by Terri Osburn
Curious, Justin kept an open mind. “I’m interested.”
“If the option to stay for the long haul comes around, think about taking it.”
His mother had always been vocal about wanting Justin to come home for visits, yet neither of his parents had ever pressured him to return for good. Which made this suggestion all the more unexpected.
“My line of work doesn’t really fit in a small-town setting.”
Ice clanged as Pop tapped his glass against his leg. “Mom misses you when you’re gone. And she’s been right happy to have you home. As have I.” A strong hand patted Justin’s shoulder. “Might be nice to make it permanent. But it’s just an idea.” He shuffled toward the door to the kitchen. “Finish up out there before it gets any hotter. Seems like summer comes earlier every year now. Good for business, but tough on an old body.”
As he reached for the screen, Justin said, “You’re barely pushing sixty, Pop. That isn’t so old.”
The laugh lines around deep blue eyes lengthened. “Old isn’t always a number, son. Just think about what I said.”
The slam of the screen door echoed like a punctuation mark on his father’s parting words. Sure, his parents were getting up there, but sixty was the new forty, right? And as far as Justin knew, Ken Donovan was the model of good health. Mom made sure he ate right, and just last year he’d charged ahead of the pack, dragging poor Aunt Dodie along, to win the annual sack race at the church picnic. Justin knew because he’d received a slew of pictures from his mom. Enough to fill two emails.
Maybe it would have been nice to cheer his dad and Dodie on in person, but his career had kept him somewhere else. And would likely take him away again. Trudging out to the edge of the fence, where he’d left the trimmer, Justin shoved his earbuds into place and cranked the music. If the lot Q had found worked out, there might be a chance he could work the development angle from Nashville, which would put him close enough to visit as often as he wanted.
Letting the idea simmer, he jerked the trimmer to life and made quick work of the growing weeds.
Chapter 16
“Let me get this straight,” Lorelei chimed. “The bearded giant with a Harley, a killer leather jacket, and muscles that go on for days is making cookies?”
Carrie beamed with pride. “That’s right. He says it calms his nerves, and he likes the precision of it.”
Abby didn’t know much about Noah Winchester. A bit older than all of them, he’d spent years in the military, mostly serving in the Middle East, and had fallen hard for Carrie Farmer over the winter. There’d been rumors that he’d nearly killed a man to protect Carrie, but nothing was ever confirmed, and every time Abby saw him, he was either toting Carrie’s little girl, Molly, around on his shoulders or flying her through the air, eliciting an endless supply of giggles and hand claps.
Neither of which seemed like something a man with a murderous streak would do.
“He did a fabulous job on our deck,” Snow cut in. “We expected the work to take a week, but he knocked the whole thing out in four days. Caleb says he’s never seen anyone with that kind of focus.”
Caleb McGraw was another mystery to Abby. He and Snow were the only non-natives in their circle of friends. The media conglomerate heir hailed from an old-money family in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and had chosen Snow, an ordinary girl from Birmingham, who happened to be biracial, over his parents’ less-than-tactful protestations. Movie-star gorgeous, Caleb had ingratiated himself with the locals from the moment he crossed the city limits sign, and by all accounts, no one seemed to remember that he hadn’t been born on Tennessee soil.
“Spencer would have helped with that deck,” Lorelei offered. “Though the custom cabinet orders have kept him busy lately, he’d have made time.”
The Spencer and Lorelei story beat the others for both duration and complication. The pair had been high school sweethearts before Lorelei gave the town the big F you and headed for the lights of Hollywood. After which Spencer recovered and married Carrie. By the time Lorelei returned two years ago, her ex was once again a free man, Carrie was married to someone else, and before long they were all close friends, sending more than one tongue wagging with speculation.
That same summer, Carrie’s husband, Patch, managed to get himself killed in a bar fight, leaving her pregnant and alone. Thanks to Lorelei, by the time Molly was born Carrie had a job and a place to live, which just happened to be on Noah’s grandparents’ old property.
