Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (50 page)

“I haven't heard any rumors.” Although guilt pinched. Hadn't she just wished she could be a better friend?

“That's because you hang out with nice girls.” He tugged gently on her hair and then released it.

She wished he wouldn't stop touching her. She remembered how good it had felt to hug him, even when she'd been scared and upset earlier.

“I'm sorry about crying all over you when I hugged you before,” she said suddenly, embarrassed to remember it. “I was really stressed with the responsibility of sitting with Rachel when there was no adult around.”

“And you didn't scratch then.” He pointed to her wrists. “Good job.”

Surprised he'd thought of that, Ally looked down at her skin. The pink marks were still there, now marks of healing. And there weren't any fresh scratches.

“You're right.” And despite the crappiness of the night—her parents probably heading for divorce and Rachel getting in an accident—Ally experienced a moment of pure happiness. “Wow.”

“See?” Ethan smiled. “You just have to hug me when you're stressed.”

Ally remembered what he'd said the day before—back in the fairgrounds parking lot—about wanting to kiss her. It was the only thing that gave her the courage to speak up now.

“Too bad I'm not stressed anymore.” Her cheeks warmed. Was that the lamest thing ever to say?

But Ethan lifted a hand to her cheek and held it there, his eyes warming her insides. “The one doesn't have to depend on the other.”

Was he inviting her to hug him now? The way his eyes were checking her out, she wanted to wait and see what he might do. Because the moment spun out and felt really, really promising.

When his eyes slid closed, her heartbeat went crazy. She closed her eyes, too, praying she didn't mess this up. His mouth found hers and suddenly she was having the kiss she'd always dreamed about. She'd been waiting for this forever. Hadn't dated anyone else because, for her, it had always been Ethan Brady.

Happiness spread through her, sweeping away worries and fears and the anxiety that dogged her from the moment she got out of bed most days. With Ethan, she could just be. So she absorbed his kiss for the longest time, learning the feel of his mouth. After long moments, she remembered she was supposed to open her mouth.

“Am I doing this all wrong?” She opened her eyes again and studied his face to see if he gave away any sign that she was an awful kisser.

But his eyes stayed closed for a second. When he opened them, a slow smile curled his lips. His breath smelled like peppermint gum.

“You're perfect, Ally. Just so freaking perfect.” He said it like he meant it.

Which, of course, was crazy. But that didn't stop her from liking it.

“I've been holding out to kiss you.” She was done keeping secrets, right? He might as well know that she'd been crushing on him. “So, er, I've got no experience to help me out.”

“That's...” He looked like she'd hit him with a two-by-four. And what was up with that? “That's definitely the nicest thing I've heard in a long time.”

She realized now he actually
didn't
appear dumbstruck, exactly. He seemed...touched. Happy. It amazed her to see how the feeling could go back and forth like that, the happiness multiplying all over the place. That was a kind of math she could definitely appreciate.

“Meaning...I kiss okay?” It wasn't easy to let go of the whole A-student mentality. As with anything else in her life, she wanted to get this right.

Ethan leaned in and her heart went nutzoid again.

“Refresh my memory for a little while.” He brushed his mouth over hers and her nerve endings did a happy dance. “And I'll get back to you.”

Sliding her arms around his neck, she edged closer, committing herself to the kiss and to Ethan. She'd waited long enough for this moment. She wanted to lose herself in his arms before she had to face the reality of all the things she had to worry about. Her parents splitting. Rachel's battle for the right to be herself.

Ally's next trip to a counselor to make sure she didn't spiral out of control like Gram did sometimes.

Squeezing Ethan tighter, she hoped he'd never let go—even if she still wanted to make her big break after the dance.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I'
M
NOT
LEAVING
.”
Mack sat at his mother's kitchen table across from his brother late that morning.

After visiting Vince's grave, he'd gone back to the field manager's quarters to sleep for a few hours after he got home, then knocked on his mother's door shortly before noon, resolved to make his peace with his mother. Instead, he'd found Scott brooding over a plate of pancakes while Mom sat beside him with a big pile of pill bottles and a weeklong dispenser case.

She counted out pills quietly while Mack and Scott argued.

“Mack, you came down here to take some things off my plate and help me save my marriage.” He shoved the pancakes around an antique plate with stabs of his fork. “I'm admitting defeat and telling you—go home. Let me take over the festival. I need something to do now anyway so I don't lose my effing mind.”

Their mother glared at him. No words needed.

“I said
effing,
” Scott clarified.

“Thanks so much for repeating it at my table.” She adjusted her glasses higher on her nose and went back to counting out red capsules into the compartments of the case.

“You tell me, then,” Mack demanded, trying his best not to get in his brother's face. “What exactly did you do to save your marriage? How have you made an effort with Bethany since I've been here?”

The scent of sweet maple syrup and the smell of lavender that permeated the old house was giving him a headache. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Or perhaps it was his fury at his stubborn brother who couldn't see how stupid he was being to let Bethany walk away without a fight.

