6. Lucas

Chapter 6

Lucas

The bright blue Lamborghini, SUV-style, stopped at the lights for us to cross. I’d always liked and appreciated cars, even if my truck was more about utility than style. It got the job done, hauling stock to the store and handling the muddy roads in summer and the icy streets in winter. But this beautiful, sexy, sleek-as-hell car? It was something else.

Then I glanced up, and that was when I saw Paul Hollister sitting behind the wheel.

Holly was in Wishing Tree.

The shock was a punch to the gut. For a second, all I could do was stand there, trying to process what I’d seen. Holly’s dark eyes locked onto mine, his expression mirroring the same shock I felt. He looked the same as I remembered—dark-haired, dark-eyed, with that sharp Italian edge to his features, thanks to his mom’s side of the family. He was just as sexy as when I’d first seen him, and that realization hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

My immediate reaction should have been anger over how he’d acted at my brother’s wedding and that damn kiss.

Where was my anger?

Why the hell was Paul Hollister in Wishing Tree? Was he visiting Kai? Why didn’t I know that? The Haynes/Buchanans were all in each other’s business in various group chats, and I would have known Paul Hollister was in town. What did he want here? My mind raced, but before I could answer those questions, my niece tugged at my hand, pulling me back to the present.

“Uncle Lucas, can we build snowmen this weekend?” Alice asked, her voice full of that innocent excitement only kids have.

I tore my eyes away from Holly and forced a smile. “Of course, we can, squirt.”

I laughed, ruffling her hair as we walked back toward the bookstore. The shock of seeing Holly lingered in the back of my mind, but I shoved it down, focusing on Alice and the normalcy of the moment.

As we approached the bookstore, I glanced across the street at The Gift Emporium, which I co-ran with my brother, Duncan. I saw him inside, busy serving customers, and checked my watch—ten minutes before I was supposed to head over for my shift.

We stepped inside The Story Lantern, and Brooke was already heading my way. A sleepy Willow was on her hip.

“She fell asleep,” Brooke whispered and kissed Willow’s head. “So, I stayed to take Alice home.”

“You sure? Do you need my help with anything?”

“We’re all good. It’s N-A-P time,” Brooke mouthed the last part, smiling at me. “We’ll see you at the planning meeting?”

Planning? Shit, yeah, the meeting for the Parade of Light planning committee, the one I’d called, last-minute details.

Get your head straight, idiot.

“Of course,” I nodded.

She glanced at me curiously, but I smiled and waved as she left with her girls. Then, I headed to the back of the store. I needed a moment to process what had happened.

I found a quiet corner near the history section, away from the bustling customers and the cheerful chaos of the children’s area. I needed to ask Kai or Bailey what Holly was doing here, and I pulled out my phone, scrolling to our chat as Bailey’s name appeared on the screen.

BAILEY: Can you call me, Lucas? We need a favor. :)

I loved how Bailey used punctuation in his messaging, always throwing in a smiley face like a signature. That was Bailey—forever happy in his world and even happier now that he was married and settled with Kai.

I called, not bothering to text first. “What’s up? Is everything okay?” I asked as soon as he answered, a little sharper than I intended.

He was the youngest of the four Haynes boys, and if he were asking for help, then you’d better believe Duncan, Callum, or I would be at his side.

“Hey,” Bailey replied, his voice sounding tired and raspy. “It’s all good; I’ve got Kai’s flu…” He paused to cough, the sound rough and lingering. “Sorry, Kai’s sleeping, and I’m…” He stopped and sighed, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Bailey, you sound like you need to be in bed too,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe.” He laughed, though it soon turned into another cough. “But Boots keeps trying to snuggle with Kai, and I’m trying to keep him out of the room. Hey, Boots, leave Kai alone,” he whispered, and I could picture him shooing the cat away with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked.

“I got a message just now, or at least Kai did. It was… garbled, but it was Holly’s number. He said he’s in town, and I think he means Wishing Tree, but I’m not sure, and now he’s not answering any of my calls or ones from Kai's number.” Bailey’s voice dropped to a quieter tone, likely to avoid waking Kai. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you keep an eye out for him? And if you see him, just make sure he’s okay. He might not even be in town at all.”

“Oh, he’s here,” I confirmed.

“You’ve spoken to him?” Bailey sounded hopeful.

“Nope, seen him, though.” And his stupid-ass car.

“Thank god he’s okay. Can you find out where he’s staying? I’d do it myself, but…”

“Go to bed, and not in a fun way. I got this,” I finished for him. “I’ll find him.”

“Lucas?”

“Yep?”

“When you do find him, can you be careful?”

I was startled, “Huh?”

Bailey’s coughing fit interrupted my question—probably a good thing. Bailey hesitated, and I could hear the uncertainty in his voice when he spoke again. “Lucas… he’s been getting… I want to — ” Bailey coughed, then cursed. “Kai would want to look out for him —cough —and I wouldn’t ask for your help— wheeze— if it wasn’t important.”

“I’ll find him.”

“Lucas…” Bailey’s tone was softer now, almost pleading. “Please. He’s struggling, and if he’s here, check on him. Be kind. For me?”

Be kind. I’m always kind.

“You just focus on getting better and taking care of Kai.”

“And maybe getting Boots to stay off Kai for five minutes,” Bailey replied, another soft chuckle escaping him. “Boots, stop!”

“Good luck with that,” I said, forcing a smile into my voice. “Get some rest, Bailey. I’ll message you when I find Holly.”

“Thanks, Lucas. Talk soon.”

