by Alison Kent
It was the first week of December. She’d been counting down the days until the lot opened because, by God, she’d have a tree even if she had to move her couch into the hallway to fit the tree in her five-hundred square foot apartment.
But it looked like she’d have to wait a few more hours until the lot was up and running. Maybe she’d grab a coffee and…
Her gaze went back to the guy and an unexpected heat rolled through her. Broad shoulders and a waist trim enough to make the hem of his shirt hang away from his body. The rip in his decade-old jeans right under his left butt cheek. The slight flap to the pocket where the thread lost its battle with time.
Oh, yeah. She knew that ass. Knew all of him, actually. Brown hair that brushed against his eyebrows, bright blue eyes and a stubborn streak to rival the obstinance of two eighty-year-old coal miners engaged in a political argument.
Austin Thomas. High school love, ex-boyfriend of six months who refused to stay ex, and the reason for the constant ache around her heart.
Her sneakers slipped against the slick sidewalk as she stumbled her way into a perfect furious stalk. Excitement and anger warred inside her with each breath. She tamped down on the white light of happiness that bloomed in her stomach just from seeing him and let the darker side of her emotions fuel her steps.
Five feet away, Austin spun around and shot her his best I’ve-been-waiting-for-you smile. The same one guaranteed to make her panties hit the floor and her common sense pack for vacation.
Oh, no. Not this time.
“What are you doing here?” She almost hated to look into his eyes because they possessed the super power of turning her witless.
“Working.”
“No.”
He peeled off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket. “No?”
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He got West Virginia in the break-up and she got D.C. She’d never said the parameters out loud, but she shouldn’t have to. Austin was an avowed city-hater. “We broke up.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”
They’d been on-and-off since high school. Separate colleges led them to date other people. When they both landed back home in Holloway more than three years ago, the comfortable pattern of hanging out turned into dating and sex and finally something much deeper. Then the offer from the National Museum of Women in the Arts came and she had to choose between the life she never believed she wanted and the one she spent years dreaming about.
“This time was for good.” She played with the coat button right at her stomach, sliding her fingers over the plastic until she accidentally twisted it off.
“You said that a year ago, then we kept dating. You said it again six months ago when you left Holloway. You wrote me a note that time explaining why. You even emailed to confirm I received it.” He cleared his throat. “Very organized of you, by the way.”
Admittedly, the email may have been overkill but she had to keep saying they were over or neither of them would believe it. Ten minutes together and they fell into old patterns of hanging out and laughing on the couch then finding a soft bed, which explained why she’d put a full state between them this time around. A woman couldn’t be too careful when it came to the one man who made her forget everything else.
“If you remember what happened between us and how we’re over and all, why are you here?” she asked.
“This is a lucrative spot for selling trees.”
He actually delivered the line with a straight face. Carrie rolled her eyes anyway.
“You’re trying to tell me you schlepped all the trees and equipment from the farm for a few extra bucks?” When he tried to talk over her, she held up a finger. “That you walked away from the nursery and your work, and just so happened to end up in the lot across from my apartment.”
He smiled until the dimple she loved so much appeared in his cheek. “Uh, how about I say yes and leave it at that.”
“No.” She waved her finger at him this time. “That whole adorable thing you do, with your head falling to the side while you flash me a big smile and rock back on your heels, isn’t going to work this time.”
If possible, he got even cuter. “I can live with that since we’ve established you still think I’m hot.”
“I said adorable.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard the word hot.”
He somehow managed to be hot and adorable and totally infuriating. He reminded her of the simple things she enjoyed in life, like fresh lemonade in summer and diving into the frigid lake at the first sign of spring. Like snowball fights and sipping hot chocolate while sitting with her feet on his lap and watching football, which usually included screaming at the television.
Loving him, enjoying time with him, getting all hot for him—those had never been a problem. But shifting into adulthood and balancing what she wanted to achieve with how hard he fought to keep everything the same had proven impossible until walking away became her only option.
“What you’re not hearing, Austin, is the ‘we’re over’ theme.”
He exhaled in that my-life-is-so-difficult way men locked in verbal battle with women did so well. “Because you want to live and work here instead of back home?”
“In part.”
“What’s the rest?”
To figure out who she was separate from him and the safety of the life she’d always known. To follow her dream of working in a big museum instead of a small regional one. To keep from looking back with regret five, ten or twenty years from now. To keep from seeing the regret and pain that danced in her mother’s eyes mirrored in her own one day.
The list exhausted her. “Haven’t we been through this?”
“You said I didn’t appreciate your career.”
That argument had gone on for two days, so she was sure she’d said more than that. “Talk about selective memory.”
“Do you still love me?”
