Love At First Ink: A Woodbine Valley Romance (Tate Family Book 1)

by Bridgid Gallagher

  "What?" Evan asked.

  "You heard me. Mom is buying Oak Bramble. If she goes for it, I’m thinking of adding a restaurant to the place. Maybe expand the gardens, make it a farm-to-table kind of thing. It won’t be as big as your project, but it’s the kind of thing I could feel good about and … I could use a partner.”

  Evan chuckled. Then he paused. "You serious?"

  “As a heart attack.“

  Evan whistled low. “A restaurant, huh? The Asheville tourists love that farm-to-table stuff. Did you talk to Amy about the plants? I bet she’d beg you to run the garden.“

  “Thought of that. Haven’t asked her yet, though.”

  “You’d make more money doing something else.”

  “Yep.”

  Evan sighed. “This is a big risk. I thought you were done with those. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Justin bristled. "You want to work with me or not?" he grumbled.

  Evan whistled low. "This about that girl Mom keeps bringing up? Never mind. Don't answer that. I don't want to know." He took a breath. "Go back to good ol’ Woodbine Valley? I don’t know …”

  "It's not the Stone Age back here," Justin said with a grin his brother couldn't see. "We have running water and everything. Booming tourism, too. The town's not what you remember," he added. "There are investments to be made here. Good ones.”

  His brother made a sound, something between a grunt and a sigh. Justin knew he was interested. He also knew Evan hated their hometown.

  "I'll think about it," Evan said at last.

  "Do that." Justin spotted a familiar face. "Listen, I gotta go."

  He ended the call with Evan promising to consider the offer. His brother sounded thoughtful but hesitant. Either way, Justin had a good feeling about the conversation. It was a loose end tied up.

  Justin turned to meet the only person who could get him to show up at a place like the Bohemian on a Friday night. A tall redhead strode through the crowd. Her bright hair was swept into a high twist around her head, and light caught the many piercings in her ears and nose. Tattoos lit up her pale skin and her tailored men’s dress shirt and pants didn’t do a thing to make her look less feminine.

  "You finally deign to meet with me, and now you don't look happy to see me," she said. Her voice was a low, familiar rasp. When she leaned in, he kissed her cheek.

  "I'm happy," he said.

  After the thing with Elle, he’d called Lynn to ask her to meet him. It was time. Beyond time.

  "Well don't bite my head off," Lynn shot back.

  "Can we start over?"

  "Fine. What are you drinking?"

  "Whiskey. Neat."

  She raised a pierced brow. "What's her name?"

  "I don't like you."

  "You love me."

  Lynn turned to the bartender, a young, skinny guy with acne, who rushed down the bar to help her. "I'll have the opposite of what he's having," she said to him. "Make it sweet. Pink would be good. Add an umbrella and I'll kiss you."

  Once the bartender rushed away like an ungainly colt, Lynn turned back to Justin.

  "Tell me everything," she said. "Including the sexy parts, okay? I've been on tour with the same guys for two years now. I need this. Don't leave anything out."

  Justin sighed.

  “There’s something I need to say first.”

  Lynn eyed him warily. “Like what?”

  She waited.

  Justin had to force out the words. “I want to apologize. For Adam.”

  She blinked. “Apologize? Why in the hell would you do that?”

  “It’s my fault,” he said. “I should have been there. I knew he was getting into drugs. I knew about the women. I should have told you.”

  Lynn’s mouth twisted. “I knew,” she said.

  It took Justin a moment to understand what she was saying. “What?”

  “About the women. And the drugs. I loved him. We lived a thousand miles away. We had an understanding. I didn’t love it, but this is Adam we’re talking about. Loving the man meant accepting his terms. But that doesn’t matter now.”

  The server arrived with Lynn’s drink. She took a long sip.

  Justin waited.

  “I knew who he was, Jus,” she said. “And he wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over his choices. He lived the way he wanted to. I was heartbroken when he died, but I never for one second blamed you.”

