Hometown Troublemaker (Havenbrook Book 2)

by Brighton Walsh

  “Excuse me?”

  “Aw, c’mon, Rory.” Mac shot her an encouraging smile. “Now’s not the time to be humble. I’m sure Nash is thrilled to have you on his team because you’re so good at handlin’ big jobs and makin’ sure the hard things fit when there’s no way they should.”

  “She is awfully good at that, isn’t she?” Nash asked, his eyes positively gleaming as he regarded Rory.

  When Mac wasn’t looking, Rory shot Nash a glare—one she hoped like hell said he’d better knock it off right that second. By the time Mac faced Rory again, she’d replaced her laser death eyes with what she hoped passed for a confident smile.

  “I’m, well—” She cleared her throat and forced herself to meet Nash’s gaze head on. They were talking about one of their potential jobs, that was all. They most certainly were not talking about what he was packing behind his zipper and how hard he’d had to work to sink that entire length inside her.

  “I’m happy to brainstorm ways we can make it work,” she finally said. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  “Anything?” He leaned back in the chair, his left ankle braced on his opposite knee, as if he weren’t turning her panties into a mess just by twisting around a few words. “I had no idea you were willin’ to be so hands-on.”

  Now he was just taunting her. With narrowed eyes, she snapped, “I’m only hands on when I need to be.”

  Silence fell over the room, and Mac darted her eyes between the two of them. “Umm…”

  Rory placed her palms on her desk and took a deep breath to calm herself down. “Much as I’d like to help you right now, Nash, I’m on town hall time, so it’ll have to wait until later.”

  “Of course. Sorry ’bout that. I don’t wanna interrupt before you can finish what you need to.” Nash stared at her with a look so blatant in its sexual undertone, she was surprised her panties didn’t spontaneously combust. “Anyway, I bet I can figure out a way to get it done on my own.”

  And then he winked, the annoying, infuriating, aggravating, flirty bastard.

  She huffed out a breath, grinding her teeth to keep from saying anything. Mac’s interest in their exchange had already been piqued, and she didn’t try to hide it as she studied the two of them. Great, that was all Rory needed—she’d finally gotten some action, but now her sister was hot on her trail like a bloodhound.

  Hoping to serve as a distraction, she stood abruptly, nearly knocking her chair over. “Mac, we should head out for lunch if we wanna beat the noon crowd.”

  “That’s why I stopped by, actually.” Mac stood and grabbed her purse. “Finn asked me if I could come in early because someone called in sick. Rain check?”

  “Oh. Well.” Rory curled her fingers into fists at her side, forcibly lowering herself back into her chair. “A rain check is fine. Just let me know when.”

  “All right.” Mac shot a look to Nash before settling her gaze back on Rory, her brow furrowed. “You okay?”

  “Me? Course I am! Everything’s right as rain.”

  “If you say so.” Mac punched Nash in the shoulder. “Y’all have fun. Gimme a call when you get off.”

  Too shocked, Rory couldn’t tame the high-pitched squeak that came out of her mouth. “What?”

  Shit, shit, shit. Mac was like frickin’ Nancy Drew, sleuthing out illicit affairs after only fifteen minutes in the presence of the sinners. Why was she wasting her talents bartending at The Willow Tree when she obviously should open her own detective agency?

  Mac shot her a look that very clearly said What the fuck? “Yeahhh… A call? On the phone? When you get off work? Any of these words ringin’ a bell for ya?”

  “Oh, right. Sure, I will. Soon as I get—um, soon as I leave.”

  “Oooookay, then. Bye, y’all.”

  When Mac disappeared around the corner, Rory glared at Nash, all the things she wanted to tell him running through her mind. Like, he shouldn’t be in her office, he should’ve warned her he was stopping by, he should’ve behaved like a respectable human being instead of the shameless ass he seemed to excel at. But she’d be damned if she broke the silence first.

  “That’s too bad about your lunch plans,” he said.

  “Did you need something, or did you come by just to drive me up a flippin’ wall?”

