by Emma Renshaw
“See how ridiculous you looked?” I ask him, even though I didn’t think he looked ridiculous at all.
“You certainly did not look ridiculous, Savannah,” he says in a low sexy voice. He’s staring at my lips. Heat sizzles between us.
“So,” I say a little awkwardly. “What brought you back here?”
“I wanted to be closer to my family,” he tells me. “I missed them. Although, my mother and sister let themselves into my place this morning, so they could furnish it for me. I wasn’t so sure I missed them when they woke me up.” He has a grin on his face, telling me that he loves to have his family close. The butterflies zooming in my stomach pick up their pace while my heart screams at my brain, He’s a good guy! We want him!
“They’re furnishing it for you? You didn’t have any furniture in Chicago?”
“Yeah, they own Southern Charm Interiors, so they wouldn’t take no for an answer even if I tried. I decided it would be easier to start over with new stuff down here instead of hiring a moving company. Probably cost about the same, too. I sold everything—furniture, car, condo.”
“Wow,” I say.
“Yeah, but it’s been fun buying new stuff,” he says with a boyish grin. He looks down at his watch. “Savannah, I’ve had fun talking to you, but I have to go. My mom and sister sent me out for breakfast, I need to get their coffee and food back to them.”
“Of course,” I nod with a smile, hating that I’m wishing he could stay.
“After I saw you here, I talked myself into making them wait just a few minutes. I’d love to take you out sometime.”
I hesitate before responding. He’s been nice to talk to and I don’t want him to leave. I’m relishing the feelings he’s stirring up inside of me, but after my disastrous date the other night and all the disasters that came before him, I’m not sure I want to get back in that saddle. Also, Liam goes to my gym, and I won’t date someone from my gym. That place gave me so much when I needed it. I don’t ever want to put James in a position where he has to kick someone out because I had a bad date. Raise the Bar is my safe haven. I don’t want to risk being uncomfortable there.
“I like talking with you, too. I can’t go out with you, though. I’m sorry.” I truly am sorry. Wishes of a different past and a different future won’t make my reality any different, though.
His smile falters a bit, but it’s back in place before I can read any emotion other than the determination settling in his eyes. “Can we at least be friends?”
I nod. “Of course.” Friends. I can do friends. I’m almost positive I can be a normal friend.
“I do need to get their food ordered and back to them. I hope I see you soon, Savannah. If you change your mind, let me know. My dinner offer stands.”
“Thanks for breakfast.”
“Anytime.” He gives me one last devastatingly handsome smile before walking up to the counter. I can’t tear my eyes away from his perfectly taut ass in those jeans. His order comes quickly. I probably would, too. I need to stop reading those steamy romances. Or read more of them. He gives me a gorgeous smile and waves as he walks out the door. Possibly hotter—and sweeter—than a cinnamon roll.
6
LIAM
I walk up the porch steps of my house, finding all hell has broken loose inside. My mom and sister are the eye of the hurricane, commanding every man in the room with authority. Their backs are to each other as they give instructions to different people. Both of their left arms are pointing, while their right arms are waving around in explanation. I step closer to them and hear that not only are they commanding the men in front of them, but talking to each other, too.
“I’m back,” I call over the noise.
“What took you so damn long? I’m starving!”
I don’t answer, unable to think of a good excuse while my brain is occupied by a sexy-as-sin woman. I hand my mom her coffee and my sister her coffee with the bag of cinnamon rolls. She’s holding the bag between two fingers of the same hand holding her coffee cup.
“What’d you get? It smells delicious.” Her arm is in the bag as she roots around for the goods. A rabid expression is on her face while she’s trying to find the food. She looks like a raccoon scouring for a morsel. Olivia never handles being overly hungry well, she gets extremely moody when deprived of food. I put my hand under the bag as the corner between her fingers starts to rip.
“Just something that will seal my title as the greatest brother alive,” I tell her, smirking.
