Hometown Troublemaker

by Brighton Walsh

  A week before school starts, Hudson proposes a trip away with Mackenna as one last weekend together before college responsibilities creep in. Except it could be one last weekend together, period. Because the secret he's been keeping from her could tear them apart forever.

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from Pact with a Heartbreaker!

  Pact with a Heartbreaker Excerpt

  August 2009

  August in Mississippi was unbearable. But after living in Havenbrook her whole life, Mackenna Haven had learned what was worth suffering the heat for. And the single night of entertainment their tiny town put on that she and her friends wouldn’t roll their eyes at? Well, that was worth all the boob sweat in the world. Which meant she’d be down at the high school football field tonight, enjoying the monthly movie night along with nearly every other resident, heat be damned. The only difference between her and everyone else? This would be her last time.

  Come next week, she was finally getting out of her tiny hometown, and she wasn’t sure she was ever coming back.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d felt stifled by Havenbrook and the people in it. Everyone knew everyone else, and everyone was in everyone else’s business—and that only went double for a Haven. It was exhausting.

  She never could understand her eldest sister’s need to put down roots here. Rory couldn’t get back fast enough—so much so, Mac was surprised she’d even gone away to college in the first place. But as soon as Rory had graduated, she and her college sweetheart came right back to good old Havenbrook and settled down. Bought a house and had already started on their way to that two-point-five kid average.

  But Mac? She wasn’t sure she could think of anything more awful than coming back once she finally escaped.

  How important their hometown was to their family had been beaten into her and her three sisters’ heads from as far back as she could remember—after all, they put the Haven in Havenbrook. But as near as Mac could tell, Rory was the only one it’d actually gotten through to. Mac’s older sister and one of her best friends, Willow, had had plans to leave and never look back. Head to Nashville for art school. But then Will’s no-good, lying bastard of a boyfriend up and bailed without a word shortly before they were meant to leave together. Mac was just glad Willow’d gone off anyway—a different, closer school, sure, but at least she’d left.

  And her younger sister, Natalie? That girl would need to be hog-tied if you expected her to stay put anywhere. It’d be a damned miracle if their momma and daddy could keep her in Havenbrook long enough to graduate high school. Nat was born to fly, and she talked about all the places she wanted to visit and explore every chance she got.

  All Mac knew was once she headed off to MSU next week, it was going to be a hard feat getting her back to Havenbrook for short breaks, let alone any extended period of time.

  “Mac, you ready?” Will asked as she poked her head into the bedroom they shared. “Daddy says if we’re goin’, we gotta take Nat with us, ’cause he’ll be busy interactin’ with everyone.”

  “I think you mean bullshittin’. And ’course we do.” Mac rolled her eyes. She and Will both knew exactly what that meant. Nat would escape them the first chance she got, and then they’d be blamed for her recklessness. “It’s like Daddy just looks for ways to get on our cases. He and Momma can’t control her, so I don’t know why he thinks we can.”

  “You know Daddy—always the optimist.”

  Mac snorted as she followed Will into the hallway and down the staircase. Their daddy could be called a lot of things, but optimist most certainly wasn’t one.

  “’Bout time y’all got down here,” Nat said, her fifteen-year-old attitude ringing loud and clear in the tone of her voice. “Been waitin’ for years.”

  “Shut up, Nat.”

  “Girls!” their daddy snapped. Never did have any tolerance for them fighting—in or out of the house. Anything that put on less than a perfect show simply wasn’t allowed in the Haven household. “I expect y’all to be home before curfew. Since you’re takin’ Nat, that means eleven o’clock.”

  Mac’s mouth dropped open at the same time Will’s snapped shut. Yep, just like always, she’d be fighting this one on her own. But dammit, she was eighteen years old, and next week, she’d be living on her own. Why in the world did she have a curfew? “You can’t be serious, Daddy.”

  “Do I look like I’m jokin’, young lady?”

  A thousand retorts flew through Mac’s head. But, just like always, that was exactly where they stayed. Without another word, she spun on her heels, whipped open the door, and stormed out into the thick blanket of heat and humidity.

