Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ROWAN

“Where do you see this going?” Holly asks, gesturing toward me with a fry. I’m reminded of eating here at Ziggy’s with her a couple of weeks ago, undergoing a very different interrogation. Then, I was trying to destroy the show from the inside. Now?

I’d still like to destroy that show, don’t get me wrong, but I won’t do it if it fucks things up for Kennedy.

“I don’t know,” I grumble. Because I don’t like to be reminded that the woman I’m enraptured with is technically being courted by other men. That’s the kind of thing that’s a real blow to the ego. “It’s only been a couple of days since we started talking again.”

“If that’s what you call it,” she says with a huff.

I scowl at her. “We’re taking a wait and see approach.”

Holly guffaws and drops the fry. I deepen the scowl.

She throws a gesture toward Harry and Oliver, who are eating in a booth a few tables away. Harry looks happy. Relaxed. Like he’s not constantly writing a mile-long pro/con list in his head, even though I’m guessing that’s exactly what he’s doing. “Harry took a wait and see approach after he crop-dusted Oliver in Asheville,” Holly says, “and look what happened there. They could have started dating months ago.”

Harry had one too many of Holly’s chocolate peppermint schnappsicles last night after getting home from a long day at the house, and he spilled the whole story. I snuck into the Labelles’ house to see Kennedy afterward, just like I’d be doing right now if she weren’t out on a one-one-one date with Marcus.

Marcus is the one who bothers me the most. Jonah’s no threat to anyone but the gene pool, Colton’s too stiff to interest someone who’s as in love with life as Kennedy is, and I can’t even remember the name of the other dude who’s still on the show. But Marcus looks like a goddamn movie star, and despite his stupid rivalry with Jonah, he actually seems like a decent guy most of the time. Which makes him one dangerous asshole.

“You look constipated,” Holly says, throwing a fry at me.

“I’m angry.”

Her mouth pulls to the side. “You’re angry because your woman’s out with someone else. What are you going to do about it?”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“No, I manage that very well without trying,” she says. “But I can tell you really care about this woman, Rowan. What are you going to do about it? ”

“Wait and see,” I repeat, popping the fry she threw into my mouth. I’ve already polished mine off.

She gives me a look of distaste, although I’m not sure if it was prompted by the dirty-fry eating or the fact that I’m an idiot. Either would be a fair enough point. I reach forward and steal another of her fries.

“So you think you’re going to win this woman over by sneaking into her room every night and—”

“ Holly , watch yourself.”

She lifts her hands up, palms out. “Far be it from me to call you out for being a slut, but I will point out that you were a real buzzkill when I told you about my enemies with benefits plan with Cole.”

“Well look how that turned out,” I say with a smirk.

“Yeah,” she says, lowering her hands. Her expression is almost sad, although I’m pretty sure she’s not sad for herself. No, this expression is dangerously close to pity. For me. “I’d say it turned out pretty well.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks with fake innocence. “All the same, maybe fill me in on how you’d like your complicated situation to turn out.”

I’m almost grateful when our little sister comes around with a couple of beers. She’s been working at the brewery for the last couple of days. I guess Jay sent her out of the house because she’s an extrovert, like him, and he could tell she was desperate for company. Meanwhile, he’s been getting near hourly visits from neighbors and friends and friends of friends, many of them divorcees and widows who have heard about Kerry’s defection. So Ivy figured she might as well get going with her research. She sets the beers in front of us, and Holly gives her a mock-serious look. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we didn’t order these. This is most irregular.”

“Ma’am, your ass,” Ivy says, claiming the chair next to Holly. “And Cole told me to send them over. He said you looked like you could use them.” Her gaze shoots to me, and I’m struck again by her resemblance to myself. By the knowledge that we have more in common than I ever thought possible. “Are you talking about Rowan’s love life? Because I’ve only heard bits and pieces from all of you. Harry told me some stuff too, but I’d like to know more. This is the kind of juicy shit you don’t stumble into every day.”

“Jesus, does Harry know how to shut his mouth?”