“I asked her to leave town with me when you told me to, back when you first got here.” Scott pushed his plate aside, the fork rattling against the china as it scraped along the tile tabletop.

“Did you book a hotel? Flash airline tickets? Pack a bag?” Mack ground his teeth, wondering what in the hell was wrong with his brother.

“Why would I do that without finding out if she wanted to go first? She didn't seem interested. Then all the sudden she wanted us to leave last night on a moment's notice. As if I could duck out on all my responsibilities here.” Scott leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Our daughter is in a bad way. We can't just leave her.”

“Do you even know where Ally is right now?” Mack's mother asked him.

The steady
click, click
of pills halted.

He hesitated. “Sleeping upstairs.” Then, straightening, he looked up the staircase where the guest bedroom door was visible and obviously wide open. “Or else she went to sleep at home.”

Mack said nothing.

“Where is my daughter?” Scott's fingers curled into a napkin and squeezed the ever-loving hell out of it.

“She's at the hospital, sitting with a girl who needed a friend,” Mom explained gently. “Mack came on the scene of an accident last night. The girl was a teenage driver who was scared and asked for Ally to be with her. Mack came to pick her up after you went to bed. Ally has texted a few times since then and she should be home in about—” Mom checked the homemade clock on the wall “—fifteen minutes.”

“Nice of you all to let me know. I've gotten used to her not speaking to me.”

Mom's eyebrows shot up, but she went back to pill counting.

Mack was only too glad for his turn at his brother. “Dude, if she doesn't speak to you, and you're not working to change that, then I don't think she can be your excuse for not working things out with Bethany. But pick a relationship—any relationship—and start working on it, or you're going to find yourself alone.”

“Do you really think you're the one to pass out advice on being a husband and father since you're neither?” Scott said with biting accuracy.

Mack bit back the urge to snap at Scott. Kicking his brother when he was already lower than down would accomplish nothing. “I'm sorry. Just offering my observations and input, for what it's worth.”

Ever since the spring, Scott had been spending more and more time with their mother, and Mack had assumed it was because of Mom's failing health. Or to help their mother through her grief for their dad. But now, he'd seen for himself who was making pancakes and doling out advice, versus who couldn't get out of his own way across the table from him.

And even as he thought as much, another possibility hit him like an oncoming bus.

What if Scott suffered some of the same issues their mom did? That Ally had already shown signs of? He filed that away to mention to...he didn't know who. But he was pretty sure this wasn't the right time or place for that particular observation.

Mack decided to ease off the tough talk, rethinking what kind of help Scott might need. His brother had been there for him through a lot, after all. The least he could do was offer the same.

“Look.” He stood, hearing a car in the driveway. “That must be Ally now. She had a rough night but she was really a stand-up friend.”

In fact, he had to admit that despite her personal problems and the emotional issues that had made a scary appearance last weekend, Ally had impressed him with her composure on their ride to the hospital. She hadn't hesitated when he'd said Rachel needed Ally, even though, apparently, the girl hadn't lived in town for long. Clearly, Ally's priorities were solid.

Which had him wondering...who would have shown up at the hospital for Rachel if Scott had made the same decision about not having kids as Mack?

A sharp pang of shame heated the back of his neck even though, damn it, he could love his niece without wanting to put a kid through the battles she faced.

Still, when the screen door opened and Ally stepped through, Mack couldn't shake an absurd sense of guilt. There were shadows under her eyes, but she smiled. He noticed the bandages on her wrists were gone, as were all the friendship bracelets she'd worn before the scratching incident.

“Morning.” He clapped her on the shoulder as he headed for the door himself. “How's your friend doing?”

“Pretty good. Her doctor said the surgery went well. She should be able to go home Saturday. She
has
to be able to go through the straw maze, right?”

“Definitely. We'll make sure they keep it up after the festival, just in case.” Mack waited for Scott to jump in. Ask a question.

Why wouldn't his brother ask Ally about her night and tell her she'd done a great job being there for her friend? Ally deserved some recognition for being a good kid.

Especially considering the obstacles in her path.

He reminded himself not to push and he was about to excuse himself when his phone rang, his cell phone showing Nina's number.

“It was great of you to be there for Rachel, Ally,” Mack told her, needing to be certain she heard it. “I've got to take this, okay?”

“Bye, Uncle Mack.” She gave him a wave and dropped into the seat he'd vacated at the table.

Mack pressed the button to take Nina's call as he walked outside, envisioning how she'd looked the night before during their video call, her hair sleep-tousled and sexy. He'd wanted to drive out there and slide under her sheets with her.

“Nina.” He spoke her name into the phone as he answered the call, wishing she was there with him right now, or at the very least, wishing they were using FaceTime so he could at least see her. “I've been thinking about you.”

“Well.” He could hear the smile in her voice on the other end of the phone. Also, some traffic in the background. “That's a very attractive way to answer my call.”

“Call more often. I'll bet I can top it.”

She laughed, a rich, joyful sound that chased away all the dark inside him and made him want to haul her back to his place for a few hours.

