Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (37 page)

“Where's your Gram?” He pivoted back toward the town square. “Didn't she ride with you?”

Nina nodded. “Ethan Brady's grandfather is driving her.”

“Harlan is a good guy.” Mack kept his arm on her door, his body still close enough to touch.

She hadn't even gotten her keys out of her purse yet. God, she was a mess. All because of Mack Finley and his crazy, unexpected, makes-no-sense suggestion they go out on a date. He knew that was a terrible idea, damn it. Why had he put it out there?

“Nina?” He put a hand on her forearm, a simple touch that reminded her of all the things she'd just said “no” to. “You okay to drive?”

A long sigh hissed from her lips. She had tried to do what was right. To make the smart decision. But Mack was thwarting her at every turn with touches and crazy suggestions that a relationship between them was still a possibility. But they wanted very different things in life and her heart ached just remembering how much he'd hurt her last time. And yet still the attraction between them frazzled her to distraction. Frustrated and unable to hold back another second, she twisted in her seat, looped her arms around his neck and planted the kind of kiss on his gorgeous lips he wouldn't forget any time soon.

When she eased back, it was Mack who wore the swaying-on-his-feet expression, his eyes unfocused for a long moment.

“I'm feeling better already.” She nodded, her blood running hot in her veins, but she felt more in control now. More like her old, take-charge self. “I'll think about what you said.”

“About dinner?”

“About taking risks.” Maybe that kiss was all she needed. Just to get the urge out of her system.

Or just to know she wasn't the only one affected by the chemistry in the air.

“That's...good.” He smiled and made a point of rubbing a finger over his lower lip where she'd just kissed him. “I think I like your risky side.”

“That's the problem. I don't.” She shook her head, flustered again and needing to retreat more than ever. “I've spent a long time trying to rein it in to be more efficient in business and more discerning in my love life.” Too bad Mack had a close and personal relationship with her adventurous side. He seemed to bring it out in her without even trying.

“Don't tell me you're turning practical on me.” He grinned as she revved the engine on the pickup and put it in Reverse.

“Okay, I won't tell you.” She would go home, bake some cupcakes and wise up before she did anything stupid, like actually get involved with a man who never wanted a family. “You'll just have to see for yourself.”

CHAPTER SIX

A
LLY
F
INLEY
WAS
sweeping up hair from the floor of The Strand Salon when she heard the words that stopped her cold.

“I have a date with Ethan Brady tonight,” chirped a feminine voice somewhere behind her, the overhead fan wafting the scent of hair chemicals and shampoo around her.

They were
her
words. The ones Ally had been wanting to say ever since Ethan moved into town. But they were coming from another girl's mouth. That wasn't totally surprising, she thought as she stared at a growing collection of auburn baby curls from a previous haircut. Ethan had always been popular with the girls at school.

Except that he'd totally flirted with Ally in the peach orchard just the weekend before. He was even considering leaving town with her after Harvest Fest, and they'd talked about meeting last night at Lucky's. Only he'd been laughing and dancing with another girl.

Risking a glance up from her sweeping, Ally spotted Rachel Wagoner in one of the chairs near the door. Her pink designer purse was perched on the table in front of the mirror. Sleek blond hair fell in a perfect sheet around her shoulders. Rachel was in Ally's grade and she already had her pick of boy admirers. Why did she have to go after Ethan? Was it Rachel's mission in life to collect every guy's heart in Williamson County?

“How exciting!” Lisa, the newest stylist, squealed, mixing up a chemical in a plastic dish with a miniature paintbrush. “I saw you two together behind Lucky's last night.”

So had Ally. But she'd tried telling herself that Ethan was just being nice. Keeping the broom moving, she swiped the bristles underneath one of the other stylist's station, her arms itching with the need to scratch her skin. She hadn't touched her scarred forearms in almost two weeks, but the pain inside her chest was burning so strong that scratching would be the only thing that would release it. At least then, the pain would be outside.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled to no one in particular. She propped the broom in the corner, leaning the handle against a framed cosmetology license for the salon's owner. “Be right back.”

“You okay, hon?” one of the older stylists, Trish, asked as Ally hurried toward the staff bathroom. Trish had big, overdone curls that must have been popular a long time ago and wore cat-eye make up every single day, but she was sweet and Ally liked her.

“Fine.” She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn't turn that way. “Just a cramp, I think.” She clutched her stomach, hoping that would buy her some time in the bathroom.

“There's some Midol over the sink,” Trish called after her. “A big, industrial-size container. We consider that a business expense here, you know.” The woman in Trish's chair laughed with her, their voices fading as Ally pushed open the door marked Employees Only and stalked through the empty break room past the washer and dryer.