Holly was in town but hadn’t given Kai details. What was with the cryptic message? And why didn’t he have the decency to answer Bailey’s calls?

“All right, Holly,” I muttered, slipping my phone back into my pocket. “Let’s see where you’re hiding.”

It took me a mere thirty minutes to track down where Holly was staying, and by the time I got the answer from a friend of a friend who’d driven past a cabin with a bright blue car parked outside, my stomach was twisted in knots. Holly wasn’t just passing through—apparently, he was booked in at one of the Kissing Pines cabins for three months.

“For real? Three months?” I asked Bertram, the owner of said cabins, trying to keep the shock out of my voice.

Bertram Norstrum Junior, a local property tycoon—if owning three cabins that had seen better days made a man a tycoon—nodded, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Yep, that’s what he booked. I said we weren’t renting, what with the renovations and all, but he paid for it upfront, and that was about it. Due in on Friday.”

First of all, Friday? Today was Wednesday, and he was early. Also, what the fuck? Three months. My mind spun, the reality of Holly settling in for the winter sinking in fast. This wasn’t just a visit. Was Holly here to stay?

Oh, well, I’d check on him later, given I had a shift; only, as soon as I stepped through the door, Duncan asked, “Have you found Holly yet?”

“How did you?—”

“Bailey called me, said Callum couldn’t help, and I’m working, so he’d ask you.”

Why was I last on the list? “He’s up at Kissing Cabins,” I explained.

“I thought they were shut right now for repairs?”

“Bertram said he paid cash up-front and didn’t care if the cabin wasn’t finished.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow. “Are you going up to check on him?”

“Bailey asked me to, clearly way down the list after Callum and you,” I replied, more defensively than I intended. Duncan looked confused. Almost as if he couldn’t quite understand why I was getting defensive or standing in our store when I should be out there on Bailey’s mission. “Anyway, I’m on shift now, so how about I take over here, and you go.”

He frowned. “I was going to talk to you anyway. I’ll cover your shift,” he gestured at the quiet shop. “The kids are due soon; I’m watching out for them when they’re in the back.”

“I can do that.”

Duncan was confused and frowned. “No, I promise I’d help with Mitchell’s math homework, and you know you’re shit at that.” He was laughing, but then he must have seen something in my expression. “Um, do you need me to go instead?” He glanced back at the math textbook paperback on the counter, open with Post-it notes marking pages.

He was right; I was shit at math.

It fell on me as the only not-ill, uncoupled, childless one of the four Haynes brothers. So, I nodded and smiled, grumpy as soon as the door hit me on the way out. I headed out of town, driving the two miles up the mountain road towards the start of the High Peak pass road and the cabins before the skiing complex. The road was narrow and winding as the incline grew steeper, but the snow was still light despite the darkening skies. It wasn’t hard to spot the cabin Holly was staying in—his obnoxious car was there, standing out like a sore thumb in the snowy landscape. The personalized license plates, H011Y 59 , were just as attention-grabbing as the car.

I rolled my eyes, muttering as I parked beside the eyesore.

I knocked, but there was no answer. I tried the door, which was shut but unlocked, so I went inside, closing out the frigid air.

The cabin was quiet—too quiet. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I scanned the room, looking for any sign of Holly. That was when I saw him curled up in blankets on the sofa in front of the unlit stove.

All I could see was his forehead, but he was shivering, and I knew something was wrong. He wasn’t only cold—he was out of it. Was he drunk or on something? He hadn’t registered I was there.

“Hollister?” I called out, but he didn’t respond. I crossed the room quickly, dropping beside him and shaking his shoulder. “Paul? Holly!”

For a moment, nothing happened, and I felt a surge of panic. But then his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy, and he reached out, gripping my arm with surprising strength, his fingers icy.

“I’m so cold,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “Why is it so cold?”

I tried to ignore the surge of emotions his touch stirred up—anger, concern, frustration—all tangled together in a confusing mess. Compassion shoved aside my irritability.

“You didn’t light the stove, idiot,” I said.

I glanced around the room, spotting another heavy blanket draped over the armchair. I reached for it, wrapping it around his shoulders as I tried to get him to sit up. He was dead weight, his body limp as if he couldn’t muster the energy to move on his own. Whatever he’d taken had to be potent.

“Come on, Holly, work with me here,” I urged.

He mumbled something incoherent, his head lolling against my shoulder as I managed to get him into a sitting position.

Sudden fear bubbled inside me, but I pushed it down and focused on the task. This was Holly—he might be a pain in my ass, but he was still a person, still someone I couldn’t leave here to freeze.

“Stay with me, okay?” I whispered, keeping my voice low as I rubbed his back, trying to generate warmth. “You’re gonna be fine.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes slipping closed again, but at least his breathing was steady, even if it was shallow. I kept rubbing his back, talking to him to keep him here with me, although part of me wanted to shake him and demand to know what he was thinking, letting himself get into this state. I couldn’t smell alcohol, but vodka was a thing, and if it were drugs, then I wouldn’t know.

But there’d be time to find out what his choice of poison was later. Right now, all I could do was get the stove going, warm him up, and hope whatever he’d taken would wear off soon.

I pulled out the kindling, wood, and sheets of paper he’d crammed in. Only after I’d rebuilt it all, the fire was lit, and warmth began to fill the room did I step back and sink onto the sofa beside him. While I waited for him to emerge from his cocoon of blankets, I jotted down some clear instructions for using the stove and placed them next to the pile of supplies.

“Jesus, Holly, you fucking idiot.”