  He ran a hand over his face.

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself either. And if this is the reason you’ve been avoiding me for the last two years, then get ready for my latest hit song. Spoiler: it’s going to be about how shitty that is.”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You are.” Her eyes glistened, and she sniffed. The idea that he’d hurt her by burying his head in the sand hit him. He’d never meant to hurt her. He had thought it would be so much better if he stayed away.

  “I’m sorry, Lynn.”

  “S’okay. Don’t do it again.”

  They were quiet then. Each with their own thoughts, sipping their drinks.

  It was one of the things Justin liked about Lynn. She didn’t say much, but the words she did say were enough.

  “We good?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  Lynn took another sip of her drink. When she put down her glass, she turned to him. “Great. Now, tell me about the woman. Remember.” She added an eyebrow-waggle, making one of her piercings jump. “I want the good parts.”

  Elle met her family at Asheville's Grand Bohemian Hotel. She was running late, thanks to Caroline’s last-minute request for Elle to tidy up at the church after the rehearsal. The entire wedding party had been in attendance, and everything went off with a smooth and practiced air. That, or everyone was too afraid of the mother of the bride to do anything that might be deemed out of line.

  Elle wore the dress and shoes she'd promised to wear for the rehearsal. Both were an echo of what she'd be wearing for the wedding, and both pinched. She shifted in her shoes and tried to find her family. They might still be at the bar, otherwise, they would be taking over a table in the restaurant.

  That's when she saw him.

  Justin.

  It was as though her heart knew it was him before her brain caught up. Tingles ran out from her stomach and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. She traced the strong line of his shoulders beneath his tee shirt—she would venture to guess that his was the only tee shirt at the Bohemian—and the familiar tufts of hair sticking out from beneath one of his beat up baseball hats. His tattooed forearms were crossed, and he was speaking to someone.

  Not just anyone, but a woman with firetruck red hair. She wore men’s clothes, making them look stylish and chic. The woman laughed, letting her long neck arch back.

  She studied Justin's response. He was smiling, but it wasn't the secret, slow smile she'd decided was just for her. It was rueful. Like he was the butt of some joke Elle suddenly was desperate to know.

  Then he looked up.

  Their eyes met, and Elle took a step forward, ready to say something, anything to fill the Justin-sized hole in her heart.

  "Elle! Where have you been?" Caroline snatched at Elle's arm, her nails scratching the skin. She tugged until Elle dropped her gaze and started to follow. “Dinner has started."

  Caroline glanced over to where Justin sat.

  ”They let just about anyone in here," Caroline said with a sniff. She said it loud enough, Elle wondered if he’d heard. She closed her eyes, willing the heat of embarrassment away from her cheeks.

  Justin turned back to the redhead.

  Caroline tugged again. Elle wanted to march over to Justin and demand he explain to her why he was ignoring her texts. But she wasn’t certain she deserved his response. Or that she’d want to hear what he had to say.

  So instead, Elle let her mother lead her to their private table, telling herself it was better this way.

  Chapter 21

/>   Elle sat through the rehearsal dinner with her family, but her mind was somewhere else. She could see the back of Justin's arm if she leaned back her chair, which meant she had a nasty crick in her neck from doing just that. She wondered about the redhead. Who was she? Why did she have to be so sexy? Was this was heartbreak felt like?

  She missed Justin.

  Elle wanted to watch his smile light up when he saw her, or when she made him laugh. She wanted to walk with him through the forest to hidden swimming holes and sit with him and watch the sun set over the mountains.

  "You doing okay, sweet pea?" her father leaned over, giving them a modicum of privacy. Caroline was regaling the table with tales of Lucy's time volunteering at a hospital in Texas. Playing it up to Lucy’s almost-in-laws. Lucy and Smith exchanged an amused glance.

  "Yes, Daddy,” she said. "Thanks."

  He nodded, as though she'd delivered some important information. "You know, that young man you mentioned is something else."