When Abby really thought about her friends and their happy endings, all earned and much deserved, she couldn’t help but wonder what they’d done right and what she’d done wrong. When the day started she’d felt like maybe Justin could be her second chance, but Haleigh’s misgivings delivered a hefty dose of reality. Abby didn’t really know him, not yet anyway, and until they reached a few more milestones, she’d do well to keep her heart protected.
“Stop arguing with me,” Snow said, jerking the bill from Haleigh’s grasp. “I said I’m paying for everyone.”
“Wait. What?” Abby said. She’d zoned out and missed something.
When Lorelei and Carrie began to protest, Snow held up two hands to shush them all.
“I’m paying for this as a celebration,” she said, pressing a tight curl out of her eyes. “Because nine months from now I won’t be able to fit in this booth anymore, and not because I will have eaten too much queso dip.”
Four women blinked in unison as Snow’s announcement sank in. And then, all at once, they burst half out of their seats, hindered by the large table holding them in.
“Scoot!” Haleigh shouted, shoving Carrie, who was already shuffling over, out of the booth. “Wait. Why am I just now hearing about this?” she asked. “Tell me you aren’t using another doctor. I’ll be crushed if you do.”
As an OB/GYN, Haleigh had delivered Carrie’s daughter as well as Jessi’s little girl, Emma.
“I took a home test and have an appointment with you this week,” Snow informed her, laughing happy tears. “And I can’t stop doing this.” She pointed at her cheeks. “I’m a freaking waterspout.”
“Ah, hormones,” Carrie said. “You gotta love ’em.”
By the time Abby broke free of the table, Lorelei had engulfed Snow in a hug and was jumping up and down.
“Oh my gosh,” she said. “Am I shaking the baby?” Lorelei patted Snow’s flat stomach. “I’m sorry, little one. I’m just so happy to meet you.”
“What did Caleb say?” Carrie asked as Abby finally took her turn at the hug.
“I thought he was going to faint when I first told him.” Snow laughed, glowing as only an expectant mother could. “And then he started talking about bed rest and swing sets, and I haven’t had to load the dishwasher in four days.”
“You’ve known about this for four days?” Lorelei bellowed.
Snow nodded like a bobblehead. “It’s killed me to wait to tell you all.” The tears picked up steam now, and soon all of them were crying.
Abby grabbed a handful of napkins off the table and passed them around. “I’m so happy for you, Snow,” she said, and meant it. Right before Kyle had been killed, they’d decided to start a family on his next trip home, which was supposed to be an extended one. Losing him had also meant losing that chance, and for a long time she’d felt a twinge of remorse whenever the subject of babies came up.
Just one more thing she needed to let go of.
Dabbing at her lashes, Snow sniffled. “We’ve actually been trying for six months. I was starting to think it wasn’t going to happen.”
Crying as one now, they came in for a group hug, immune to the curious stares from surrounding diners.
“I have lots of clothes for you if it’s a girl,” Carrie said.
“And I’ll buy more,” Lorelei assured her.
“We all know what I’m offering,” Haleigh added, leaving Abby as the lone bystander.
With a shrug, she said, “I’m an excellent babysitter.”
; Laughter mixed with tears as purses were gathered and leftovers packed up. By the time they stepped into the midday sun, predictions had been made, a shower had been discussed, and Lorelei and Carrie had all but designed the future nursery. Abby watched and laughed, pretending that she fit somewhere in the picture but still feeling like a spare wheel. These women had husbands and fiancés, and before long they’d all have growing families.
While she’d be Auntie Abby, the fun old lady who never had kids of her own. Rolling her eyes at her own wayward thoughts, she reminded herself that thirty-three was not that old, and there was plenty of time to have a family. After all, Mama was in her fifties and planning a wedding. Not that Abby wanted to wait that long, but twenty years was better than never.
Once good-byes were shared, Snow, Lorelei, and Carrie crossed the parking lot toward Lorelei’s fancy new Nissan Rogue while Haleigh walked Abby to her car.
