Wrecked (Willow Creek Book 2) Read online

  "I think it might be your starter, or by the looks of this water puddle—" he pointed to the road, "—your radiator. I'll know more once I've thoroughly checked it over at the shop."

  My heart rate kicked up as panic rushed through my veins. I flicked my wrist to check the time. "And, uh, how long will that take?"

  Logan ran a hand over his beard, "Hard to say, but if it's only a fuse problem, you can be on your way before nightfall."

  "If it's not?"

  "Well, then it's a whole other story. I'll have to order parts, and your car will probably be at the shop for a few days—"

  "A few days?" I squeaked out.

  He walked over to Flynn and placed both his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, ma'am—"

  "Kenzie."

  He gave me a small nod, "Kenzie, let me drop you off at the diner and I promise by the time you've finished your coffee or tea I'll have a solid answer for you."

  "If it's all the same, I'd like to wait."

  Logan frowned and by the way his eyes narrowed, I could tell he thought I didn't trust him with my car. I wasn't going to correct him. I'd rather he thought that than admit to a stranger that I don't want to sit in a diner because I'm afraid I'd run into my ex.

  With my Mazda hooked, we started the short drive to Willow Creek. The closer we got, the more nervous I became. By the time we drove past the 'Welcome' sign, my heart was pumping to a frantic rhythm.

  "You're stuck here."

  I almost choked at the sound of those three words. Logan straightened from where he was bent over my car's engine and wiped his hands with a rag he pulled from his back pocket. "For a few days, at least," he added.

  I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. That was the last thing I needed.

  "I'm sorry I don't have better news," he sounded sincere.

  My lips pulled into a tight smile, "Yeah, me too." I aimlessly scanned my surroundings and asked, "If you can give me directions to the nearest hotel, that would be great." What I needed was a long, hot bath and to get our potential client to reschedule our meeting.

  "Hotel?" Logan chuckled. "No hotel, but we do have a pretty decent guesthouse here." He then grabbed his phone from the bench behind him and stepped away to make a call.

  I folded my arms in front of me and did a slow perusal of the auto shop. I spotted Flynn in the far corner, playing games on his tablet. He was such an adorable little boy, and the easy exchanges between him and Logan were absolutely heart-melting.

  "All set. Mrs. Davis has a room for you."

  The suddenness of his voice had me jumping on the spot; I barely resisted the urge to press my palm to my heart. "Mrs. Davis?" I asked.

  "Yeah," he let out a short whistle which drew Flynn's attention. After Logan beckoned him with a quick jerk of his head, the boy jumped up and hurried toward us. "She's the owner of the guesthouse," Logan continued. "C'mon, we'll drop you off."

  Twenty minutes later, I was 'checked-in' and standing in the middle of a pale green and yellow room wondering what else could possibly go wrong.

  Chapter 2

  I sat in the driveway with my fingers curled around the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, silently willing the strange feeling that had taken over to go away. I was perfectly happy with my life. So, where the empty feeling—that I only felt in my best friend and his fiancée's presence—came from was anyone's guess.

  I just knew it was unwelcome.

  After I took a few fortifying breaths, I climbed out of my truck. With my six-pack tucked under my arm and flowers in hand, I bypassed the front door and made my way down the side path that led to the back of the house.

  Not long after they'd gotten engaged, my friends realized that they needed a bigger place. They both agreed that they wanted to be closer to Logan's parents. As luck would have it, a property near the Jackson ranch was for sale, but it needed some touching up. If you asked me, I'd choose a house outside of town that needed work, over one in town that didn't, every single time.

  I side-stepped a few building materials to push my way through the side gate.

  "You made it," I couldn't help but grin when I spotted Harper rushing toward me, their Rottweiler tailing behind her. Deciding his human-mom was taking far too long; Dozer bolted around her and made a beeline for me.

  Digging my heels in, I braced for the doggy kisses I was about to receive, but they never came. A sharp whistle stopped the dog in his tracks. "No, Dozer." Harper admonished. "Go play." I'd seen her work her magic on him countless times, but it never ceased to amaze me. "Logan and Flynn will be here soon," she huffed out.