  Elle's gaze sharpened. "What young man?"

  "The one you stayed with," he said. "He's a prominent member of the community up here, you know. A friend in the area said he helped rebuild the elementary school when a big storm hit last year.”

  Elle's attention was on her father. “You mean Justin Tate?“ she asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  She tilted her head. “Daddy, did you ask your friends to look into him?”

  “In a way, yes,” he said. “I have to say, from what I’ve heard, he sounds like a good man. No matter what you might have thought about his appearance when you first met him, that’s not nearly as important as being trustworthy and hardworking.”

  “Mother would have a fit if she heard you say that. She wouldn’t think he was good people.”

  “True,” he said. He sighed, then cleared his throat. “When you were young I spent far too much time working and not enough with you girls. I thought your mother knew what was best for you, but now ... I believe that was wrong.

  “Don't let your mother's opinions dictate your own. She won't be there when you are old and gray. It'll just be you and the results of the choices you make."

  Elle looked down at her satin dress and pumps. The fabric dug into her armpits and her feet were swollen. Her shapewear felt like a straightjacket. She hadn't eaten much dinner because the idea of making her dress any tighter was unbearable. Down the table, Caroline laughed, her voice high and forced.

  “It’s not what’s holding me back,” Elle said. “I know he’s a good man. I think I’m too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I tried texting him. I tried apologizing. He hasn’t said a word.”

  “Did you call him?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Did you go to his house and bang on his door?”

  She shook her head.

  “Elle. You hurt his pride. From what you told me, it sounds as though he let you in, and you threw it in his face.”

  She winced at the truth in her father’s words.

  He gentled his voice. “It’s going to take a lot more than a few texts to get him to trust you again. You need to show him that you’re worth the risk.”

  Elle was at a loss. “But how, Daddy? He won’t even talk to me.”

  "Do you love him?" her father asked.

  She wanted to cry. “How did you know?"

  He shrugged. "I've been watching a lot of Oprah in my retirement."

  Elle managed to laugh.

  “You have to tell him, sweetheart. He might not give you the answer you want, but you have to find a way to make him listen. After that, it’s up to him.”

  She glanced over to see Justin and his date leaving the bar. Her heartbeat quickened to a sickening thump in her chest. "There's something I need to do," she said, still looking at Justin.

  "I thought you might say that," her father said, eyes twinkling. "Go get him."

  She stood abruptly from the table.

  "Excuse me," she said to no one and everyone. Her attention was glued on Justin; the way he walked, how the corner of his mouth quirked at something the redhead said.

  "Where are you going?" Caroline asked, breaking Elle's attention.

  "I need to speak with someone," she said. All eyes at the table were on her. She forced herself to stand tall, to not slink back into her chair and do the polite thing.

  “Who could possibly be so important to make you leave the table?” Caroline demanded, narrowing her thin eyebrows to dart-like points. “We're about to start the toasts."

  “To be honest, Mother, since you asked, I need to speak to that very sexy tattooed man over there.”

  Her mother’s face turned a shade of purple Elle had never seen before.

  “You see,” Elle told the table. “We slept together and then I treated him like he didn’t matter. All because I’ve been told since I was a little girl that money, social status, and appearances matter more than happiness.” She stared her mother in the eye. “And you know what? That is absolute crap.”

  "Sit down, Elle,” Caroline ground out between her teeth.

  "No, Mother. This is important." To Lucy and Smith, Elle added, “I’m sorry for the interruption you two.”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “It’s no problem,” Smith said.

  Caroline leaned over the table, her fingernails digging into the white linen tablecloth. But before Caroline could say a word, Elle’s father spoke up.

  "The toasts can wait, Caroline. This can’t.” He stood at Elle's shoulder, a solid, strong presence. "Better go,” he said to Elle. “Or you'll lose your chance."

  The rest of the wedding guests were either aghast or amused. Either way, Elle didn’t care.

