Chapter 11

eleven

. . .

Easton

We’d had dinner. We’d had cake. We’d celebrated my birthday, which had become my least favorite day of the year, aside from the fact that my sister, Emmy, had come into the world two minutes and twenty-three seconds after me.

For that reason, I wouldn’t completely curse this day.

My mother had taken Henley out to see the horses, and Archer and Melody had gone with them, as well.

I’d indulged in too many whiskeys, which wasn’t something I did often, but it was the only way for me to get through my birthday celebration every year now.

My mother was not going to let it pass without at least a dinner.

So, I numbed myself the best I could.

But this year was different because Henley was here.

Why the fuck did my mother think it was a good idea to invite my coworker, a woman I was mentoring, into our family home?

And she’d brought a goddamn gift.

Not to mention my family had taken to her like they’d known her their whole lives. I took the last sip of whiskey before turning to hug my aunt and uncle goodbye. Melody had fallen asleep on my lap before Archer scooped her up and had taken her home about twenty minutes ago. Clark and Rafe had taken off, and Bridger and Axel were just saying their goodbyes now. My mother was talking Henley’s ear off, and I couldn’t even get annoyed with her because I knew how much she missed my sister, even though my parents had just been in Magnolia Falls last weekend to visit Emmy, Nash, and Cutler.

Perks of having a rich brother. Bridger had a helicopter and a private plane, so when we wanted to go visit Emmy, we could be there in less than an hour.

“This has been so fun. I really appreciate you having me, but I should get going,” Henley said as she hugged my mother and then my father goodbye.

“It’s a standing invitation, sweetheart. We’d love to have you every Sunday,” my mother said.

“Mom,” I groaned, moving to set my bar glass in the sink as my father pulled me into a hug.

“Easton.” My mother chuckled as she hugged me next.

“Don’t make her feel obligated.”

“I hardly think she feels obligated,” Mom said as she rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the tease in her voice. “Henley, do you feel obligated to have dinner here again?”

Henley flashed that fucking award-winning smile at me before turning to my parents. “Absolutely not. I’m so grateful for the offer, and I will definitely be back because that was the best dinner I’ve had in a very long time. And the company was equally wonderful.”

I blew out a breath. “What is she going to say? Yes, Ellie. I feel pressure to come back ? I’ve had a terrible time, and your cooking will probably give me the shits.”

My father burst out in laughter, and my mother swatted him with the back of her hand.

“Stop being such a lawyer,” Mom teased as she stepped closer to me, and I wrapped my arms around her.

“Fine. Then you need to stop being so charming and nice to everyone.” I kissed the top of her head.

My mom looked up at me and placed a hand on my cheek. “I love you, Easton.”

Her eyes were wet with emotion. She didn’t know how to handle the fact that I struggled this time every year.

Memories flooded.

Grief weighed on me.

Most days I was fine, but for whatever reason, the week of my birthday was always the worst. When I kept busy with work, things were better. Parties and celebrations were the opposite for me.

“I love you, Mom.” I glanced up to see Henley watching us. “Should we head out? I can walk you. It’s on the way.”

My father clapped me on the shoulder and gave me one more hug. I told them I’d stop by tomorrow to grab the gifts, as I didn’t drive here tonight.

We said our goodbyes and made our way outside.

My buzz was still there, but it was starting to wear off.

“Your family is really great,” Henley said as we started walking.

“They are. But they can be a lot sometimes.”

“I think that’s better than the alternative,” she said, as she looked out at the river that was on our right.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, living in a house that doesn’t have that kind of life. Or that kind of love.”

Her voice was quiet, and I glanced over at her as we walked side by side. The sky was dark, but the light from the moon illuminated her, allowing me to make out her pretty face.

“I don’t take my family for granted, and I know a lot of people don’t have what we have. I’m lucky, because they are the absolute best.”

“But?” she pressed. “It sounds like there is more you want to say.”