  He smiled, the jerk. “I’d intended to get a building permit application from you, but my plans seem to have changed.”

  “And how’s that? You got here and decided it’d be more fun to mess with my head?”

  He dropped his leg and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on her desk. “No, actually,” he said, his voice low and rumbly enough to make her nipples perk up. He’d sounded just like that when he’d woken her up at four this morning with his mouth between her thighs. “I got here, saw all that pretty hair tumblin’ down your back, and now I can’t stop thinkin’ about what it’d look like all wrapped up in my fist while I fuck you.”

  As if he’d conjured the image straight into her mind, it flickered to life immediately, and the heat between her legs that’d been a near constant since he’d arrived bloomed hotter. “Nash.”

  His gaze never wavered, his eyes speaking all the things he wanted to do to her without him ever having to say a word. “Yeah, that’s another thing I can’t stop thinkin’ about—how you say my name when I’m inside you.”

  “Nash King, that’s enough,” she hissed. “My daddy’s in the other room! You can’t just come into my place of business and start talkin’ to me like—”

  “Thanks for your help, Rory, but I better get goin’,” he said, loud enough to be heard in half the offices in town hall. “I’ve only got a bit of time before I’ve gotta be on my next job. I wanna grab something to eat while I’ve got a chance.” He raised his eyebrow in silent question, his head tipped toward the parking lot. “Hopefully my favorite’s on the menu today.”

  Oh my heavens… Was that her overactive imagination working and spinning his words into something dirty? Or was he actually talking about…having her for lunch?

  He leaned toward her, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “What do you say, princess? Wanna see how much fun you can have in an hour?”

  What did she say? What did she say? She said this was ludicrous behavior. It was something she absolutely did not do. She didn’t engage in…afternoon delights or whatever they were called. She’d never been ravenous enough for someone to stop everything she was doing just to run home and have sex in the middle of the day.

  But then again, before last night, she’d never had a man look at or touch her the way he had. Never had a man worship her body as if he’d been sinning for years and was desperate for redemption.

  She swallowed down her apprehension and her automatic retorts. She was bound and determined to make this the year of the new Rory. And this was definitely something new.

  She reached into her bottom drawer and pulled out her purse. Stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her pressed button-down and fitted pencil skirt. She sidestepped her desk, her head held high as she strolled to her office door.

  Over her shoulder, she said, “I’m headed home for lunch, but I do hope you get what you’re cravin’.”

  There. That was that. She was shaking in her Jimmy Choos, her hands rattling so hard she had to grip her purse strap just to hide it. She’d played the game with Nash, had invited him over to her house without actually saying a thing. If he didn’t come, she could play it off like it was nothing.

  But if he did… If he showed up with his mussed hair and his sex eyes and that mouth that was made for sinning…

  Well.

  Well, then it looked like she was starting something up with Nash King. And whatever that something was included midafternoon sex.

  A wave of giddiness bubbled up inside her, and she didn’t even try to hide the smile that tipped up the corners of her mouth. She practically skipped to her car. And for once, when she greeted the townspeople with a grin as she passed, the happines
s shown on her face was genuine.

  “Ella!” Rory called out the window of her car at her retreating seven-year-old. “Could you at least wait until I come to a full stop, please?”

  “Sorry, Momma!” Ella yelled over her shoulder, but she just kept right on running around the side of her grandparents’ house and into the wooded paradise that awaited her. It didn’t matter that it was hot enough for the devil himself to sweat, that girl played outside all day if she was able.

  Rory shook her head, put the car in park, and glanced into the back seat at Ava. “You gonna play with your sister, or would you like to help Mimi and me with supper?”

  Ava shrugged but otherwise didn’t offer another answer. That was all it seemed to be with her lately. Shrugs, head shakes, a grunt if Rory was lucky. She hadn’t thought she’d have to worry about this sort of sullen angst for another couple of years. She absolutely wasn’t ready for this sass to be part of their daily lives, but it appeared to be here for the duration. And, truth be told, she had no idea how to handle it.

