Free Read Novels Online Home

Second Chance Charmer by Brighton Walsh (16)

Willow’s plan had gone straight to hell. Though, really, that wasn’t necessarily true. She hadn’t intended to stop seeing Finn entirely, but she definitely also hadn’t intended she’d be sneaking off to all sorts of illicit locations just so they could slip in some kisses and mild groping. It was like they were teenagers all over again. Next thing she knew, they’d be driving out to Old Mill Road and fogging up the windows of his truck like they’d done dozens of times before.

Though she couldn’t say she’d mind. Fogging up the windows with Finn had always been worth it back then, and it sure as hell would be worth it now. The man had definitely learned a thing or two while he’d been gone, and Willow was basking in the near-constant glow from being on the receiving end of it.

She wasn’t going to think about that now, though, as she sat at her desk in the middle of the day waiting for her family to show up for their weekly lunch date. She could go her whole life without having to explain her flushed complexion to her momma or gran, so thinking about Finn was strictly off-limits.

Her office door swung open, making her startle as if she’d been…well, as if she’d been thinking wholly inappropriate thoughts in a work setting.

Mac popped her head in. “Hey. Nat call yet?”

Willow cleared her throat and willed her red cheeks to recede. At least it’d been Mac who’d happened on her first. Her sister knew every steamy detail of her encounters with Finn—and had ripped Willow a new one for not telling her about them immediately—so Willow’s train of thought would come as no surprise.

“No, not yet.” As soon as the words left Willow’s mouth, a trill came from the computer, indicating an incoming Skype call.

“Perfect timing.” Mac tossed her purse on one of the chairs before scooting around next to Willow and perching on top of the desk.

Willow clicked to answer the call and waited for their youngest sister’s face to fill the screen. Ever since Natalie had moved away—which had been the day she’d graduated high school—they’d done these weekly chats. The Haven women—her gran, momma, and sisters—had always gotten together for weekly luncheons, and had done so for as long as Willow could remember. Seemed it was the one tradition Nat didn’t hate.

Of course you’d never catch her actually at one of those luncheons, and she always timed the calls so she could avoid talking to the whole group. Willow was pretty sure it wasn’t their momma or gran Nat had an aversion to, though. If Willow had to bet money on it, she’d guess Nat called at those particular times to avoid Rory—those two mixed about as well as oil and water.

“Hey, bitches. What’s up?” Nat said before Willow could greet her.

“Blue this time?” Mac asked, leaning down and squinting at their sister’s mass of hair. “Shit, Nat, if you keep this up, you’re not going to have any hair left to color.”

Through a smile, Nat said, “Bite me.” She pulled her long hair back and did some sort of magic so it settled into a perfectly mussed up-do. “Sorry I missed our call last week. I had skydiving lessons every day.”

Willow just closed her eyes and shook her head. She’d learned long ago there was no talking Nat out of anything she had her mind set on. And apparently this month she was set on death-defying activities.

“How was it?” Mac asked, her voice laced with barely concealed interest. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”

Amazing. ’Course, it helped that the dude I was strapped to was a tall, built, hunk of delicious man meat. Let me tell y’all, you’ve never had sex until you’ve had it after falling thirteen thousand feet through the air. My God, the orgasms he gave me. Yes, plural.”

While Willow certainly wasn’t a prude like Rory, she also wasn’t quite the loose-lipped, free spirit Natalie was. She loved talking about what she was getting up to and who she was getting up to it with, and couldn’t go a call without giving her sisters a play-by-play.

“Yeah?” Mac grabbed a handful of the candy-coated chocolates Willow kept on her desk and popped a couple in her mouth. “Whose place did you go to?”

“Why the hell would we wait until we got to one of our places? We were in a field in the middle of nowhere. Rode that man right there like he was a damn horse.” Nat leaned closer to the screen and waggled her eyebrows. “He was definitely built like one, if you know what I mean.”

