Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  “You’re really amazing, Cole.” Scarlett stopped and peered up at him. Her gaze traveled down his chest and she frowned. “They forgot the heart. The Tin Man got his heart at the end of the movie.”

  “My heart’s right here.” He took her hand in his. “You’ve always had it.”

  Scarlett blinked rapidly and sucked down air.

  “Baby, no more crying. Please?” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close.

  “Did you mean it?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “When you said—you know—you love me?”

  “With all my heart.”

  She leaned in and kissed him, smearing the still wet makeup on his nose.

  “I love you, Cole Odell,” she whispered.

  “With all your heart?” He wiped his finger over the smudge on her cheek, but it only got worse.

  “All of it.”

  Cole had never expected to find love. He’d assumed it wasn’t for him, that he didn’t deserve it. And then Scarlett happened, proving him wrong. He loved her in a way that he wanted to hold on to. Forever.

  “Pig!” Someone yelled.

  “No,” Scarlett groaned.

  Cole laughed, nearly bending in half as two kids streaked by hot on the trail of a pig. That same pig that had brought him face to face with the love of his life.

  Epilogue

  Garth Lively stood back and eyed the curtain rod. It looked even with the others, but these old houses were so crooked and unsteady that an even job might still not look right.

  “Perfect,” Scarlett proclaimed and wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him a squeeze.

  “We’ll see how they look once the curtains are up.” He expected to need to redo a few of the rods.

  “Thanks so much for doing this. Cole would have helped when he gets home.” Scarlett offered him then Benji a mason jar of cold tea.

  “I’m about sick of the window show,” Benji growled.

  Garth didn’t offer his thoughts, but he agreed with Benji. It was hard enough for Garth to back off and let Scarlett take on the wedding planner gig. Having a front row view to her living room and her unfolding romance was too much.

  “Oh, stop it.” Scarlett slapped Benji’s shoulder. “His family is coming over tonight if you two want to join us for dinner?”

  “Sure thing.” Garth’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and the room went cold. “I’ll be right back.”

  Scarlett and Benji continued talking, not paying him any mind.

  Garth ducked outside and jogged down the steps to the gravel before he answered the phone.

  “Hello?” He glanced over his shoulder and kept walking.

  “Mr. Garth Lively?” a woman asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m calling because you didn’t show up for your appointment today.”

  “And I told that doc I didn’t want to do the test.”

  “Mr. Lively—”

  “Leave me alone.” He hung up and prayed that this time his well-meaning doctor stopped with the tests.

  Garth didn’t want to know what was wrong. He knew they couldn’t fix it. They hadn’t been able to fix daddy, so why did Garth think they could fix him, too?

  He had to focus on getting the business going in tip-top shape so that Benji and Scarlett would be taken care of so long as they were good stewards of what they’d been given. That was Garth’s job as the oldest, he had to prepare the other two to go on without him.

  A silver car pulled into the drive.

  Cole’s sisters.

  Garth waved at them but kept going.

  Scarlett would be taken care of. She and Cole were good for each other. He’d make her happy, and in the near future they’d get married. There was already baby talk.

  Garth had known from the time the coroner told him their dad passed away from a weak heart that was going to be his future. Benji took after Mom in the best ways and didn’t show the same symptoms Garth had. His years might be limited, but he could do the best for his family in the time he had left.

  * * *

  * * *

  Benji stared out the window at Garth.

  “Something’s still up with him,” Scarlett said.

  “Yeah.” Benji slung his arm around Scarlett’s waist and gave her a squeeze. “You know he’s going to shit bricks when you tell him Cole’s moving in here, right?”

  “Yes.” Scarlett sighed and turned away from him, heading for the kitchen.

  Cole’s brother and sister-in-law had gotten sacked after taking their foster kids to the Halloween party, something Cal and Eve seemed to know was a possibility. They’d moved in with Cole and then came the two younger sisters. It was a lot of people in one house with a new baby, but the young couple claimed they had a plan. It wasn’t Benji’s business, so he stayed out of it.

  What mattered to him was that Cole made Scarlett happy. Besides, the guy was at Scarlett’s almost every night.

  “You knocked up yet?” Benji slid onto a stool.

  “Benjamin Lively.” Scarlett gave him the stink eye

  “What? You lot are baby crazy.”

  “We’re slowing down.”

  “Moving in together is slowing down?” He quirked a brow at her.

  “Yes, believe it or not.” She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “Moving in is more about giving Cal and Eve some space. If you must know, Cole and I have a plan.”

  “Care to clue me in?”

  “Promise not to tell Garth?”

  “Deal.” Benji held out his hand.

  Scarlett leaned on the island and shook his hand.

  “We’re going to date for a year, maybe a year and a half. If we still want to get married, we’ll do it fast. No long engagement or anything, just pick an evening that works for us, order some catering and do it. Then, after six months or another year, we’ll try for kids.”

  “Wow. That’s a highly detailed plan for two people who have been together for a few months.”

  Scarlett studied him for several long, silent moments. She might be the youngest, but those eyes of her were wise.

