If We Fall: A What If Novel

by Nina Lane

  The mind-numbing small talk and socializing at the wedding reception will dull my senses.

  I drive my Porsche out of the gate. I’d sold my father’s house, twenty miles south of here, right after he died. I bought Cliff Haven two years later—a stupid, over-the-top testament to Invicta Spirits’ success and the fact that I’d crushed my father’s business to dust, leaving no trace of the Iron Horse Brewery or Kevin Danforth’s influence. Proving my company was now paramount.

  Not that I give a shit about Castille. I’d hated the town that revered my asshole father and failed to protect my mother.

  Josie had been the good part of Castille—the curious, energetic girl in the woods, the talented artist and bird lover, the tempting young woman I couldn’t resist. Her close, happy family had been the opposite of mine. I’d liked her artsy mother, her father who knew a million riddles and jokes, her Lego-obsessed brother, her elegant sister.

  And Josie above all, the woman who gave me the hope of a future.

  Christ. A split-second happens, and suddenly you’re living someone else’s life.

  Except that it’s yours.

  * * *

  I return to The Ivy, a Michelin-starred restaurant owned by an old friend of my father’s. I’ve never liked the place with its hardcore elegance and pretentious menu. Unfortunately, I’ve spent more time here than my father probably did.

  The main room with the picture window overlooking the water is still crowded with people dancing and eating cake. I make my way around the tables to the bride and groom. A hand closes on my arm.

  “There you are.” Evelyn Rockwell smiles at me. Blonde, killer body, expertly made-up face, she’s as perfect now in her lacy sheath dress and heels as she was at the start of the wedding ceremony. “I thought you’d left without saying goodbye.”

  “I’m leaving soon.”

  “Where were you?”

  Josie appears in my head again. Ragged army jacket and torn jeans.

  Evelyn’s perfume wafts into my nose, too floral and strong. I peel her hand off my arm.

  “Nowhere.”

  Her mouth twists. “You’ve been gone for well over two hours. I know. I was looking for you.”

  “Then stop looking.”

  “Cole.” She grabs my arm again, her eyes hardening for an instant before she smiles sweetly. “Don’t be mean. Give me one dance.”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  I yank my arm from her taloned grip and walk away. She and I fucked numerous times over the past few months before I ended it when she got clingy. While I liked her naked, I’d never had intentions of getting involved with her on any other level. She knew that. They all did, right at the start. It never stopped them from coming after me, but I’d been stripped of illusions years ago.

  Women wanted the fortune of Invicta Spirits, which was one of the top ten producers of distilled liquor in the country. I started the company after working for a hydropower corporation in New York, where I learned how I could leverage the control of water. My goal had been to crush my father’s business and to gain power over the town that had failed both me and my mother.

  The Iron Horse had been a small but popular brewery, producing a variety of craft beers. A regular crowd gathered at the pub on weekends to drink and listen to live music. My father was always in the center of it, reveling in his popularity, talking, laughing, making sure everyone was taken care of.

  Before he came home and turned into the fucking devil.

  I’ve had few greater pleasures in life than watching Kevin Danforth sign the papers selling me the Iron Horse, whose output and profits had been sliding downhill since his diagnosis.

  Say goodbye to your legacy, you old bastard.

  By then, Invicta Spirits had already surpassed some of the top liquor companies on the east coast. The Iron Horse hadn’t been my only target. I’ve pushed dozens of smaller local companies and distilleries out of business. Increased our revenue and profits tenfold. A couple more buyouts, and I’d expand even further into the south and midwest. An oil spill drowning everything in its path.

  The local residents don’t like it. They need the economic boost I’ve brought to the area, but they hate that I’m crushing independent distilleries and skirting the law. Even more, they hate the fact that I control their water supply. The interesting thing is they can’t do anything about it.

  I start toward the bride and groom again. My uncle is standing near the bar. Before I can divert around him, he catches my eye and indicates his companion—an attractive, sharp-eyed woman in her mid-fifties wearing a beaded dress.