  I pulled her into a side hug when she finally reached me. "For you," she took the colorful bouquet I held out and gave them a generous sniff. A low, drawn-out whistle blew over my lips as I slowly scanned their backyard. "The guys are making progress."

  The amount of work that had been done in a little under a year was absolutely astonishing. Not only did they tear down the main house and build a new one, but they'd also added a swimming pool and a huge play area for Flynn too.

  "They are," I was drawn back to the present by Harper tugging on my arm and pulling me toward the house. "And once they're done, we'll have that backyard wedding Logan can't seem to shut up about." She shook her head, but I knew that she was just as excited as my friend.

  It had taken me a while to warm up to Harper. You could blame my own life experiences for my skepticism. You know the saying: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me?

  Well, I'd already been fooled once, and I wasn't stupid enough to walk down that path again.

  When we stepped into the kitchen, Harper pulled a vase from one of the cupboards. After she placed the flowers in the center of the breakfast nook, she took the room-temperature beers from me and replaced them with an ice cold one from her fridge. I unscrewed it and immediately gulped down half of the yeasty brew.

  I looked to my left where Harper was staring at me with a perplexed look on her face.

  "You okay? Something about you seems off." She folded her arms in front of her and tilted her head to the side.

  It was a little unsettling that she'd noticed. This gnawing feeling that kept eating at my gut probably stemmed from my restless night. Every once in a while my dreams would be haunted by the only woman who'd ever breached the walls around my heart. Her blue eyes always mocking me with the fake love shining in them, her gorgeous mouth always spewing lies I'd believed.

  Yeah, something was off alright, but that was nobody's business but mine. "I'm good." I gave her a wink, but I could tell she wasn't buying it.

  Her mouth opened but whatever she was about to say was lost to the excited giggle that traveled through the house. A second later, Flynn came bouncing into the kitchen, looking like a kid who'd just been let loose in a candy store.

  "Flynn, my man," I dropped to my haunches and held up my hand. "Up top."

  He smacked my palm, and his little face lit up as he proceeded to tell me about the afternoon he'd had with Logan. "Really, red?" I enthusiastically inquired when he told me about the super cool car—his words—they towed to the shop.

  "Mmm hmm, yeah," he confirmed by furiously nodding his head. "And the lady was really pretty," he whipped his head around, "But not as pretty as you, Mommy." Without pausing to take a breath, he turned his attention back to me, the words rushing from his lips, "And she was wearing these pointy shoes that—"

  In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of Logan pulling Harper to him and touching his lips to hers. That unwelcome empty feeling crashed down on my chest so hard and fast, I just about suffocated. I was happy for my friends, I really was, but I didn't want what they had. I'd tried my hand at love once and not only did my heart get stomped on, I'd lost my freedom too.

  So, why in the hell did this feeling feel a lot like envy?

  "Hey buddy," Logan's voice grabbed both my and Flynn's attention. "Why don't you go get Dozer's new toy out of the truck an
d show it to him?"

  Another excited giggle filtered through the room as Flynn bolted back the way he came. With a shake of my head, I pushed to my feet and emptied the rest of my beer. Logan dropped another kiss to Harper's lips before he pulled two more beers from the fridge and handed me one.

  "You should've called me," I said as I followed him outside. "I could've handled the tow." We settled on the newly built deck that overlooked their spacious backyard.

  "Nah," Logan answered after a long swallow of beer. "Besides, I like taking Flynn out on a call with me."

  Even though they didn't share the same DNA, Logan loved that boy as if he were his own. That love was returned tenfold.

  "Tell me about this 'really cool car' that has Flynn so mesmerized."

  A chuckle sounded from beside me. "I'm not sure if he's taken by the car or the girl." My friend shifted, so he was facing me, amusement all over his face. "But unfortunately for my little man, I don't think Miss. Mazda will be sticking around too long." He brought his beer to his lips, and after another long swig he murmured, "Those rich, city types never do."