  He heard a car pull up, but didn’t glance away.

  “We almost eloped in January,” Scarlett said.

  “What?” Benji stared at her, completely shocked by that statement.

  The front door opened and a chorus of women’s voices along with a chilly breeze rushed in.

  “Scarlett,” he whispered, but she ignored him in favor of crossing to the front door to welcome in the new half of their family.

  Benji turned to watch her. He was stunned by the revelation, but it also made sense. She and Cole were so deeply connected everyone assumed they were going to get married. It wasn’t a question.

  Benji was happy for her. Scarlett deserved to finally have the big family she’d always wanted, even if they all came with their own brand of baggage. Getting married and settling down wasn’t for him. He’d watched too many people walk down the aisle only to regret it later. That wouldn’t be him. No, he was a confirmed, happy bachelor that was looking forward to spoiling his nieces and nephews rotten.

  * * *

  You can stay up to date on all the Ransom gossip in Summer of Love and Party Out of Bounds coming this summer. Check out the Texas SWAT series starting with Fighting Redemption and Stolen Redemption out now.

  Part VII

  Second Chance Charmer

  by Brighton Walsh

  About This Book

  Finn spent his childhood living so far on the wrong side of the tracks, he couldn’t even see them through his trailer window. When he moves back to his small, southern hometown to open the first bar in a formerly dry county, he’s no longer the boy who left—he’s a man with something to prove. As long as he doesn’t allow himself to get sidetracked by the only girl he’s ever loved.

  Willow learned a long time ago to protect her heart at all costs, so her walls are firmly in place when her ex comes strolling back into to
wn, all cockiness and charm. When they're thrown together on the job, she knows better than to give in to the tug of attraction that still simmers between them. She might be drawn to him, but she certainly doesn't trust him. It's time for her to prove she's not the brokenhearted girl he left behind.

  There’s no room for second chances in Havenbrook. And Willow’s daddy—the mayor—will do anything to keep it that way.

  To Christina who said, “You should totally set your series here.” Thanks for playing tour guide and letting me borrow your cute little town.

  Willow Haven didn’t have bad days. It wasn’t in her planner, so it just didn’t happen, plain and simple. Her life was one of order and routine—she’d already gone off track once, and she didn’t have even the slightest inclination to do it again. Which meant she woke up at the same time each day, whether or not she needed to go into work. She did a yoga sequence, sat down and enjoyed a cup of coffee and the morning paper, and then got ready for her day.

  What she did not do was sleep through her alarm—thanks to a completely inappropriate dream she didn’t want to think about, starring a completely inappropriate man she definitely didn’t want to think about—and wake up too late to be able take a shower or even put on makeup. She glanced at the clock on the wall as the second hand ticked past the big twelve at the top. 9:04. Even if she could blink her way to her office and transport instantaneously, she’d still be late for her nine o’clock appointment. Which was absolutely unheard of. Willow had never missed an appointment—had never even been later than fifteen minutes early to one, if you wanted to get right down to it.

  “Dammit,” she hissed as she flew around the house, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach at the prospect of disappointing the people waiting for her. Not to mention, this was going to upend her whole day, send the line of dominoes tumbling over. She could feel it.

  She grabbed her favorite black heels, hopping on one foot as she slipped each shoe on, plucked her travel mug full of liquid sanity from under the machine once the stream had cut off, and snatched her messenger bag off the hook by the front door. Town hall wasn’t far—definitely close enough to walk. But not in Mississippi in late May. Mother Nature held all the beauty in the world, but she didn’t have air conditioning. Willow’s Prius did.

  Thankfully, the path from her home to town hall was clear, so she made it there in record time without having to go more than five miles over the speed limit. Lord knew if any of her daddy’s cop buddies had seen her speeding, they’d have thought she’d been body snatched.

  Grabbing her bag and her coffee, she stepped from her car. It was already busy in the town square, though that was to be expected considering it was—

  Willow froze with her travel mug halfway to her mouth, her eyes glued to the man across the street as he strolled into the coffee shop, casual as you please, leaving her to gape in his wake. She stared at the space he’d just been. Blinked. Stared some more. She’d only managed a brief glimpse of his face before he’d disappeared inside. But he’d looked so much like the man from her dream—so much like the man she’d once known better than herself—that a mountain range had formed in her stomach, its jagged edges cutting through her insides.

  A truck pulled up to the single stoplight on Main Street, blocking Willow’s view of the coffee shop and breaking her trance. She shook her head and muttered to herself under her breath, “Get your head on straight, girl.”

  She had to have seen incorrectly, no doubt a product of her dream playing tricks on her mind and her frazzled morning throwing her off. There was no other explanation. For one thing, Finn Thomas hadn’t set foot in Havenbrook in ten long years, and she didn’t anticipate he’d suddenly gotten a craving for the coffee at Higher Grounds. Second—and this one was harder to admit, even to herself—she hadn’t felt that zing of awareness she’d always had while in Finn’s presence. And despite the fact that he’d broken her heart and then hadn’t even had the courtesy to stick around and watch while she’d attempted to get over him, she sort of hated the idea that maybe that spark was gone.