Ethan was going out with Rachel.

The hurt stabbed her so hard that a sob escaped her throat as she flung open the private bathroom door and locked it behind her. She needed to talk to Gram. Her grandmother was smart about stuff like this. She would know what to do.

Ally was so rattled she pressed the wrong digits three times before inputting the correct speed dial key on her cell phone.

Please pick up. Please pick up.

It hurt that Gram hadn't invited her over lately, but surely she would see Ally's call coming through and answer her phone? Emotions clogged Ally's throat, the hurt in her chest spreading with every unanswered ring. Right until Gram's voice message came on. “Sorry I can't take your call right now...”

Frustration boiled over and a cry bubbled up her throat as she shoved her phone back in her purse. That sob unleashed more sobs. And more. So many that Ally couldn't keep them quiet. They raked up her chest in wrenching heaves, leaving a trail of fire inside her.

How could this happen? She'd worked so hard to get good grades, to be a good student, a good daughter and granddaughter, a good freaking everything. What for? No one noticed or cared. She'd busted her ass in high school only to have her parents' marriage turn to shit, her house become a war zone, her weekend nights spent rattling through the cold silences of the living room or else locked in her bedroom with the stereo cranked so she didn't have to hear them fighting.

Through it all, she at least had the thought of Ethan. He'd been a friend if not a boyfriend. Now, she didn't even have that. Because a “friend” wouldn't flirt with her and then ask out another girl.

Especially not Rachel Freaking Wagoner, who bought her blond by the half gallon and whose parents gave her a Lexus before she'd even graduated.

“Ally?” The sound of her name penetrated the raw sobs as they echoed around the gray tile.

Ally tried to stop long enough to listen.

“Is everything all right, hon?” Trish's voice came through the door. “Want me to call your mom to give you a ride home?”

A ride home?

Had she been in the bathroom that long? Or had the sound of her crying slipped out into the break room?

Ally turned on a water faucet to mask any noise she was making.

“I'll be fine. Thanks.” The last thing she needed was her mother showing up here. Her mother who was too perfect to ever say she was stressed. Who took so much pride in her ability to do it all that she expected everyone else to be able to do the same.

“Can I come in, honey?” Trish asked. “You sound awfully sad.”

The worry in Trish's voice became more obvious. For that matter, Ally was pretty sure she heard other voices in the background, too. Were they all talking about her? About how she was a total loser hiding out in the bathroom while the one person she cared about slipped away for good?

She dug her nails into her forearms. Except this time, they were sticky. Like she'd stuck her arms in a vat of thick hair chemicals. What the hell?

Looking down, she saw bright red covered both arms.

Blood.

She was bleeding—hard—from the scratches she'd already made on her arms. Scratches she'd never be able to hide under her friendship bracelets. There were even a few drops on the floor.

Nausea gripped her stomach. This was bad. Really, really bad. She'd lost more than Ethan. She'd lost control.

“Ally, I'm going to unlock the door, okay?” Trish's voice came again.

It was only a matter of time before her coworkers in the salon found out what a colossal loser she was. Soon, her mother would know, too. But right now, the sadness leaking out of her in blood and tears, Ally felt more relief than shame. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about being good.

* * *

T
HE
F
INLEY
NAME
cast a big shadow in this town. Literally.

Nina arrived at Finley Building Supply shortly before noon with a basket of cupcakes and parked under the cooling shelter of the sign overhead bearing the family name. Tough not to think about Mack when she saw reminders of him everywhere. His father had opened this store as a young man and grew the business himself along with a construction company, handing it over to his oldest son when Scott and Bethany married. The structure had been expanded multiple times until the original storefront was now just office space for the big, warehouselike building that welcomed shoppers today.

Locking the truck, Nina hefted the basket of treats and headed toward the main entrance. She surreptitiously glanced around the parking lot, but didn't see Mack's car. Her dreams the night before had been full of him, memories of their kiss sparking a longing that had lingered for hours after she awoke. She couldn't afford another run-in with him until she'd had the chance to think through what had happened between them.

Inside the building, the scent of pine and sawdust put a sharp tang in the air. Sale signs for windows and doors hung low over bins of hardware. At the end of one row, Nina spotted a small forklift backing up, driven by a young man in a hard hat while Bethany directed him.

Hurrying toward them, Nina waved when Bethany looked her way. Bethany spoke into a walkie-talkie and then headed for Nina. Her jeans and white T-shirt, emblazoned with the store logo, hung loosely from her thin frame, as if she'd lost weight recently and hadn't bothered to shop for her smaller size.