  I bite back a groan. Allegra King and I have locked horns countless times over city ordinances and zoning laws, not to mention my purchase of the Spring Hills water well. Now she’s partly responsible for Josie returning to Castille.

  Uncle Gerald waves me over, his expression pointed. My mother’s older brother, he lived in New York for most of my childhood, then moved to Castille after joining Invicta Spirits. I hadn’t seen much of him when I was younger, but we’d reconnected when I moved to New York after the accident. He’d always been a straight shooter, a man I’ve felt I could trust.

  Steeling my spine, I approach him and Allegra. “Hello, Allegra. You look lovely.”

  She nods with disdain, but her tone is polite. “Thank you, Cole.”

  “I just ran into Josie Mays.”

  Her eyes widen. Gerald turns to stare at me.

  “Josie Mays?” he repeats, as if there’s some other Josie I might be talking about.

  “We weren’t expecting her until next week,” Allegra says.

  “We?” I clench my teeth.

  She composes herself, lifting an eyebrow. “Much as you might believe otherwise, Colton, you’re not the only person of influence in this town. When Josie told me the proposal to honor her parents had been abandoned so many years ago due to lack of financing, I knew I had to support her. Benjamin and Faith Mays were vibrant, active members of this community, and they deserve to be remembered well. Having their daughter paint a mural of Castille’s history is the way we intend to honor them. If you have a problem with that, you take it up with me. Not her.”

  “Damn straight I have a problem with that.” I make an effort to keep my voice low. “Where is this mural going to be?”

  “Lantern Square.” She sips her drink, her tone deceptively casual. “On the wall of the Botanical Gardens.”

  My chest tightens. The perimeter of the Botanical Gardens is primarily surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, but one section is composed of an old masonry wall that had been built about the same time as the garden construction. That is the only area where a mural can be painted.

  It’s also fifty feet from my office. On my property, a fact that Allegra clearly doesn’t know.

  I won’t tell her. Yet. I haven’t gotten to where I am by showing my hand too early.

  “Where is the money coming from to fund the mural?” I ask.

  “We diverted funds from the Arts Center construction since this will be a public art project. We plan to unveil the mural at the Bicentennial Festival in August.”

  “The festival Invicta Spirits is sponsoring?”

  “Not that the mural will affect our sponsorship.” Gerald gives me a warning glare. “Allegra, I’m sure you understand Cole’s objections, given everything that happened. But he won’t cause any trouble.”

  That’s what you think.

  “I would hope not.” Though her tone is light, suspicion glints in Allegra’s expression. “In fact, your uncle and I were just discussing how Invicta Spirits can become further involved in the festival. We’d like you to attend our next committee meeting.”

  I expel a hard breath. Fucking festival.

  “I’m sure my uncle will be pleased to take my place at the meeting,” I reply. “He has full autonomy regarding our company’s role and sponsorship.”

  She smiles tightly. “We’d be remiss if we didn’t include you, Cole
. As the company owner and CEO, it’s rather important that we have your input. Friday afternoon at two, City Hall. We’ll look forward to seeing you there.”

  She gives us both a swift nod of farewell and strides away.

  “Cole, you have got to play the goddamned game,” Gerald snaps, his voice low. “Castille is this close to taking Invicta to court over the water pump station you’re building at Spring Hills. The company lawyers are sweating bullets. If you don’t get onboard, you’ll be dealing with a class-action lawsuit instead of a stupid pie-eating contest.”

  I don’t care. I’d welcome a fucking lawsuit. Then I could spend every waking hour fighting it. Filling my brain with strategies and plans instead of obsessing over the woman who will be living in Watercolor Cottage for the next two months.

  I need to get rid of her.

  “I’ll be at the meeting,” I tell Gerald.

  Relief flashes over his face. I start to turn away. He grabs my arm.