With help from my hand supporting the bag, she finally gets her hand on the delicious treat. She pulls it out, eyes going wide, mouth parting. A grin stretches across my face, but she suddenly bursts into tears.
“Uh...” I stammer, looking around nervously. I have never handled my sister crying well. Any time a tear would leak from her eye, she had me in the palm of her hand. When she found this out, Olivia learned how to make herself cry and used it to her advantage by tricking me into situations or coercing me into confessing her sins to our parents. When I caught her smirking as I told our parents it was me who broke the kitchen window, I quickly learned which tears were real and which were fake. But I would do anything to protect her.
“I can get something else, Livie. I’m sorry I was gone so long.” Guilt is seeping into my gut. I shouldn’t have left my mom and sister hanging to talk to a woman, but I couldn’t resist Savannah any more than I could resist a cinnamon roll. Still though, seeing my sister’s huge brown eyes, so much like my own, but more innocent, looking up at me with tears still welling in them, I wish I had gotten here a little sooner. Maybe she doesn’t like cinnamon rolls anymore, I think to myself. No, that’s crazy. Who wouldn’t love those?
My mom is now holding my sister, whispering in her ear. The room has gone mostly quiet. I look around, many of the men are avoiding eye contact with my sister, obviously uncomfortable. There are a few shooting glares at me for making a woman cry. I stare back hard. This is my sister, they can step off.
“What do you want, Olivia? I’ll go get something else. It’s no trouble.”
“No, this is perfect,” she says as a wave of fresh tears leaks from her eyes. “It was so perfect that it made me cry.”
I stare at her, extremely confused.
“I’m pregnant.” Her face falls into her hands as she starts crying harder.
I pull her into my arms. “Livie! That’s wonderful! Congratulations! I still don’t understand why you’re crying, though.”
“Hormones,” she says against my chest. I still have her face pressed there, and I’m swinging her back and forth, like we’re kids again. My mom doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. She’s just beaming at us. This is exactly why I came back, to be here for these moments, to be here for my family.
7
SAVANNAH
I walk into The Cellar, scanning for an empty table. It has an upscale feel but is rustic and cozy. The bar in the center of the room is made of large wood planks and a white marble top.
A substantial wooden structure covered in green ivy takes up the back of the bar, forming a large wine rack. Large barrels of whiskey are suspended in the air. The Cellar is known for its vast selection of wine, whiskey, and craft beer.
A small, round stage is set up on the left side where people perform some nights and weekends. Soft music floats through the air. I nab our secluded booth in the far-right corner, opposite the bar and stage. I don’t bother looking for Harper or Valerie. They’re perpetually late.
I sit in the booth, perusing the wine list. We come here once or twice a week. Valerie tells her husband it’s a book club, but we hardly ever talk about books. I’m not sure why she tells him this; he knows we’re here to drink wine and eat good cheese. He’s our ride home when we’ve indulged too much. And we do tend to indulge.
The wine list is extensive at The Cellar. I like to try something different each time, switching back and forth between red and white. We each order a bottle. It’s our own private thre
e-hour wine tasting event.
A purse slams down on the table. Harper has arrived. She doesn’t look like her usual effortless self. Tangled nest-like hair falls over half of her face, almost hiding the black smears around her bloodshot eyes. Her favorite silk blouse with the yellow and pink flowers has an ugly black mark across the front, and I can’t help but notice dried blood around the new holes in the knees of her designer skinny jeans.
“You look like you’re having a great day,” I say sarcastically, unable to stop myself. I reach out to see if she’s okay.
She puts her finger up like she’s about to wag it in my face. “Don’t.”
My eyes widen in surprise, my mouth opening to respond, but she cuts me off with a growl. “Just don’t. No sass today.”
I quirk an eyebrow, holding a reply with suppressed curiosity.
