Page 1 of Best Laid Plans
CHAPTER ONE
ELLE
Elle Pierce’s life had come full circle. In the worst possible way.
She was sitting in the apartment she’d grown up in, where her brother now lived, situated above her family’s restaurant in the quaint and beloved Rock Harbor, Massachusetts.
At least, beloved byotherpeople. Elle had dreamt of moving away for as long as she could remember. And she’d done it. Had achieved everything that she’d set out to accomplish. Until a few short weeks ago, when it had all fallen down around her.
Which was probably why her current predicament stung so much.
Her life in Boston felt like a foggy dream, nothing except an exorbitant monthly student loan payment to show for her last twenty-seven years on this Earth.
So, she’d done what any down-on-her-luck person would do and had come home to lick her wounds. Right now, it felt like she needed a bigger tongue.
Her brother, Wyatt, emerged from his bedroom, shooting her a cautious glance.
“Have your legs atrophied yet?” he asked, pulling at theblanket she’d cocooned herself in on his sofa, annoying in a way that only a brother could be.
She pulled the blanket back toward her, shooting him a daggered look. Her whimper at the sudden exposure to the air conditioning turned into a growl when he continued to pull. He had strength, but she had sheer determination as she wrapped her fingers around the edges and held on. “This is my convalescing blanket, Wyatt. I’m a woman with nothing to lose, so I wouldn’t test me right now.”
Wyatt, broad-shouldered and towering over her, put his hands up in submission and took two steps back. She appreciated the small hint of fear in his dark eyes–a feature they both shared–and the way he sized her up like there was a world in which she could take him.
And given her current state of mind, it was possible that she could dig deep enough into a place where even at six-foot-three, he didn’t stand a chance.
She sighed and shot him another warning glare. Because even if she wasn’t close to a foot shorter than him, she’d gone a little soft in the last two years. Which was a pretty clear consequence of focusing on nothing but completing her MBA and climbing the next rung on the corporate ladder, which was a far less physically taxing endeavor than the phrase wanted you to believe. Between sitting on the T to commute and then sitting at a desk to learn and then sitting at her desk at home to study and then sitting on the sofa to eat dinner, her mind had been running marathons while her body had… not. She’d been a college athlete, and her muscles still twinged with disuse, like they wouldn’t let her forget that sedentary shouldn’t be her natural state.
She gave her brother a surmising glance, noticing then, now that he was no longer antagonizing her, the massive duffel bag taking up a laughable amount of the living room floor. Right,she noted dimly, because he was heading out to coach his high school team’s football camp for the next two weeks.
He looked down at the bag with the Rock Harbor Lobsters logo emblazoned on the side before hefting it up easily and throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m going to put this in my truck.” She didn’t miss the pitying glance he gave her. “I’ll be back.”
And she’d be right where he’d left her. On the sofa, where she’d spent so much time over the last few days that it felt like a second skin.
In a few more minutes, Wyatt would be gone, and Elle would have the much-needed space to wallow in privacy. She felt like that was the least the karmic gods could do for her.
Two weeks in blissful solitude to let herself fall apart and then focus on putting the pieces back together.
One of those prospects was far more appealing than the other right now.
She had to give her brother credit, though. The apartment where they’d grown up, directly on top of the seafood restaurant their parents had owned for the entirety of her life, was now almost unrecognizable as their childhood home.
It was a small three-bedroom, and though Wyatt kept a guest room, he’d turned what used to be Elle’s bedroom–the smallest one–into a home gym-slash-office. He’d painted all the walls soothing tones, something her parents had never had the time to do, and he’d updated the furniture to something from at least this millenia.
When Wyatt had started his professional football career a decade ago, the first thing he’d done was buy their parents a charming rancher about fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. Because of course he had. It was like he’d come out of the womb with the energy of a man born in a pre-feudal society whose singular goal was to provide for his family. And since hedidn’t have one of his own, it was their parents he’d nestled under his overprotective wings.
Elle had flown the coop, and she hadn’t looked back.
She came home for the holidays, and she had a weekly phone call to catch up with her parents. But Wyatt wasenmeshed, especially once his football career had unexpectedly–and brutally–ended and he’d dragged himself back to Rock Harbor to figure out what came next. Now, along with mother henning like it was his job, he was the head coach for the Rock Harbor Lobsters High School football team, a vocation that he took as seriously as if he was still playing pro.
She was grateful for the help her brother gave to their parents, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it was just as much for himself as for them. Maybe she’d ask him about his love life one of these days–see if he’d heard from Hannah. That would really set them down a fun path.
She sighed, regretting being so bitchy, even internally. No oneeverbrought Hannah up, and she wasn’t going to start now.
The front door opening pulled her attention as Wyatt walked through the door. He immediately lasered in on Elle, the last thing on his checklist, probably, before he left. She avoided the concerned look her brother shot her way, even if deep down, she knew that a part of his hovering stemmed from not wanting to deal with his own shit.
But, no. She wouldn’t do that.
Wyatt was being good to her–a great big brother through and through–and she wasn’t going to be dumb enough to bite the hand that was feeding her. And sheltering her. And conveniently, though his trip had already been planned, leaving his home for weeks so that she could convalesce in private.