  I lifted my shoulder in a shrug, "Guess we're making her car priority, so she can get out of our town."

  Logan let out a hum of approval, and we turned our attention to Dozer and Flynn playing tug-of-war with the dog's new toy. The silence that filled the air around us was as comfortable as it was familiar. I didn't have a brother, in fact, I didn't have any family left—not blood related, anyway. My best friend was as close to a brother as I was gonna get and in moments like these, I felt like I belonged somewhere.

  I heard their home phone ring, and a few minutes later Harper appeared on the deck, holding a beer and water. "You're driving." She handed me the bottled water before slipping onto Logan's lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Have you asked him?"

  Asked me what?

  He chuckled and pulled her even closer to him, "I'm getting to it, Sugar." Then he turned his attention to me, "We were hoping you'd use your glass blowing skills for our wedding."

  I'd happened upon the art at a festival I'd attended with my old college girlfriend. We'd spent hours watching the man manipulate the molten glass and creating the most beautiful things. In an instant, I'd known what I wanted to do with my life. I was well on my way to realizing that dream when the ground got ripped from beneath me.

  Swallowing the bile that rose in my throat, I mustered a half-smile, "Whatever you need."

  Harper's smile went all the way up to her green eyes, "Thank you! So, are we seeing you at the ranch tomorrow?"

  I shook my head while I toyed with the bottle in my hands. "I'm having lunch at the guesthouse."

  "Interesting." My friend remarked tentatively.

  I glared at Logan, "What's so interesting about that exactly?"

  Harper poked Logan in the chest and shook her head. To me, she said, "We'll miss you, but we'll stop by tomorrow night with dessert." I didn't even know when it had happened, but somewhere during the past year we'd started getting together on Sunday and Monday nights.

  Sunday nights were what you'd call family night, or as I liked to call it, dessert Sunday. All of us—Logan and his brothers along with Harper and Lizzy and the kids — got together at someone's place and stuffed our faces with pie while our competitive sides came out during board games.

  Monday nights were for the adults. The kids would have a sleepover at Logan's parents while the grownups enjoyed a night out at Joe's, our local haunt.

  "I'm going to go see what those two are up to," Harper announced. She laughed as she slipped off her man's lap. "There is nothing more sinister than a quiet kid and an equally quiet dog." Shaking her head, she walked toward Flynn and Dozer.

  "You've been spending a lot of time with Lola lately," Logan remarked while his gaze remained on Harper.

  "Mrs. Davis invited me over, not Lola." My comeback was weak, and I knew it. In my defense though, when a sweet old lady offered you a home cooked meal, you didn't decline. The fact that her granddaughter and I took the odd tumble between the sheets had nothing to do with me accepting her invitation.

  "Look, man," the seriousness in my friend's voice gave me an uneasy feeling. "I know this thing with her is casual for you, but does she see it that way?"

  My jaw clenched in irritation, but to be fair, my pissy mood had nothing to do with Logan baiting me over Lola. The way he never gave up on Harper—no matter how much shit we gave him—had my mind running to the only woman I ever loved.

  As much as I wanted to believe that love conquered all, I was proof that it also destroyed everything.

  "Lola knows what we are and she's good with that," I pushed to my feet. "We grilling some steaks or what?" It looked like my friend had more to say, but he had the good sense not to voice any of it.

  By the time I drove home, I was craving the solitude of my cabin. The deeper I traveled into the woods, the calmer my soul felt. I'd tried living in town for a while, but after spending four years of my life in prison, I needed a place where no fence was necessary.

  It took some decent negotiating, but I'd managed to buy a piece of land a few miles outside of town. Nothing could ever compare to having the woodland for a backyard.

  I rolled to a stop in my usual parking space and headed inside my spacious log cabin. With a long sigh, I shrugged out of my jacket and toed off my boots. I pulled my tee over my head and caught sight of the tiny butterflies. From their spot on my bookcase, they mocked me.