“You okay?” she said, locking arms.
“I am,” Abby assured her.
“Really?” Haleigh pressed, nudging her shoulder. “Because you’re walking a little funny.”
She pushed the evil woman away, laughing as she did. “See if I tell you anything ever again, Haleigh Rae.”
Sauntering toward her own car, Haleigh called, “Love your guts, Abby Lou!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she replied, smiling at the endearment they’d been exchanging since they were kids. “Love you, too.”
By the time he’d locked the yard equipment in the shed, Justin was thankful he’d driven the old Chevy instead of his Infiniti. There was no way he’d crawl into his baby covered in this much sweat, leather seats or not.
Desperate for a shower, he found a parking space half a block from the bookstore and tried not to offend those he passed on the sidewalk. To avoid stinking out Bruce’s patrons, he turned at the corner to take the back entrance up to his apartment, but before reaching the back corner of the building, a voice called from behind him.
“Heya, buddy,” said Q, his suit loose and wrinkled, as if he’d slept in it. “’Bout time you showed up.”
Hackles up, Justin cut the distance between them. “What are you doing here?”
The cause of all his problems waved a hand in front of his face. “What did you roll in, man? You smell worse than our frat house bathroom.”
“Answer the question,” Justin ordered.
As Culpepper slid his hands into his pockets, a smug grin curled his thin lips. “You didn’t think I’d let you cut me out of this, did you?”
“There’s nothing to cut you out of,” he pointed out. “That lot you found isn’t worth the time.” A bald-faced lie Justin uttered with no remorse. If, once he’d done his research, the interstate lot showed potential, he’d move forward. Alone.
“Give me a break.” Q’s grin didn’t falter. “I know you, buddy. And I know a deal when I see one. That land is our redeeming grace, and I’m not going to let you screw me out of my half.”
Justin didn’t like surprises. He’d counted on the die-hard city slicker’s repugnance for small towns. That he’d shown up on the streets of Ardent Springs meant Q was desperate, and desperate men made mistakes.
“There are plenty of other deals out there, Q. Go back to Chicago and find one.”
“My name is mud in Chicago, thanks to you.”
Dangerous and delusional. “We both know how that went down. You screwed up, not me.”
“You gave the go-ahead,” Q reminded him. “You cut the same corners I did.”
“No,” Justin bit out. “The only mistake I made was trusting you to do your job.”
“As the leader, checking the reports was your responsibility.”
“Reports that you put together. You knew that Rockwood was on the verge of going under, yet you guaranteed that the numbers looked good.”
“Howie told me they could pull it off. Our job was going to save his dad’s business.”
Howie Rockwood had been another college buddy that Justin had mistakenly put his faith in.
“Rule number one of real estate development,” he growled. “Make sure the money is there. You don’t trust someone’s word, no matter who they are.”
“I trusted Howie, and you trusted me,” Quintin snapped. “But I’m the fuckup and you’re the one who got screwed? How do you figure?”
Justin had run through the facts countless times, always arriving at the same conclusion. He’d been as much to blame as Q was, only more so because he’d known better. A realization that never failed to piss him off.
“The fall came down on all of us,” he consented. “Lesson learned. You want to redeem your name? Do it somewhere else.”
He turned away, but Q didn’t give up. “Nashville is one of, if not the fastest-growing cities in the country. That means expansion, and your little burb is plenty close enough to benefit from that growth. The interstate lot could be just the beginning. Within five years we could turn Ardent Springs into a Music City suburb. Housing developments are small beans compared to skyscrapers, but they’re steady money. Money that can be invested elsewhere for a bigger profit.”
Meaning he’d fill their town with cookie-cutter houses, putting quantity over quality, and then, instead of investing the profits back into the local economy, he’d gamble them away on bigger, riskier deals. Justin might be ambitious, but he still had a conscience.
“Go back to Chicago,” he snarled. “Your kind of deals aren’t wanted here.”
“Dammit, Donovan, I have nothing to go back to.”
