The Trouble With Love

by Beth Ciotta

  This is what’s been festering inside you all these years?

  As if it were no big deal! She folded her own arms, hiked her chin. “You need to leave. I’ll find my own way home.”

  Without a word, he gathered his things.

  Rocky’s blood pressure spiked to the moon and back. “If you tell Dev about that night just to clear your conscience—”

  “I was thinking more about Dev’s peace of mind. Do you have any idea how much he’s struggled with the tension between us?”

  “Of course I know.” Her brother had been pressing her to confide in him for years.

  “Yet you’d leave him puzzling rather than risk an uncomfortable confrontation.”

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “Knowing Dev, he’ll be shocked and pissed. But he’ll get over it. Your dad’s not going to hunt me down and shoot me and he’s sure as hell not going to disown you.” Eyes sparking with fury, Jayce snatched up his duffel. “I can’t believe I let this drag out for so long.”

  “You speak as if we broke curfew or filched a couple of beers from Gram’s fridge,” Rocky ranted. “We had sex. I was barely seventeen, Jayce. You were twenty-two. A trusted member of the family. Mom and Dad will never look at you the same way. Or me for that matter.” His silence incited panic and fury. Trembling, Rocky held her ground rather than pounce and pummel. “How can you be so selfish?”

  “I could ask you the same.” He spared her a glance while walking out the door. “That bit about you growing up while I wasn’t looking? You were wrong.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sugar Creek, Vermont

  Good food, good drink, good vibes.

  Luke scanned the lively crowd, his heart full and his hands busy as he opened a fifth bottle of champagne—on the house. This was why he’d been inspired to buy the Sugar Shack. He loved the rush of fostering a business that inspired good times and the occasional celebration. Celebrations involving friends and family were a special bonus. Like this impromptu gathering following the first day of business for Gram’s and Chloe’s new café.

  Even though it was only 4:45, the Shack was fairly crowded. Luke’s chef, Anna, and her team were in the kitchen preparing for the dinner rush. In the pub, a fire crackled in the cobblestone hearth and a melodic mix of classic rock provided unobtrusive atmosphere. Some patrons nibbled on party mix while watching the televised college football game. Others were engrossed in conversation. Several ladies from the Cupcake Lovers sat around one table chatting about their special display at Moose-a-lotta, while the owners and staff of said café had crowded into a nearby window booth. On one side—Gram, Chloe, and Dev. On the other—Ethel, Monica, and her husband, Leo.

  Once Luke and Nell—the only waitress on the clock for the next half hour thanks to Connie quitting—distributed glasses to one and all, Luke raised his sparkling flute in a toast. “To Moose-a-lotta!”

  “Moose-a-lotta!” Everyone drank to the café, then resumed their personal conversations.

  “I’ll watch the bar,” Nell said to Luke. “You celebrate with your family.”

  Luke smiled at the woman, a pretty thing, although a bit shy for his personal taste. “Thanks, hon. I’ll just be a minute or two.” He pulled up a chair and felt a kick in the shin.

  “Don’t go there,” Chloe warned Luke as Nell hustled toward the bar. “You can’t afford to lose another waitress.”

  Gram squinted at Luke as though he were a dim bulb. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad business to mattress dance with the help?”

  Mattress dance?

  “Yeah,” Dev said. “Me.”

  “Sometimes big brother knows best,” Monica said.

  “Hell hath no fury,” Leo said

  Gram turned to Chloe. “I think we should hire Connie to work at Moose-a-lotta.”

  Like everything else in Sugar Creek, news that Lizzie and Connie had given Luke the royal kiss-off had spread like wildfire within moments of the unfortunate double whammy.

  “Always liked that girl,” Ethel said. “Smart and fast. Pleasant, too.”

  “I’m hoping Connie will come back to the Shack once she cools off,” Luke said.

  “Then why did you post the Help Wanted sign?” Dev asked.

  “Because we lost Marla last week and if Connie doesn’t come back that means I’m down two waitresses. Nell’s sweet, but she’s been a little unreliable lately, and Sadie just informed me she’s pregnant, so—”

  “Sadie Thompson is pregnant?” Monica asked.