  Mac tried to keep a lid on her anger, but the three of them weren’t even to the end of their front walk before she exploded, turning an accusing finger toward Will. “Why don’t you ever say anything? You do whatever he wants without thinkin’ twice. You just turned twenty, for cryin’ out loud, and you think it’s okay that you need to be home by eleven? What are we, thirteen?”

  Will just shrugged. “Not worth gettin’ worked up about it. Next week, it won’t matter anyway. We’ll be at school, and we can stay out until three in the mornin’ if we want. Daddy can’t do anything about it then.”

  “He could if I told him,” Nat taunted.

  “Shut up!” Mac and Willow snapped at the same time.

  “Y’all know I’m just playin’.” Nat grinned at them as they continued their trek toward the football field. “At least y’all get to leave. I’m stuck here for another three years.”

  “That’s because you’re fifteen,” Willow said. “Gotta at least finish high school before you run off somewhere exotic.”

  Nat skipped ahead, then twisted around to face them as she walked backward, her eyes bright with excitement. “Maybe so, but as soon as that diploma’s in my hand, I’m outta here, and I’m not lookin’ back.”

  “Why’d you even wanna come tonight?” Mac asked. “You hate movie nights. In fact, you hate anything Havenbrook.”

  Nat spun back around, her hair flying behind her, and continued forward. With a snort, she said, “I’m not goin’ to the football field.” She darted her head left and right as if she were looking for something.

  “No? Where you think you’re off to, then?” Mac shot a sidelong glance at Willow, who returned her irritation. Yep, it was always the same with their baby sister.

  “Asher and Nash found this—”

  One minute, Natalie was walking in front of them, and the next, she was being hauled off over the shoulder of one of the other Three Musketeers.

  “Damn, Nat, don’t tell ’em our plans!” Asher or Nash said—Mac wasn’t sure which as the two boys took off running, Natalie laughing and flopping over a shoulder as they went.

  “Natalie Haven, you better get your butt back to the football field by 10:45! It’s your damn fault we have to be home early anyway!” Mac yelled after them, but it was no use because they were already out of sight.

  “Those three are nothin’ but trouble with a capital T.” Willow pursed her lips, looking in the direction the trio had fled.

  “No doubt. Momma and Daddy’ll get a call tonight about some nonsense they got up to, and guess who’ll get blamed for it?”

  As irritating as her younger sister was, Mac couldn’t find fault in Nat wanting to do something other than the
run-of-the-mill activities Havenbrook offered. She just hoped Nat would figure out how to start hiding it from Momma and Daddy like Mac had managed to do. The trouble, though, wasn’t that Nat had a hard time concealing her activities—it was that she didn’t care if she was caught.

  “Nothing we can do about the inevitable, so we might as well enjoy ourselves in the meantime.” Will hooked her arm through Mac’s and dragged her toward the illuminated football field already swarming with people.

  Havenbrook Movie Night was always a hit, whether they held it in the Square or, when a bigger turnout was expected, on Havenbrook High’s football field. The last show before school started was always heavily attended.

  As Mac and Will strolled toward the festivities, the crowd continually expanded until they couldn’t go two steps without someone calling out a hello to “the Haven girls.” Rory lived and breathed for this kind of attention, but she was the only one of the four who did. Mac would just as soon be a nobody in the town instead of a descendant of its founder.

  “Will! Mac!” someone called from the left. “Over here!”

  It didn’t take long to find where the voice had come from. A group of their friends were sprawled out on a field of blankets off to the side of the inflatable movie screen. Will lifted her hand in a wave and guided Mac in that direction.

  “You go on,” Mac said, extricating her arm from Will’s hold. “I’ll be over in a bit. I wanna grab something from The Sweet Spot first.”

  Will gave her a knowing look, but she didn’t comment on it other than to say, “Grab me a peach cobbler if she’s still got some, will ya?”

  With a nod, Mac turned and weaved her way through the crowds, her focus on the far corner and the homemade stand that represented The Sweet Spot. The bright red booth that she’d helped paint years ago stood out among the standard Movie Night concessions. The line stretched at least a dozen people deep, but that was to be expected.

  Fortunately, she had a cut-the-line card, and she intended to use it.

  She scanned the area, her attention getting snagged by the townspeople who wanted to chat, when her eyes finally locked on the person she’d been looking for.

