“Good, you?” Mac answered automatically. Lilah definitely wasn’t the person to discuss all these confusing emotions fluttering around inside her with. Not when they centered on Lilah’s brother.
“Not too bad. You meet Caleb yet?” She hooked a thumb in his direction as he sat down on her right, his arm going around the top of her high backed bar stool, his body bracketing hers. “He tagged along home with Hudson.”
“I haven’t.” Mac smiled to the newcomer and held out a hand toward him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mac.”
“You’ll know her as Kenna,” Lilah cut in, “because my brother can’t be easy about anything.”
Caleb enveloped her hand in his, his eyes scrutinizing. After a long moment, he said, “So, you’re Kenna.”
He said it with such familiarity, her stomach fluttered. Familiarity from this man she’d never met before could only mean one thing—Hudson talked about her. A lot. But instead of focusing on it, she tucked it away, along with everything else today, and saved it for later.
She plastered on the smile that got her a buttload of tips, fake as it was sometimes. “Only to Hudson. I’m Mac to everyone else. Figured you’d have seen me earlier today. You didn’t catch the show?”
He shook his head. “Thought I’d give you guys some privacy.”
Mac snorted. “When you live in Havenbrook, you don’t get privacy.”
“Speaking of,” Will interjected, leaning forward and thrusting her hand out to Caleb. “I’m Willow Haven, Mac’s sister.”
Caleb took her hand and dipped his head. “Willow.”
No familiarity there, no automatic shortening of her name. Which meant Hudson didn’t talk about Havenbrook in the general sense. Just her.
But she wasn’t thinking about that right now.
“You can ignore her,” Mac said. “It’s how I’ve spent the past hour.”
“Lord, you’re such a damn grouch tonight,” Will said.
“Just to you, sister dearest.” Mac batted her eyelashes at Will before tossing coasters down in front of Lilah and Caleb. “Y’all need dinner menus too, or you just in for drinks?”
“Menus, please,” Lilah said.
Mac plucked them from beneath the bar. “What can I get y’all to drink?”
Lilah pointed to the chalkboard by the register proclaiming Campfire Crush as their featured beverage. “I’ll have the drink of the week, please.”
“You got it. How about you, Caleb?”
“Got any local IPAs on tap?”
“Sure do. Gimme a sec.” With a pat to the bar top, Mac turned and fell into the familiar movements, mixing and pouring as she ran a scrutinizing eye over the rest of the customers parked up to the bar, making note of who needed refills.
Once she’d placed Caleb’s and Lilah’s drinks in front of them, she made a circle at the bar, refilling drinks for a couple patrons before grabbing a bill to settle it.
She strode toward the cash register, near where her pain-in-the-ass sister sat, chatting with Lilah and Caleb. Or mostly Lilah. Caleb seemed to do a whole lot of watching and listening, especially where Lilah was concerned.
With her back to them as she focused on the POS machine, Mac asked, “So, where’s Hudson tonight?” And then immediately kicked herself. She didn’t care. Didn’t care at—
“Miss me, Kenna?” At the sound of his deep voice, her entire body erupted in goose bumps, and she snapped her head toward him.
He slid onto the stool between Lilah and Will, propped his elbows on the bar top, and leaned toward her. “You know, you could’ve saved my ego a whole lot of bruisin’ if you’d told me your plans tonight meant you were workin’. I spent the past two hours—” He abruptly cut himself off, shaking his head and glancing down.
Spent the past two hours…what? Trying to figure out how he was going to walk in and see her wasting her life away behind a bar? How he’d hide his disappointment at all she hadn’t accomplished in her life? At all she’d thrown away after he’d left?
Except…she hadn’t told him she was working there. Hadn’t told him about any of her random jobs over the years to save herself from hearing the long-distance disappointment in his response.
She furrowed her brow, cocking her head to the side. “You knew I worked here?”
He hummed in affirmation. “I hear you’re as much a draw as the atmosphere, booze, and burgers. Can’t talk to Momma without her mentioning whatever cocktail of the week you’ve thought up and how delicious they always are.”