  Luke froze at the woman’s stricken expression. Everyone in the booth shot Luke a not-so-subtle death glare. Nice going, Monroe. Common knowledge: Monica and Leo had been trying to have a baby for months. So far, no luck, and according to gossip, their marriage was feeling the strain. “Uh … yeah,” Luke said. “Sorry. Thought everyone knew.”

  “Not everyone,” Leo said.

  “I’m thrilled for Sadie and Paul,” Monica said. “Just married and newly pregnant. They must be over the moon.”

  “I think they’re in shock,” Luke said. “It was an—”

  Someone gave him a hard kick.

  Leo glared.

  “An accident.” Monica jammed her hand though her spiky short hair. “Huh.”

  “I need something stronger.” Leo pushed aside his champagne glass. “Anyone else?”

  Gram raised her hand. “I’ll take a Blue Hawaiian!”

  “Nell wouldn’t know how to make that, Gram,” Luke said.

  “Then I’ll have glass of chardonnay. Thank you, Leo. And stop frowning at me, Devlin Monroe. Vincent has been monitoring my medication. I’m fine.”

  Vince Redding. Proprietor of Oslow’s General Store and Gram’s devoted friend. If the bearded old guy had his way, he and Gram (both widowed) would be more than friends, which struck Luke as cool and weird at the same time.

  Dev, who had yet to fully forgive Vince for keeping him in the dark about Gram’s heart condition, frowned. Then he turned that frown on Luke. “About the staffing situation—”

  “Can we talk about this later?” Luke glanced at Monica, who was looking across the bar at Leo, who was smiling at Nell. Oh, Christ. “This moment’s about Moose-a-lotta,” Luke said, trying to draw the attention to something positive. “Can I just say that was the best Mocha Latte I’ve ever had? You’ve got a magic touch, Monica.”

  “It was the Café Latte Maker. All I did was push a button.”

  “You did more than that,” Chloe said. “You and Ethel were amazing today.”

  “Can’t thank you ladies enough for filling in until we know exactly how much help we’ll need on a steady basis,” Gram said.

  “And how much we can afford to pay on a steady basis,” Chloe added. “Although if today was any indication…” She beamed a thousand-watt smile. “I can’t believe how many people dropped in and how many vowed to return!”

  “I can,” Dev said. “Never had a doubt.”

  “Me neither,” Gram said. “Although I do believe I enticed more than a few oblivious passersby with my moose antics.”

  Chloe smiled. “You were adorable, Daisy, and I agree, Millie Moose is a valuable marketing tool. But to optimize the effect I think we should reserve her presence for special occasions.”

  “Yeah,” Monica chimed in. “Makes Millie all the more special. Like a reclusive celebrity.”

  “I see your point,” Gram said. “Speaking of special occasions, I have an idea that will benefit both Moose-a-lotta and the Cupcake Lovers booth during the Spookytown Spectacular.”

  The women sipped champagne while Gram launched into a vibrant pitch.

  Luke took the opportunity to grab his brother’s attention. “Talk to you for a minute?”

  Dev brushed a kiss over Chloe’s cheek. “Be right back.”

  The dark-haired beauty smiled at Dev, and Luke’s heart gave a funny jerk. Women smiled at him all the time but not like that. He couldn’t pinpoint the difference, but it was sun and moon, worlds apart. Huh. O
ne thing was certain: Luke liked Chloe a lot. She loved his brother, good and true, faults and all. Not for his bank account or what he could do for her. As smart as Dev was, over the years he’d made some dumb-ass choices in women. Especially and foremost his ex-wife—not that anybody in the family ever mentioned Janna. Talk about a sore spot.

  “Is this about the staffing problem?” Dev asked as Luke shut them inside his small office.

  “No. It’s about our sister. Nash called.”

  “Shot me a text an hour ago.”

  “So you know he flew down to New York to bring Rocky home.”

  “I know.”