That tugged a smile to Willow’s lips as Mac barked out a laugh.

“You still seeing him?” Mac asked, but Willow couldn’t concentrate on Nat’s answer.

Not when a certain someone stood in the outer office speaking with Avery and snagging her attention. A certain someone who’d just happened to have his hand tucked in her panties the night before.

“Well, well, well,” Mac said. “Things are about to get interesting.”

“What?” Nat asked. “What’s happening?”

“Shut up and listen.”

Willow wanted to tell them both to shut the hell up and maybe get out. But instead, she just sat there and stared at Finn like she was a starry-eyed teenager all over again. He wore a tight-fitting T-shirt—the same gray one he’d worn on his first day in town if she wasn’t mistaken—with threadbare jeans and work boots. In his arms, he carried a bright pink square box.

He smiled at Avery, then stepped around her and right into Willow’s office. “Afternoon, ladies.”

“Who is that?” Natalie hissed from the screen.

“Hope I’m not interruptin’ anything, but I wanted to pick up that paper you needed me to sign, Willow.”

Well, that was a bold-faced lie she hoped no one else saw through. They’d been done with the signatures for a long time. Never mind that she hadn’t asked him to stop by at all.

“Swung by The Sweet Spot on the way and grabbed some cupcakes. To thank y’all for your help gettin’ everything up and runnin’ with the bar.” He glanced away to nod toward Avery before locking his eyes back on Willow.

Lord, why did her sisters have to be there right then? She wanted to pull him into her office, lock the door, and kiss the living daylights out of him.

“Oh my God.” Natalie again, the loudmouth.

Willow realized she was just staring when Avery cleared her throat at the same time Mac nudged her shoulder. “Um, anytime. It’s my job to help.”

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze so heated she felt it from her head all the way to her toes and every erogenous zone in between. Then his lips tipped up on one side, and he gave a quick nod before sliding the cupcake box onto her desk. “All right then. I’ll catch y’all later. Have a good day.”

And out he strode, waving to Avery as he went. Willow barely caught sight of the smirk her best friend shot her since she was too busy watching Finn’s ass as he walked away.

“Would someone tell me who the hell that was already?” Nat asked, her voice sharp and exasperated.

“Funny how he never did pick up that mysterious paper.” Mac glanced down at Willow with a smirk and plucked the cupcake box from the desk. “Let’s see what he brought. Ooh…gingerbread! Pretty sure The Sweet Spot only has that in—”

“November,” Willow said, her mouth watering. Gingerbread was her absolute favorite, but it was a specialty cupcake the bakery only carried once a year. Which meant—

“Swung by my ass,” Mac said. “Finn had to have placed a special order for these. That man is sweet on you, Willow Grace.”

Finn?” Natalie asked. “As in Griffin Thomas, one of the trouble twins, the guy who broke our dear sister’s heart and made our daddy nearly lose his ever-lovin’ mind? That Finn?”

Mac inclined her head in acknowledgment. “The one and only.”

It was a good thing Mac was speaking for Willow, because she was still stuck on the fact that this wasn’t a last-minute thing like Finn had made it out to be. He’d planned to get these for her. Had made a special effort to do so. On top of that, he’d had to have figured out they were her favorite in the first place.

Damn. She was trying really hard not to swoon her pants off for her soon-to-bail-again ex-boyfriend, but it was getting harder and harder when he did things like this. Since their encounter at his bar, he’d done exactly what he’d promised her he would—he’d worked on showing her it was different this time. It’d started with a lunch of her favorite sandwiches magically appearing on her desk the following day when she hadn’t had time to run home for a break. And then he’d taken it upon himself to make sure those heavy as hell tables at the cafe stayed where they were supposed to, even though it’d been a constant fight up until then. Now, this. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be halfway to falling for him all over again just in time for him to leave.

“Ho. Lee. Shit,” Natalie said. “I was gonna ask y’all about the rumor the Thomas boys bought the old soda fountain to renovate it, but I guess I don’t have to anymore.”