  The three of them were in uncharted territory, and Rory—the leader, the know-it-all, the perfectionist who didn’t do something if she couldn’t do it right—was without a compass. She was floundering, plain and simple.

  She’d found herself questioning every single parenting move she made since she split with Sean. She had no idea what it was like to grow up with divorced parents, so she couldn’t relate to what her girls were going through, and she hated that. Moreover, she had no idea how to broach the subject, if she should even talk about it, and how much—or how little—she should say. So she’d just avoided it entirely. Not her best parenting move, but the one she’d needed to make just to stay sane.

  “Well, I’m goin’ in, and I’d love to have your help,” she said. “I know Mimi would too.”

  That earned her an eye roll she pretended not to see because if she acknowledged it, she’d have to punish Ava for the disrespect. And quite frankly, Rory didn’t have it in her today. She was exhausted—not just from the normal ins and outs of a full day as a single mom, but from… Well, from all the teeth-rattling, earthshaking, stars-exploding sex she’d been having with a too-hot-for-his-own-good contractor. Nash had shown up at her house that day she’d offered herself up for his lunch pleasure. And it’d been a near-constant barrage of amazing sex ever since.

  She should’ve been ashamed of herself for how she was behaving—bedding a man who was so much younger than her, all the while keeping it a secret from any and everyone. She couldn’t imagine what her sisters would say if they knew. Worse, she couldn’t imagine what the town would say—and there was no doubt in her mind they’d have a whole lot to run their mouths about.

  “Momma, you comin’?” Ava called from the front porch, her hand stilled on the doorknob.

  “Be right there!” Yeah, as soon as she cooled herself off thanks to the onslaught of wholly inappropriate thoughts. She blasted the air conditioning in her car, leaned back against her seat, and closed her eyes…where flashes of Nash’s naked body moving over hers came unbidden to her mind.

  She snapped her eyes open, turned off the car, and hustled into her childhood home. If anything could get her mind off her hot sex partner, it’d be chopping up vegetables with her momma and daughter right next to her.

  Rory strode through the front door without knocking, hanging her purse on the hook by the door. Cinnamon and cloves greeted her, and she inhaled the familiar pairing. Much as she loved the scent, it never failed to make her heart clench, remembering life in this house before she’d left for college. Not that her childhood had been bad—she’d never wanted for anything…except support. But it had been challenging. Struggling to live up to her daddy’s unrealistic expectations and failing every single time.

  Was it any wonder the scent that accompanied her childhood anxieties made her stomach churn as an adult? No matter that she was a grown woman with two kids of her own, or that she hadn’t needed her daddy’s approval in a long time. Old habits died hard. And Rory feared she’d still be yearning for that approval thirty years from now.

  She shook her head of the thoughts and followed the soft cadence of her mom and her daughter in conversation.

  “Aren’t you a little young for a boyfriend?” Rory’s momma asked, and Rory froze in place, not daring to move an inch closer for fear Ava would clam up as soon as Rory came into view. And this she absolutely had to hear, because boyfriend? She hadn’t known a single thing about a boyfriend.

  “I’m not gonna kiss him or anything, Mimi,” Ava said.

  “Well, that’s good to know, I suppose.”

  “’Sides, Kelsey’s already had three boyfriends.”

  Her momma hummed. “I see. Well, then I suppose I’d better book you an appointment at the salon.”

  Rory scrunched her brow, having absolutely no idea what one had to do with the other.

  Fortunately, it seemed, neither did her daughter. “Why do you need to do that?”

  “Well, if you’re determined to do everything Kelsey does, we can cut your hair to be like hers too. How much do you think they’ll have to chop? Ten…eleven inches?”

  “Mimi!” Her daughter sounded aghast, like she’d just been told they were cutting off a limb instead of hair. “I’m not choppin’ off my hair!”

  “Why not? If you’re so interested in bein’ just like your best friend instead of your own person, that’s the first step.”