We turned down the street we both lived on, my house being just a few doors down. “It means that my family is fabulous, and I love them. But, once a year, I’d like to get a pass on my birthday, and they refuse to allow that to happen. So, sometimes they’re just—a lot.”

She came to a stop and turned to face me after we’d made it up the steps to her front porch.

“They want to celebrate your birthday. It’s hardly a criminal offense.” She threw her hands in the air like she was annoyed with me.

Why the fuck did she care if I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday?

What was everyone’s obsession with birthdays anyway?

This was ridiculous.

“If someone doesn’t want to celebrate their birthday, they should be allowed to voice that. They should not be forced to do something they don’t want to do.”

I started walking backward, waiting for her to step inside because I was done with this conversation.

She chuckled, but it wasn’t genuine. It was laced with contempt and irritation, which pissed me off.

“They made you a nice dinner and a beautiful homemade cake, which your mother made from scratch,” she huffed, and her voice was getting louder now. “And everyone got you presents and sang to you. Poor Easton. What a horrible family you have.”

I gaped at her as she whipped around and put the key in the door. She had some fucking nerve. She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.

This is why you don’t bring coworkers to family dinner.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I shouted, as I moved back up the steps to her front door, stepping in the way just before she slammed the door in my face. “You don’t get to judge me.”

“Why? Because you’re my mentor? You judge everyone. Hell, you judged me when I walked through the door the first day that I met you.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly walk through the door. You set off the fucking alarm and alerted the entire town, which you followed by dumping scalding hot lava on me, remember?” I asked.

Her back was pressed against the door now, and I had one hand resting on each side of her head, caging her in. Her lips were plump, and her blonde hair fell all around her shoulders, and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.

I’d watched her all night. The way she’d sat on the floor and read three books with Melody. The way she’d listened to my father’s lengthy story about growing up in Rosewood River, and he’d literally started from birth until the present day. And she’d nodded and laughed and appeared interested. The way she’d handled my brothers and my cousins like she’d known them her entire life and then shifted easily to girl talk with my mom and my aunt.

Henley Holloway is pissing me the fuck off.

She was a distraction that I didn’t want to deal with.

I didn’t get distracted anymore, and for good reason.

But here I was, staring down at her like I’d die if I didn’t kiss her right now.

“I remember because you were a complete asshole to me afterward. And I get it—I’m Charles Holloway’s daughter. I just got handed a job and an office, and you had every right to be annoyed by that. But your family is what dreams are made of.” She chuckled softly. “They’re what everyone strives for, you know?”

“I wasn’t mad that you got an office. But I knew you’d be judged for it, so I just gave you a heads-up.” I cleared my throat. “But I did judge you, and I was wrong. You’re brilliant and talented, and the firm is lucky to have you. I had it all wrong.”

“Had what all wrong?”

“I thought you got this job because you were Charles Holloway’s daughter. But the reality is, the firm was lucky to get you, and they were only able to get you because you’re Charles Holloway’s daughter.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked stunned by my words.

“Thank you for saying that.” Her hands moved to my chest, fisting my tee, and I moved closer. I wanted to kiss this woman so badly, I could barely see straight. “I know you love your family, Easton. So why don’t you tell me why you were downing whiskey like it was water and why you hate your birthday so much it’s bordering on irrational.”

I hated that she was so observant.

That had always been my job.

I stepped back and ran a hand through my hair. “Goodnight, Princess. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

I jogged down her steps, needing to get away from her. She was getting too close. Asking too much.

Making me feel things that I didn’t want to feel.

“I didn’t take you for a coward, Chadwick.”

“Maybe I’m not as easy to read as you think I am.” I held my hand up to wave goodbye as she slammed the door.

Good. Let her be pissed. It was better that way. Kissing her would be a horrible idea.

And I sure as hell couldn’t have a one-night stand with a coworker. I had a strict rule about not mixing business with pleasure. And I highly doubted she’d go for a one-and-done deal anyway.