How lovely. He was out dodging bullets and IEDs, and Marianne was jabbering to him about how Mac tossed a few ingredients together and came up with a catchy name so they could charge a buck more for the drinks. Definitely in the same realm. She shot Will a pointed look, which her sister studiously ignored.
“That’s…well…” Mac cleared her throat and tossed a coaster in front of him before grabbing a menu and handing it over. She wasn’t sure there was anything more humiliating than waiting on your ex-…something, who just so happened to be a real-life superhero, but if there was, she hadn’t yet lived it. “What can I get ya?”
“You know what I like.” The way he said it, all low and rough, brought her back to a night years ago when he’d used that same voice while he’d been inside her. Eyes locked with hers, hips rocking together, breath comingling between them…
Her breathing quickened, her eyes never straying from his, and it felt like they were the only two people in the room.
At least until her sister squeaked and then tried to cover it up with a loud cough. Then Lilah said, “Ew…is that your sex voice? For the love, Hud, don’t do that around me.”
That, of course, caused everyone else to break into laughter. Everyone except Mac.
She pressed her lips together in a bland smile, strangling her libido through sheer force of will. “Not sure I know what you like anymore.”
The thing with having spent a lifetime as best friends before Hudson had left meant he could read her, even after all this time. He stared at her for a long, tense moment, his eyes darting between hers, head cocked to the side. Studying. Assessing.
And God, she didn’t want him to read her. Didn’t want him to see how torn up she was about, well, everything. Her life, her lack of accomplishments. Hell, her lack of ambition. Her dismal love life and the fact that she still ached—physically ached—for his touch. Worst of all, she didn’t want him to see how badly his leaving still hurt her. How deeply the wound had cut.
And apparently, all that was written on her face because he didn’t press. Instead, with a tip of his head toward Caleb, Hudson said, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
She nodded and turned away, still able to feel his eyes on her as she filled a mug with the beer, but she didn’t dare meet his gaze. Instead, once she dropped off his glass, she did another round, occupying herself by getting refills, clearing plates, and wiping down the bar top after a few people had cleared out.
She needed to make her way back to where the four of them sat to take their orders, but she didn’t really want to. And by the time she’d psyched herself up enough to do so, she was dragged into an argument between Atticus and Darcy, two Havenbrook residents with businesses in the Square.
“All I’m sayin’, Atticus, is to put your garbage cans where they belong and not in front of my coffee shop.”
“Your coffee shop doesn’t extend to the alley, which is exactly where the cans are.”
Darcy huffed. “But that alley is the perfect place for a couple outdoor tables, and my customers would like to enjoy their mornin’ coffee without smellin’ your nasty garbage!”
Atticus’s face had turned an obnoxious shade of red. “How about we go on over to town hall and talk to the mayor about what kind of permit you’d need for outdoor seatin’, ’cause I bet you didn’t get one.”
“Are you suggestin’ I’m not runnin’ my business on the up-and-up?” Darcy all but shouted.
“Hey now,” Mac cut in. “I’m
sure we can come to an agreement that makes everyone happy.”
“The only thing that’ll make me happy is if she quits harpin’ on me to move my garbage cans. Where else am I supposed to put ’em? That’s exactly what the alley is for!”
Darcy slammed her hand down on the bar top. “Not anymore! Didn’t you notice the potted plants and decorations back there? Or, I don’t know, the lovely wrought-iron tables and chairs?”
Atticus shrugged. “Just figured it was more trash from your place.”
Darcy’s mouth dropped open.
Before either of them could go on, Mac held up a hand. “Take it easy, y’all. Atticus, do you think maybe your clients would like to enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper while waitin’ for their furry loved ones to finish their grooming appointments with you?”
“I—” Atticus cut off and scowled. “A few customers may have mentioned something about going over there once or twice.”
“Mhmm. And Darcy, wouldn’t it be nice to bring in a steady stream of extra customers who would’ve maybe skipped it instead?”
Darcy crossed her arms. “I guess so.”
