Best Laid Plans

by Abbie Zanders

  It might just be a classic case of NIMBY—the Not In My Backyard philosophy embraced by those resistant to change of any kind. The residents of Sumneyville might have concerns about the initiative, especially when the place was being created specifically for men and women who were having difficulty assimilating back into the general population.

  Small-town wariness was something Heff understood. He was from a small town himself and knew that an influx of outsiders rarely meant anything good for locals. Recent media attention hadn’t helped by focusing on the rare cases of those vets who hadn’t successfully assimilated back into society and had become very real, very lethal dangers to those unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  But what about the others? The ones who could benefit by having a safe, supportive place to go while they transitioned from military service back to civilian life?

  That was a much bigger problem, as evidenced by the high rate of suicide among veterans. Those men and women—the ones who had put their lives on the line to protect the very people who now looked at them with fear and uncertainty—deserved better.

  Great programs did exist. There just weren’t enough of them.

  It was precisely for that reason that Church decided to use his inheritance to make a positive difference. The Sanctuary project was something that he and the rest of his team believed in wholeheartedly. Heff thought most decent people would too. They just needed a little assurance and some accurate information to see it.

  Contrary to the old adage, ignorance bred fear and mistrust, not bliss.

  That was how he had come up with the idea of a town hall meeting. An opportunity to share Church’s vision with the locals in Sumneyville and the surrounding area. To explain what they were doing and exactly why such a facility was needed. Citizens could ask questions and express their concerns, and they could have an open and honest discussion and alleviate their fears. For whatever reason, Church wasn’t stoked about the idea, but the others had agreed it was worth a shot.

  That was exactly what had him walking into the Sumneyville town hall during his downtime instead of heading out of town and getting laid like he should have done. Staying far away from Franco’s—and therefore reducing his exposure to temptation—was part of his plan.

  Running into her at the township office was not.

  And, fuck him, she looked even hotter, sitting behind that desk in that pretty peach top with her hair hanging in soft, loose waves around her shoulders.

  Apparently, she not only worked nights and weekends at Franco’s, but she also had a day job with the township as well. And since she was the only one there at the time, he had no choice but to deal with her directly, one-on-one.

  On the plus side, she was extremely sympathetic when he explained what he’d come for. Her eyes softened, and—fuck him again—she helped him fill out the paperwork and told him she’d make sure it got priority for review.

  Still, he wouldn’t have done anything had fate not conspired against him in the form of a brief but violent pop-up thunderstorm and a second unplanned crossing of paths.

  After grabbing some supplies in town, he was on his way back toward the Sanctuary when he spotted her taking cover from the storm under the awning of a tiny shop. He drove past, managing to make it almost six blocks before his conscience got the best of him. After she’d been so kind and helpful, he could at least offer her a ride.

  That was what he told himself anyway.

  As it turned out, the address she gave him wasn’t her house but a motel on the edge of town.

  He should have left her there and driven away. He should have said no. Instead, he found himself going in, securing a room, and then driving around the back with the key.

  There’d been no words. No discussion. Just silent, mutual, physical agreement.

  He couldn’t honestly say he had any regrets. The last several hours had been fan-fucking-tastic. Emphasis on the fucking.

  Maybe it was because he’d gone so long without sex. Maybe it was because he’d been secretly fantasizing about having sex with her since the first time she smiled at him in that damn restaurant. Or maybe it was his belief that, if he thoroughly scratched that particular itch, he could put her out of his mind once and for all and move on.

  Heff rolled out of bed and walked into the shower, unable to withhold his grin when he spotted the red bite and scratch marks over his back and shoulders in the mirror. She really was a wildcat, just like he’d imagined. Responsive. Generous. Extremely good for his ego.

  Yep. No regrets.

  He took his time, enjoying the seemingly limitless spray of hot water. The trailer he was living in out at the site was functional, but there was something to be said for a full-sized shower and great water pressure.

  He thought about driving back up the mountain and then looked at the television and the queen-size bed and decided against it. Oh, what the hell? He’d already paid for the night, and it wasn’t as if anyone was expecting him.

  Heff pulled up an app and ordered a pizza and a six-pack, flipping through the channels while he waited for the delivery. After watching a movie and eating his fill, he slipped between the sheets, pleased to discover they still carried her scent. Something clean and lightly citrusy that made him think of summer and laundry line-dried out in the sunshine and fresh air. He closed his eyes and drifted off, refusing to overanalyze it.

  Chapter Three

  Sandy

  Sandy wiped the sweat from her brow after she closed and marked another box. Deciding what to keep and what to let go of wasn’t easy. The house had been her home for as long as she could remember and was filled with a lifetime of memories and mementos.

  Her new space in the city was extremely limited, necessitating tough choices. It wasn’t her own stuff she had trouble leaving behind. She’d outgrown most of it over the years, and the necessary frugality that defined most of her adult years meant she hadn’t accumulated much of her own.