“Am I still going to see you tonight?” He had a surprise for her—he was bringing down a cover band from Nashville that had originally been booked to play at Finleys' for the weekend.

He'd gotten a substitute for the bar and was importing the bigger-name group here for the weekend. The announcement would be in the morning paper. Maybe if he showed Nina a glimpse of the fun life he led away from Heartache, she'd be more inclined to join him. He'd suggested she open her shop in Nashville as a way to keep her closer to him. He wasn't sure what kind of future they could have, but right now he couldn't imagine a future without her.

“Absolutely. I've got one more property to look at and then I'll be in the kitchen at the fairgrounds, baking. Why don't you just meet me there when you're done with your duties?”

Mack paused in the driveway. “Find anything promising yet?”

He tried to keep his voice light, but the thought of her buying shop front before he had a chance to make his case definitely worried him.

“I've got some interesting possibilities, that's for sure. I'll tell you about them tonight.” She sounded happy and lighthearted in a way that she hadn't been when she first arrived in town.

Amazingly, something about Heartache was really agreeing with her. He wished to hell it was him.

“I can't wait to see you.” He'd never been the kind of guy to wear his heart—or any deep emotions—on his sleeve. But with his departure around the corner, he couldn't afford to hold anything back. “Hearing your voice last night after that accident...it put a lot into perspective for me, Nina. I realize I'm not the easiest guy to get along with—”

“Don't even go there.” She lowered her voice, turning serious. “We were friends before everything else, right? No matter what else happened between us this fall, I'm grateful we've found that again.”

Friends. Right.

They were. But that lone word didn't come close to summing up the complexity of emotions churning through him at just the sound of her voice. Nina was...everything.

Hell. He slumped against his car, phone clutched in a tight fist.

What a time to realize his feelings went far deeper than he'd ever fathomed. He was still in love with Nina. Not a teenage kind of love, either. But the love of a man, a man who wasn't giving up.

He had his work cut out for him this weekend if he was going to convince Nina to be a part of his life. But then, hard work and ambition had never been a problem for a Finley. He would make this the most unforgettable weekend of her life.

“Me, too.” He slid into his car and started making a plan to win her back for good. “I'll see you tonight.”

* * *

B
Y
TEN
O
'
CLOCK
that night, there was no part of the fairgrounds kitchen that Nina hadn't put to work. The counters were crammed with halved, hollowed-out pumpkins that would hold bowls full of ice for a table display in the dining area. Applesauce and caramel dips simmered on the stove, while separate electric kettles held corn chowder and vats of chili in a range of spiciness. Cupcakes of every kind and in various stages of decoration filled cooling racks, countertops and refrigerators. The convection ovens were filled with loaves of bread from fresh milled grains provided by local farmers.

A low, appreciative whistle sounded from the doorway.

“This place smells incredible.” Mack stood at the edge of the room, looking incredibly delicious for a man who must have been working all day. His white tee was crisp and clean, his hair damp at the edges around his face, as if he'd just washed up.

Nina's blood warmed pleasantly, simmering right along with all the other things heating up in the kitchen. She thought about that late-night phone call and remembered how easy it would be to let herself be fooled into thinking they had a shot at a future together. And how easily she could be devastated by the fallout.

“Thank you. I'm taking full credit.” She felt pleasantly exhausted after a full day's work. Her life was changing gears in a way she hadn't expected but, surprisingly enough, was enjoying. “Although I suppose the farmers who grew the food deserve kudos, too.”

Tossing a cleaning rag into a bin, she washed her hands, more than ready to call it a night. At least as far as work was concerned.

“I have the feeling you're selling a lot more than funnel cakes and corn dogs this year.” He walked closer, checking out the gourd display that would decorate one of the dining room tables tomorrow. “These are great.”

He pointed to a pair of “totem poles” that she was particularly proud of, with one colorful gourd stacked on another, all in an homage to fall. She'd painted faces on a few of them to add to the effect.

“Thanks.” Drying her hands, she hung the towel to dry on one of the stove handles. “I've had an incredibly productive day.”

“Productive enough you can call it quits for the night?” His eyes lingered on the pots on the stove then slid toward her.

Her pulse quickened.

“Yes. Thankfully, I have reinforcements to take over.” She just wished she'd had a chance to comb her hair. Her hand went to the messy knot at the top of her head. No doubt she looked...like she'd worked all day. “Let me just tell the girls I'm leaving.”

Some volunteers from the planning committee had promised to shut down the kitchen for the night. Actually, they had connections to the fairgrounds' maintenance staff, so they probably knew more about securing the building for the night than she did. She'd already given detailed instructions about storing the sauces and the breads.

Stepping into the back room, she let her replacement know she was leaving and took a quick peek in the break room mirror. She tugged the clip out of her hair and ran her fingers through it. When that didn't help, she burrowed in her purse for a hairbrush and took a few swipes. Popped a mint.

It wasn't much in the way of damage control, but it helped her feel calmer, ironic since her life had been full tilt since Mack had strutted back into her life—and her heart. She grabbed her jean jacket from a hook on the wall and slid it on.