roll, heading up the PTA, the multitude of fundraisers she’d done for Havenbrook residents in need, her husband being promoted to partner in the firm. It all blurred into background noise as Willow’s body heated up simply from Finn’s gaze. The way he allowed his eyes to trace over every curve of her was as good as a caress on her naked body. Everything tightened, her nipples going stiff and the warmth in her lower belly spreading until it was all she could focus on.
“But enough about me,” Rory said, placing a hand on his forearm. “I heard y’all bought the old soda fountain. Gettin’ it all fixed up?”
Finn finally dragged his eyes away from Willow and glanced at her sister. “We’re tryin’. Between the three of us, we’ll be lucky if it doesn’t look like a flea market in there, though.”
“Oh? What’re y’all thinkin’?”
Nola shrugged. “We’re still a little fuzzy on the details. We just know we don’t want a typical honky-tonk vibe. Maybe something with an industrial flair instead?” She pulled out her phone and turned it to face Rory and Willow, showcasing a few pictures she had stored. “We were thinkin’ something like this.”
“Together?” Rory asked, her voice laced with horror. “Oh no, honey. No.” Rory shook her head as she plucked the phone from Nola’s fingers and swiped through the images. “Now I know this is y’all’s b
aby, but I just wouldn’t be a good neighbor if I didn’t offer a few suggestions, now would I?” Rory’s eyes were alight with excitement, no doubt over telling someone—anyone—what to do. She grabbed Nola’s wrist and led her down the aisle back toward the lighting. “What I’d suggest is—”
Willow stopped listening then, because Finn stepped closer to her, choosing to stay with her rather than listen to Rory give a play-by-play of what they needed in the bar. He leaned a shoulder against the shelves at her back, curving his body toward her and bringing him far closer than was a good idea.
“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he said.
She slid him a look out of the corner of her eye, trying not to be affected by the warmth swirling in his gaze. Trying and failing. “If you’re not careful, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re following me.”
He smiled then, the sight nearly knocking Willow on her ass. “If I were following you, we’d run into each other a helluva lot more than we have been.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Why did that tiny, innocent touch have her body lighting up? “I guess I’ve just been lucky these past few days.”
Willow swallowed, attempting to maintain the facade of calm, when inside, she felt like she was on fire. “Is that what you’d call it?”
Once again, he let his eyes drop to take in every inch of her. And those eyes? They heated until there was no doubt in her mind he was mentally undressing her, imagining what every inch of her would look like bare. “Yeah, Willowtree,” he said, his voice deep and rough, just a whisper in the space between them. “I call it damn lucky.”
She swallowed. Tried to get her breathing under control. Failed miserably. “Quit lookin’ at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asked with a smile.
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