Prologue
Alabama – Eleven Years Ago
Rain pelted from the angry sky, and heavy gusts of wind howled through the trees, which thrashed in the blackened night. In agony, I ran, sure my heart had to be beating as loud as the thunder that cracked through the heavens above.
I gasped when my foot slipped on the slick, muddy ground, and I stumbled forward, landing hard on my hands and knees. I cried out, unsure where the pain was coming from—my mind or my heart or my torn flesh.
Why would they do this to me?
I wept toward the ground, stricken with grief, with betrayal, before I heaved myself back onto my feet, trying to find traction. I staggered toward the house, which was lit up like warmth and light just off the road. Clutching the wooden railing, I propelled myself forward and then flung open the door and fumbled inside.
I whimpered in misery when I paused to look around the room. Loss hit me as hard as the storm that raged outside.
Why would they do this to me? How could they be so cruel?
It took about all I had, but I forced myself to move, knowing I couldn’t stay. I had to leave. I had to get away. Choking back sobs, I clung to the banister and hauled myself upstairs and to my room. Knees caked in mud and blood, I dropped to the floor and dug out the suitcase from beneath the bed. I staggered to my feet and headed for the closet.
Tears clouding my vision, I tore clothes from their hangers and shoved them into the suitcase I’d tossed onto the bed, my movements becoming more frantic with each piece I ripped from its spot. The urge to escape only intensified when I moved to the dresser. Distraught, I ripped the drawers from their rails and tipped them upside down, dumping what would fit into the suitcase.
The whole time, I struggled to restrain the sobs bound in my throat. To keep them quiet. To pretend it hadn’t happened. To pretend I didn’t have to do this.
With shaking fingers, I tugged at the zipper.
“Rynna, what’s going on?” The sleepy voice filled with concern hit me from behind.
Torment lashed like the crack of a whip. My eyes slammed closed, and the words trembled from my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Gramma, but I’ve got to go.”
The floor creaked with my grandmother’s footsteps. She sucked in a breath when she rounded me, shocked by my battered appearance. “Oh my lord, what happened to you?” Her voice quivered. “Who hurt you? Tell me, Rynna. Who hurt you? I won’t stand for it.”
Vigorously, I shook my head, finding the lie. “No one. I just . . . I can’t stay in this stupid town for a second more. I’m going to find Mama.”
I hated it. The way the mention of my mother contorted my gramma’s face in agony.
“What are you sayin’?”
“I’m saying, I’m leaving.”
A weathered hand reached out to grip my forearm. “But graduation is just next month. You’ve got to do your speech. Walk across the stage in your cap and gown. Never seen anyone so excited about somethin’ in all my life. Now you’re just gonna up and leave? If you can’t trust me, then you can’t trust anyone. Tell me what happened tonight. You left here just as happy as a bug in a rug, and now you aren’t doing anything but runnin’ scared.”
Tears streaking down my dirty cheeks, I forced myself to look at the woman who meant everything to me. “You’re the only person I can trust, Gramma. That’s why I’ve got to go. Let’s leave it at that.”
Anguish creased my grandmother’s aged face. “Rynna, I won’t let you just walk out like this.”
She reached out and brushed a tear from under my eye. Softly, she tilted her head to the side, that same tender smile she had watched me with at least a million times hinting at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t you ever forget, if you aren’t laughing, you’re crying. Now, which would you rather be doin’?” She paused, and I couldn’t bring myself to answer. “Wipe those tears, and let’s figure something out. Just like we always do.”
Sadness swelled like its own being in the tiny room. Loss. Regret. Like an echo of every breath of encouragement my grandmother had ever whispered in my ear. “I can’t stay here, Gramma. Please don’t ask me to.”
With the plea, my grandmother winced. Quickly, I dipped down to place a lingering kiss to her cheek, breathing in the ever-present scent of vanilla and sugar, committing it to memory.
I tugged my suitcase from the bed and started for the door.
Gramma reached for me, fingertips brushing my arm, begging, “Rynna, don’t go. Please, don’t leave me like this. There’s nothing that’s so bad that I won’t understand. That we can’t fix.”