  But her mother’s wedding dress, the box holding her brother’s service medals—those were the things she couldn’t easily relinquish. They were her last remaining physical ties to people she’d loved and lost. Things she could pull out and look at and touch when the ache of loss hit hard. These mementos were no substitute for the real thing, but they were all she had left.

  Maybe Lenny would hold them for her until she found a bigger place.

  She hefted the box into her arms with the intent of going next door and asking him to do just that. She found him on the front porch, replacing the ancient light fixture mounted between his half and hers. That was something she should have done months ago, but like so many things, she just hadn’t gotten around to it. Now that both sides of the duplex officially belonged to Lenny, a lot of repairs on the lengthy to-do list were finally getting done.

  He put down his tools the moment he saw her. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  She gratefully handed the box over. “Thanks. It’s heavier than it looks.”

  “Trash or donation?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you might hold on to this one for me. It’s got personal stuff I can’t part with.”

  His eyes brightened. “Of course. I’ll take good care of it for you.” He took the box inside and then came right back out. “Got more?”

  “A few ready for the donation bin. You can help me carry them out to the car.”

  They made several trips, loading as much as she could fit into the trunk and backseat. She’d done this so many times over the past few weeks, and each time, the weight on her shoulders seemed to lighten a little more.

  “Want to take them over now?” he asked, checking his watch. “We might be able to make it before the weekly pick-up.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Let me just put these tools inside, and I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but it’ll be easier with another pair of hands.”

  Befo
re she could protest, Lenny lifted up his old-fashioned open-topped toolbox and disappeared inside, returning seconds later. He looked relieved to find her still there, as if he’d half-expected her to leave without him. Admittedly, she had briefly considered it but only because she was still feeling a little guilty about what had happened the night before. On the plus side, Lenny didn’t seem inclined to talk about it any more than she did.

  The drive to the church didn’t take long. Like many small towns, the church was one of the anchors of the community and centrally located. Between the two of them, they made short work of unloading the car and filling the donation bins and were soon on their way back to the house.

  “Are you working at Franco’s tonight?” he asked as they pulled into the driveway.

  “Not tonight. Rico gave me the night off. I think it’s his way of making it up to me for having to train my replacement.”

  “Who’d he hire?”

  “His niece, Marietta.”

  Lenny furrowed his brows together as he placed the name. “Marietta. A few years behind us in school? Big hair, bigger attitude?”

  Sandy grinned. “That’s the one.”

  “I thought she was working in her aunt’s hair salon.”

  “She was, but she used the wrong rinse on Mrs. Delvecchio and turned her hair purple. Viola fired her and marched her across the street to Franco’s, demanding that Rico give her a job. I thought Jeannie was going to pop a blood vessel.”

  Lenny’s lips twitched. “That good, huh?”

  “Only if batting her eyelashes and shaking her backside were part of the job.”

  “Speaking of, I’m getting hungry. Want to grab some dinner?”

  She looked down at herself. Dressed in dusty jean cutoffs, a faded T-shirt that had seen better days, and ratty sneakers, she felt grimy and told him so.

  Lenny wasn’t easily dissuaded. “Takeout then.”

  The no was right there on her lips, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself say it. He had been nothing but helpful, and with less than a week to go before she moved, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.

  “Takeout sounds good. But I’m buying.” He started to protest, but she held up her hand. “That’s nonnegotiable. You’ve been a great help. It’s the least I can do.”

  He thought about that for a moment and then nodded. “All right. If that’s what it takes.”

  “It is,” she confirmed.

  “Fair enough. Go ahead and order. Your money, your choice. I’m going to finish up that light.”

  She called in an order for pizza and wings and then went out to the porch to let Lenny know. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Here.” She shoved a few bills into his hand. “Just so you don’t get any funny ideas about heading the delivery guy off and picking up the tab.”

  He grinned, the look in his eyes confirming that was exactly what he’d planned to do, and reluctantly accepted the money.

  The hot spray felt good after a day of lugging, sorting, and all those trips up and down the stairs from the attic and basement. Sandy tilted her head up, letting the water wash away the layers of dust and cobwebs that had accumulated on her sweat-soaked skin, vaguely wondering how Lenny had been able to stand being in the enclosed space of the car with her.

  There weren’t many things she was going to miss about Sumneyville, but Lenny was one of them. He’d always been nice to her, one of the few who hadn’t made fun of her or talked behind her back when her father skipped town with another woman or when, shortly after that, they discovered that her father had racked up a ton of debt from wining and dining his rich-bitch mistress instead of making the mortgage, utility, and car payments.