“Order me a shot of whiskey, please. I’m going to straighten myself out.” She stomps off toward the bathroom before I can say anything. The waiter doesn’t usually come over until all of us arrive. He knows our routine, so I walk up to the bar and ask for two double shots of whiskey.
“Want me to send the waiter over?” The bartender pushes the shots across the bar toward me.
“No, just this for now. He can come by when we’re all here.” I raise the glasses in a silent thank-you. I walk back to the table with the shots. If she doesn’t want both, I will have no trouble downing the second shot.
Harper comes back looking completely different. She’s now in a burgundy dress. The top has delicate straps and the dress flares at her hips. She’s changed the wedges into suede, nude booties. Her make up is flawless, and her hair is smooth.
“You have magical powers.” I look at her purse again. It isn’t small, but it also doesn’t look large enough to contain the transformation I am witnessing. “You had all that on you?”
She gives me a look and tosses her hair over one shoulder. “I don’t leave the house without a backup outfit.”
“How do you fit that in your purse?”
She just shrugs. “Give me my shot.”
I push both doubles across the table. “Thought you might need more than one.”
“You’re right,” she says before slamming the first back. She doesn’t even bat an eye. I make the face for her, reminded of how the burn feels. She looks at me and points to the second glass.
“Yours if you want it.”
She doesn’t hesitate to slam that one back.
“Bad day?” Valerie walks up to the table as Harper downs the whiskey.
“You should have seen her a few minutes ago.”
Valerie slides into the booth next to Harper. As she gets settled, our usual waiter, Owen, comes over. He is a few years younger, in his early twenties. His blonde hair is cropped on the sides, with a stylish mop on top of his head. His eyes are a crystal blue, and his smile is devilishly charming.
“My favorite ladies. Y’all look fucking perfect tonight.” He looks at us with a grin, eyes dropping to each chest. No shame.
He leans on the table. “What are y’all havin’ tonight?” His southern drawl is intoxicating.
We each order a bottle of wine, an appetizer, and top it off with a cheese tray. He winks at us as he walks away.
“That boy is shameless.” Valerie stares at him as he saunters off.
“That he is,” I say. “He’s going to give some woman a run for her money one day.”
“He’s probably going to enchant some rich old lady and become her sugar baby,” Harper says. “You see the way women eat him up.”
We all laugh. I wouldn’t be too surprised if that wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Tell us what happened, Harper,” Valerie says.
Val and I turn our full attention to Harper. Her hands are in her lap, fingers twisted. Her breathing is choppy like she’s holding back tears. She blinks a few times quickly, takes a deep breath, then looks at us.
“When I walked into the store this morning, the phone was ringing. I ignored it while I was putting down my things, but it kept ringing. It was my landlord at the store. He wanted to talk about the future of my store. He went on and on about the market and said I’m renting the space for a steal. He’s coming in to talk to me soon about new rent prices. He’s going to raise them so high I’ll have to find a new space.”
“Did you know he was planning to raise the price?”
“No!” Harper screeches, placing her elbows on the table and running her hands through her hair. She looks back up, “I saw him a couple of weeks ago when he was performing a routine inspection. He didn’t say a word.”
“That is crazy!” Valerie says. “There has to be some assurance you will be okay. Why would he not mention this more in advance? Have you talked to the other businesses?”
“No, I haven’t. I was slammed today. I got the impression something brought this on suddenly and quickly. He didn’t give me much of an explanation, which is weird because he’s usually so damn talkative.”
I place my hand over hers, now resting on the table. “Don’t freak out. You don’t know his plans. Maybe nothing will change, and it will be fine.”
She nods, sniffling a bit, but still no tears fall. “I know. I kept telling myself that today. I’m not going to worry until there is something to worry about.”
“Good,” Valerie says. “That does sound like a rough day.” She rubs Harper’s back, leans in and gives her a quick side hug.
The waiter comes back to the table, delivering three bottles of wine with appetizers and cheese. After he walks away, I say, “That doesn’t explain your appearance when you arrived.” We each take a sip of all the wine, debating which is the best.
