by Judy Duarte
Finn could relate to his friend’s sentiment. No one from his life in Seattle would believe that Finn Samuelson, prominent investment banker about to make partner at his prestigious firm, was a huge disappointment to his own father. Finn’s decision to leave his hometown instead of remaining heir apparent to the local bank his family had owned for decades had caused a seemingly irreparable rift in his already strained relationship with his dad.
He knew Parker’s situation had been even worse. Although Jeff Johnson had been Starlight’s mayor for several terms, Parker’s dad had been cruel and abusive to his wife behind closed doors. Even after he’d died of a sudden heart attack their senior year, Parker had been as desperate to leave his childhood behind as Finn. In fact, Nick was the only one of the three to stay in Starlight.
Returning caused an itch under Finn’s skin that he couldn’t manage to scratch. Sure, a part of him missed the quiet and the beauty of the valley. Seattle was gorgeous, but between the crowded city and the frenetic pace of his job, Finn rarely found time to take a moment to appreciate it. Even the air in Starlight seemed fresher, pine-scented and tangy. Every breath brought memories of his childhood, both good and bad.
“Have you seen your dad?” Nick glanced at him over the rim of his bottle.
“I’d hoped he’d be at the funeral,” Finn admitted, shaking his head. “Hoped and dreaded in equal measure, I guess. I figured if I talked to him there and he said something to set me off, I could leave again with a clear conscience.”
Nick raised a thick brow. “No such luck?”
“He didn’t show. Back in the day I remember him making the whole family go to every funeral of a bank customer. He told us it was part of his role in the community.”
Parker let out a humorless laugh. “If I had a nickel for all the times my dad force-marched us out to solidify his loving family-man mayor routine, I’d be rich.”
“You’re already rich,” Finn reminded his friend.
“The divorce business has been good to me,” Parker conceded. “I like making people happy.”
“You’re delusional.” Nick laughed. “Divorce doesn’t make people happy.”
“It does if those people are miserable in their marriages.”
“Speaking of...” Finn placed his empty beer bottle on the patio, leaning back in the Adirondack chair where he sat. Nick had bought this house from his grandparents a few years ago and it backed up to one of the local fishing lakes. Water lapped rhythmically against the rocky shoreline at the bottom of the hill.
“Don’t tell us you’re getting married,” Nick interrupted.
Finn laughed when both his friends shot him equally horrified glances. “No,” he assured them. “Although it’s expected at the firm. Marry a socially appropriate wife, have a couple of adorable kids and join the country club.”
Nick made a gagging sound in the back of his throat. “That sounds like the life my parents wanted for me. I still think they believe law enforcement is a passing fancy.”
“You just need to explain that you’ve got a thing for handcuffs,” Finn said, earning a one-finger salute from Nick. “Marriage might not be your choice but once I make partner, it’s part of the deal. Which is why I want to talk about the pact.”
Parker let out a low whistle and picked up the bottle of whiskey that sat next to his chair. “I need something stronger than craft beer for this conversation.”
“It’s not complicated,” Finn said as his friend poured the liquor and passed a shot glass to each of them. “Have you fallen in love?”
“Of course not,” Parker scoffed.
“You?” Finn transferred his gaze to Nick.
“We know Tricky Nicky hasn’t given away his heart,” Parker answered before Nick had a chance to speak. “He’s still hung up on Brynn.”
“I’m not hung up on her,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “We never even dated.”
“Yeah,” Parker agreed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Thanks to the fact that you set her up with Daniel. If you hadn’t been too busy working your way through the cheerleading squad—”
“That’s not what I was doing.” Nick pushed out of the chair, fists clenched tight as he took a step around the firepit toward Parker. “Brynn and I were friends. Nothing more, then or now.”
Parker looked like he wanted to argue but Finn reached out and swatted his arm. “Give it a rest. She buried her husband today. Nothing’s going to change right now.”
“Or ever,” Nick added, a razor-sharp edge to his voice.
“Fine,” Parker agreed after a moment. “Sorry for bringing up a sensitive subject. I’ve been in the courtroom too long. It’s second nature to push people’s buttons.”
“Apology accepted.” Nick flexed his hands, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Just leave my buttons alone.” He turned toward Finn. “I haven’t fallen in love or even come close, although I think that has less to do with our pact and more to do with the fact that I’m happy not being tied down to one woman.”
Parker leaned forward in his chair. “I spend most of my life seeing the worst about falling in love. There’s no way in hell I’m getting tangled up like that.”
“But the pact doesn’t rule out marriage, right?” Finn asked quietly.
“You’re a grown man,” Nick pointed out. “Some stupid, drunken promise we made after high school shouldn’t stop you from falling in love if that’s what floats your boat.”
“I’m not talking about love,” Finn clarified. “I’m expected to get married. While it would be great if the woman I choose is a decent human being, I’m not planning on going all romance hero at this point.”
“I like it,” Parker said with a nod. “Very eighteenth century of you. It’s like a business contract. That could actually work a hell of a lot better than leading with your heart.”