  Heavy feet carried me across the room, the hole in my chest grew with every step. Glass butterflies took up almost a third of the space on my wall-to-wall case. Different colors, different sizes scattered about. I ran a finger over the wings of the blue one closest to me.

  One of these days I would be able to look at them without the sting of betrayal or misery flooding my heart.

  Today was not that day.

  Chapter 3

  Twenty-seven.

  The number of blocks that were on the ceiling. There were also tiny cracks in the two middle blocks and in the one right above my head.

  Eighteen hand-painted pink roses decorated the white-wash furniture.

  Sixty-two pale yellow vertical and horizontal lines crisscrossed to create small squares on the green wallpaper.

  I knew these things because I'd spent my night tossing and turning, and apparently, counting everything I could. Not even the melatonin I'd taken could keep me asleep for longer than an hour at a time.

  At least I had one less thing to worry about. My potential client, Carly Williams, had agreed to reschedule our meeting. I rolled onto my side and huffed out a breath. Staring at the white curtains, I willed them to give me answers to the questions that floated around in my head.

  Bzz Bzz

  I clutched my chest and glared at my vibrating phone on the nightstand. A quick peek confirmed it was Dean calling… again. My heart drummed to a nervous rhythm, and instead of answering his call, I slipped out of bed and marched to the bathroom.

  Pulling the curtain back, I reached inside the shower and turned on the faucet. While I slipped out of my shorts and cami, my tired reflection stopped me cold. After I curled my fingers around the smooth ceramic of the basin, I leaned forward and studied my appearance up close.

  I looked as forlorn as I felt. Puffy cheeks and dark smudges beneath my eyes, evidence of my lack of sleep. I hadn't even bothered to wash my makeup off last night. I hadn't looked that pitiful since college, only then my scattered appearance had had nothing to do with sleep deprivation. A deep frown formed on my forehead and anger bubbled its way through my veins. Twelve years was a long time. Long enough to let go of your past.

  Why the hell couldn't I let go then?

  I shook my head and stepped beneath the scalding water. Tilting my head, I put my face directly in the path of the warm spray. Seconds morphed into minutes as I just stood and allowed the water to draw the stress from my limbs.

  Eventually, I grabbed a sponge, cleaned my
self and turned off the shower. It was when I was sitting on the bed, towel-drying my hair, that I realized Zoe was right.

  I needed closure.

  My heart could never fully let go of Brett because of that awful letter that just didn't resonate with the man I so passionately loved. The man who took the blame for me.

  My cellphone buzzed to life again, giving me a heart attack in the process. Dropping the towel, I leaned over the bed to snatch my phone from the nightstand. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I answered.

  "Babe, where have you been?" Dean's voice greeted me. "I've been calling since yesterday."

  Guilt ate at me because of my behavior. Dean was the kind of man that every woman wanted. He was handsome, came from a good family and along with his steady job, he had values I respected.

  "I had car trouble and—"

  "Yeah, I know," he cut in, sounding more hurt than angry. "Your dad phoned me last night."

  After I'd taken a few minutes to decompress last night, I texted Zoe—who still hadn't responded—then I made a quick call to my parents. It didn't surprise me when they weren't happy with me. My mother was absolutely mortified when she learned I'd be spending a few nights in a place that didn't have room service. The only thing my father was worried about was whether we could get Carly to agree to see me at another time.

  "Oh." I slipped off the bed and walked over to the drawn curtains. Delicately pulling them back, I peeked outside. "I didn't want to worry you," I answered weakly while I stared at Mrs. Davis's beautiful backyard. My attention was immediately drawn to the gazebo situated in the far left corner. With all the colorful flowers surrounding it, I bet there'd be tons of butterflies floating around.

  "That makes no sense, Kenzie." Dean's voice sliced through my thoughts. "We're in a relationship, I should be your first call when you're in trouble." I imagined him running a hand through his blond hair—like he always did when he was at a loss. "This is about me asking you to move in with me, isn't it?" He added softly.