  Lucy’s voice rose above the rest, strong and sure. “Go get ‘im, Elle!”

  Elle blew a kiss to her sister.

  Before she left the table, she turned to her father.

  "You're the best," she whispered. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  "You owe me," he whispered back.

  She stepped away, ignoring her mother's protests. Elle knew what she had to do now, and it all hinged on getting to Justin before it was too late.

  Night had fallen outside of the Bohemian, and street lamps cast warm circles of light on the pavement. It was a warm night, and the hotel's windows were thrown open to let in fresh air. Just inside, a group crowded a long table. An older couple was bickering, and their voices trickled into the street, grating on Justin and reminding him why single was simple. Single was good.

  "Love is never a good idea, you know,” Lynn said, bringing his attention back to her.

  "Who said anything about love?" he returned in a dry voice. Leave it to a musician to make things complicated and dramatic. "We weren't compatible. End of story."

  Lynn stepped close. The heavy eye makeup she wore made her blue eyes stand out—but it was her knowing look that pinned him to the sidewalk. "Remember when we were kids and I talked about my music?"

  "Yeah," he said, he shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So?"

  "So you told me to go for it. To work hard. Then, when I worked my ass off but was too scared to do anything about it, you told me to risk it all." Her smile turned sad. “You and Adam—always daring me to risk it big.”

  Justin jerked his chin, a small movement to show he was listening.

  “The two of you said if I didn't, then I'd regret it forever."

  "I also told you girls had cooties."

  "Yeah, okay. So you were only smart some of the time."

  They shared a smile.

  "Adam wasn't your fault," Lynn said, her voice soft. "He'd want you to be happy. And right now, I think you need to take your own damn advice. Jus, this girl might break your heart in two, or she might be the best thing that ever happened to you. But you won’t find out unless you risk big.”

  Justin lifted his shoulders as though a cold wind hit his back. He didn't say anything. Lynn huffed out a
sigh.

  "Well," she said. "I'll leave you two alone."

  He snapped his gaze to her. "Two?"

  She jerked her chin. Justin looked over his shoulder.

  It took him a moment to recognize Elle. She was wearing something shiny and fancy. Pink. She looked like a modern day princess.

  Then he met her gaze.

  His heart stuttered. The walls slammed down.

  "What are you doing here?" he grumbled.

  Lynn's laugh floated by as she reached out a hand to Elle. "I'm Lynn," she said. "A friend. And I'm going now. Have fun.”

  Elle took her hand and made a weak smile as Lynn took off.

  "She's ... interesting," Elle said. "In a good way," she rushed to add.

  Justin grimaced. "It's okay," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He saw her glance at his forearms. "I know your thoughts on tattoos. I'm sure you have things to say about her piercings too.”

  Elle eyed the windows of the restaurant. He didn't want to look, but the expression on her face—fear?—made him turn. The people at the long table, including the bickering couple, were now glued to the window. Watching and listening to their exchange.

  Puzzle pieces came together.

  He turned to Elle and asked, "Know them?"

  She sighed. "My family."

  He nodded. "Better get back then," he said.

  Elle opened her mouth. Closed it. Pursed her lips.

  Justin fought a desire to reach out and pull her close. To kiss away whatever made her wrinkle up her nose just then. He wanted to take her to his place and never let her out of his sight again.

  Even the thought made him angry. With her, with himself, with the whole damn world.

  "Look, I gotta run. You need something?" He made his voice harsh and sharp.

  "I have something to say," she said.

  "So say it."

  Her eyes darted to the people at the windows.

  “I’m not gonna hide," he said. "You have something to say, you say it right here."

  "I will," she shot back. "Just shut up so I can talk."

  He rocked back on his heels.

  "I didn't want to fall in love with you," she said, her voice fast and full. Loud enough it would carry to the eager ears inside the restaurant. "You have a surly attitude and like pissing me off. You're a grown man, but you live in a toolshed. Your truck is an embarrassment—“