Waiting for Willa Read online

  “He’s amazing,” she says with a grin. “He has business calls this morning, and I am running some errands for Hannah. I can’t believe the wedding is this Saturday already.”

  “Time flies,” I agree. “Is there anything I can do today? With the holidays over, I haven’t been as slammed in here.”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll keep you posted,” she says with a sigh. “My big brother is getting married.”

  Brad Hull is the oldest sibling and the chief of police in Cunningham Falls. He fell head over heels for Hannah, an OBGYN who moved to town about five years ago. The man adores her, and I can’t wait to see them get married on Saturday. I was honored when Hannah asked me to be one of her bridesmaids, along with Jenna, and Hannah’s cousin, Abby.

  “There are about twenty RSVPs out there in the universe that never made their way back,” Jenna says with a sigh. “Why don’t people just send back the damn card? It even has a stamp on it!”

  “Because they’re mysterious,” I reply with a wink. “And if they’re local, I’d plan on them being there. This wedding is a big deal.”

  “I think I’ll just elope,” she says with a sigh, and I feel my eyes widen in surprise.

  “Really?”

  “Nah, I need a pretty dress, but I’m in no hurry. And it won’t be big like this. Christian doesn’t need the media circus. I think we’ll do something super small out at the property in the park.”

  “That would be amazing,” I reply with a nod. “And I’d better be a part of that something small.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says with a smile. “I guess I should get over to Brooke’s Blooms. I want to see the flowers in person.”

  “Sounds like fun. Say hi to Brooke for me, and call if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  ***

  “Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Brad Hull!”

  The room erupts in applause as Brad and Hannah walk into the reception area of the Lodge on the mountain, hand in hand, huge smiles on their faces.

  So full of hope and excitement.

  I swipe a tear from my cheek and clap my hands, my feet screaming in my four-inch heels.

  “Are you sad?” Alex asks beside me. He’s in a black suit with a blush-colored tie that matches my dress because he’s my date.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m happy.” I lean down to kiss his cheek, and he actually lets me, which doesn’t happen often in public these days. “Sometimes, people cry because they’re happy.”

  “Girls are weird,” he says with a shrug.

  “Girls aren’t the only ones who cry when they’re happy,” I argue with a laugh. “Isn’t Miss Hannah pretty?”

  “I like her dress,” he says. “It’s not too poofy like on that show on TV.”

  “No, it fits her perfectly.”

  Hannah’s red hair is pulled back into a simple twist, showing off the strapless dress, sweetheart neckline, and crystals that wink in the lights. Brad hasn’t taken his hands off her since she walked down the aisle to him.

  “Now it’s time for the bridal party to dance,” Jenna says into the MC’s mic. “Come on, guys!”

  The next thing I know, I’m coupled up with Max, and for the first time in more than a decade, I’m in his arms, dancing to a slow song by the Goo Goo Dolls.

  “Hey,” Max says with a half-smile. His arms are stiff around me, and his jaw is tight as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

  “Hi,” I reply softly.

  I used to love this man when we were so young that I thought we’d be together forever. But that wasn’t to be. We wanted very different things.

  Besides, not many people marry their childhood sweethearts these days.

  Max and I have a long history. Some of it was wonderful, and some were the hardest times of my life.

  But he’s living here now, and I refuse to let things stay awkward between us. We have the same friends, we move in the same circles.

  I need to extend an olive branch.

  “You know, it’s not fair,” I begin.

  “What’s that?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

  “That we’re all aging, but you just get better looking.”

  His jaw stops, clenching as he takes a deep breath and finally smiles down at me with that grin that used to melt me into a puddle at his feet.

  “Is that so?”

  “I’m not telling you anything you don’t know,” I reply with a shrug. “You and Christian were both in that magazine a few months ago.”

  “You read it?” he asks.

  “I’m a woman over the age of sixteen,” I remind him. “Of course, I read it.”

  “Tell me more about how you think I’m better looking.”

  I laugh now, leaning in to rest my forehead on his chest and discreetly clenching my legs so I don’t pee myself.

  Having a baby will do things to your body, like make your bladder weaker than a newborn bunny.

  “You always were humble,” I say when I can breathe again.

  “You started it.”

  “So I did.”

  “How are you, Willa?”

  “I’m great,” I reply honestly. “How are you?”

  “I can’t complain,” he says. He looks like he wants to say more, but suddenly, my son is tapping my arm.

  “Mom, I want to dance, too.”

  “Okay, Bubba. Alex, do you remember Mr. Max?”

  “Hi, Alex,” Max says, smiling down at my son.

  “Hi. Sorry to interrupt, but Mom said she’d dance with me.”

  “She’s all yours,” Max says, passing my hand over to Alex and nodding. “See you around, Wills.”

  Wills.

  Only Max and Cary called me Wills. I haven’t heard that out loud in almost nine years.

  “Mom.”

  I glance down. “Yes, baby?”

  “I have moves.”

  I chuckle and rest my hand on his shoulder, letting him guide me over the floor. “Yes, you do.”

  ***

  “I’m not tired,” Alex says with a yawn. He can’t keep his eyes open as I tug the covers up to his chin.