“So then wouldn’t you both agree that the shared alley could be a mutually beneficial space? Y’all can do an exchange—Darcy, you can offer his grooming clients their first cup of coffee for free if they’re waitin’ for their pets. And Atticus, you can offer five dollars off a grooming with receipt from Jitterbug.”
It took a bit more finesse and convincing, but by the time Mac walked away, Darcy and Atticus were all smiles, their heads close as they outlined their new mutual referral program.
“You’re good at that.” Hudson’s voice startled her as she walked back toward where the foursome had been sitting. Except he’d left the group and sat completely apart from them now. Will had taken up his previous spot, chatting with Lilah and Caleb, though Mac wasn’t fooled. Her sister had ears like a fucking hawk, and Mac had no doubt she was eavesdropping.
“Good at what?”
He tipped his head toward the two patrons who were now the best of friends. “Diplomacy.”
“That’s a soldier word if I’ve ever heard one. Around here, we just call it not bein’ an asshole.”
“Yeah, well. You’re good at gettin’ people not to be assholes, then.”
She lifted a single shoulder. “Sometimes.”
He stared at her, his eyes darting between hers. Dropping only once to her lips before snapping back up. She felt that drop all the way to her toes. “Come to supper with me tomorrow.”
“I can’t,” she said without hesitation, grateful she had the excuse of her shift at The Willow Tree to fall back on because she still wasn’t ready for this.
At least with the pact they’d made, she’d had time to prepare. She’d have been able to work herself up and figure out a game plan as to how it’d go when she saw him again. But this? This impromptu drop-in after a decade was too damn much for her brain—not to mention her heart—to handle.
“Plans again?”
“Yes.” She cleared empty mugs from the counter where several people had vacated. “My schedule’s done up for the next two weeks already.”
“When do you work?”
“Days vary, but I come in at four, and I’m here till midnight, usually. Sometimes later.”
“Breakfast, then. Lunch. You can’t work all day. Hell, Kenna, I’ll even take a coffee date, so long as I can spend some time with you. Let me.”
Gah—how was she supposed to say no when he was so enticing? How was she supposed to keep her head on and her heart protected when he was so damn compelling? So irresistible.
“She’s free tomorrow night!” Will called from her perch on the stool across the bar.
When Mac sent her a what the ever-loving fuck are you doing glare, Will gritted her teeth in what barely passed as a smile.
“Finn would be happy to cover so y’all can…hang out.”
Mac stared at her sister, her lips tight and hands fisted, communicating without words that she needed to knock this nonsense off right now. Will communicated right back, telling Mac all her worries amounted to a pile of shit and to get the hell out of her own way.
Except there was no way to get out of because there was no way anything was going to happen between her and Hudson. She’d already decided it, and that made it so.
“Well, sounds like it’s settled, then,” Hudson said, a smile tipping up his lips. “I get you for supper tomorrow night. And since your whole day just got freed up, how about breakfast, lunch, and coffee?”
Her stomach somersaulted at the thought of that much uninterrupted Hudson time. “Greedy, aren’t you?”
He leaned toward her, so close she had to hold her breath just so she wouldn’t breathe him in. “When it comes to you? Always.”
Hudson was more nervous than he’d been the first time Kenna had let him put his hand up her shirt. At sixteen, he’d cupped and flicked and squeezed her breasts like they were goddamn stress balls, acting like a bumbling, fumbling idiot. Which was…pretty much exactly how he felt now, banging around the kitchen, his hands and body too big for the space his five-foot-nothing mom worked in. His nerves tested more than they were when he was in his final phase of SERE school.
His mom and Lilah were both at The Sweet Spot, though his momma would be home in a few hours, since she’d opened at o’dark thirty that morning, readying everything for the pre-workday rush. He’d been home less than forty-eight hours, but it was comforting and a little scary how quickly he fell right back into the familiar rhythm the three of them had shared.