Before he could answer, Justin spotted Abby coming their way. “I can’t talk right now,” he said, eyes focused over the other man’s shoulder. “Call me later.”
Too bad Q didn’t take the hint. Instead he spun to see what or who had captured his friend’s attention. Pretty in a light blue skirt and white T beneath a denim jacket, she strolled up to them, curiosity in her emerald eyes.
“Hey there,” she said, glancing from Justin to Q and back again. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing important,” he snapped, sending his friend a warning glare.
“I’m Quintin Culpepper,” the bastard said, knowing full well the friendly greeting would piss Justin off. “Donovan and I went to college together.”
“Oh.” She seemed surprised, likely because Q was a stranger, and those didn’t pass through Ardent Springs very often. Especially not while wearing disheveled gray suits. “Nice to meet you, Quintin.”
“You can call me Q. All my friends do.” Dull blue eyes assessed Abby from head to toe, tempting Justin to rip his head off. “Are all the girls in this town as pretty as you are?”
That did it. “Time to go, Q.” Justin gripped his buddy’s arm, dragging him toward Main Street. “If you want me to help save your ass,” he whispered, “stay away from the locals. Call me tomorrow.”
Twisting to catch another glimpse of Abby, he said, “Does Vicki know you’ve already replaced her?”
Slamming the piece of shit against the wall, Justin leaned in until their noses nearly touched. “I will not hesitate to show you exactly what we do to worthless weasels down here in the South. And if you think small town means there aren’t plenty of places to lose a body, you’re wrong.”
Breathing heavy, Q no longer smiled. “Careful, bro. Your redneck is showing.”
“Suck it, Culpepper.”
Ticked off at himself as much as Q, Justin returned to Abby without looking back.
As he blew by her, Justin snagged Abby’s hand and pulled her along with him. Struggling to keep up, she said, “Call me crazy, but that seemed like an odd way to talk to a college buddy.”
“It’s a long story,” he said, rounding the corner into the alley behind the bookstore.
“I’d like to hear it,” she huffed. Her legs weren’t long enough to maintain his pace.
Pinning her against the rear entrance to the store, he kissed her senseless, igniting her body and dragging a ragged moan from deep in her chest. She clung to
strong shoulders, the gray cotton damp to the touch.
Justin broke the kiss. “Don’t ask me about Q, okay?”
Dazed and distracted, she murmured, “Why not?”
“He has nothing to do with us.”
The instinct not to push warred with the promise she’d made Haleigh. “You can tell me anything, Justin. I want to know about your life.”
“That part of my life is over.” A green-stained hand trailed down her neck before he jerked away. “I’m filthy,” he said. “I’m going to get you dirty.”
Abby didn’t mind a little dirt and sweat if it meant being kissed like that. Unable to let the previous scene go, she said, “For a minute there I thought you were going to hurt him.”
Hazel eyes darkened like the sky before a spring storm. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at me, either,” she confessed. “But whatever happened out there involved more than a harmless leer. Why did you react like that?”
He shook his head, sending a wilted clover cascading to the ground. “I told you. He crossed a line.”
All kinds of lines were being crossed today. Accepting defeat, for now, Abby said, “You should probably go take a shower. I’m actually here to help Mama with something for the wedding.”
Humor returning, he teased, “You mean you aren’t here to see me?”
“Sadly, no. But my schedule is clear for this evening.”
“Are you propositioning me, Ms. Williams?” he asked, the storm clouds fading.
“Maybe,” she teased. “Would you like to see a movie with me?”
After two years of endless fundraising and hard work, the Ruby Theater had finally reopened for business. For weeks, she’d been dying to watch a film from the old-fashioned balcony.
“The African Queen is playing at the Ruby,” Abby added. “I’ll even buy you a bag of popcorn.”
Justin tugged on the edge of her jacket. “No way I’d pass up an offer like that.”
Not many men jumped at the chance to watch a classic from the fifties, even with stars like Hepburn and Bogart. “Really?” she asked. “You’ll go?”