  “Why isn’t she flying back with Tasha? I phoned and left Rocky a message, but she didn’t return my call. Just texted: Business concluded. New York sucks. Coming home.” Luke dropped into his desk chair. “I hate texts.”

  Dev crooked a smile. “And e-mails.”

  “I just happen to like the personal connection of a phone call.” Luke had been accused of being a Luddite for years. It was not that he was adverse to technological change. It was that technology proposed a special challenge that taxed his patience.

  “For what it’s worth,” Dev said, “Rocky didn’t return my call either and the text she sent me was similar to the one you got. I did, however, get the scoop from Jayce.”

  Luke listened as Dev relayed news about a glitch with the publisher and about Tasha staying on through Tuesday. When Dev segued into announcing Jayce was moving home, Luke pretended to be surprised so as not to rat out Chloe.

  “When Rocky mentioned she wanted to return home today,” Dev went on, “Jayce broke his news and offered to drive her back to Sugar Creek.”

  “Let me guess: Rocky freaked out about Jayce moving home and they ended up having a fight.”

  Forearms braced on knees, Dev leaned forward and regarded Luke with a raised brow. “You once said you suspected the cause of the rift between those two.”

  And now Luke knew for sure. “Not my story to tell.”

  “Someone’s going to talk. I don’t intend to spend every day of the next several years playing mediator between my sister and best friend at family and social gatherings. Whatever it is, it can’t be that damn bad.”

  Luke stifled a grunt. It was, in truth, pretty damn bad. He couldn’t decide which was worse, the ill-timed tumble itself or the fact that Jayce and Rocky had kept it secret for thirteen years. Big on loyalty and honesty, Dev would see this as a big-ass betrayal. Their parents would be shocked and hurt. Hell, Luke had been shocked and he was royally pissed at Jayce, whom he’d yet to see face-to-face since learning the truth. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t lose it on the man. Any way you cut it, things were going to get messy. Even so, Luke intended to urge Rocky to come clean with Dev pronto. Clear the air and move the hell on.

  “Whatever you do, don’t ride Rocky too hard on this. I’m worried about her. She’s had more than her share of bad luck over the past few years. She puts on a tough front, but she’s only human. I checked up on the Red Clover after I left Moose-a-lotta this morning and … I don’t know, Dev. Do you really think the renovations will save her business?”

  Dev shrugged. “In these economic times any small business is a crap shoot. But I do know those renovations will save Rocky’s home. Which qualifies the investment. She loves that property and it was falling apart around her ears.”

  Luke arched a brow. “Putting sentiment before business? What’s happening to you? Not that I mind.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve had a recent lesson in priorities.”

  “Spurred by Chloe?”

  “In part.”

  Luke sensed he’d hit a raw nerve. Sensed a shift in Dev’s mood. Something was troubling him beyond Rocky and Jayce. “Care to expand?”

  “I wish I could. I—”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Luke frowned. “Yeah?”

  A woman peeked in—a veil of limp, blah-blond hair obstructing a good portion of her pale face. “I … Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize … I was told I’d find you in your office,” she said to Luke. “I didn’t know—”

  “I was just leaving, Rachel,” Dev said. “He’s all yours.”

  Luke watched as his brother left, feeling as though their conversation had been cut off at a crucial mark. He couldn’t help resenting the intrusion. Rachel Lacey, of all people. What could the meek day-care teacher want?

  “So is there a formal application?”

  Luke jammed a hand through his hair, his thoughts still with his brother. “Sorry?”

  “The sign in the window,” Rachel said in a soft voice. “Help Wanted. I’d like to apply.”

  A recent lesson in priorities? Did it have something to do with Dev going head-to-head with their dad over store renovations? Their parents had retired to Florida, but Luke’s brother had been duking it out with their old man long-distance.

  Rachel cleared her throat.

  Luke shook off his musings and focused on the mousy woman who’d somehow snared his cousin’s affections. “I’m sorry, Rachel. What?”

  “There’s a Help Wanted sign in your window. I’d like to apply.”

  “For a job?” That snagged his full attention. “Don’t you work full-time at Sugar Tots?”

  “Gretchen cut back on my hours. So is there an application?”