“Not when he’s been offered peppermint schnappsicles.” She gives a jaunty wave in his direction, and when he glances over at us, he has the decency to look slightly ashamed. Oliver’s laughing. I haven’t seen him look so happy in a long time, definitely not since he was sucked back into Highland Hills’s orbit.

I didn’t sit Ivy down for a heart-to-heart talk about Kennedy because I’m still not altogether sure how to talk to her, now that I know. I’m also genuinely worried she’ll use this as inspiration for a romance novel that other people are going to read. I’ve never liked having my personal business put out as a party platter for strangers to eat. I’ve never liked getting knowing looks from people I don’t, in fact, know. I’d much prefer for people to mind their own business and leave me to mind mine.

“Harry wouldn’t need to tell us stuff if you would,” Ivy says intently, her gaze fixed on mine. “So why don’t you?”

Holly bumps her side into Ivy’s in the booth. “It’s because he has the emotional constitution of a constipated guinea pig.”

“Fuck, I have no idea what that means, but is this what’s going to happen now that Ivy’s back in town for a while? Are all of you going to gang up on me?”

“Alas, poor Rowan. We knew him well,” Holly says.

“While we’re on the topic,” Ivy says, staring at me, “Harry says you’ve been sneaking into the mansion every night.”

“Goddammit,” I say, glaring at him. “It’s only been two nights.” He must sense my attention, because he darts a panicked look at me, his earlier cool fading. He points at himself as if to say, who, me? I glare back. He’s had his last schnappsicle.

“He also tells me that he hasn’t gotten anything on Nana yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” I bite out. “She’ll slip up. She can’t help herself.”

Ivy lifts an eyebrow. “You mean she’ll be sexually harassing men forty years her junior in no time?”

My face slips into a very natural frown. I never thought I’d see the day when I wanted my grandmother to seduce someone my age, but I’ll admit that I’m very annoyed she hasn’t. I want Harry’s plan to work.

Ivy grins at me. I don’t grin back. “You’re worried Kennedy’s going to fall for one of those rich bachelors.”

I snort. She doesn’t need to sound so excited about this whole mess.

Holly shrugs. “Well, it is a valid concern.”

“Traitor,” I tell her.

Another shrug. “I’ve heard that one of guys looks like a Greek God.”

“Not helping,” I say, just as Ivy says, “Ooh, who told you that?”

“Harry.”

“Let me guess?” I say on a sigh. “ Schnappsicles .”

“Obviously,” Holly says. “So this brings me back to the question I’ve already asked at least twice. What. Are. You . Going to do?”

“I’m starting to think schnappsicles are the answer no matter what the question is.”

We all laugh, but by the time we get to the end of it, both of my sisters are giving me pointed looks. I have no idea why, and I say so.

“You need a plan,” Ivy says. “A good one.”

“I got her that dog, didn’t I?” I ask. “She loves that dog.”

“Yes, the dog was good, but the dog is not a plan.”

“Let me guess. You have one for me?”

“You said she loves Christmas,” Holly says, smiling at me, then Ivy. They’re obviously in on this together, and while I’m happy they’ve been talking, I really wish they hadn’t done their bonding over me. “You need to show her a real Highland Hills Christmas.”

I expected to hate whatever plan they decided to roll out for me, but I’m surprised by how little I hate this. I think of Jay and the tree farm. Of what it felt like when he brought me there as a kid, before so much shit went down that it buried me. I think of that tiny tree, winking in Kennedy’s window.

It’s just—

“How’s this going to end?” I ask them. “She lives in Chicago, and I live here. She loves her job. She’s helping people. This non-profit she works for helps single mothers and women leaving abusive relationships. How can I ask her to leave that behind?”

Ivy lets out a humph. “Why does she have to leave her life?”

Because I want to get to know Ivy better. Because I want to spend time with Jay and figure out what the fuck all of this means. Because this town is a part of me in some intangible way that doesn’t necessarily feel good but is undeniable.

At the same time… “You’re right. But I’m a handyman who makes toys in his spare time. I’d probably be homeless if I lived in Chicago.”

“I think there’s someone who might take pity on you,” Holly says with a twinkle in her eye, but here’s the thing. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. I need to be the kind of man who can take care of the people I love. I don’t want to be a shackle on Kennedy’s leg, weighing her down, making her unhappy because I’m a hick stuck in a city that doesn’t want me.