  Her phone rang from inside her bag, tearing her from thoughts better left beneath the heaps of baggage she’d stuffed them under years ago. After a quick glance at her screen, she blew out a heavy sigh. Her father’s name flashed, and she pushed aside the wave of exhaustion that swept over her just seeing it there. With her daddy at a conference and his assistant, Gloria, on maternity leave, making sure town hall ran smoothly fell solely on her shoulders. It’d been damn exhausting.

  The kicker was it would’ve been a much easier job if only her daddy had faith she could actually do it.

  Shuffling the items in her hands, she swiped across the face of her phone to accept the call. She plastered on a bright smile, hoping it would carry through the line. “Mornin’, Daddy.”

  “Will,” he snapped. He always snapped. And he always called her Will, never mind the fact that Willow wasn’t the boy her daddy’d assumed she’d be, or that she didn’t particularly like the nickname. At least, not coming from him. Not when she knew the story behind it.

  Having four girls after a decades-long line of only boys had done nothing but piss off the old man. The Havens were known for producing virulent males, but it’d only taken one to break the streak. A false reading on an ultrasound meant Willow’s older sister had come home in a blue outfit, to a blue nursery, and had worn only blue the first month of her life. And Rory James had morphed into Aurora Jane on her birth certificate.

  When Willow had come along three years later, Momma and Daddy had decided not to find out the gender at all, considering the last time had been a complete shitshow—her words, not her momma’s. But her momma had carried Willow low, had craved nothing but salty foods, and her heart rate had been slow. So, based solely on a bunch of old wives’ tales, Willow’s father had been certain she’d be a boy.

  When she’d come out lacking one very important appendage, foresight on her momma’s part meant she’d had an appropriate outfit in which to bring Willow home. Her nursery had still been painted blue, but this time, there’d been bits of pink everywhere. And Will Grant—her father’s choice of name—had been changed to Willow Grace. But Daddy had always insisted on calling her Will. To remind her she’d failed him even while taking her first breath? Maybe. Probably.

  And thus began what she liked to think of as the biggest practical joke her father had ever been on the receiving end of, all courtesy of the big man upstairs. Her daddy was a good old boy and completely old-fashioned from his bull-head all the way down to his stubborn feet. He was a man’s man—whatever the hell that meant. Thought a woman’s place was barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Didn’t think a woman could do a “man’s job”—and certainly couldn’t do it as well.

  Which put him in quite a pickle, seeing as their town was their namesake, and at least one person from each generation of Havens had served as the mayor of Havenbrook. Being plagued with four daughters—each one more headstrong than the previous—for a man who was perpetually stuck in 1950, thinking women belonged only to the men in their lives, was laughable.

  Karma, if you asked Willow.

  All she knew was it was exhausting having that man for a father. Having him for a boss? It was a wonder she’d managed to keep her sanity intact.

  She blew away the stray hairs hanging in her eyes, working hard to keep the smile in place. “Yes, sir?”

  “Why aren’t you in the office yet? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe the work day starts at nine o’clock, not whenever you get around to it.”

  Of course, he’d called on the solitary day out of the hundreds she’d worked for him when she hadn’t been in the office early. It was like he had some sort of sixth sense to Willow’s failures. And he took the opportunity to call her out on every single one of them any chance he got. But because she knew he was anxious being away from the town and his job, stuck at a conference he didn’t want to go to, she bit her lip and forced herself to swallow any
back talk. Buying herself some time so she didn’t bite his head off, she glanced down and kicked a stray rock away, hating how the weight of his disapproval made her feel all of seven years old.

  The sun shone bright in the sky, illuminating her favorite shoes far better than the lighting in her house did. Which was how she realized she wasn’t wearing her pair of black heels, as she’d intended, but rather one black and one navy. That’d teach her for buying multiples of the same style of shoes.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled.

  “’Scuse me, young lady? You might be a grown woman, but you know I don’t tolerate no back-sassin’.”

  She dropped her head back on her shoulders, exhaling a long breath, and closed her eyes. Later tonight, after she’d downed an entire bottle of wine, she was going to laugh about this day. She hoped.

  “Sorry, Daddy, that wasn’t meant for you.” She shut her car door and hustled toward the front steps of town hall, trying to make up for the time her father had cost her. “Now, what can I do for you? You should be enjoyin’ that conference instead of worrying yourself with calling here.”

  “I wish I wouldn’t have to call you, but you haven’t given me much reason to trust you can take care of Havenbrook on your own, now have you?”

  No, not much. Only five years of her life, not to mention restoring a failing downtown while she was at it. But none of that mattered in her daddy’s eyes. Mostly because—as far as Willow could tell—she simply wasn’t her older sister. Or born with a penis. And, unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about either one of those.

  “No need to fuss,” she said. “We’re doing all right here, even without the mayor.”

  He snorted in that arrogant way that set Willow’s teeth on edge. “Avery said it’s a mess there, just a mess.”