I didn’t slow. Didn’t answer.
I ran.
And I didn’t look back.
One
Rynna
Leafy shadows flashed across the windshield, interspersed by the blinding strikes of sunlight that burned from the sky as my car passed beneath the heavy canopy of trees where I traveled the winding two-lane road.
The closer I got, the harder my heart beat within the confines of my chest and the shallower my breaths grew. Cinching down on the steering wheel, I peered out at the worn sign on the side of the road.
Welcome to Gingham Lakes, Alabama, where the grass is actually greener and the people are sweeter.
Anxiety clawed through my nerves.
It’d been eleven years and what felt like a lifetime since I left the small city that could hardly be considered more than a town. I’d promised myself I’d never come back.
And there I was.
I just wished I had broken that promise sooner. Not when it already felt as if it were too late.
“Earth to Ryn.”
I jumped when the voice boomed through the car speakers. I was losing it. It seemed fitting. I’d been questioning my sanity ever since I’d signed on that dotted line.
“Are you there, or have I already lost you to the Deep South?” Macy asked. I could almost see her raising a dark brow at me.
“You really are dead set on breaking my fragile heart, aren’t you?” she continued. “You left me here to fend for myself. Not a soul to go out with on Friday nights and no one to make me miracle hangover breakfasts on Saturday mornings. That’s a travesty. Don’t you dare shred it more by pretending I don’t even exist. BFFs, remember? Don’t forget it, or I’ll show up with the sole purpose of kicking your skinny ass. Oh, and to get back those black jeans I know you stole. I’ve been looking for them for the last two days. I bet you have them hidden at the bottom of one of those boxes.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I barely managed to tease through the thickness that lined my throat. “Where those jeans probably are is under your bed in that disaster of a room. You’re worse than a twelve-year-old boy.”
I was doing my best to inject a smile into my voice, but there was no disguising the hitch in my words as I rounded the bend and the town came into view in the valley below.
Gingham Lakes.
God, it was beautiful.
The valley was a vast expanse of green. Flush with abundant, flourishing trees. The massive lake tucked at the base of the opposite mountain range appeared little more than a glittering mirage in the far distance, the river so serene and calm where it ran through the middle of the city and segmented it into the two mirrored-halves.
This place was filled with the best and the worst of memories.
With the best of people and the worst of enemies.
There was only one person who ever could have persuaded me to return.
Leave it to Gramma to do it in the sneakiest of ways.
“Tell me you aren’t having second thoughts now that you’ve driven all the way across the country? By yourself, mind you, since you refused to let me come. You act as if I’d be a nuisance instead of a help. I can lift like . . . a thousand pounds. Pretty sure I’m the best mover in all the history of movers.”
“Says the girl who thought it was a good idea to let a box filled with glasses tumble down a flight of stairs rather than carrying it down.”
Macy chuckled. “Don’t be jealous. Just add creative to my list of skills.”
“Creator of disasters, you mean.”
She feigned a gasp. “I take full offense to that. I even made pizza and didn’t catch the apartment on fire.”
“No,” I ribbed.
“Truth.”
Quiet laughter rolled free as that heaviness throbbed. “I’m going to miss you, Mace.”
Right then, San Francisco felt a million miles away. An alternate galaxy. Really, it was just a different reality than the one I was headed toward.
Somber silence filled the space, and Macy lowered her voice. “Are you sure this is really what you want? You left the city you love and an incredible apartment downtown. You resigned from a job any one of us would kill to have. Hell, you were halfway up the corporate ladder. Worst, you left me.”
My heart clutched while I fought with the urge to turn around and head back to San Francisco. I wasn’t that broken girl who’d run from Gingham Lakes eleven years ago. I was strong, and I sure as hell wasn’t a quitter. “You know why I have to do this.”
“I do, and I know how hard it has to be for you.”
Grief pressed at my spirit. The perfect complement to the determination that lined me like steel. “It is, but I need to do this for her almost as much as I need to do it for myself.”