  “Not a formal one. Have you waited tables before?”

  “No.”

  “Ever worked in a restaurant or bar in any capacity?”

  “No. But I’m a quick study.”

  She was also on the frumpy side. Her hair was clean but lifeless, the drab locks falling forward and masking her expressions. It didn’t help that she looked at her feet or the floor most of the time. From what he could see, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. Rocky could pull off a totally natural look, but Rocky was gorgeous. Rachel was, well, plain. As for her figure … Did she have one? Hard to tell. Her wardrobe seemed to consist solely of what Chloe called peasant dresses. Shapeless dresses that hung below Rachel’s knees or to her ankles. She was also fond of those flat-soled sweater boots. There wasn’t one single sexy thing about Rachel Lacey, and yet Sam had been mooning over her for several months. Luke didn’t get the fascination. But he did pick up on a hint of desperation.

  A woman in need.

  Shit.

  “Okay. Sure. I’ll give you a try. Two-week trial.”

  “Seems fair.”

  Barely, but he needed to get his act together as far as a reliable staff. Especially with Spookytown Spectacular on the horizon and the upcoming winter season. High tourist season for Sugar Creek, booming business for the Shack. “You supply the uniform basics—black pants, white top. I supply the Sugar Shack apron.”

  “When do I start?” she asked the stapler on his desk. At least that’s where her gaze was directed.

  “I’d say tonight, but you’ve got a date with Sam.”

  “I can break it.”

  “No. God, no.” Sam would kill him. What was he saying? The whole of the Cupcake Lovers would kill him. Death by muffin-pan beating. Luke shuddered. “What about a short training session on Monday? A lay of the land. If you’re still interested, we’ll talk scheduling after.”

  “I work noon to five at Sugar Tots, but I could do before or after.”

  “Will eleven work for you? It won’t take long.”

  Rachel nodded. “Anything else I should know? Any paperwork?”

  “Nope. We’re good.” He glanced at his watch. “You should get going. Sam made reservations for six thirty. Not much time to run home and doll up.”

  She glanced down at her dress, blushed.

  Oh, Christ. Was she dolled up? Shit.

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Luke. I appreciate it.” She pushed out of the chair and tripped over her clunky booted feet in her haste to blow out of the office.

  When the door shut, Luke thunked his hand to his forehead. He could see it now. Overturned serving trays and lots of broken di
shes. At least he wouldn’t be tempted to do any mattress dancing with his newest employee.

  “Buck up, Monroe. Maybe she’ll put Connie’s serving skills to shame.”

  In which case, Rachel Lacey would be a blessing in frumpy disguise.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I owe you, Nash.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Rocky. That’s what family’s for.”

  The tornado of emotions swirling inside of Rocky for the last several hours ratcheted to an F3—severe. The mention of family, now that she and Nash had landed on home turf, weakened the dwindling starch in her spine. Nash was just one of several cousins living in the area—although he was definitely one of the closest to her heart. Would he think less of her when he learned about her long-buried secret? She’d snuck out of a friend’s house on the night of her seventeenth birthday, crawled in through Jayce’s bedroom window, slowly stripped, and … Oh, God. She’d so been the instigator. Never mind Nash. What would her aunts and uncles think? What about Gram?

  Rochelle Leigh Monroe: the Virgin Slut.

  Shudder.

  Rocky had been so focused on surviving the impending shitstorm with Dev and her parents, she hadn’t thought about the wider family scope.

  As if sensing her mounting frustration, Nash gently gripped Rocky’s elbow as he rolled her duffel across the tarmac of Starlight Field. “Just wish you’d share whatever’s eating you,” he said. “Gotta say, flying from New York to Sugar Creek with you fuming in sizzling silence was unnerving.”

  “You? Charter pilot of private planes and hot-air balloons? Poker player extraordinaire? Rattled? Didn’t think that possible.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Even though she’d blasted Jayce after he’d shaken her world with his mind-blowing news, the man had covered her hotel bill and left her an envelope at the front desk on his way out. An envelope containing two hundred bucks and a short note.