Justin sat at the bar of the Grand Bohemian Hotel in Asheville. He spun his glass while he waited, watching the amber liquor swirl with two round ice cubes. The place was a different class than he preferred—more uppity city folk than locals—but he was meeting someone. He could deal.

It was busy most weekend nights, and this Friday night was no different. Couples sat on low leather couches. Small groups of friends met and chatted. There were rooms for private parties, but the restaurant and bar were open to the public.

A large group was beginning to gather, but Justin wasn't paying attention. His mind was on something—someone—else.

Elle.

It had been almost a full week since he'd seen her. Since he'd kissed her. Since she’d spent the night.

Justin had made peace with it, at least, he'd thought he had. Except he couldn't stop thinking about her. It didn’t help that she texted him. A lot. He didn’t read a single one, just deleted them, one after the other. Certain he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

Jess had banished him from her kitchen until he could "quit acting like a grumpy bear."

The only way he knew to survive was to work. Justin threw himself into his work at Oak Bramble but also started to check out other sites in the area. He'd even called Evan and left a message, officially turning down his brother’s offer. The last thing Justin needed was an excuse to live closer to Elle. Even thinking about it made him grunt and take a sip of whiskey.

His phone buzzed. Justin checked the screen before picking up.

"I was just thinking about you," he said.

"Good line, but I'm not gonna sleep with you." Evan's voice was a low grumble. He was not amused.

Justin sighed. "You got my call," he said.

"Yeah," Evan replied. "I got your message.” He put emphasis on the word. "Couldn't even wait to tell me on the line, huh?”

Justin waited.

"So you're not coming out."

"That's right," Justin said. "I appreciate the offer, but this is where I need to be right now."

It’s too much of a risk.

He thought of Elle. Of the way he'd handed her his heart and opened up to her in a way he hadn't with anyone outside of his family in years. And look where it had gotten him.

Drinking alone at a bar crowded with yuppies and city folk, all clamoring to one-up the other.

Evan sighed. "I thought you'd say that."

Justin made up his mind about something in an instant. "Come home,” he said.

Maybe he could risk something other than his heart. Maybe it would be good for him.

"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.