I shake off Holly’s suggestion. “I wouldn’t be any good in Chicago. You know I hate big cities.”

She gives a half shrug, because she does know that. I visited her once when she was living in New York, and I nearly got run over by not one, not two, but three taxis. Then we went into a bar, and within five minutes someone had challenged me to a fight.

I won. We were invited to never come back.

I rub my chest, feeling an unpleasant burn there. “I can’t see any happy ending for us.” Saying it puts a deeper burn in my chest, because I’m starting to realize I want a happy ending. Actually, I don’t want an ending at all. I want to keep following this bit of string to find where it goes, and I hope to fuck I don’t end up with nothing but an unraveled sweater.

“Oh, Rowan,” Ivy says, giving me a sympathetic look. “Did I soak up all the imagination in our gene pool?” She pretends to sprinkle me with something. “I’ll give you a fairy dusting of it.”

“Hey,” Holly says as she points a fry at our sister this time. “I imagine plenty of things. In fact, I was telling Bryn just the other day that we need to have our Matchmake Me app play songs for the user after a relationship doesn’t work out. You know, like ‘Cry Me a River.’”

“You want your app to taunt people too?” I ask. “You don’t get enough satisfaction from doing it in person?”

The fry hurtles at me, and I catch it in my mouth. I’m chewing it, enjoying the textures and the burst of salt, when Ivy says, “You need to show her the magic of Highland Hills, you dipshit. Show her that she wants to stay.”

I nearly choke on the fry, so I leave it to Holly to tell her she’s insane.

“Did you just say magic and Highland Hills in the same sentence?” Holly asks, laughing.

“You don’t live here,” I say after swallowing the fry. “Seems to me you left this place first chance you got.”

“I’m here now,” Ivy says. “I’m working at this bar. You don’t get more Highland Hills than that.”

“It’s a brewery,” Holly says, narrowing her eyes at her. “And we’re all assuming you’re going to leave after the New Year.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Ivy says. “I may want to stick around until I’m done with the book. I usually like to live the part while I write, and I just started Beauty and the Bar .” She lifts her chin at Holly. “I might even try dating someone who hangs out here, really fall into the role.”

“As long as you stay away from Cole,” Holly teases.

“What about his brother?” Ivy asks with a smirk. “He’s always here, and he is sexy as hell. I heard he punched some jerk in here a couple of weeks back for being too forward with a woman.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. No way,” I tell her. “Logan is a total man whore. Everyone knows that. You will not under any circumstances flirt with him.”

Ivy rolls her eyes and puts a hand on her hip, her blond curls bouncing. “Did it ever occur to you that I might enjoy being involved with a man whore?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I snap. “This is why earplugs were invented. The inventor clearly had little sisters.”

Holly shrugs. “Wouldn’t bother me. You can bang-bang-bang away with Logan if you want. Hey, maybe you’ll fall in love with him, and we can be sisters-in-law and sisters!”

“My ears are bleeding,” I complain.

“Nah, not what I’m looking for,” Ivy tells us. “I just want a little fun to help inspire me.”

I can feel my eyes go round. “Do you find special inspiration for all of your books?” Because she’s written at least twenty. It’s not that I’d judge any woman for finding as much “inspiration” as she pleases, it’s just that I’d rather not think of my sisters’ sex lives.

“Is that any of your business, Rowan?” Ivy asks with plenty of attitude. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly virginal.”

“Can we put a halt to this conversation? Please? I think my brain is going to explode.”

“Well, anyway, I think I’m going to stick around a while,” Ivy says. “I mean, Bryn tells me that she and Rory might want to get married before the baby’s born. Why bother going all the way back to Charleston if I’ll just have to turn right back around for the wedding?”

Holly and I exchange a look. Who’s this person, and what did she do with our wild little sister who lives in Charleston but is constantly traveling anywhere other than Highland Hills?

“Are you going through something?” Holly finally asks.

“Obviously,” Ivy says. “My father had a heart attack, and I found out that my half-brother’s my full brother. That’d be some shit for anyone.”

