Chapter One – April
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to remember my number one rule: don’t walk and answer emails at the same time. Okay, not my number one rule. Maybe number seven.
Fine. I didn’t have rules, but if I did, this one would be important.
Why? Because unlike in the movies, when women in power suits could walk through New York City with their noses glued to their phones, this was real life.
And in real life, being hyper focused on getting shit done while also trying not to be late for a meeting had consequences.
Just ask my throbbing ankle.
But it wasn’t my fault the shoes I’d chosen made it difficult to be productive while also running late. It wasn’t even my fault that I hadn’t had enough time to answer my morning emails while sipping coffee in my silky floral robe before I left for work this morning.
No, all the blame landed squarely on the shoulders of the stupidly hot and equally annoying man I was about to meet. And instead of thinking about how irritating it would be to hear his shit when I showed up late, I’d been focused on my clothes.
More specifically, these damn shoes.
Even more specifically, how satisfying it would be for all-work-and-no-play Eric Walker to let his stuffy mask slip a little when he saw how good they made my legs look.
Which was stupid, because I didn’t even like the guy.
Not like that, anyway.
Out of all the Walker brothers, Eric was the most serious. The man rarely smiled—though, watching his siblings find their happily ever afters and blessing him with the title of Uncle Eric had started to change that a little. But in general, it bugged me that he was wound up so tight. There was more to life than work.
In fact, I was proof of that. Sure, some might call me a certified workaholic, but I also knew how to have fun. I hung out with my girls, I shopped till I dropped, I drank champagne at brunch, and when trivia night at Walker’s rolled around, I was the one grinning like a fool while I kicked ass answering questions about random stuff I’d learned on TV.
Thus, choosing these mile-high heels was an effort to show Eric there were plenty of things worthy of his attention beyond his duties running the family brewery. Not because I liked him or wanted to be a source of recreational fun for him, but because it was good for his soul to think about something other than beer, tater tots, and employee health insurance, dammit.
When I finally made it to the coffee shop where we’d planned to meet—only two minutes late, thank you very much—a quick glance through the window had me stopping dead in my tracks. Then my ankle throbbed anew as I jerked back and did a completely cartoon-worthy spin to dash out of sight.
Which, of course, meant I ran smack dab into a wall.
However, it wasn’t the wall of the coffee shop—thank god for my nose—but a wall of Sammy. The youngest Walker brother, and probably the only person in the world I’d want to run into while running away from what I’d seen through the window.
He already knew. He already knew, so I wouldn’t even have to tell him.
Well, he didn’t know everything, but he knew something, and that was more than I could say for the rest of my friends.
“Holy shit, April,” Sammy choked out, grabbing my shoulders to keep me from tipping off my heels. “What the hell?”
I steadied myself as his hands slipped away, so fucking grateful it was him I’d crashed into. “Sammy.”
As a bartender—well, now bar manager—Sammy was unusually good at reading people. It helped him a lot while determining if someone needed to be cut off or kicked out or placated so they didn’t leave a shitty tip for their server if something beyond his or her control had caused them to be unsatisfied with their meal.
And right now, I could see him doing a quick read on me. I wasn’t sure what I looked like, but judging by how hard my heart was pounding, the cold sweat breaking out over my back and neck, and the thunderous whirring in my head, it probably wasn’t good.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a narrow alley that led to the back of the shops lining Main Street. That was the thing about these Walker boys. Nobody messed with one of their own. This particular Walker was the youngest and most cheerful of the bunch, but since I was best friends with his wife and my two other best friends were married to two of his brothers, that meant I was family.
“Is it that guy?” he asked.
Shit, he’s quick.
I nodded, surprised to find my jaw suddenly not functioning. I worked it from side to side, old wounds rising back to the surface like an icy ghost of a flame.
It was funny how that happened. I could throw myself into work, fun, friends, and family, and as long as I kept smiling and kept busy, I didn’t remember.
I didn’t feel his hands on me or hear his cruel laugh.
I didn’t wince when someone outside my bubble touched me.
I didn’t say no to social events because I was worried someone would ask me how I was, and I’d have to lie.
And then boom.
One minute, I’m on my way to a meeting, thinking about the hot and annoying guy I was hoping to distract with sexy heels—fuck, I think I might be sick thinking about that part—and the next, I see the source of all my nightmares, right there in the flesh.
“Where is he?” Sammy ducked his head out of the alley and then came right back, his protective instincts on high alert.
“In the coffee shop,” I whispered.
“Okay, good. Here’s the plan.” Sammy nodded once, then held up his finger between us like he was about to say something serious and profound. “Don’t go into the coffee shop.”
I snorted as the corner of his mouth pulled up.
Oh, Sammy.
Bless him for trying to make me laugh. Jokes were his default when shit got real, though that didn’t make him any less intimidating when he needed to be. But since the threat he’d tried to steer me away from wasn’t actually on the street ready to make a grab for me again, here he was just being … Sammy.
He’d been there the last time I’d seen Cliff, though, and he’d seen him manhandle me that day as we’d stood in the grass between my family’s B&B and Walker’s Brewery. If Sammy hadn’t walked up to us and scared my ex off, I have no idea what would have happened. So even with the smiles, I could tell he was trying to figure out if he could help me again.
“You’ve told someone other than me about this, right?” he asked. His face told me he hoped to god my answer would be yes, and when I merely wrinkled my nose, he hung his head. “April, seriously?”
“Sammy, I told you to forget what you saw that day because I could handle it myself.”
“And are you?”
“What?”