True, it was a little different now that Lilah had moved out. Once Nash King, prior tenant and current rehabber of The Sweet Spot, vacated the small apartment above the bakery, Lilah had snatched it up. Though, Hudson didn’t blame her. She was twenty-six and had never lived away from home. Hadn’t even gone off to college. She’d taken a few business classes at the community college but was otherwise content to stay in Havenbrook and make sure everything ran smoothly for their family.
Something Hudson didn’t know a damn thing about.
He tried not to feel guilty for that. Tried and failed miserably. Yes, he sent money home to help with any bills that might come up. And yes, he was funding this rehab whether his momma liked it or not, but it still didn’t feel like enough.
For so long, he hadn’t felt like enough.
All those years ago when he’d made the hardest decision of his life, he’d been torn on what to do, his head and heart in a constant battle as he’d tried to reconcile them both. Either stay enrolled in college like his momma—and Kenna—had wanted, eventually come back to Havenbrook, find a boring, nine-to-five job, and settle down… Or follow his heart—and his dad’s footsteps—and enlist in the army. Become a pilot. Live the greatest adventure of his life—away from Havenbrook and his family and the only girl who’d ever owned his heart. And sure, his family had his money, but he knew firsthand money didn’t atone for all absences.
He was exactly the selfish bastard his sister had accused him of being all those years ago when he’d first left. It was no wonder Kenna had pulled back from him. She might’ve been the one to put on the brakes, but he knew damn well it’d been him who’d shoved a continent-sized wedge between them. And he hadn’t ever forgiven himself for it.
“Knock, knock,” Kenna called through the screen door before opening it and stepping into the house.
Shit, he still wasn’t used to seeing her in person. To being able to run his eyes over every inch of her, from her beat-up Chucks, to the ratty hem of her well-worn jeans and how they molded oh-so-perfectly to every shapely curve of her legs, to the off-the-shoulder sweatshirt that absolutely shouldn’t have been sexy. Shouldn’t have been, but fuck if he wasn’t half hard imagining his lips brushing over that delicate slope and curve. It’d been so long… Would her skin still smell the same? Taste the same?
“Did the army equip you with X-ray vision or what? Quit pervin’.”
<
br /> He breathed out a laugh and dropped his head, shaking it a little. “Sadly, no X-ray vision.” Lifting his head, he tapped his temple and winked. “But memories have served me very well.”
Without waiting for her response, he strode to her in two giant steps and swept her up in a hug, squeezing her to him and breathing her in.
“This how we’re greetin’ each other now?” she asked, her words muffled, her face lost somewhere in his chest, her arms finally, reluctantly, going around his waist.
If he had his choice, he wouldn’t go a day without feeling her in his arms, so yeah. While he was home, he sure as hell was going to try to get his fill. Soak up every ounce of her so he had something to keep him company when he was back on base.
“Guess so.” He squeezed her once more before setting her back on her feet. Damn, she was a little thing, her head not even reaching his chin. He wasn’t sure if he’d grown that much since the last time he’d seen her, or if he’d just forgotten how petite she was. Or maybe it was that her personality always seemed to add a couple inches to her, so it was easy to forget her stature.
She shot him a tentative smile—that was new…there’d never been anything tentative between them—then focused on the spread of ingredients on the counter. “You do know I’m not gonna be actually bakin’ any of these, right? The bet was for you to fill my freezer. I’m just here to provide sarcastic remarks and look pretty.”
He grinned. “Well, you’ve certainly got the latter down.”
She froze, eyes darting over to him, a million questions burning in her gaze. Looked like they were traversing all kinds of firsts today. They’d had fifteen-plus years of friendship where they didn’t discuss their attraction to each other—though, after that weekend at his cabin ten years ago, he knew they’d both been feeling that and a whole lot more for who knew how long.
And then they’d had a decade of this weird limbo where they both knew there could be so much more between them, but they didn’t act on it. He’d wanted to. More than anything, he’d wanted to call her his, even while he was half a world away. Honestly, if he’d had it his way, he’d have married her right then and there in that cabin before either of them had left to go their—temporarily—separate ways.
Captain Heartbreaker (Havenbrook Book 4) Page 4