  “And you cannot be talking shit about Josie Mays,” he says pointedly. “You will always take the heat for what happened, but that girl is untouchable. Her family was well-loved around here. If you act like you don’t care about her, and I know that’s a fucking lie even if no one else does, the residents of this town will forget a damned lawsuit and run you out of here with torches and pitchforks.”

  Yanking my arm away from him, I take a step back.

  “Cole, how is she?” Gerald’s voice has a sudden note of gentleness.

  My back teeth clench. How is she? She’s as brave as a warrior and as soft as a bluebird. She’s all the good parts of my life here—warm sand, fresh-cut grass, oranges, peppermint sticks. She’s fiery green eyes and skin like cream. She’s a wild, broken paint stroke.

  “Alive.” The word snaps out of me like a whip.

  Turning away from my uncle, I stride toward the front door.

  I should fire him. He’s my guilty conscience. If I get rid of him, there’d be nothing preventing me from doing whatever the hell I want with the company. There’d be no one forcing me to sponsor a small-town festival that I couldn’t give a shit about. No one who really knows how I used to feel about Josie.

  “Cole.”

  I turn to face Allegra, who is putting on her shawl. She gestures me closer.

  “You listen to me,” she says, her tone sharp. “I know this is hard for you, but I will not have you making things difficult for that girl.”

  “You mean the girl who’s going to be painting a goddamned mural fifty feet from my office?” I lift an eyebrow. “I’m surprised at you, Allegra. I thought you were the kind of woman who’d say fuck you to my face instead of engaging in passive-aggressive bullshit.”

  Irritation hardens her features. “We did not plan this as retaliation. The city council chose the garden wall as the mural site because it’s in the center of town and will have the most visibility. Also that wall has been an eyesore for years. The mural will give the entire square a much-needed beautification. Besides…”

  She tosses her shawl over her shoulder and shrugs. “If you don’t like the mural, you can always move your office out of Lantern Square.”

  Despite my anger, I experience a grudging respect toward her. She’s always proven to be a worthy adversary, and I love a good fight. She’s been wanting me—and the reminder of Invicta Spirits—out of Lantern Square for years. And under any other circumstances, I’d enjoy going head-to-head with Allegra King.

  But this time, Josie is in the middle.

  Hell. Josie started it.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell Allegra flatly.

  “Then if you don’t want to make an enemy out of everyone in this town, you need to start working with us instead of against us. I understand it’s difficult for you to have Josie Mays back in Castille, but—”

  “I’m sorry, Allegra.” I back away from her. “But you don’t understand a fucking thing.”

  I stalk back out to my car and place a call to my assistant.

  “Find out everything you can about Castille’s public art ordinances. I want every single detail on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

  I end the call and toss the phone onto the passenger seat. My blood is hot. I should go somewhere else—a bar, a club. Call an old girlfriend for a fuck.

  Instead I return home and park beside Josie’s rental car in the driveway. A light still burns in the guest bedroom.

  Does she sleep at all? Or is she so scared of the dark that she can’t even close her eyes? What is that doing to her?

  I toss my keys on the entryway table and stride upstairs. Though I have every intention of climbing the next set of stairs to the third floor, I turn toward Josie’s room again.

  The door is partway open. A triangle of light shines on the hallway carpet. Tension grips my neck. Placing my hand flat on the door, I ease it fully open. All the lights are on.

  My heartbeat kicks into gear. She’s sprawled on her stomach in the middle of the bed, her arms and legs outstretched like a starfish, her face buried in a pillow and her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Her body moves with quick shallow breaths, not like the heavy rhythm of sleep I remember when she’d snuggle up against my side and sleep until ten a.m.

  She twitches. A faint moan escapes her throat. I almost start forward…to do what, I don’t know. Touch her? Comfort her? I want to do both. I curl my fingers into my palms.

  She turns her head on the pillow. Her hair flops to the other side. Her eyes are closed, her skin flushed.

  I track my gaze over her body. Her cotton pajama pants hug her perfect dumpling ass, and her T-shirt is pulled up enough to expose the smooth bare skin of her lower back.