“Exactly.” Finn waited for relief to fill him that someone else understood his plan. It had been a night much like this one when the three of them had made their pact. After making the rounds of graduation parties, they’d gone out to one of the Forest Service campgrounds with a bottle of cheap whiskey. They’d survived high school, but not without their individual scars.
Finn had just revealed to his father that he wanted no part of the family business. His dad had reacted with angry threats and a convincing promise that Finn’s mom would have been sorely disappointed in her only son if she’d lived to see him break his father’s heart. Finn’s own chest had ached at the knowledge that his father wanted nothing to do with him if he wasn’t contributing to the bank’s bottom line.
As committed to leaving Starlight as Finn, Parker had been struggling with guilt over the death of his dad. Guilt because a big part of him was relieved to finally have his family free of the emotional abuse they’d endured for years. But Finn knew his friend also harbored a secret fear that he’d inherited not only his late father’s eye color but also his temper and the darkness that had seeped from his soul. Finn didn’t believe it for a minute, but Parker wouldn’t be convinced otherwise.
Nick’s heartbreak had been the most straightforward. He’d pushed the girl who’d had a crush on him for years into the arms of another guy, only to realize the depth of his feelings for her once she was gone. But Brynn was pregnant and she and Daniel had just announced their engagement, cutting off any future Nick might have had with her.
They’d been a pathetic trio, committed to never suffering from disappointment, rejection or heartbreak again. Parker had been the one to suggest the pact against falling in love. He was convinced that if they eliminated that sort of deep emotion, they’d stay safe from future pain.
At the time, it had seemed like a joke to Finn, but he’d played along. Through the years, the drunken promise had become an excuse he’d used whenever a girlfriend got too close or wanted more than he was willing to give. No falling in lo
ve. Easy enough, and if he kept that oath clear in his mind, maybe he could do what was expected by his boss and still keep his heart out of the mix.
“I wouldn’t bother with marriage in the first place,” Nick announced into the silence. “But at least you’ve got Parker’s number when things don’t work out.”
“You never know how things are going to work out,” Finn answered, dread pooling in his gut at the thought of facing his father.
Even in the dim light cast by the fire, he could see the pain that shadowed Nick’s gaze.
“To the unknown,” Parker said, raising his glass.
Finn lifted his in response, then downed the amber liquid, hissing softly as the whiskey burned his throat. “To the unknown.”
* * *
Kaitlin Carmody reached for her coffee mug, sighing when she found it empty. She had a strict personal rule about limiting her caffeine intake to one cup a day, although she could use another jolt of energy. She’d already been at her desk three hours, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning.
Her ex-boyfriend would have snickered at her attempt at restraint. When she and Robbie had been together, excess had been the word best used to describe their bond. Alcohol, drugs, sex... Often all three at the same time. That had been rock bottom, and Kaitlin was proud of how far she’d come. How much she’d abandoned—basically everything—to start over in Starlight.
Two years ago, she’d been working as a barista in one of Seattle’s ubiquitous coffee shops when a customer had left behind a Washington State map. While refolding the slick paper, her gaze had snagged on a dot east of the city, the name Starlight printed next to it.
Something tiny and almost unrecognizable had begun to unfurl inside her as she traced her fingers over the shiny letters. Kaitlin didn’t have much experience with hope, but she recognized it just the same. That night, she’d loaded her meager belongings into a backpack and the next morning set off out of the city and toward her new beginning, leaving a note for Robbie not to look for her.
“Earth to the woman in the gray dress.”
She glanced up as the deep voice invaded her meandering thoughts. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the imposing man frowning down at her. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes and broad shoulders that looked almost out of place contained in the expensive suit he wore.
“Sorry,” she said automatically, then inwardly cringed. Jack had told her she needed to stop saying sorry for everything, that it showed a weakness and self-doubt she shouldn’t let people see. But apologies still rolled off her tongue like a snowball down an alpine ski slope. “I was daydreaming,” she continued with a half smile, as if that wasn’t totally obvious. As if she owed this tense stranger an explanation.
“Right,” he agreed. “You get what you pay for.”
Ouch. So much for the pleasantries of casual conversation. Kaitlin straightened her shoulders. “Can I help you?”
“Is he in?” The man inclined his head toward Jack’s office.
“Do you have an appointment?”
One side of the stranger’s full mouth curved up. “Not exactly.”
“Mr. Samuelson has a busy calendar,” she lied. Despite her resolve to be different than she used to be, lying still came naturally to Kaitlin. A fact that had worked in her favor the past six months. “If you leave your name and number, I can get you added to his schedule.”
“He’ll see me now,” the man insisted, his gaze locked on the closed oak door.
Kaitlin might be good at apologies, but she was even better at standing her ground when the situation called for it. This situation called for it.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She stood, moving quickly to block the man’s progress.
He blinked, as if he’d never had anyone deny him a request before. She could well imagine that no woman had ever denied him.
One smoldering glance from those blue eyes framed by heavy brows and model-sharp cheekbones and most of the women she knew would melt in a puddle at his feet.
