“Actually, my business partners should be here any minute. We’ll probably need to wait for them to go over everything.”
Willow cocked her head as she stilled her hands. “Business partners?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t afford it by myself, so I wrangled some old friends into buyin’ it with me.”
Willow tried to remember if that information had been on any of the paperwork that’d crossed her desk. It might’ve been, but the truth was, she hadn’t had a chance to even glance at it, let alone familiarize herself with the ins and outs of Nola’s venture. Her daddy had her running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to take care of Gloria’s unattended work on top of Willow’s already precariously balanced workload. “Oh, I apologize. I must’ve assumed it was just you.”
Nola shrugged. “Most people do.” She glanced at her phone, typing out a quick text. “That’s them now. They grabbed a coffee at Higher Grounds and are on their way over.”
Willow took a healthy swallow of her coffee, nearly sighing as the good-as-gold elixir worked its way through her system, thankful for the wake-up. “So, what made y’all want to start up a boutique?” she asked.
Nola’s brows shot up on her forehead. “A boutique? We’re not startin’ a boutique.” She tossed her head back and laughed, slapping her hand on her thigh. “Lord, the thought of the Thomas boys running a boutique is funny as hell. Can you imagine?”
Willow’s lips curved at the corners, Nola’s laughter contagious. “Oh, I just thought—” She froze as Nola’s words finally caught up with her.
It’d been a long time since she’d heard those two words together—thoseThomas boysare nothin’ but trouble. Why you runnin’ around with one of ’em, Will?—and she had to remind herself to breathe.
Just breathe.
Maybe Nola didn’t mean who Willow’s memory automatically called up. And of course that’d been where her mind had gone—after the dream and then the false sighting, it was no wonder she had Finn Thomas on the brain.
It’d been so long since he’d left, it was easy to forget Nola and the Thomases had run around together in high school. But that didn’t mean anything. Surely, they weren’t still in contact. Finn hadn’t been back in ten long years, and he sure as hell hadn’t called or sent so much as a letter, despite claiming he’d been desperately in love with her. Certainly it’d been the same for everyone else in town, hadn’t it?
“Who—” Willow cleared her throat, smoothing a hand over the papers on her desk. Bracing herself for the answer she feared. “Who exactly are you partnering up with?”
“Oh, you remember—”
A knock cut off Nola as Avery pushed the door open and poked her head through the crack. “Willow? Miss Nola’s partners are here.” She widened her eyes and mouthedHoly shit, there’s two of themwhile fanning her face. Then she pushed the door open the rest of the way, allowing the two men to walk into Willow’s office.
And her whole world stopped spinning. Just froze entirely.
History in the form of heartbreak strolled right through her door. Willow couldn’t talk—could barely breathe. Her eyes landed first on the man closest to her—the one, she realized, she’d seen walk into Higher Grounds only fifteen minutes earlier. He was tall, dark, and handsome, just as he’d been years ago. Nothing short of drool-worthy, as her assistant and best friend had pointed out.
But he wasn’t the one who drew her eyes. He wasn’t the one whose very presence was a magnetic pull Willow couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried. No, that belonged entirely to the man who stepped in behind his twin.
While only minutes before she’d been almost saddened at the thought the spark between them could somehow be gone, she nowyearnedfor that separation. Because it was damn embarrassing sitting in front of the man who’d stomped all over her heart with her nipples noticeable from a fifty-foot distance. She tried to appraise him with cool, detached professionalism, but that was a joke. There was no denying the zing of awareness that always flared in her body at his nearness. And damn it all to hell if it hadn’t lessened any with time.
Looking like a near mirror image to the man Willow’d seen across the street, Griffin “Finn” Thomas stood in front of her for the first time in a decade, the breadth of his shoulders blocking out the harsh sun from the window at his back. His dark hair was shorter than it’d been when they were younger, cropped close but still carelessly messy. At least a day’s worth of stubble covered his jaw, probably more like two or three. The cotton of his T-shirt stretched over muscles that’d popped up since she’d known him, worn jeans encasing strong legs. Strong,longlegs—he’d somehow gotten even taller since she’d last seen him when he’d been just nineteen, and Lord have mercy, had he filled out. Where once he’d been tall, almost rangy, now he was fine-tuned with solid, carved muscles, the kind men worked hard for—either at the gym or at life. And if Willow knew anything at all about Finn, she’d place money on the latter.
A memory of work-roughened hands sliding up the insides of her thighs, fingers brushing over the brand on her hip, breath hot in her ear, and lips soft against her neck flashed in her mind before she blinked it away. Memories didn’t have any place here—certainly notthosekinds of memories.
“Hey, Willowtree,” Finn said, his voice just as rich and smooth as she remembered.
His old nickname for her set her on edge, tightening her nipplesandher jaw all at once, snapping her composure like a twig. He’d given it to her all those years ago, before they’d become a couple, saying she’d always looked sad like a weeping willow. And then he’d pulled her into his orbit, and her sadness had lifted because for the first time in her entire life, someone had seen her for exactly who she was. Seen her, and apparently concluded the real her wasn’t worth sticking around for.
Oh, he had some nerve coming back here, strolling into her office like he hadn’t made her fall in love with him only to take her heart, chain it to the hitch of his car, and drag it behind him as he’d peeled out of town, never to be seen or heard from again. Like he hadn’t upended her plans, hadn’t changed the course of her life when he’d so callously bailed on their future. Like he hadn’t disappeared like a ghost without so much as a backward glance.
In the past ten years, she’d had a lot of time to fantasize about what she’d do if she ever saw Finn Thomas again. What she’d say, how she’d look. What she’d be wearing and how she’d act. In her daydreams, she’d always had on her best outfit—something that minimized her ample booty and maximized her barely there breasts. Her hair was always salon-day perfect, her makeup flawless. Sometimes, she’d give him a piece of her mind, tear him up one side and down the other. Sometimes, she’d be with another man—someone infinitely good-looking who’d dote on her. They’d laugh and joke, lean in for a kiss as they passed Finn. Sometimes, she’d walk by as if she didn’t recognize him.
But never, not once in all the scenarios she’d dreamed up over the years, did she sit there looking like hell warmed over, wearing two different colored shoes, no makeup, and dirty hair pulled back into a ponytail, just…staring.
Silence reigned for far too long, blanketing the room until it nearly smothered her. Only when Avery cleared her throat did Willow manage to pull her head from her ass.
She clenched her teeth, fisted her hands… Tried to bite back the words that were on the tip of her tongue, because they certainly weren’t professional. And Lord knew she’d already been unprofessional enough for one morning, strolling into an appointment fifteen minutes late, without a clue as to the details of said appointment. Besides that, the words certainly weren’tWillow.She didn’t lose her temper. She didn’t snap. Those qualities belonged solely to her daddy.
But, truthfully, after thespectacularstart to her day, there was really no holding back anything. Not when her worst memory greeted her as if nothing had happened to cause that painful ache in her chest. “You’ve got some nerve showing up in my office after all this time, asshole.”
Finn Thomas could’ve spent every day of the past ten years preparing for this reunion, and it still would’ve knocked him on his proverbial ass. From the day all those years ago when he’d walked into the animal shelter they’d both worked at as teens and saw Willow Haven standing there, something had sparked between them. She’d been everything good and pure in his dismal life—sunshine and light, happiness and home-cooked meals, porch swings and a dip in the lake on a hot summer afternoon. It was a wonder she’d ever given him the time of day, never mind actually letting him get close enough to taste all that heaven.