  Goddamn.

  My dick hardens. I’m a fucking pervert creeping in on her like this, but I can’t stop staring at her. The warm hollow where her spine curves was my favorite place on her. I’d loved rubbing her back and pressing kisses along the ridge of her spine. In public, I’d put my hand on her lower back to remind both her and any other guy who might be watching that she was mine.

  That smooth expanse of skin was one favorite out of a thousand. There was no part of Josie that wasn’t my favorite. Every time I touched her, it felt like I was discovering something new.

  She shifts again, rubbing her cheek on the pillow. I want to get on the bed beside her and ease her pajama pants over her ass. Reach between her soft thighs and press my forefinger into her pussy, working her to arousal. Then I’d pull her onto her hands and knees, open her right up, and slide my dick into all her tight heat.

  Lust fills my chest. I feel her, slick and hot, her inner flesh clutching my shaft. I hear her moans, that little gasping “Oh, Cole” that always caught in the back of her throat.

  Everything—her soft flesh yielding to my grip, her back arching, her ass bouncing against my stomach. She was a firecracker—a slow, hot burn; a sharp explosion, a wild sparkler.

  She was mine.

  Josie opens her eyes. Our gazes collide. A charge fires between us, swift and potent.

  I fist my hands. My dick is still hard, pulsing against my thigh.

  “What are you doing here?” Her sleep-thick voice, serrated at the edges, pours into my veins and vibrates against my skin. I’d give anything to hear her whisper my name in that voice again.

  “Nothing.” I step toward the door. “Just got back.”

  She pushes to one elbow and shoves her hair away from her face. Her gaze slides over me and stops on the heaviness in my trousers. She blinks, like she’s not sure what she’s seeing.

  Then a pink flush rises to her cheeks, and her lips part so temptingly it’s all I can do not to grab her and haul her against me. Crush her mouth with mine. Eat her up.

  Guilt slices through me. I turn to the door. “Go back to sleep, Josie.”

  As if it’s easy for her.

  I leave, shutting the door behind me. My breath burns my chest. I stride back to my room and yank open the balcony doors. The sea air washes over my ho
t skin. I lean my arms on the railing and lower my head.

  My lust for her, even more powerful after ten years apart, is just one reason I can’t have her in town. There are a thousand more.

  I can’t stand the thought of her being confronted by reminders of the accident. What if she hears the rumors again or discovers all the shit that went down after she left? What will that do to her? She’ll be caught in a fucking avalanche of new phobias, maybe worse than what she already has.

  I won’t let that happen. I failed her once. I won’t do it again. This time, I will protect her.

  And the only way to protect her is to force her to leave. If that means making her hate me, good. I’ll take the hit.

  It won’t be easy. But if I don’t, my worst nightmare could come true.

  Chapter 5

  Josie

  * * *

  I stare at the bedroom ceiling. For once, I can’t blame this wide-awake state on insomnia or night terrors. Blood rushes thickly through my veins, and a throb pulses low in my belly. For the hundredth time, I tell myself I was imagining the hard bulge in Cole’s trousers.

  As he stood watching me while I slept. Which should totally creep me out. Except it doesn’t. Because despite everything, it’s still Cole.

  And he was most definitely aroused.

  With a groan, I press my hands to my eyes. Not even the catastrophic end of our relationship had weakened my body’s need for him. I’d gone without sex for two years after the accident before finally giving in to a nice young sculptor I’d been tentatively dating. He’d been caring and attentive, but I hadn’t felt anything near what I’d experienced with Cole. And though my relationship with the sculptor lasted for another three months, it was never free from Cole’s shadow.

  Nothing was. Especially not my heart.

  I rub my hand restlessly over my breasts. My stiff nipples poke against my T-shirt. I edge my fingers under the hem to my belly. Despite my shock at waking from a shallow sleep and finding him hovering over me, my body had responded to the sight of his erection with lightning-quick speed. My heart jumped, sending a heavy pulse right to my clit.