“How thoughtful of you.” Bethany's eyes went to the basket. “A lot of workers will be thrilled to eat these.” She waved over a young woman who looked like she was taking inventory on a tablet. “Grace, will you put these on the counter in back where the guys will see them between deliveries today?”

Like the last time they'd spoken, Bethany was polite but didn't seem remotely tempted by the scents wafting from the basket of cupcakes. Not that everyone had to love the bakery treat of Nina's choice. But truly? Most people did. Nina got the impression not much would put a smile on Bethany's face these days. Grace, in the meantime, grinned ear to ear as she took the basket.

“I came close to the lunch hour in case I could entice you out of the store for a bit.” Nina tugged her purse strap higher on her shoulder, her red sheathe dress all wrong for a casual day around town. She hadn't quite calibrated her wardrobe back to small town Tennessee from the Upper West Side.

Which was one of the reasons she wanted to reconnect with Bethany. She could use a friend now as she faced monumental life decisions everywhere she turned. With Gram. With her business. With her living situation.

Funny how, even with all of that to weigh, she found herself thinking about Mack more than anything else lately.

“Really?” Frowning, Bethany checked her watch. “Wow, it's almost noon. Actually, I have some deliveries coming soon. Would you mind if we sat out back for a few minutes instead? There's a picnic table, and it's so nice outside.”

A few minutes? And no food?

“Is it too late to call Grace back with the cupcakes?” As soon as she said it she realized it was rude to give a gift and then ask to eat it. “Kidding,” she covered lamely. “I'd love to sit outside.”

Ten minutes later, they had cups of water from the water cooler and cupcakes that Bethany requested on her walkie even though Nina had tried to fake like she didn't need one.

Nina devoured a huge bite of hazelnut yumminess while Bethany carefully nibbled the edges of her cupcake where there was no frosting.

“You seem to have a huge amount of responsibility here,” Nina observed between bites, wishing she could have taken Cupcake Romance to the level of success that the store was obviously experiencing. “I can't believe the size of the new building.”

“We've more than doubled it.” Bethany set down her cupcake and glanced back toward the building. A delivery truck was just pulling into one of the loading bays. “I thought at the time working on the new building would bring Scott and I closer. I quit teaching so I could be here full-time.” She shrugged. “But I think, since I lobbied for the expansion, he figured I could handle the added workload. I went from occasional hours to full-time to manager in the course of a year.”

Nina tried to put the pieces together and couldn't make them fit. “Doesn't he work here anymore?”

She didn't mean to pry, but Scott used to be a fixture at the store when Nina lived in town.

“Unofficially? Yes, he comes in and helps with deliveries now and again.” Bethany's posture turned stiff and she crossed her arms. “But he hasn't collected a paycheck in years. The owners of the company—Scott and his siblings—only make money if the business realizes a profit, so you can bet I'm motivated to see that we operate in the black. Since I left teaching, the store is our only source of income.”

“You're obviously doing an incredible job. I wish I had half your business smarts. Maybe I'd still have a bakery business.”

“Well, thank you.” Bethany gave a clipped nod while twisting the antenna on her walkie-talkie. “I appreciate that. I did have a lot of help from Scott when I was starting out. He taught me so much in the early years about what makes a successful business. Although, if I had it to do over again, I don't think I would have chosen to run a hardware store.”

Nina couldn't miss the wistful note in her voice.

“If Scott came back to the store, you could open a business of your own.” She remembered the thrill of those early days at Cupcake Romance, setting up all the social-media sites and deciding how the logo should look. Every day had been a new challenge and she'd worked from sunup to midnight for months straight, running on adrenaline and enthusiasm, utterly invested in her dream.

“That would be...amazing.” Bethany came close to smiling. “Amazing but impossible.”

Nina wanted to ask why, but maybe the problems in their marriage were too deep for Bethany to contemplate making any other changes in her life right now. It was a shame that she had worked so hard toward her husband's dream while the whole Finley family benefitted and she grew resentful.

“Well, I won't press you about it. But I'll bet your husband would come back to the store if you chose to do something else. I remember him being here all the time when I was younger. He's such a hard worker.” Nina had admired that in the whole Finley family. She and Mack had served on student government together long before the days when he'd helped Nina pick peaches for her grandmother's homemade jam. Mack and Scott both took after their father, a man who had run a business before he ran the town. Their sisters also owned a business, a second-hand boutique in town, turning their love of flea market shopping into a money-making venture.

There was no stopping the Finleys.

Bethany's smile was tight. “And he still works hard. He helps anyone in town who's building a house, for example, giving out advice for free that used to be part of the contracting side of the business.” She shrugged. “Between you and me, I think Scott's been lobbying for that mayor job since the day his father started to cut his hours at the county courthouse.”