  Hudson Miller stood a head taller than most, his wild, unkempt hair sticking out in all directions and his eyes so dark they looked black from here. But she knew from years of up close and personal talks, they were actually a rich brown flecked with gold.

  He was working in the stand, right alongside his momma, talking about the best pies of the season as if he knew them as well as he knew his own name. And he did. Most people wouldn’t expect the former captain of the Havenbrook basketball team to know his way around a piecrust, but he was a mess of contradictions. Wilderness warrior, little-sister protector, pie baker, dare goader, fiercest competition in town…not to mention the hottest guy Mac had ever laid eyes on.

  And, by some cruel twist of fate, her best friend…the one person she could never have.

  Start reading Pact with a Heartbreaker today!

  Other Titles By Brighton Walsh

  Reluctant Hearts series

  Interconnected Stand-Alones

  Caged in Winter

  Tessa Ever After

  Paige in Progress

  Our Love Unhinged

  Havenbrook series

  Interconnected Stand-Alones

  Second Chance Charmer

  Hometown Troublemaker

  Pact with a Heartbreaker

  Captain Heartbreaker

  Captive series

  Interconnected Stand-Alones

  Captive

  Exposed

  Stand-alone titles

  Dirty Little Secret

  Plus One

  Season of Second Chances

  The Neighbor

  Have you read London Hale?

  Filthy, taboo, smart erotic romance is what you get when Brighton Walsh and Ellis Leigh/Kristin Harte team up. Ready to set your e-reader on fire?

  May-December Romances

  Daddy’s Best Friend

  The DILF

  Nanny With Benefits

  Opposites Attract Romances

  Sinner (formerly Sinful Temptation)

  Cuffed (formerly Sinful Attraction)

  Talk Dirty to Me (formerly Sinful Distraction)

  Friends to Lovers Romance

  Reunion

  One Night Stand to More Romance

  Tapping That Asset

  Teacher/Student Romance

  Seducing His Student

  Stepbrother’s Baby Romance

  Knocking Her Up

  Billionaire Boss Romance

  Bedding the Billionaire

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  Acknowledgments

  Writing this book came with a maelstrom of trials and tribulations, one of which was a life-changing loss that knocked me off my axis. Troublemaker would’ve forever sat in a partially-finished state were it not for a few pretty fucking amazing people, and I owe them my eternal thanks.

  To Christina, forever and always. You are the glue that holds my crazy ass together, and I never ever want to find out what it’d be like to write a book without your advice, guidance, reassurance, and ass kicking. I love you like whoa.

  To my Bitches™—Ann, Elizabeth, Ellis, Esher, Helen, Jen, Laura, Melly, and Suz—for reassuring me I could finish This Fucking Book when I was certain I couldn’t and for reassuring me I’d get there when I just couldn’t bring myself to write. A special shout out to Elizabeth, Ms. Fancy Pants Reporter/Interviewer/Editor/Whatever-they’re-called for writing a news-worthy headline for Rory and Nash.

  To Lisa for making my words shine and not giving me shit when I’m so sure I’ve finally cracked the code on into vs in to but in reality have only created more work for you. You’re the real MVP.

  To my Brigaders, for sticking by me and still clamoring to get this book after the long wait. I couldn’t do this thing I love if it weren’t for you, so thank you.

  Finally, to my guys, for putting up with my crankiness the entire time I was writing this beast. (Special shout out to my teenager—WHO’D BETTER NOT BE READING THIS—for telling me I was “so crabby all the time.”) I love you even when I scream at you to STOP BUGGING ME WHILE I’M WRITING OMG.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Brighton Walsh spent nearly a decade as a professional photographer before taking her storytelling in a different direction and reconnecting with her first love: writing. When she’s not lost in her own made up worlds, she’s probably either reading or shopping—maybe even both at once. She lives in the Midwest with her real life hero of a husband, her two kids—one taller than her, one not quite yet—and her dog who thinks she’s a queen. Her boy-filled house is the setting for dirty socks galore, frequent dance parties (okay, so it's mostly her, by herself, while her children look on in horror), and more laughter than she thought possible.

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  www.brightonwalsh.com

  brighton@brightonwalsh.com