“Who’d you hear that from?” Willow asked, finally finding her voice. She was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but it was an easy question to ask and one her sister would answer. Nat and Nash—the person currently helping Finn and Drew renovate—had been thick as thieves growing up. From what Willow knew, they’d stayed pretty close even as Natalie had traipsed all over the world the past several years. There was little doubt he’d been the one to fill in her sister, but Willow was desperate to keep the conversation from her and Finn.

“Nash, obviously, and quit tryin’ to change the subject. My biggest concern when I called was finding out if Daddy was losing his shit over those two being back, but I think we have more important things to talk about. Like the fact that one of those boys just brought you cupcakes.”

“Oh, he’s bringing her a helluva lot more than just cupcakes if you know what I mean,” Mac said, taking a huge bite of one of the caramel buttercream-topped beauties.

“Is that right?” Nat narrowed her eyes at Willow. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

“Not particularly.”

“Maybe it’d help if you were more specific in your questions, Nat,” Mac offered. The traitor. “Maybe askin’ if she’s been havin’ any secret sleepovers with a certain someone would get you further.”

“I hate you,” Willow mumbled under her breath, elbowing Mac’s thigh.

No!” Nat’s eyes widened, and she shot forward, her face crowding the screen. “Oh my dear sweet sparkling baby Jesus in heaven, tell me everything!”

Before Willow could even register they had company, Rory stepped into her office, followed by their momma and gran. “Tell you everything about what? And why don’t I ever get Skype calls? I never even get phone calls.”

Willow snapped her head up and slammed her laptop shut, effectively cutting off Natalie’s call. There was absolutely no way she was going to let Nat stay on the line while her momma, gran, and the person set on this earth specifically for the task of making Willow look bad were in the room. Her youngest sister would shout out the details because she gave zero shits about that kind of thing, despite the fact that it wasn’t her story to tell.

Willow would have to text her later and apologize, though she knew that wouldn’t suffice for long. Natalie would blow up Willow’s phone until she finally gave in and answered. And then the pestering wouldn’t stop until Willow spilled every dirty detail of what was happening, had happened, and what would happen between her and Finn.

“Nothing. No one.” Willow pushed back her chair and stood, smoothing out her skirt. “Y’all ready to go?”

Mac snorted quietly. Out of the side of her mouth, she whispered, “Smooth.”

Willow elbowed her in the side and slipped around to the front of her desk, greeting her momma with a kiss on the cheek.

Momma sighed. “I wish Nat would try to time her calls a little better so she could catch all of us. Honestly, that girl doesn’t think sometimes. If we hadn’t stopped over to see your daddy first, we could’ve chatted with her.”

“Next time.” Willow grabbed her purse and shuffled in behind as her momma and sisters filtered out of her office, offering her elbow to her grandmother. “Hey, Gran,” she said, bending to press a kiss on her cheek.

“Afternoon, honey.” Her grandmother wore a bedazzled track suit—she must’ve owned a dozen, each one more hideous than the last—her short, dark hair perfectly coiffed from the salon she went to every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to get styled. As she looped her hand through Willow’s elbow, she pursed her lips. “Talked to Maxine earlier today.”

Maxine, the owner of said salon, and her grandmother had been best friends for going on seventy years now. And Lord, were they trouble when they got together.

“Oh, yeah? What’d she have to say?”

She hummed low in her throat and slid a look at Willow out of the corner of her eye. “Apparently, one of the Thomas boys placed a special order for some of her granddaughter’s specialty cupcakes.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm. Say, wasn’t that a box of The Sweet Shop’s cupcakes on your desk?”

Willow nearly swallowed her tongue, her heart speeding into a gallop. She’d been worried this whole time about Finn giving them away, but in the end, it’d come down to Willow turning as red as a tomato in front of her gran and spilling every single sordid detail.