We both nod in acknowledgment, because, yes, that’d be some shit for anyone.

She makes a face. “Plus, I guess I have my reasons for not wanting to go home right now.”

Holly leans toward her like she’s a shark that smells blood in the water. “ What happened? ”

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” Ivy says, making a face. “But I don’t think I’m going through something in the way Rowan is going through something. He’s going through a sea change, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck’s a sea change?” I ask.

“The kind that leaves you a different person,” she tells me, eyes twinkling. “That’s what’s happening to you. I can see it happening.”

These words are still soaking into me, settling down deep just like what Ivy said about showing Kennedy the good parts of Highland Hills, when Zach and Tina walk into the brewery. He’s dressed up like he should be going to a yacht party somewhere, and she’s more casual in a sweater dress and boots.

I try to look away, but I’m not quick enough, and Zach catches my eye.

Does he know?

He can’t know.

Shit, though, there’s something in his gaze that tells me he does.

Schnappsicles.

Nerves twist through me like tree roots as he approaches our table.

“Zach’s here,” I say through my teeth.

“Who’s Zach?” Ivy asks loudly as she plays with one of her blond curls.

From the way Zach angles his head as he approaches the table, he clearly heard her. I grimace at Ivy. She gives a shrug.

Zach and Tina reach the table.

“Hey, guys, can we join you?” Tina says as she lowers into the chair next to mine. There are no chairs left, but Zach murmurs something to the table of women next to us, and it’s no one’s surprise when they cough up a chair. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if they just gave up the chair of someone who’s in the bathroom, because according to Holly, Zach’s the kind of guy who has charisma. Holly has also said that I lack any.

Thanks, Holly.

My whole body tingles as Tina gives me a significant look.

“Hi,” I say, at a lack for words.

“Hello, stud,” she says, taking one of the fries Holly wordlessly offered by shoving the plate across the table.

I get to my feet. “I need to…” I start, hoping an acceptable excuse will filter in. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s not really an acceptable excuse, but it is, at least, a statement of some sort. I leave the table without any real destination. For a second, I consider crashing Oliver and Harry’s date to yell at Harry about the Schnappsicles, but they both look like they’re having fun. There are no squirrels tonight, no dairy, no lavender-based creams—just the two of them. It looks like they’re all they need.

I think about bringing Kennedy here, about eating fries with her and Holly. About the glint of happiness she’d get in her eyes if I brought her to Christmas All Year Coffee. The discomfort I felt earlier drifts away, replaced by a kernel of happiness in my chest. I can see the image so clearly because part of me feels like she belongs here. I like that thought a whole lot. Of course, I might be lying to myself, but the picture in my head is clear and crisp, so perfect…

I wander toward the bathroom and use it since I’m there. When I leave, Zach Littlefield is waiting for me in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a wry look on his face.

“Hey, man,” I say.

“Hey,” he says, standing up straight. “You got my sister that dog, didn’t you?”

So we’re doing this, then…

“Technically, Rory got him,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t have those kinds of connections.” Or that kind of money.

He studies me as he nods. “Yeah, I wondered.”

I feel myself bristling internally, although I couldn’t say why. Maybe because I’d like to be able to do something like that for Kennedy without having my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s help. Maybe because I feel a little inadequate, honestly, when stacked up against her rich suitors. They have enough money to buy her a fleet of bulldogs. I have a creaky old family home I share with my sister and Harry, a workshop, and a bank account that’s never exceeded four digits.

I cross my arms, realize it probably makes me look antagonistic, and drop them at my sides. “She was lonely,” I say defensively. “She said she’s always wanted a puppy.”

“You did good,” Zach says with a grin that slides into a grimace. “She was lonely there. Those guys are all assholes. Big shock. It took me all of two minutes to get them climbing ornamental trellises to compete with each other. They’re not there for my sister. They’re not looking out for her needs. They just want to be on camera, you know?”

He’s studying me as he says it, like I’m a book he wants to read, which is hilarious for any number of reasons, including that neither of us are probably big readers.

“ You looked out for her,” he says.