  “Well, I am,” I reply and kiss his cheek. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “Yeah. I danced with all the girls.”

  “Yes, you did.” I kiss him again. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

  “Like Dad?”

  I sigh, breathing him in. His baby smell is long gone, replaced tonight by the scent of soap from his shower after we got home. He’s soft and cozy, and there are still brief moments like this one when he’s sleepy and tucked into bed, that he’s my baby.

  “Yes, your dad was a charmer.”

  “Tell me,” he says, settling in. This is a story I’ve told him since he was born. I don’t tell it as often now, but sometimes, when he’s not feeling well or has been thinking about his dad, he’ll ask for it.

  And I always comply because I promised Cary that his son would know him.

  “Your dad was born right here in Cunningham Falls, on March sixteenth,” I begin, lying next to him and holding him to me. “And just like you, he was a wonderful boy. I met him in Kindergarten. We had Mrs. Wilhem, in the morning class…”

  Chapter Two

  ~Max~

  “COME ON, MAN. IT’LL be a rush,” Cary says as he adjusts his goggles on his face.

  “It hasn’t been groomed,” I insist, looking down the backside of the mountain. We got a lot of fresh snow last night, and I’m worried. This could be dangerous. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Don’t be a pussy,” he throws back at me, smiles, then pushes off, gaining speed quickly.

  My skis are stuck in the snow. I’m pushing with my poles, and it’s like moving through mucky water. I can’t pick up speed.

  “Come on!” he yells.

  “Stop!” I scream back, but he can’t hear me. And I can’t make my goddamn feet move.

  I’m sweating, breathing hard, and watching the blue ski jacket
make its way farther and farther down the mountain until it just…disappears.

  “No!” Suddenly, I’m propelled down, my feet unstuck, and I’m going too fast. I’m going to whiz right past where I last saw Cary.

  But when I zoom close, I get stuck again and fall down. Cary’s buried in the snow, but his face is showing, staring up at me.

  “Should have stopped me, man,” he says.

  “No.” I try to crawl to him, but I’m stuck in the snow again. “No, no, no, no, no.”

  Right before my eyes, Cary sinks into the tree well, slowly as if he’s in quicksand, and disappears completely.

  I can’t reach him.

  I can’t save him.

  “Fuck!”

  I jolt up in bed, sweating and panting. I’ve kicked the covers to the floor, and I’m wrapped from the waist down in the sheet, making my legs immobile.

  “Fuck,” I say again and rest my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands as I try to catch my breath.

  I haven’t dreamed about that day in a while, but it shouldn’t surprise me that I am now. Seeing Willa at the wedding tonight was bound to bring it up.

  It always does, even when I don’t talk to her.

  In fact, tonight was the first time I’ve spoken to her in nine years.

  I sigh, pushing my hands through my hair, and climb out of bed. I won’t sleep again tonight, so I might as well get some work done.

  I pull on some shorts and walk down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Black.

  Then I wander into my office. Rather than sit down at my desk, I walk to the wall of windows that look out to the lake.

  It’s dark, but the moon is full and bright, glistening off the water. It’s a calm, clear winter night. For the first time that I can remember, the lake hasn’t frozen over all the way, just around the edges.

  Cary and I used to love to cross-country ski across the lake when we were kids. We got a kick out of the fact that we were walking over the fish.

  God, I missed Willa and Cary after I left. More than I missed my family, although I missed them, too.

  But I was determined to make something of myself outside of Montana. I was tired of the small-town existence. I wanted to live in a city, go to college, and experience life.

  I needed it.

  I wanted Willa to go with me, but she didn’t see herself living anywhere but here in Cunningham Falls. So, we broke up, and I went to college.

  But I always intended to come back and talk her into going with me. I was convinced that she’d miss me and give in.

  Yeah, I was a cocky little bastard.

  That cockiness served me well in business.

  Not so much in my love life.

  And just when I was ready to say, “fuck it” and come home to her, I got a call from Cary. He’d asked her to marry him, and she’d said yes.

  My best friend was going to marry my girl.

  I almost felt betrayed, which is fucked up because I’m the one who left Willa behind. I was an asshole to think that she’d pine away for me, waiting until I came to swoop her up and carry her away.

  And, if she was going to marry anyone else, at least it was a guy I loved and respected.

  I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t content.

  But I learned to live with it.

  And just when I got up the fucking nerve to come home and see everyone after being away for far too long, Cary and I went skiing, and he fell into that tree well and died.

  It happened in the blink of an eye, and he was gone.

  Cary was gone, and Willa wanted nothing to do with me.

  So, I left and made something of myself. I dove into work. It consumed me. No amount of success or respect or money mattered to me. It was never enough.

  Until I came home for Christmas about five years ago and realized that this was where I was supposed to be all along.

  I respected Willa’s wishes, though. She told me at the cemetery that day that she wanted nothing to do with me, and I’ve stayed away, even though everything in me yearns for her. I’ve kept my distance.

  Until tonight when I had her in my arms and heard her sweet voice, her laugh. Felt her body pressed against mine. God, she hasn’t changed a bit.

  And her son is the spitting image of his daddy.