He didn’t move but his presence closed in around her. This was what always happened. Her feelings for him overwhelmed her resolve and next thing she knew she was doubting her choices and looking at her clothes scattered all over the floor. She’d never been a slave to her hormones. She’d walked away from a guy in college who cheated on her and went a year without any physical contact when no one interested her. But something about Austin weakened her resolve to the point of breaking. She’d once tricked her brain into thinking she could enjoy sleeping with him while keeping a wall of protection around her heart. Now she knew better.
This time he physically moved. A hand brushed over her arm as he stepped in closer. “Well, Carrie. Do you?”
“How I feel about you isn’t really the point.” And her weakness for him wasn’t a question. She had to push him out of her memory to survive the days without him.
He treated her to a half snort, half guffaw sort of thing. “Uh, yeah. It is. It’s all that matters.”
He was a good man and determined enough to wait her out. He’d all but told her that when she walked away six months ago. She didn’t want to hurt him and being close to him all but guaranteed that. “Go home, Austin.”
“I’m good here.”
She slipped around him, heading for the coffee she now needed in an extra-large size. A stray thought had her turning back to face him. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?”
“You offering me your bed?”
“No.”
“Couch?”
“Still no.”
He shrugged. “I won’t take it personally.”
“Austin—”
He waved a hand in the air. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
Carrie ignored the non-answer and got back to walking. She made it the whole way across the street without looking back. The heat of his stare burned into her back, but she shoved her hands in her pockets and kept going. As she rounded her building and ducked out of sight, her mind crashed and her steps faltered. She slammed her back against the brick wall on the far side of the
complex and forced her brain to focus.
This can’t be happening. A sharp breath rushed out of her, taking the last of her energy with it.
“I can’t do this again,” she whispered, ignoring the worried stares of two older women as they passed.
She had bigger problems than looking like a crazy person. She depended on the distance from Austin to stay strong in her resolve. He hadn’t contacted her since the initial flurry right after she’d left Holloway. Every day she resisted calling his home number during work hours just to hear the sound of his voice on the answering machine. But the potency of the live version of Austin crashed through her control.
She wanted him to change, to want her back without quietly pushing her to give up her dreams. She didn’t want to be charmed and she definitely didn’t want to love him. Now she had to figure out how to make her heart listen.
Chapter Two
They’d made contact. Yeah, Carrie was half yelling at the time, but Austin still considered it progress of sorts.
“That went well.” Spence shut the door to the makeshift office and joined his brother in watching Carrie practically run from the lot.
“It’s a start.”
“Were we listening to the same conversation?”
Austin tore his gaze away from her ass and tugged his gloves back on. He’d waited months to see her again. He could hold out a few more days to touch her. “She thinks I don’t appreciate the things she cares about.”
“Whatever that means.”
Spence could identify plant species, had handpicked every choice in their hothouses and on the sales floor, and could classify every tree on the three hundred acres they owned along with their father. But women? Not his area of expertise.
Since the brothers lived together on the top two floors of the farmhouse in Holloway whose bottom floor served as the business office for Thomas Nurseries, Austin had a front-row seat to the parade of women Spence slept with then showed the door. The guy didn’t do commitment. He barely did overnights.
Austin tried to explain his position anyway. “Carrie is big on the boyfriend support thing.”
“Aren’t all women?”
The man had a point. “I guess that’s why you run away from them so fast.”
A sea of red crept up Spence’s neck to his cheeks. “When did we start talking about my love life?”
That topic needed months of dissecting and a therapist. Austin wasn’t touching it. “My point is I know Carrie’s issues and can handle them.”
Spence snorted as he dropped down on the step to the office. “Since she’s living here and you’re living two hours away, you might want to work on the way you handle things.”
“And since one of us actually needs to work so we can sell trees and make money, can you hand me that?” Austin pointed to the pocket knife on the ground next to Spence’s foot.
“I have a job. Landscaping, running a family business.” He kicked the closed knife in Austin’s direction. “Any of this sound familiar?”
“Mitch is handling everything back home with the business while I take care of my problem with his sister here.”
“And you think I don’t get women.” Spence muttered something about idiots.
“Meaning?”
“You have more than a problem with Carrie. You have a full-blown disaster.”
As Carrie’s brother, Mitch was the one member of the Anders family Austin could read and depend on not to pack up the car and run. When Mitch had let it slip his sister might be dating as part of her new city life, fury had burned through Austin. He’d almost ripped down the trees on the back ten of their property with his bare hands.
Then Mitch said something about Carrie not coming home for the holidays and Austin funneled all his anger into action. He’d been waiting for her to realize she missed him and return to Holloway on her own. But, damn, women could be stubborn, especially this one. This coming-to-her-senses thing was taking her forever.
Her lack of a reaction left him with few options. After all, a guy had to have some pride. Racing after a woman and begging her to come back carried the stink of desperation. Not his style. Yeah, he missed her like hell, but he was not about to lick her shoes and cry like some neutered stooge.