  Small towns did love their scandals, and her father had provided a lot of fodder for the local gossip mill. First, as the handsome bad boy who’d knocked up the shy, local girl, ruining her plans for college. Then, for his penchant for gambling and cons. And finally, for blowing town with some rich socialite he’d apparently met on one of his “business trips” and leaving his family in financial ruin.

  Sandy shut her eyes against the bitter memories of pointing fingers and hushed whispers of scandal.

  Lenny and his family were among the few who hadn’t jumped on the bandwagon. They’d been kind and supportive, there for her and her mother and her brother when they needed them most. For that, she would always be grateful.

  But she was also damn glad she was finally getting out.

  She’d dreamed of leaving for so long; it was hard to believe it was actually happening. Other than Lenny and Rico and Jeannie, she had no reason to stay. The town was run by the same old families, running the same old businesses and telling the same old stories.

  Sandy wanted more than that. She wanted a good job with opportunities for advancement. She wanted to meet people who didn’t know every detail of her life or family history. She wanted to learn and grow and maybe, just maybe, meet someone who made her heart beat fast and her blood sing.

  You already have, a small voice whispered in her head.

  A vision of Heff in his gorgeous, naked glory appeared in her head, and just like that, her body lit up from the inside out.

  That was purely physical, she countered, both irritated and turned on by the memory of his hands caressing her skin and the talented pull of those lips. It was doing something so reckless, so illicit, that had been so exciting, not him.

  Granted, he was a very good-looking man. And, yes, he was damn skilled in bed. But it had meant nothing, not to him and certainly not to her.

  Besides, she had plans. Big plans.

  Now that he’d invaded her thoughts again, however, she couldn’t help wondering if their paths would cross again before she left. With her countdown to freedom now in the single digits, it was unlikely.

  Sandy stemmed the slight pang of disappointment, irritated with herself, and toweled off. Even if she weren’t leaving, which she was, there was no future with someone like Heff.

  Well, except for the possibility of occasional, spectacular sex.

  If she’d learned anything from her mother’s mistakes, it was that good looks and sex appeal were not enough to base life decisions on.

  She shivered and tried to concentrate on the sound of Lenny’s voice carrying up from down below. Her stomach growled in response, reminding her of another more practical hunger. She pulled on some clean, comfy clothes and bounded down the stairs, the delicious smell of hot, fresh pizza spurring her on.

  When she reached the bottom, however, Sandy stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn’t the pizza delivery guy Lenny was talking to.

  The man beside Lenny was still Hollywood handsome. Clearly, the years—and his mistress’s money—had been good to him. He looked older than the last time she’d seen him, but there was no mistaking those eyes. They were the same ones she saw in the mirror every day.

  He stopped mid-sentence and offered her a tentative smile. “Hiya, pumpkin.”

  A wave of rage roared up at the pet name, wiping out everything else. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”

  Lenny looked between the two of them, pizza box in hand. “I’ll just put this in the oven.”

  “Don’t bother,” Sandy told him. “He won’t be staying long.”

  “Pumpkin ...”

  “Don’t call me that! You lost the right fifteen years ago.”

  “I see your mother did a good job of poisoning you against me.”

  The wave surged again. “No, you did that, Dad, when you walked away and didn’t look back.”

  Her father exhaled; his features sagged in weariness. “There’s so much you don’t understand, Cassandra.”

  “I understand I could have Lenny arrest you for trespassing.”

  His eyes opened wide. “It’s my house!”

  “The hell it is. The bank foreclosed six months after you left. If it hadn’t been for Lenny and his family, we would have been out in the street.”

  That seemed to surpri
se him, but it shouldn’t have. He was the one who’d emptied out the joint bank account and left them with nothing.

  “Last time I’m going to ask, what do you want?”

  He cast a look at Lenny, who, to his credit, had remained in the room, still clutching the pizza box and looking uncomfortable. There was no point in subjecting him to this any longer.

  She nodded. “Go ahead, Len. It’s okay.”

  Once Lenny exited into the kitchen, she pierced her father with a glare. “What. Do. You. Want?”

  He exhaled. “I need a favor.”

  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I’d do anything for you?”

  He winced but was quick to add, “It’s not for me. It’s for Kevin.”

  “Who the hell is Kevin?”

  Her father licked his lips. “Your brother.”

  Chapter Four

  Heff

  Heff sat down at the table and discreetly looked around the restaurant. Coming into town, coming here, was a bad idea.

  He’d made a mistake in sleeping with her, and no matter how okay she’d seemed about it in the heat of the moment, things often looked different the morning after. Misunderstandings crept in—or worse, feelings—and subsequent encounters were awkward.

  That was exactly why he had been such a good boy, keeping away from the town and the temptation it held, particularly in the form of one lovely brunette who made his eyes cross and made him want more.

  He shook those thoughts away and continued to scan the dining room, hoping-slash-dreading he’d see her again. Would she play it cool and act as if nothing had happened? Or would she get pissed when he did?