Gran tsked. “Need to give you some lessons on being discreet. For shit’s sake, girl, you might as well be wearing a billboard that says I’ve been up to no good.”

Willow’s eyes grew wide, and she stumbled a bit as they made their way down the hallway toward the front door. The others led the way and were, thankfully, oblivious to their conversation. She opened and closed her mouth half a dozen times, but nothing came out. What the hell could she say, really?

“See? That’s what I mean.” Gran shook her head. “Worst poker face I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’ve lived a long damn time, Willow Grace.”

Willow swallowed. “I know you have, Gran.”

“Yes, well. About time you got up to some nonsense. Last time was right about ten years ago if I remember right.” She shot Willow a side-eyed glance, even as Willow attempted to pretend this was fine. Totally fine. Completely, one hundred percent fine. “Oh, relax. I won’t tell your daddy. That son of mine could stand to get the two-by-four removed from his ass and have a little fun.” She patted Willow’s arm and gave her a wink. “Just stick with me, honey, and I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

Of that Willow had no doubt.

WILLOW DIDN’T COME out to Old Mill Road very often—or ever, really. Hadn’t had much of a reason to since Finn left. For one thing, it held a lot of memories she wasn’t sure she’d wanted to face. And for another, she was a grown woman, and if she wanted to see someone, she didn’t need to sneak out to the middle of nowhere to do so.

Except that wasn’t exactly true now, was it?

Because despite being a grown woman, she was still sneaking around with a Thomas boy while they got up to no good. Which was how she found herself leaning against the side of her car, watching the breathtaking rainbow of colors as the sun set. The comfort of it, even being out here in the middle of nowhere, was like a blanket wrapping around her.

As soon as she’d slipped back into her office after lunch with her family, she’d sent a text to Finn, thanking him for his delivery and asking if he’d meet her later that night. She hadn’t heard back from him. For all she knew, he hadn’t even gotten her text or had no intention of—

The rumbling of Finn’s borrowed truck on the deserted road cut off her thoughts. He brought it to a stop next to her car, the wheels kicking up a cloud of dust behind it. She couldn’t deny how relieved she was to see that beat-up truck. To see Finn slide out of the cab and stride straight toward her, his eyes dark and hungry.

He stopped mere inches from her, his fresh scent invading her lungs as she inhaled deeply. His wet hair confirmed her suspicion that he’d just showered—a fact that, for some reason, just made her want to mess him all up.

This was new territory for them—her making the first move. Asking him to come to her. And Finn proved that by standing there, so close to her but not touching, waiting for Willow.

“Hi.” Groundbreaking conversationalist, she was.

His lips quirked up at the side before he glanced around, taking in their remote location. “Been a long time since I’ve been out here,” he said.

She looked around at the clearing, a quiet little spot they’d stumbled upon one night after a shift at the shelter. A small pond—one they’d swum in too many times to count—and an old, long-forgotten barn were the only interruptions in an otherwise giant swath of fields as far as the eye could see.

“Me too.” It’d always been their special place, which was why she’d never shared its existence with another soul. Mac didn’t even know about it.

Finn’s eyes darkened and dropped to her lips as he licked his. “And what made you want to come all the way out here tonight?”

She lifted a shoulder. She couldn’t explain it, really. She’d just been feeling the urge to…be with him. Not sex—though that always crossed her mind—but be in his presence. Talk to him, learn the things she didn’t know, fill in the huge gap of time for which she had no reference. Not knowing how to put that into words, she said, “Just wanted to say thank you. For the cupcakes.”

“Swinging into the bakery and grabbing them for you hardly constitutes all this fuss.”

“Finn…”

He mocked her tone. “Willow…”

“C’mon now, don’t do that.” She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I know it was a bigger deal than you’re makin’ it out to be.”

For a long moment, he stared at her thumb rubbing tiny circles along his inner wrist. Finally, he asked, “Are they your favorite?”

“You know they are.”