So I’d take a shower when I got home, fuck my hand once again, and blow off some steam.

But when I walked through the door, that’s not what I wanted to do. I paced around the living room and poured myself another whiskey.

How dare she call me a fucking coward.

I tipped my head back and downed the liquid.

And then I stared at my phone for what felt like hours, but in reality, was probably about ninety seconds.

I picked up my phone and sent her a text.

Call me a coward again and I’ll file a complaint with HR and get you written up.

It was funny, but I wanted her to know that I was annoyed with the comment.

Princess

What would they write me up for? Telling the truth?

The fucking nerve of this woman.

Well, now I could have you written up for being combative with your mentor.

Princess

All I asked was why you hate your birthday.

What are we, girlfriends?

I poured myself another drink because I hated that I couldn’t talk about it. I hated that I still had moments where I was drowning in grief. All these years later.

Princess

Definitely not. Girlfriends don’t give one another whiplash.

I drank the booze and set my glass back down before moving to the couch and leaning back.

How, pray tell, am I giving you whiplash?

Princess

Don’t try to “pray tell” me and throw out fancy words. You know exactly how.

Tell me.

Princess

Why should I? You won’t answer a simple question.

For fuck’s sake, Princess. Tell me how I’m giving you whiplash.

Princess

Hmmm… we swam in my pool in our undies, and then you ran out of here like someone had a gun to your head. You seemed like you were going to kiss me tonight, and then you quickly took off. You’re a game player, and I don’t play games. So, you don’t need to worry about any of it, because you are one big walking red flag.

Red is my favorite color, so I can live with that.

Princess

Goodnight, Chadwick. I’m done going in circles with you.

I scrubbed a hand down the back of my neck and dialed her number.

“I say goodnight and you decide to call me? Another example of giving me whiplash,” she said, when she answered the phone.

“Stop talking.” I walked to the counter and poured myself one more drink.

“Okay, I’m hanging up on you. This is the kind of game playing that I’m talking about. You called me, and now you’re telling me to stop talking? Goodnight.”

“Don’t hang up.” I drank the whiskey and slammed the glass down. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to ask any questions or pity me or say anything, for that matter.”

“So this isn’t a conversation even though you called me?”

“Henley.”

“Easton.”

I groaned. “I don’t want to be a fucking coward. So I’m going to tell you why I don’t like my birthday. But then we aren’t talking about it after that. Got it?”

“Got it, Evil Genius.”

“I was with Jilly for three and a half years. I thought I’d marry her after I graduated from law school. I thought I had my whole future figured out.” I moved back to the couch. It was unusually quiet. “Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“You told me not to talk, so I’m listening.”

I blew out a breath. “Jilly went on a college graduation trip with her girlfriends. She wasn’t due back until the day after my birthday. I teased her about missing it, but it was a fucking joke. I wasn’t serious.”

“I can see how that could be a joke,” she whispered.

“But she came back early. She wanted to surprise me. We were having a big family dinner with me and Emerson and the whole family. Hell, Jilly’s family was there, too.”

“Oh, God.” Her voice cracked on the other end, and she sniffed like she was trying not to cry.

“She got into a car accident on the way to my fucking birthday party. A truck crossed over the freeway, and she never saw it coming. So, I don’t like my birthday anymore because it just reminds me of the worst memory of my life. And everyone wants me to celebrate—and trust me, I’ve worked hard to get my life back—but I just want to have a pass on the day that I have to relive every year. Is that too much to ask for?”

“No. And I’m really sorry, Easton.”

“No pity, Princess. I just wanted you to know that I’m not a coward.”

“I’m sorry I called you that,” she said, and her voice wobbled.

“Don’t be nice to me now. That makes it worse.”

“Okay. You’re not a coward, but you are an Evil Genius. Thanks for telling me.”

I chuckled, but it was forced and laced with pain. “Goodnight, Princess.”

And I ended the call before she could respond.