Running to the tree house, hoping to find a note, a message,somethingthat’d tell her why he’d had to leave. Why he couldn’t say goodbye.
Falling asleep with her cell phone in her hand, just hoping and praying he’d call her or text her. If not to tell her why he left, then at least to tell her he was okay.
Lying in her bed weeks later, the night she’d finally accepted he wasn’t coming back. That he’d left her, despite their plans, and Havenbrook was no longer his home.
Then months later, withdrawing her admission to Tennessee State University. Because she wasn’t the girl she’d been with Finn. He’d stripped that from her, had taken every ounce of fire she’d had and blown it out as he’d flown from town.
Her father squeezed her shoulder again, pulling her from the fog. “Sorry to have to tell you like this, Will. But I couldn’t watch you go down that path again. Just wouldn’t be right for me to sit by and say nothin’.”
She nodded as if she understood. As if everything she’d put back together wasn’t cracking at the foundation. After her daddy’s show earlier at the baseball diamond, she certainly couldn’t trust what he said as gospel. But the seeds of doubt he’d planted were enough of a push to get her to finally have that conversation with Finn. Much as she’d worried about the answer, it was time to find out once and for all why he left all those years ago.
Finn wasn’t sure it’d have been possible to have a better day than today. By the time he, Drew, and Nola had finished up serving in the square and closing up, they’d been sure of one thing: this business of theirs was actually going to succeed.
And wasn’t that a fine revelation to come to when only hours before the town’s mayor had disparaged them in front of everyone, claiming they weren’t worth the dirt beneath his feet?
Just went to show Dick didn’t know shit. Not about Finn, and not about Havenbrook. And he certainly hadn’t had the majority of his town’s interests at heart when he’d thrown up all the roadblocks for them to start the business. Havenbrook was thirsty—pun intended—for a gathering space. Somewhere they could kick back with friends and hang out without having to drive thirty minutes to do so.
Finn was damn glad they were the ones providing that to the people who’d once looked down upon him and his brother, but now saw them as equals.
His main focus all day had been finding Dick and taking care of the little matter of that cashier’s check still in his pocket, but by the time they’d gotten cleaned up long after the last firework had gone off, the square had been empty. Besides, he didn’t want to waste his time with Dick right then.
He wanted to see Willow.
While they hadn’t made plans, Finn figured her show on the baseball diamond was invitation enough for him to knock on her door. Even if it was after midnight.
He pulled up to her and Mac’s place, thankful to see lights still burning behind the drapes. Maybe, if he were lucky, she’d make his fantasies come true and let him stay the night. Wake up with her in his arms. He didn’t figure Mac would mind too much. When it came to Willow’s younger sister, she didn’t seem to mind too much at all.
At his knock, the door flew open, doesn’t-mind-much-Mac’s face as red as a fire hydrant, her glare aimed directly at him. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I—what?” Finn furrowed his brow as he scratched his jaw and looked over Mac’s head, trying to puzzle out why she’d answer like that. A joke?
“Isaid, what the fuck do you want, Griffin?” She crossed her arms, foot tapping on the hardwood floor.
Shit, maybe Mac was pissed about how the game had gone down earlier. He’d thought she’d had a good time despite losing, but maybe she wasn’t as easygoing as he’d assumed.
“Hey, I’m sorry about the game. You played great, and—”
“You think this is about the goddamngame? Shit, you’re an assholeandan idiot.”
“Mac, what the hell’s—” But his words caught in his throat because over Mac’s shoulder, he caught sight of Willow standing on the staircase, her face passive and emotionless as she stared at him. No smile. No twinkle in her eye. Nothing. His stomach twisted, the urge to go to her too strong to resist. “Willowtree? What—”
“I know you said you wanted to chat with him, Will, but I could knee him in the balls for you instead,” Mac called over her shoulder, blocking the doorway so Finn couldn’t get through. “Just say the word. It’d be my absolute pleasure.”
He stared at Willow, her questioning eyes connecting with his. She stood silent for an eternity. Finally, she said, “Maybe after we have that chat.”
Thank Christ. A chat would do Finn some good. He could find out what the hell had happened to Willow between when he’d last seen her in the square, looking beautiful as hell and smiling at him like he hung the damn moon, to now when she looked ready to murder him.
Mac shoved her finger into his chest, pressing deep as she leaned close. “She might be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m not finding myself quite so gracious given your history. Just remember I’m a fifth-degree black belt. And I’m pretty sure no one would fault me for shooting you in the ass with a BB gun when it’s after midnight, so you better be damn careful with your words. Never can be too sure who’s breaking and entering, now can you?” She spun around and headed for the steps, squeezing Willow’s arm as she passed. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
After aiming one more glare in Finn’s direction, Mac shot up the stairs, and then it was just him and Willow.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, before striding over to her. Needing to touch her, to feel her, reassure himself she was all right. “Tell me what’s goin’ on. Mac said you wanted to chat? And why is she ready to shoot me with a damn BB gun? Is it about the game? I’m sorry ’bout that. I should’ve talked it over with y’all first, but I—”
“You think this is aboutbaseball, Finn?” She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.
“I have no idea what this is about, but I’m hopin’ like hell you’ll tell me and tell me quick so I can fix it.” He reached out, intent on smoothing his hands over her shoulders, but she jerked back, out of his reach.
She stepped around him, farther away. Out of touching range. “Is it true?” Her voice was quiet. Calm. Like the eye of the storm.