“Handling it?”
I stiffened, trying to bring back the confident, sassy chick who was enough of a baller to answer emails while walking in four-inch heels—well, attempt to, anyway. But Cliff’s sudden reappearance months after I thought I’d gotten rid of him had me unable to call that girl back to the surface, and I slumped against the wall behind me with a sigh.
“If it makes you feel any better, I moved out of my apartment and into the attic at the B&B.”
“Uh… no. Crazy as it might be, that doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it tells me this is some serious shit.”
I blinked back at him, no idea how to respond. It wasn’t like he was wrong, and yet, what more did he want me to do? Did he think I wanted to give up my a-freakin’-dorable apartment and move into the one room at Granite Springs B&B that didn’t look like it belonged in a magazine?
Sammy scratched his head, looking awkward as hell. “April, you told me not to tell anyone what I saw that day, but you didn’t tell me who the fuck that guy is or what happened. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what to do here, but somebody has to do something. You can’t live like this forever.”
That got through to me. Sammy was my friend. He and his family were great people to have as friends because they looked out for the people they cared about. And so did Kate, Rachel, and Ellie, who were all happily married into his family.
And none of them knew.
I had to keep it that way, and if I stood here in this alley looking like some broken, sad little girl for a moment longer, Sammy would try to convince me to tell them so they could help me.
Or, worse, he’d take it upon himself to tell them for me.
I straightened and pasted on the same big smile I’d used the last time Sammy had seen me nearly fall apart at the sight of my ex. “You’re right, I can’t. And no, I didn’t tell you what happened or who he is, and I’m not going to.”
“April—”
“It’s fine. I promise. I’ll figure it out. It just startled me to see him in the coffee shop because I’m supposed to be meeting Eric, and I didn’t wanna deal with it.”
My voice was calm, and I punctuated my lies with a little self-deprecating laugh and a wave of my hand. Even though my pulse still raced and my head ached, I prayed he’d believe it was as simple as that.
When he only stared at me like he was worried I was about to dip out on my bar tab, my stomach rolled. But then he loosed a sigh and shook his head, and I could see that I’d won.
Whether he believed me or not, he wasn’t planning to press the issue. Not at the moment, anyway.
But if I knew Sammy, I’d probably get a call from Rachel about this tonight. The man had a thing about keeping stuff from his wife—such a novel idea, I know—and since Rachel had already witnessed other things that made her suspicious of me recently, I knew I’d have to face this story soon.
And when I did… well, I couldn’t think about that now. That was a problem for future me.
“Fine,” he gritted out. “I guess just stick with the plan, then.”
I frowned. “The plan?”
He rolled his eyes with a short laugh. “Don’t go into the coffee shop.”
I laughed with him even though that icy feeling at the back of my neck still clawed at me. “You got it. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it.”
Desperate to get away—get anywhere but here—I turned to go. Then I stopped and spun back around, nearly running into him again. “Shit, sorry. One more thing.”
“What?”
“Eric.”
“What about him?” Sammy asked, then his head turned toward the coffee shop, and he grimaced. “Oh, right. You were supposed to meet him.”
“New plan: I’ll text him and tell him I’m gonna be ten minutes late,” I said, pulling out my phone, then wincing when I saw the time. “I’m kinda already ten minutes late, but whatever. He’ll be fine. Can you go in there and sit with him and just like… I don’t know, talk shit and stall or something? Then text me when Cliff leaves, and I’ll come back.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly uncomfortable with this new strategy. “Talk shit and stall?”
“Yes. He’s your brother. Just sit down and act natural. Be your jokey little Sammy self and chat about whatever it is you Walker boys chat about. Beer, women, whatever. Well, stick with beer. It’s Eric, after all. I’m not sure if he knows about women since he can’t organize them into spreadsheets like he does with the Walker brews.”
Then again… I wouldn’t put it past him.
Sammy rewarded me with a tight grin, then shook it off. “How ’bout I go in there and tell him you can’t meet him there and to meet you somewhere else?”
I flared my eyes at him. “Because, Sammy, it would be really fucking weird for you to go in there and mysteriously tell the guy I’m supposed to have a business meeting with that I need to meet him somewhere else. So unprofessional.”
“Oh, okay, so it’s not weird and unprofessional for you to have me go in there and pretend I’m just shooting the shit with my brother while simultaneously spying on your potentially dangerous mystery stalker?”
Ew, shit. Was this what it was like to have a brother? Because as a woman with four sisters, I had to say it was fucking annoying.
Thankfully, he must have realized he was fighting a losing battle because he blew out a long puff of air through his nostrils and rolled his shoulders. “Okay, April. You win. But I’m telling Rachel, then you’re gonna tell her whatever the hell is going on so we can have your back on… whatever the hell this is. Got it?”
I glared at him, not bothering with a response as we parted ways at the mouth of the alley. He went to the coffee shop like I’d asked, and I clipped down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from Main Street before Cliff came walking outside.
How fucking ridiculous. I’d been on my way to that coffee shop, all smiley and carefree, thinking about making Eric squirm with my high heels, only to nearly come face-to-face with him.
My gut clenched as a wave of sickness came over me again. I’d thought I was free of this feeling. I’d thought I could safely move on. Even though he’d been the reason I’d moved into the attic at the B&B, I’d somehow convinced myself I was safe when he hadn’t come around again since then.
But no.
Clearly, I was dead wrong. And now I had a sinking suspicion I’d never really be free. No matter how much I’d grown and changed and healed… if he was free, I wasn’t.
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