But he’d gone ahead and fucked it up, hadn’t he? He’d blown it all to hell when he’d left all those years ago. Forget the reasons he’d bailed—they didn’t mean shit, not in the grand scheme of things. They could’ve been the noblest of reasons, and it would’ve meant fuck-all if Willow hadn’t benefitted from it—if his leaving hadn’t made her happy, made her life better in some way.
Truth was, though, his reasons hadn’t been noble at all. Not really. He’d run, plain and simple. When faced with reality—with what it’d mean to himandher if he stayed—he’d turned tail and gotten the hell out of dodge. Not stopping until he was all the way in California, as far away from Havenbrook, Mississippi as he could get.
He’d have been lying to himself if he said he’d thought his and Willow’s first introduction after this long would’ve gone any smoother than the reality. Honestly, he was damn lucky she’d only tossed that handful of words in his direction instead of the coffee currently clutched in her hand. And she wanted to, too. Wanted to toss that hot liquid right in his face. It was written all over hers. Probably wouldn’t have second thoughts about it, either. Not with how she white-knuckled the travel mug, her restraint evident in every rigid inch of her body.
And even though it made him every bit the asshole she’d called him, he couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over that body. From taking in each detail of her, starved for her when he’d been denied her presence for so long. Where she’d once had a fresh-faced innocence about her, a bombshell now sat in front of him. She’d done some growing up in the time he’d been gone, her curves filling out so much his fingers begged for a test drive. No longer were they the ones he’d once had memorized with his hands. And his tongue.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail exposing her long, slender neck, her cheeks flushed and alive, her eyes bright with…okay, yeah, that was definitely fury lighting those green irises. Couldn’t say he blamed her.
Her words rang in his ears, the first ones he’d heard from her lips in far too long. And he couldn’t even find fault in them.
“Always did have a mouth on you, didn’t ya, Willowtree? Least, around me you did.” His lips kicked up on the side, unable to keep the taunt to himself. Christ, he was a jackass.
His gut twisted when she narrowed her eyes, clenching her fists against her desktop. But then she took a deep breath, and he could practically see her armor clinking into place, piece by piece. Something he’d forgotten she’d even done—how could he have forgotten something like that? He’d thankfully never been on the receiving end of it, though. No, she’d put up that shield for one person and one person only—her father.
Finn had watched it more times than he could count, each instance she’d felt the need to do it, to cover up the real Willow in deference to what her daddy expected her to be, making Finn hate him a little more. Which had been a damn hard feat, considering Finn held the devil himself in higher regard than Richard Haven.
Finn watched as a false calm settled over Willow. It no doubt fooled Nola and his brother—would have probably fooled most. But not Finn. He could still see the anger humming beneath her surface. He’d always been able to read her, as long as he could remember. Looked like no amount of time had changed that.
And it seemed she knew it, too, if the narrowing of her eyes was any indication, the tick of her jaw as she clenched her teeth. No, she definitely wasn’t greeting him with open arms—not that he’d expected any different.
“Drew,” she said, nodding to his brother. Of all the things to get worked up about, her saying his brother’s name before his shouldnothave been one of them, and yet there they were. “Griffin.” She spat his full name like it was a piece of gristle and she couldn’t stand the feel of it in her mouth. “If y’all’ll give me just a minute, I’ll get the correct paperwork drawn up so we can get this done as quickly as possible.” Herso you can get out the hell of my sight just as quickwent unsaid, but Finn didn’t have any problem reading between those lines.
As soon as Willow left the room, it was clear Drew hadn’t had a problem picking up the not so subtle tension either, his eyebrows hitting his hairline as he looked at the now closed door to Willow’s office.
Nola let out a low whistle, shaking her head. “Damn, Finn. Can’t believe you made sweet Willow Haven cuss. I’m notentirelycertain, but I don’t think she’s forgiven you quite yet.”
“You don’t think?” he asked, scratching his chin. “Went better than I expected, to be honest.”
“What the hell did you expect?” Nola cocked an eyebrow. “A kick to the nuts?”
He shrugged. That very scenario might have crossed his mind a time or two.
“Maybe it was a front,” Drew said, settling in the chair to the right of Nola. “She’s probably out there now planning a welcome home party for you.”
Finn didn’t bother responding as he glanced around Willow’s office, just lifted a certain finger in his brother’s direction, letting it drop once Drew rumbled out a laugh.
Willow’s office was devoid of anything personal—no art on the walls, no vase of flowers on the side table, no framed photo of her with friends or her sisters on her desk…nothing. To anyone else, it probably looked like she preferred to keep it professional, sleek. No clutter, no mess. But Finn knew better. Knew her deepest fears and her greatest insecurities—or he had at one time. And he’d bet his left nut she kept her office sparkling and pristine, lacking any personal touches, so her father couldn’t use it as a weapon against her while she tried to perform this job under his command. So he couldn’t turn it into some kind of weakness on her behalf, as he’d been known to do a time or twenty.
Jesus, what had made her come back here? Not just here to Havenbrook, buthereto town hall, to an office twenty feet away from her daddy. To a career working for a man she’d constantly butted heads with. A man who’d made it his mission to make her feel less-than. One who never,eversaw her worth.
Nola cleared her throat, drawing his attention. She stared at him with expectation, eyebrows raised.
“What’s up, Xena?” he asked, settling in the chair on her other side.
“Look, I don’t know all the details of whatever went on between y’all”—Over Nola’s head, Finn met Drew’s eyes and exchanged a look loaded with gravity. No, she didn’t. Not many did—“but this is my life here. I don’t want y’all’s history messin’ with things. It’s already gonna be hard as hell runnin’ this by myself after y’all leave, ’specially in this town filled with good ol’ boys. The business—”
“Is ours too,” Drew cut in.
“No, I know that.” She divided a look between him and Drew. “Of course I do. Keepin’ in touch while y’all’ve been gone is one thing, but for y’all to come back and do this with me… Well, I appreciate it, ’cause you both know I didn’t have the capital by myself.”
Nola’s proposition for them to go into business together couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. Finn had been itching to domorefor a while, and though it’d been logical to move toward ownership of the bar he managed in California, it hadn’t felt right. Not like this did. “You know we were happy to—goin’ back to diapers, we’ve been a team,” Finn said. “Always had your back. Always will.”
She elbowed him—her version of a hug. “Same goes. But that doesn’t change that y’all’ll be leavin’ soon, and I have to stay here, you know? Just…” She sighed and shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. “Just go along to get along, okay? Don’t make waves for me where you ain’t droppin’ your anchor.”
With a nod, Finn agreed, because he couldn’t do much else. He and Drew had flown back to Havenbrook with plans to stay only long enough to help settle things with the new space. Nola, Drew, and Finn had purchased it together in a 20-40-40 split respectively, going into a partnership with Nola when she’d presented them with an offer too good to pass up. Of course he loved that he and Drew were able to help out one of their oldest and closest friends, butthisbar inthistown meant so much more than that. After all, it wasn’t every day he got to stick it to someone he despised. First bar in a town Richard Haven had spent his life working tooth and nail to keeppure? The poetic justice was too good to resist, especially considering his and the mayor’s history.
The plan had been for the three of them to get the paperwork settled, sign his and Drew’s names where necessary—much as Nola hated it, two male names carried more weight than hers ever could, especially in the backward town of Havenbrook with a mayor like Dick himself—approve the blueprints and construction plans, and then bail again. Head back to California, back to their lives…