“Well, my fucking car broke down.”
“What? Why didn’t you call? Where did it break down?”
“Just down the street. Flat tire, smoking engine. I was going to be early, but then that happened. I tried fixing it, but no luck.”
“You know how to fix cars?” I ask.
“I know a thing or two,” she says nonchalantly. “I called a tow to come get it. It will be fine. I’ll just need a ride home with you, Sav.”
“I guess you’re not too far out of my way,” I wink at her.
“Look at all that muscle,” Valerie says.
Harper and I give her a look, but she is looking toward the bar. My back is toward the bar, and the booth back is high, so I can’t see in that direction.
“I haven’t seen him before,” Harper says. “Damn.”
I lean out of the booth to see who they’re looking at. James, Hudson, and Liam are getting settled on stools at the bar top. I tuck back into the booth, not wanting to be seen, and stay silent. I know that newcomer.
8
LIAM
I sit at the bar with James and Hudson, sipping on a glass of whiskey. We have been sitting here for a while, tasting different whiskeys from the menu. Hudson has been catching me up on everything I’ve missed the last few years. James sits quietly listening, grunting in response when Hudson prompts him.
“James is hosting a dinner for the neighborhood families on Saturday night. You should swing by. He could use a few more hands. It’s always a good time.”
I look to James. He is looking down at his beer bottle, peeling the label. He nods, but I don’t think he is listening to us.
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“You know Monica still lives here.” Hudson waggles his eyebrows. I suppress a groan. Monica was a high school fling. She was my girlfriend for all of a week. I went over to her house after school, lost my virginity, and fell asleep. I woke up to her cutting a piece of my hair. I hastily got out of there and have been avoiding her ever since. Every time I come back to town, I usually see her somewhere. She tries to talk to me, but I do my best to ignore her.
Hudson shares the hair-cutting incident with James, who throws back his head and laughs. “That’s fuckin’ crazy, man. You gotta avoid that kind of crazy.”
A loud cackling cu
ts through the bar. Everyone turns and looks. I cut back to James and Hudson with wide eyes. James is wearing a full grin, and Hudson is smirking. James gets off his stool. “Let’s go see them.”
“Who?” I ask. Neither James nor Hudson answers my question, but I follow them to the back corner booth.
Savannah has her arms curled around her stomach. She’s cackling. I can’t believe that loud laugh comes from her small frame. She laughs with her whole body. Her hair is hiding her face. I can’t stop the grin from taking over my expression.
“Ladies,” Hudson greets the table. Savannah is sitting across from two women. Her head pops up, her gaze immediately locking with mine. My grin widens when her eyes drop to take me in. Her gaze sweeps over me and lands back on my face. I take my turn scanning her. I can’t see all of her because she’s hidden by the table, but she is stunning. Her long brown hair is curled down her back. One eyebrow arches over one of her green eyes. A smirk is playing on her full, pink lips. She’s wearing a dark dress with thin straps. Her creamy skin is on display. The front of the dress dips into a V, showing her ample cleavage. The table cuts off the rest of her, but I’m dying to know where the dress stops on her legs.
Hudson slides in next to her two friends and pops a piece of bread into his mouth. “Mind if we join you?”
“You can join us,” the girl with the curly hair says. “If you take off your shirt.”
Savannah and the girls burst into laughter again. Savannah’s loud laugh echoes through the space.
Hudson shrugs. He reaches his arm behind his head and starts to pull his shirt over. The blonde next to him stops him by slapping a hand over his arm.
“Oh, my god! Stop! You can’t do that here!” The girls are still laughing. Hudson smiles and pops another piece of bread in his mouth. I take the opportunity to slide in next to Savannah. I catch James looking at us from my peripheral vision, but I don’t turn his way. My focus is only on Savannah. Her cheeks turn pink under my scrutiny.