“Then it’s no big deal at all.” He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her, bracing his hand at the small of her back. Lord, she got tingles every time he touched her. Tingles that zipped all through her body, pinging this way and that, before settling low in her belly. Building. Growing.

“Why’d you ask me out here, Willowtree?”

“I…I already told you. To thank you.”

With his other hand, he cupped her neck, his thumb brushing maddeningly along the underside of her jaw. “Coulda done that in the text you sent tellin’ me to come here. Or you coulda stopped by the bar after work. You coulda done it a dozen different ways, but you didn’t.”

She couldn’t very well tell him that besides wanting to be in his presence, she’d also hoped they could take advantage of the secluded location to sate the lust that’d overtaken her. While they’d gotten in some heavy making out and had rounded a few bases during all their sneaking around, the last time he’d been inside her had been that day in his bar. When he’d made her lose her mind right up against the wall. Made her lose her mind and crave him tenfold. The bastard.

“I just… I—” She snapped her mouth closed, swallowing back the words. Saying all that was too much, made her feel too vulnerable when that was the last thing she wanted to feel around him. If this was going to work between them, she needed to stay one hundred percent in control.

Something about her body language must’ve tipped him off, because instead of pressing, he simply dropped a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the truck. “Sweet as this invitation was, I didn’t figure you planned to do much in that tiny toy car of yours.”

“Hey, I like that tiny toy car.” She elbowed him in the side then glanced at her little Prius. It was perfect for tooling around town and getting her where she needed to go, but it wouldn’t serve Mr. Six-Foot-Two very well. And, truth be told, she hadn’t thought much past getting him out here so they could be alone. Some planner she was. “Though I guess you’re right…”

“Good thing I thought ahead.” He dropped his arm from her shoulders and pulled down the tailgate. The bed of the truck was piled high with blankets and half a dozen pillows, a perfect, cozy nest. “What’d you say, Willowtree? Wanna look at some stars with me?”

The words made her pause, made her heart skip a beat. They’d been the exact ones he’d said to her, in this exact location, more than a decade earlier. It’d been their first date, and she’d been such a mix of nerves and excitement, she’d been worried she’d throw up her lunch.

Finn hadn’t had much money, and Willow hadn’t cared if they’d gone out to eat or to a movie like all her friends tended to do on their dates. Instead, he’d driven them around in his beat-up truck—one so decrepit, she’d prayed it would run long enough to get them back home safely—until they’d found this place. That decrepit truck had lasted dozens of times, taking them from town out to their little pocket of paradise and back again.

Damn. This was bad. So bad. She could actually feel her walls crumbling. Cracks and fissures on every surface she’d erected around her heart. Trouble was, even though she knew it was bad, knew it was happening, she had no desire to stop it. She’d spent years feeling nothing more than a mere blip of attraction to a small handful of men. With Finn, it was different, a single star compared to the whole galaxy. It was intoxicating to feel this mix of desire and chemistry again.

As long as she kept things on track, it’d be fine. As long as she kept reminding herself this was temporary, that Finn wasn’t there to stay—that their affair would end, again—she’d be fine.

So she smiled up at him, dipping her chin in answer.

“Attagirl.” He lifted her straight up into the truck bed before jumping in after her.

“Awful cozy up here, Griffin Reilly.” She settled back against the pillows stacked along the cab of the truck, her legs stretched out in front of her. “What, exactly, were you plannin’ on gettin’ up to back here?”

He lay next to her, the arm closest to her folded behind his head, as if offering his chest for her to snuggle into. Not that she was going to do that. Snuggling was something couples did, and that was one thing they definitely weren’t.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuatin’, Miss Haven. I’d only planned to look at the stars.” He pointed to the sky and twirled his finger in an unknown pattern. “Thought we might try to make some dirty pictures out of what we see.”

She laughed and followed where he pointed. “That sounds more in line with what I know of you.”