Visiting her now was a totally different thing. Not lame at all, or so he kept insisting in his head. The plan was simple. He’d remind her of what she was missing. Seeing him might jumpstart something. Get the clock moving again. Unless he went bankrupt first. The amount of money he’d had to pay to get the permit for this site made his head pound. The cash came out of his pocket because he couldn’t ask his brother and Mitch to front it. But when Carrie returned home and got settled it would be worth it.
“If she calls the cops on you for stalking, you’re on your own.” Spence jumped to his feet and reached for the nearest tree. “I don’t have extra money for bail, so don’t ask.”
“I’m not stalking.”
“You crossed state lines to hunt her down then set up shop outside of her window.” Spence shook his head. “What would you call it?”
Austin had to admit pieces sounded bad when Spence laid them out like that. “She’s hiding. If she were really over me, she wouldn’t do everything she could to keep from seeing me. She’d meet me head-on.”
“Your logic is nuts.”
No, he’d worked it all out in his head and it made sense. “Her pride is in the way. Once I get around that we’re good.”
“Now you sound like an egotistical prick.”
Austin’s confidence took a kick but he didn’t even flinch. “I’m being realistic.”
“If that were true I’d be at home right now.”
“Look, this will only take a few days then you can get back to the nursery.” Austin had to believe that was true. If he entertained the idea of life going on as it had since she left…well, it couldn’t happen. It was that simple.
“She broke up with you,” Spence said, as if he read his brother’s mind.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Several times. I’m not even talking about this time. There was that month when you were in college and she still was in high school. Then that other—”
“Are you done?”
Thanks to Carrie his family had joined in on drilling the break-up point home. But he knew what they didn’t. That they’d never really separated, not until she picked up and moved here. Even then she stared right at him and begged him to go with her. Instead of asking her stay or saying anything, he told her to leave if she had to and then fell into a drinking stupor when she actually listened and did it. Spence held the trunk of a five-foot pine and shot Austin one of those annoying older-brother looks. “The woman isn’t exactly being subtle here. That has me wondering how slow you are.”
When it came to Carrie, glacial. “She wants to be with me.”
“She’s hiding it well.”
“She needs to get the D.C. thing out of her system then we can get back to where we were before.”
“You mean before she took off.”
“Don’t make me kick your ass out here on the street where everyone can see you cry like a little girl.”
“Just saying love is making you stupid.”
Austin dropped the branch and let the tree he was holding fall back to the ground. “She ran because she was scared, not because we’re over.”
“Does she know that?”
“Give me one week.”
Spence snorted. “I already bet Mitch you’d be back in two weeks, all alone, so I’ll spot you an extra one.”
“Thanks for the support, man.”
“I love Carrie. I think you’re great when you’re actually together. Hell, I did a dance when she moved into your bedroom for those few months after Dad claimed the caretaker’s cottage as his new residence.” Spence shook his head. “And speaking of Dad, he keeps asking who’s going to take over the farm and nursery operation when he’s gone.”
The comment knocked Austin
mentally off stride. Dad had been grooming them ever since he insisted they major in environmental science and business if they wanted to have jobs to come home to after college. “Other than us?”
“He’s on the hunt for grandchildren and told me twice to get serious ‘because thirty is long enough to fuck around’—yeah, he said that.”
The rough-edged voice played in Austin’s head and he laughed. “I can almost hear him.”
“I’d throw you a damn party if you could get Carrie down the aisle. Would take some of the pressure off me.”
Since that was the plan, Austin didn’t argue. “Happy to help whenever I can.”
“Bottom line is no one is cheering harder for you than me.” Spence’s words tumbled to a halt. He stood there, staring off into the distance for a full thirty seconds before turning back to Austin. “I just think you’re missing the signals here. I’d rather see you go back home and find someone who’s not going to rip you apart.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, well, I’m the one who fished you out of the ten-day bar binge after she left six months ago. The one who had to call Dad when everything went to shit.”
Every day of those lost two weeks fell into a mental black hole. Austin remembered the beginning and turning to a bottle of scotch before working his way through a case. He drank at home and at work. He’d stayed in the town’s only bar until it closed and waited in desperation until it opened again the next day.
Losing her had carved out a piece of him the liquor couldn’t fill, though God knew he tried. If he was a different guy, and if he’d listened to Spence’s advice back then, he would have screwed his way out of his anger over Carrie’s decision to go. Let a long line of faceless women wash away her memory. Instead he’d turned to the bottle.
Or he had until he ran the tractor into the property’s pond and sank it to the bottom. It didn’t matter that he was twenty-eight and a grown man, or that he worked in a dangerous occupation, spending most of the day at the top of trees. He drank for ten solid days and kicked around in a haze for four more before that. But on that last drunken day, with his car keys in his hand, he headed toward his truck. Only a flash of common sense sent him to the barn instead. He saw the tractor and decided it would be brilliant to race it all over their land, saving him from hurting someone else.