  “But I like my hair how it is.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I like your hair how it is, too. And I like you just how you are.” Her momma shuffled around in the kitchen, and Rory had half a mind to peek around the corner just to witness this bonding so she could study every minute detail of it in hope of recreating it herself. “You’re gettin’ to the age now when your friends are gonna be doin’ a lot of things you might not be interested in. And that’s okay. It’s good to have different interests. But now’s also the time when you get to figure out who you are and who you wanna be. And I hope when you’re figurin’ that out, you listen the most to that little voice in your head. Because it knows best how to make you happy.”

  A sudden lump formed in Rory’s throat, a tightness in her chest that nearly had her stumbling. Much as she loved her momma for having that talk with Ava and reassuring her that she needed to make herself happy above all else, Rory couldn’t help but wonder where it’d been twenty-five years ago when she’d needed it. When she’d had others whispering in her ear about who and what she should be. So loud, they’d overpowered every single whisper of an inner voice she’d had.

  Was it better or worse that the voice that changed her the most had been her daddy’s?

  “I wonder where your momma is,” Rory’s mom said. “She out lookin’ after your sister?”

  “Dunno. I thought she was right behind me.”

  Rory cleared her clogged throat and prayed her eyes weren’t blotchy from unshed tears. She pasted on a smile, her heart aching over the possibilities of what could’ve been. And when she turned the corner and saw her mom and her daughter standing side by side working—something Ava hadn’t been interested in with Rory in months—her heart also ached over what couldn’t be.

  RORY’D MANAGED to keep a smile on her face for over an hour while she, her momma, and Ava prepped for Sunday supper. And she was tired. So fucking tired. That only proved how much she’d been slipping these past months. Used to be, she could hold that fake smile all day if that was what was called for. But now? The entire fiasco was exhausting.

  “Smells good in here.” Mac blew into the kitchen like a tornado, snagging one of the cut veggies off the tray before leaning her elbow on the counter. “Anything I can help with?”

  “I think we’ve pretty much got everything ready. Just waitin’ a bit for the gravy to finish up, then we’re set.” Momma raised an eyebrow at Mac. “Funny how you show up every week just in time to eat.”

  Mac held her hands up. “Don’t pin that on me! I ca
me over with Will. Could barely drag the girl away from Finn’s mou—”

  “Remember all the dirt I have on you before you finish that sentence.” Will pressed a kiss to their momma’s cheek and gave Rory a quick hug. “And it’s a lot juicer than me kissin’ my fiancé.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I saw an awful lot of to—”

  “Mackenna Isabelle Haven. I know you are not about to finish that sentence.” Momma leveled her with a look. The look.

  “Tolerance, Momma, jeez,” Mac said. “Will’s got an awful lot of tolerance when it comes to her fiancé. What’d you think I was gonna say?”

  The stare their momma gave her said she didn’t buy the flimsy excuse one bit, but she wasn’t going to call her out on it. Good, because Rory wasn’t sure she could listen to more talk about Will and her fiancé without the brittle smile on her face cracking even more.

  “Ava, would you call in your sister, please, so y’all can set the table?” Momma said, handing out orders that somehow made it seem like saying no was an option, though everyone knew it wasn’t. “Will, would you mind pullin’ down all the dishes for them? And Mac, think you can stop runnin’ your mouth long enough to fetch your gran?”

  A mix of Yes, ma’ams—from Will and Ava—and laughter—from Mac, naturally—filled the space, and Rory clung to the first thing she could think of to get her out of there for a moment of breathing room. “Actually, Mac, would you mind helpin’ Ava find Ella? She probably won’t hear y’all callin’ from the back porch. Heaven only knows where that girl ended up. I’ll go ahead and get Gran.”

  Since Mac was like Rory’s youngest daughter in that she loved everything about being outdoors, she didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Rory took her sweet time making her way toward Gran’s suite. Years ago, after Gramps had passed away, Gran had moved in with them. Daddy had built an addition on to the house just so she’d feel as if she had her own space. As a kid, Rory’d always thought it was so far removed from the rest of the house. But now, as she tried to collect herself as best she could, she was grateful for the extra time it took to get there.