It’s a searching remark, and I know that I could handle this one of two ways: I could tell him it was no big deal and suggest we go back out there and drink a beer together. Or—

“I’m falling in love with your sister,” I say, shocking both of us. My heart starts beating too fast in my chest, adrenaline riding my blood as it pumps through my veins. At least I didn’t tell him that his sister sat on my face the other night, or that last night I fucked her against a shuttered picture window next to a Christmas tree.

Zach lets out a jagged laugh and runs a hand through his slightly too long hair.

“Well, shit,” he says. “I thought maybe you had a thing for her, but I wasn’t expecting that.”

“If you want to punch me, can we get it out of the way now?”

He studies me for a second, then claps me on the back. “I don’t want to punch you. Yet . You keep being good to her, and you and I have no problem. You fuck up or start climbing trellises, and I will punch you, even though you and I both know that you could beat the shit out of me. I’ll still do it. It’ll have to be a sly punch, delivered when you’re least expecting it, but if you mess with my sister, it’ll happen.”

“Fair,” I say.

“Now let’s go get drunk. I think that’s what you’re supposed to do when your friend tells you he’s dating your baby sister.”

“Are we friends?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows.

“I really fucking hope so, or else I might have to renege my approval.”

“I don’t know how this is going to work,” I admit. “I don’t see myself moving to Chicago.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Tina already has half a dozen plans to get Kennedy to move here. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to share them. She’s confident Kennedy’s boss loves her enough that she’d let her work remotely.”

Something lifts in my chest, or at least that’s the way it feels. Oliver works remotely, so I know it’s possible for some people.

“Would your parents be pissed off?”

He laughs with honest amusement and gives me another back clap. “Good God, I hope so.” It’s then that I remember that his situation isn’t all that different from my own.

“But wouldn’t they take away her trust fund?” I know she has big plans for it, once the money is hers to do with as she wishes.

The amusement drips from his face, and a different look enters his eyes. “You wouldn’t want her without it?”

Horror rips through me. “No. Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I just don’t want her to get it taken away because of me. I know she wants to use it to help fund her non-profit.”

He studies me, as if looking for signs of honesty, and God, I hope he finds it. Because I’ve never meant anything more. I don’t want to be the man who takes anything away from Kennedy—I want to be the man who gives her things.

“Okay, I believe you,” he says. “You know, there was someone she dated before, a little slug named Brian or Brutus or some shit. He was in it for the money, and it took her a long time to get over being used like that.”

Anger replaces my horror, because I want to find this Brian or Brutus and tear him to pieces for using Kennedy. “Did you make him pay?” I growl.

An almost delighted laugh emanates from him. “Not in the way you’re implying, I’ll bet. But I got him banned from all the places he wanted to network. Made sure plenty of doors were closed to him.”

“I still wish someone had punched him,” I say.

“Yeah, me too,” he says with a sigh. “But there’s always tomorrow. As far as the trust fund goes, no, I don’t think my father would take it away. He’s already shunned one of his kids…wouldn’t be great metrics for him to suddenly have one less Littlefield running around, especially if she’s everyone’s TV sweetheart. Besides, she’s going to mention the company she works for every chance she gets on that show. The last thing he’d want is for everyone to think he’s the kind of asshole who’d disinherit the daughter who’s devoted to public service.”

“And your father cares what other people think?” I ask, reflecting on what I know about the man, including that he’s not Zach’s real father.

He laughs as if I’ve made a rip-roaring joke. “It’s the only thing he cares about. Besides, the only reason he cut me off is that he figured out I’m not his. He won’t cut off his own blood.”

I’m shocked he told me so easily, because from what Kennedy told me, it’s a secret that not many people know. I say as much.

He shrugs it off. “I used to care. Not so much anymore. I’ve got everything I want in life. I don’t need the approval of a man whose opinion I never much cared for or a mother who never stood up for me or my sister and brother.”

I smile at that. “You know, I think maybe we have a lot in common. Let me pretend to buy you a drink.”

“Pretend?”

“Cole gives us everything for free now that he’s with my sister.”

He grins. “By all means. I’m all for a pretending you bought me a drink, and you know that Tina and your sisters are dying to tell us what to do. Let’s let them.”

It’s then that something new burns in my chest. Hope.