He gasped, dropping his hand to his chest as if he were affronted by her words. “Me? You’re the one who came out here with plans to…what? No blankets in your car, no pillows, no picnic basket, or iPod to listen to.” He leaned close, dipping his head down to whisper into her ear. “Were you hoping I’d fuck you up against that tree, or that I’d send you to your knees in the field and take you from behind?”

Sweet Lord in heaven, his words did nothing to abate the burning low in her belly, the ache that’d settled permanently between her legs. She tried not to let her reaction show when she said, “Actually, I thought we might go for a swim.”

Finn hummed, not moving his mouth from her ear, and the sound sent ripples of need down her spine. “Pity. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

Funny. Neither did she. They never did—hadn’t since the first time they’d done it.

She turned her head so they were nose-to-nose, his warm breath whispering across her lips. “Since when has that stopped you?”

He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, then trailed a single finger from her temple to her jaw. Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck. “You know what’s funny? Everyone thinks you’re so innocent, but really you’re a terrible influence on me.”

She laughed, and he joined along, his puffs of breath tickling her collarbone. When he didn’t respond to her original request, she pulled back so he’d lift his head, their noses once again brushing. “So? You gonna let me be a terrible influence on you and drag you skinny-dippin’ with me?”

The look he pinned her with said if they did this, they’d be doing a whole lot more than skinny-dipping when they got in that water.

Which was exactly what she’d been hoping for.

IT WAS ALMOST midnight before Willow got home, so late the thought that she needed to sneak in to the guesthouse didn’t even enter her mind. She slipped out of her car, shut the door, and stepped onto the front walk, head down as she smiled to herself, remembering the feel of Finn’s arms around her, his whispered words as he’d taken her in the water under the moonlight.

“Awful late night, honey.”

Willow jolted, her head snapping up. Her grandmother sat in one of the beat-up rockers she and Mac had purchased for their tiny excuse for a porch, wearing her housecoat and a pair of scuffed slippers.

“Gran! You scared the livin’ daylights out of me.”

“Mm-hmm, and I’m sure you bein’ jumpy has nothin’ to do with you bein’ up to no good tonight, isn’t that right?”

Willow’s face heated, not only from the thoughts that’d just been running through her mind, but from what she’d gotten up to in those thoughts. “What? I wasn’t—”

“There a storm somewhere in the county I didn’t hear about?” Gran scanned Willow from head to toe, making her feel like she was standing there naked instead of fully clothed. “Better question, if there was, how are your clothes dry, but every other part of you is soaked to the bone? Your hair is positively dripping.”

Willow reached up and patted the wet strands. Soaked, indeed. That was because, as prepared as Finn had been, he hadn’t thought to bring towels. And as they’d already established, Willow hadn’t thought to bring anything but herself. She was a mess. A completely sated, blissed-out mess. “Umm…”

“Mr. Thomas must give out some excellent cupcakes to deal with all this nonsense.”

Willow choked on a laugh, her eyes bulging as she stared at her grandmother. There was little doubt cupcakes was a euphemism for Finn’s dick—something she definitely didn’t want to discuss with her grandmother, for heaven’s sake.

“Oh, honey, I’m old, not dead. And that’s one fine-lookin’ man you’ve got there.” She pushed to stand and shuffled her way to Willow, patting her arm as she passed.

The path between here and her parents’ house was well lit, so she wasn’t worried about Gran finding her way. Still, she said, “You want me to walk you over?”

But Gran just waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. Go on in, now, before your daddy comes out lookin’ for me. And dry that hair before you catch a cold.”

Willow stood rooted in place, staring after her grandmother until she slipped into her parents’ house, and Willow was out there all by herself. Even though Mac and Avery—and, shit, now Nat—knew about this thing she had going with Finn, she couldn’t deny it felt kind of…nice…to have someone else in on it. Especially when that someone else encouraged the madness.

What was it her gran had said earlier? It was about time Willow had gotten up to some nonsense? She couldn’t agree more.