“This city won’t be the same without you, Ryn.” In all the years I’d lived with Macy, I’d only seen her cry once. I knew she was trying to hold it back. Still, the soft sounds seeped through the line, touching me from across the miles.
I pressed a hand over my mouth and tried to keep the jumble of emotions that quivered and shook inside me at bay. “You’ll come visit.”
She released a soggy laugh. “Hell no. There are, like, alligators down there. One look at all my lush, curvy deliciousness, and they’ll be inviting their friends over for a feast.”
I wanted to tell her I was plenty lush when I’d run from this place. The alligators were the least of her worries. I bit it back, keeping all those old insecurities buried where they belonged.
“You don’t think I’m worth the risk?” I asked instead.
She sniffled, and I swore I could see her grin. “Yeah, Ryn, you’re totally worth it.”
I cleared the emotion from my throat, wondering how I was going to do this when the road took another sharp curve and the speed limit dropped. “I better go. I’m getting into town.”
“Good luck, babe. You’ve got this. I want you to know I’m proud of you, even though I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
“Thank you, Mace,” I told her.
I was definitely going to need it.
Two
Rex
My eyes went round, and I came to an abrupt stop in her doorway.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to wear?” Sweeping a hand through the long pieces of my damp hair, I gave it my all to keep the panic out of my voice.
Honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to bust out laughing or drop to my knees and cry.
Such was my life.
We were already ten minutes late, and there she was on her bedroom floor, wearing a hot pink tutu over a bathing suit.
“Uh-huh. We gots to look so pretty for dance. Annie said all the best dancers wear leg warmies, and her mama bought her all the pretty colors. Like a rainbow,” she rambled as she tugged on the black high-top Converse she’d talked me into at the mall last weekend.
Right over a pair of old tube socks she must have found in one of my drawers.
The hideous kind with the two blue stripes at the top that should have been burned years ago.
“So I gots these.” She rocked her heels on the ground as she sat back and admired her handiwork.
She suddenly looked over at me with that smile that melted a crater right through the stone that was my heart. Her single tooth missing on the bottom row and her attempt at a bun that looked like she’d just walked out of a windstorm were about the damned cutest things I’d ever seen.
“I’m the best dancer, right, Daddy?”
“You’re the best, prettiest dancer in the whole world, Sweet Pea Frankie Leigh.”
I just was betting that uptight bitch, Ms. Jezlyn, wouldn’t agree. I’d already gotten one bullshit letter about “appropriate ballet attire,” which was strictly a black leotard with salmon tights (what the fuck?) without any runs in them. Apparently, Frankie wasn’t living up to those standards.
That was what I got for picking Frankie up late from Mom’s and then coming home and telling her to get ready while I grabbed a quick shower. I’d been at the work site the entire day, had been drenched in sweat and grease and grime, and was trying to put my best foot forward.
Problem was, I was having a hard time figuring out how my best could ever be enough.
I pressed my palms together in some kind of twisted prayer. Then I dropped them and blew out a resigned breath. “All right, then. We need to get out of here before I get you in any more trouble.”
Frankie hopped onto her feet and threw her hands in the air. “Ready!”
I chuckled beneath my breath, grabbed her dance bag from the pink bench right inside her room, slung it over my shoulder, and extended my hand. “Let’s go, Tiny Dancer.”
Giggling, she pranced over to me and let me take her miniature hand, so small and vulnerable in the massiveness of mine.
Following me out the door and down the hall, she skipped along at my side.
Innocently.
Joy lit up my insides. I swore all her sweetness held the power to blow back the thousand pounds of blackened bitterness built up around my heart. Like when this kid was around, it weighed nothing at all.
The day she was born, I’d sworn an oath to myself. I’d never allow her to be torn up by this vicious, cruel world. Refused to let it tarnish her the way it had me.
My entire life was protecting her from it.
I snagged my keys from the entryway table when I heard the sound of a door slamming somewhere outside. Frowning, I leaned back so I could get a glimpse out the window and across the street.