  I didn’t want to leave them there on the dance floor, but I did. And I’ll continue to stay away from her. Because what I want from Willa, she’ll never give me.

  I want everything. I want her and her son. I want her laughter, her sighs, and her tears. I want to give her everything I have, and I want to take care of her and Alex.

  And I’m a grade-A asshole for it.

  I shake my head and turn back toward my desk. Taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee, I sit down and start up all four computers. It’s time to bury myself in work.

  ***

  “Jesus, you could kill someone,” Gray King says to Christian. They’re playing darts, and Christian has one hell of an arm.

  “Don’t stand in front of the board,” Christian suggests, making us all laugh.

  “Yellow, corner pocket,” I say to Noah King before I tap the ball and send it into the target.

  The guys are here for some beer and laid-back conversation. The only one missing is Brad, but he’s on his honeymoon in the Caribbean. I invite everyone over about once a month.

  “How’s the bird rescue business?” I ask Noah as I rub blue chalk on the end of my cue.

  “Steady,” he says, studying the balls on the table. “I had a barn owl brought in today. Someone shot it with a .22 and left it for dead.”

  “People are assholes,” Gray says in disgust.

  “I won’t disagree with you,” Noah replies. “How’s the billionaire life?”

  My lips twitch. Gray and Noah have known me since we were kids. We all grew up together. And they never get tired of flipping me shit for being rich.

  “Oh, you know. I bought a new yacht yesterday.”

  “Seriously?” Gray asks. “Because if you did, I’m borrowing it.”

  “No, but I looked at one online. It could be a good investment.”

  “Don’t do it,” Christian says, surprising me. “I have a friend who did, and it was a pain in the ass more than a good time.”

  “Good to know,” I reply, leaning on my cue as Noah takes his turn on the table.

  “If it impresses the ladies, I say do it,” Gray says with a grin.

  “Speaking of ladies to impress,” Noah says, “did you guys see Willa at the wedding the other night?”

  And just like that, every nerve on my body is on high alert.

  I take a pull off my beer, keeping my face neutral, but my hands clench on the pool cue.

  “She’s hot,” Gray agrees with a nod and then throws a dart. “That dress showed off her ass nicely.”

  I want to tear him limb from limb for even having the audacity to look at her ass.

  “I might ask her out,” Noah replies thoughtfully, and I react without thinking.

  “Fuck, no,” I say, my voice a growl.

  “No?” Noah asks, rubbing his chin. “Why’s that?”

  “Just no,” I repeat and toss my empty bottle into the trash, then open the fridge for another.

  “Last I checked, you’re not her daddy, and she’s a grown woman so I can ask her out if I damn well please,” Noah says. Both Gray and Christian have stopped their game and watch us with interest.

  “You know there’s history there,” I reply.

  “Ancient history,” he says. “You dated her in high school, man. So, what? You dated her, so she can’t date anyone else in this town? Is she supposed to die an old maid? You didn’t brand her, Max.”

  “Don’t be an asshole,” I reply calmly but feel anything but calm.

  “I’m a man, and Willa’s an attractive woman. So unless you’re going to ask her out yourself, I don’t think there’s much you can say here.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, pissed as hell, but he’s right.


  I don’t have a claim on Willa.

  And that pisses me off, too.

  “He’s still in love with her,” Gray says quietly.

  “Then maybe he should do something about it,” Noah says, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me defiantly. “Shit, or get off the pot.”

  “I don’t think we should equate Willa to a pot,” Christian says. “It’s just gross.”

  “You know what I mean,” Noah says.

  “You started this on purpose,” I reply and watch as a smile spreads over my friend’s face.

  “We saw you at the wedding,” Gray says. “We saw the way you looked at her when you were dancing with her.”

  “How’s that?” I ask, then hate myself for it because I probably don’t want to know.

  “Like she hung the damn moon,” Christian says, then shrugs when I stare at him. “Jenna’s told me a lot about your past with Willa, and I watch. Jenna said it was a big deal that you danced with her.”

  “He doesn’t usually go near her,” Gray confirms, and I scowl.

  “Are y’all just sitting around, talking about my non-existent love life like a bunch of gossiping women?” I toss my cue on the table and march to the doors that open to the balcony that overlooks the lake. I step out into the snow and take a deep breath of the crisp air.

  “If she’s what you want, you should do something about it,” Noah says from behind me, and I turn to find all three men standing on the balcony with me. “Because if you don’t, someone else will.”

  The pain that the thought of someone else touching Willa brings me is a hell that I wouldn’t wish on an enemy.

  “Maybe I’m not what she needs,” I reply. “She made it clear a long time ago that she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “She was young and hurt,” Gray says. “Hell, we all were. And, yeah, she might tell you to go fuck yourself. But at least you’d have tried.”

  “Why do I feel like this was an intervention?” I ask, propping my hands on my hips.

  “No idea,” Gray says with a smile. “We just came over to drink your beer and beat you at pool.”

  “Maybe the kid is the problem,” Noah says thoughtfully. “Are you hanging back because you don’t want to take on another man’s child?”

  “That’s a shitty thing to say,” I reply. “Alex is a great kid.”