Good thing Kaitlin wasn’t much of a melter any longer.
“Are you going to step aside?” he asked, one dark brow arching. “Or shall I move you?”
“I’m going with door number three,” she told him with her phoniest smile. “Leave your name and number. I’ll put you on Mr. Samuelson’s schedule.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see that one of the personal bankers, Missy, had come out of her office and was waving at Kaitlin as if to warn her of something.
Kaitlin didn’t melt and she refused to back down. Not after everything Jack Samuelson had done for her. No one in the office might understand why the bank’s owner needed her protection, but it didn’t change the fact that he did.
The stranger took a step toward her. “I’m seeing him now.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You lay a hand on me, and I’ll call the police so fast it will make your smug head spin.”
“I have Nick Dunlap’s cell number,” he said evenly. “Would you like me to dial?”
Why would this guy know Starlight’s police chief so well? She studied him for a moment longer, then stifled a gasp. Those bright blue eyes and thick brows... She knew another man who had them.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Finn Samuelson,” he answered. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see my dad.”
Jack’s estranged son was back. Heart hammering in her chest, Kaitlin automatically took a step away and watched Jack’s estranged son walk past her and enter his father’s office. The door closed behind him with a decisive click.
Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Major
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Magnolia Sisters by Michelle Major.
The Magnolia Sisters
by Michelle Major
CHAPTER ONE
HOW DID ANY sane person survive the South’s oppressive humidity?
As Avery Keller surveyed the landscape surrounding the gas station just outside Magnolia, North Carolina, she tried to draw in a deep breath. It felt like sucking air from a hot oven. Thick forest bordered the concrete parking lot, the trees more the pine variety than the town’s namesake. She glanced up at the water tower looming in the distance, the word Magnolia emblazoned on it in thick block letters. The bold designation mocked her, a lofty reminder that her past had been here waiting, even if she’d known nothing of it until a few days prior.
Almost a week now. One late-August week to process that the story of her life had been a lie because the truth was too callous, even for her aloof and ambitious mother. Avery had struggled with her identity as the daughter of a single mom, whose reckless decision had left her pregnant from a one-night stand with a nameless, random hookup.
Or not so random after all. As it turned out, Avery’s father knew about her, at least enough to leave her an inheritance after he died.
Maybe the humidity wasn’t to blame for the prickly heat crawling under her skin. More likely the bitterness that had festered like an open sore on her cross-country trek for the reading of the will. She would have preferred to ignore the summons, to remain unaffected by the news that she wasn’t the fatherless, unwanted girl she’d thought herself to be.
Fatherless, no. Unwanted, most definitely.
She shoved the gas pump nozzle into the tank of her Lexus sedan and stalked toward the convenience store, needing caffeine and chocolate in equal measure.
The stale air inside the shop carried the scent of hot dogs and processed nacho cheese, but it was blessedly cool. She reached for a water but changed her mind at the last moment and pulled a Diet Mountain Dew from the commercial refrigerator at the back of the store, immediately shoving the bottle under her shirt. She gasped at the bite of cold plastic against her skin.
“Normally people drink that stuff,” a deep voice said from a few feet away. “Although, the color’s too remini
scent of antifreeze for my taste.”
She rolled her head to glare at whoever was offering an unwanted opinion and stifled another gasp. Over six feet of gorgeous man stared back at her. As if the thick brown hair, piercing green eyes and rock-hard body weren’t enough, he was wearing the crisp blue uniform of a firefighter. Avery had always been a sucker for a man in uniform, although she wasn’t about to admit that now.
Apparently she didn’t need to because one side of his sexy mouth pulled up, like his effect on the fairer sex was a given. No doubt, which only fueled Avery’s irritation. She’d spent the past two and a half days on the road, steaming asphalt and satellite radio her only companions. She’d given up the guise of healthy choices midway across Missouri, and she wasn’t in the mood to take crap from anyone.
She made a show of studying the slim container of beef jerky dangling between his fingers. “Those who live in meat-stick houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
His half smile widened into a full grin. “Now, darlin’,” he drawled, “I don’t even know your name. Seems a bit premature for you to be discussing my meat stick.”
She felt her cheeks flame at the blatant innuendo but managed only a lame “in your dreams” as a response.
He chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t get out much anymore.”
“Shocker,” she muttered before heading for the cash register. She added a pack of M&M’s—the peanut variety for protein—and paid the gum-smacking attendant. Halfway to her car, Mr. Beef Jerky caught up with her.
“I really am sorry for the lousy joke,” he said, matching his stride to hers. His voice was gravelly, the vowels drawn out in typical Southern fashion, and she fought the immediate prick of attraction skittering along her skin at the unnecessary apology for some silly teasing.
The unsolicited bit of kindness didn’t make him a decent guy and shouldn’t matter either way. She was here to discover why the father she never knew had reached out to her now when he’d never bothered to during his life. And collect her inheritance and put this tiny dot on the map in her rearview mirror.