An older white Jeep Grand Cherokee was parked in the driveway of Mrs. Dayne’s old house.
Guessed they had to finally be putting the place up for sale. Mrs. Dayne had lived there forever, long before we’d moved in across the street from her five years ago, but the place had been sitting empty for the last two months.
A fist tightened in my gut, grief I really shouldn’t be allowing myself to feel. She’d just been so good to Frankie that it’d been impossible to keep her shut out. Hell, she’d barged right into our lives like she was supposed to be there, constantly bringing over dinner and those delicious pies from the diner-style restaurant she’d owned downtown.
Frankie rushed out the front door and onto the deck at the side of our house.
It was the way all the homes were situated in our neighborhood. The houses were elevated from the ground with the main doors located on the side rather than out front. Each had an open deck that extended out from the side of the house, giving a view of the street and neighbors’ houses. The porch steps angled that direction and led down to the driveways that came up to the far side of the houses.
It probably would have looked strange if not for the big, leafy trees that outlined each of the lots.
They made everything feel cozy and secluded.
Just the way I liked it.
It was one of the main reasons I’d insisted on this place when I’d been looking for a fixer-upper to renovate.
Frankie released my hand and pointed across the street. “Hey, Daddy, look it. Someone’s at Mrs. Dayne’s house!”
Stepping out behind her, I closed the door before I attempted to tame a few pieces of hair that’d fallen from her bun and were now flying around her face in the hot breeze. I dropped a kiss to her forehead. “It’s probably a realtor putting it up for sale, Frankie Leigh. Remember how we talked about that?”
With her head tipped back, she peered at me with confused but hopeful brown eyes. “She wents to heaven?”
“Yeah,” I murmured softly.
The screen door at the side of Mrs. Dayne’s house slammed, and I jerked my head up to find a woman crossing the small deck and jogging down the steps back toward the SUV.
Goddamn.
Maybe I was just caught off guard.
But just looking at her knocked the air from my lungs.
Let’s just say I was unprepared for a woman that looked like that. Guess I’d been expecting someone dressed up. Older. And there was this girl, disheveled in a sexy, careless way. A massive mound of hair that was wilder than Frankie’s was piled haphazardly on her head, wavy pieces falling out all around her. She wore a super tight white tank that disappeared beneath high-waisted jeans.
Those jeans should have made her look frumpy and unkempt, but instead, the whole package sent a skitter of lust racing through my veins and prodding at my dick.
She was the kind of woman who could make a grown man stumble on his feet.
Stunning.
Gorgeous.
Too sexy for her own damned good.
Or maybe mine.
I could call it a complication of abstaining for too long, but I was sure no woman had ever incited a reaction like this in me with just a glance.
She raked her arm over her sweat-drenched forehead as she headed straight for the cargo area of the SUV, which was crammed full of moving boxes. I wouldn’t mind all that much if she were hauling stuff out of that house directly across the street, but it sure as shit looked like she was moving her things in.
Tell me this girl is not moving in next door.
I clenched my jaw and grabbed Frankie’s hand, needing to get the hell out of there.
“Come on, Frankie Leigh, we’ve got to get a move on. You’re already late.”
But Frankie was already moving, bouncing down the stairs and along the walkway, waving her free hand in the air. The kid just adding to the stark sunshine that burned bright in the waning day. “Hi, hi, hi! I’m Frankie. Whose are you?” she shouted across the street.
Startled, the women’s gaze darted our direction, and the determination in her step slowed when she caught sight of my daughter.
An amused smile grew on the rosy bud of her mouth when her gaze swept the ridiculous outfit Frankie was wearing. She seemed to hesitate for a second, eyes glancing around her like she was looking for something before she changed direction, heading our way. “Hey there, Frankie, I’m Corinne Dayne, but everyone calls me Rynna.”
Rynna Dayne.
What the ever-lovin’ hell?
Could damn near feel the bewildered excitement roll through my daughter while I stood there cursing the world that just fucking loved to curse me. “Your name’s C’Rinne, too? That’s Mrs. Dayne’s name. She worked at the restaurant called Pepper’s Pies and cooked all the pies, and my daddy ate them all, all, all the way gone. Sometimes we wents to go eat there, but mostly we ate at my house right here, but now she wents to heaven.”
A bolt of sadness streaked through her expression, and fuck, if it didn’t hit me, too. Still, the smile she wore only grew. “She made the best pies in the whole world, didn’t she?”
Frankie’s excitement only amplified. “Yes! You know Mrs. Dayne, too?”
She started to cross the narrow street, all chestnut hair and java eyes and a body that was built for temptation.
Awareness ridged my spine like a steely stake of lightning, and I stepped back, my jaw tightening at the same time I protectively took hold of my daughter’s hand.
That was all that women were.
Temptation.
Trouble.
Forbidden fucking fruit.
Because all they did was condemn you in the end. So, I stayed away. Kept my distance. If I didn’t step into the fire, then I wouldn’t get burned.
Kneeling in front of my daughter, she stuck out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Frankie. It sounds like you were a good friend of my grandma’s.”
So yeah.
I’d already figured it out.
It didn’t stop me from flinching.
Frankie had stars in her eyes as she enthusiastically shook her hand. She might as well have been meeting Taylor Swift. “She told me I was her favorite, favorite friend, and sometimes she even let me go to her house and make some pies.”
“Is that so?” Rynna said with a tease in her voice.
“Yep.”
Rynna leaned in, and I caught a whiff of something sweet. “Want to know a secret?” she whispered.
Frankie bounced on her toes. “Oh, yes, yes please, I love secrets. I won’t tell nobody.”
Soft laughter floated out from Rynna’s mouth, a mouth that was getting harder and harder not to stare at, all plush and pink and perfectly pouty. “Well, this is a secret I hope you tell everyone, because guess what? I have some of the recipes for those pies.”
Frankie’s mouth dropped open, and damn it if my stomach didn’t fucking growl.
“You gonna make me some?” she gushed.
“Definitely,” Rynna said, taking that moment to look at me with the threat of a smile on her pretty face, the angle of her jaw sharp while everything else about her was soft.
That sweet scent was back. Billowing in the breeze. This warmth surrounding her. Hot cherry pie.
My teeth ground together, and the smile slid from her face when she saw what must have been my irritated expression, and I swore I heard the slight catch of her breath when she met my glare. Could see a slight quiver in her throat when she straightened and took a step back.
Still, she stood her ground.
There was something unwavering about her. Like she had something to prove. To herself or me, I wasn’t sure.
“Hi. I’m Rynna Dayne. Was named after my grandmother,” she managed, though the words were rough as she stuck her hand out toward me like she’d done to my daughter.
I just stood there staring at it like it held the venom of a viper bite. Finally, I lifted my chin at her and gathered all the pleasantness I could summon. It wasn’t much. “Rex Gunner. I’m sorry about your grandmother. And we’re late . . . so if you could excuse us.”
I gave Frankie a gentle tug of her hand. “Come on, Frankie Leigh. We’ve got to get you to dance.”
Frankie trotted along at my side, looking back over her shoulder with what I knew had to be one of those adorable grins.
“What a jerk,” I heard Rynna mumble behind my back when I turned and led my daughter to the passenger side of my truck.
Bitterness burned.
Yeah.
I was a jerk.
An asshole.
Whatever.
Better to burn bridges before anyone had a chance to cross them.
Shaking it off, I hoisted Frankie into the high cabin, making her squeal and pretend like she was flying. I strapped her in her car seat and jogged around to the front. I hopped into the driver’s seat, wondering if it were possible for the roar of the engine to cover the hurt that sagged Rynna’s shoulders as I took to the street.
Wondering why I felt like a complete piece of shit when I caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror. She just stood there in the twilight like she was caught in a dream.
Watching us go with disappointment on her face.
Befriending a sweet old lady was one thing.
Allowing a girl like Rynna Dayne into our lives—a girl that made my body react the way it did? Now that was pure stupidity.
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