Page 1 of Healing Hearts
Chapter One
Trent
My phone is face up on the table when it vibrates with a message.My Emilyis on my screen as the sender, and I’m sure Carrie, my date, has seen it when her eyebrows go up. She gives me a furtive glance, probably because she knows I don’t have any sisters. We did the idle chitchat while we ordered and waited for our food to arrive. She knew who Grady, my brother, was when she asked me out.
Honestly, having a super famous brother hasn’t been so bad for getting dates. Fame adjacent appeals to a surprising number of women.
We’ve been having an okay enough time, but I’m pretty sure no matter what Emily has said, this date is going to end early.
“Who’s that?” Carrie asks, clearly trying to read whatever Emily has written.
I put down my fork and pick up my phone without letting my internal sigh out.My Emilyhas been saved as her contact for a while. We were all drinking and hanging out when my drunken self inputted it as a joke, along withMy Lila, which turned out to be less of a joke when Lila took it a little too literally.
Thankfully, Emily has not.
“I hate to do this,” I hedge as I read Emily’s, clearly, drunken text message that is a mash-up of gobbledygook. She either needs to learn how to use voice-to-text better, or she really does need glasses, like I suggested last time she sent me something that almost required me to download a translation app. She claimed her incoherence was because she was speaking instead of typing—basically blaming her tech. Even I know you gotta proofread that shit before you hit send.
I check Emily’s location on my phone and pull out my wallet to put some bills on the table. “I’ve got a friend in need.”
“Is ‘friend’ code for girlfriend? Are you one of those guys?” Carrie glares at me, already deciding I’m guilty.
“Nah,” I say. “Em’s my buddy, but I do admit I have a soft spot for damsels in distress.” I don’t suggest we can redo our date again sometime. If a first date leads to accusatory and possessive behavior, that doesn’t bode well for the casual relationships I enjoy most.
After my brother, Grady, met the last woman I went out with a handful of times, he told me that for a guy who claimed to dislike drama, I certainly liked fucking it. His comment gives me a brief moment of pause now every time I find a woman attractive or get hit on by someone. Given my history, marriage and kids isn’t exactly the goal, so high-drama women in short stints is entertaining, at least. But even I know those relationships aren’t sustainable long-term. That’s kinda the point.
“Guys like you don’t put ‘my’ anyone in their phone if they don’t mean it,” she says, rising from her seat in a huff. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You’re clearly lying.”
“You can finish your meal,” I say, gesturing to her half-eaten fish-and-chips dinner. There's no point in trying to convince her that a tattooed ex-con like me is exactly the kind of guy who’d put “my” in front of a good friend. I did it as a joke after Emilyand Lila said I was the softest tough guy they’d ever met, but I kept it because the label is true. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the Sullivan women, which included Lila until it couldn’t anymore.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you? I’m not going to sit here and eat alone.” She hitches her purse on top of her shoulder and storms out, her strong, syrupy perfume or body spray following behind her. “Worst date ever,” I hear her grumble before throwing open the door to leave.
I double check the amount I put on the table, and then I toss a few more bills, just to be sure. I can hit a drive through after I pick up Em from...I scan her location.The Flirty Englishman…again. I know the guy and his wife who recently took over ownership of the bar—Kai and Makenna—so at least I can say a quick hello to them while I scoop up Em.
When I step outside, a blast of late-October wind hits me in the chest, and I hunch my shoulders, zipping my bomber jacket.
Once I’m in my truck, it doesn’t take me long to get toThe Flirty Englishman. It’s my favorite pub and the one I introduced Em and Lila to more than a year ago when we were planning the Small-Town Saviors show, which was a benefit for my hometown of Little Falls.
At the long bar, Kai is chatting to a regular, and his wife, Mckenna, is probably supposed to be waiting tables. Instead, I can see her at Emily’s table, an uncertain smile on her face. When Em gets drunk, her topics of conversation are unpredictable.
I saunter over, taking my time. Em looks fucking gorgeous with her hair in waves past her shoulders, makeup mostly still intact. She used to have the best shade of strawberry blonde before she started messing with it by adding so many highlights that’s it’s basically blonde. Her expression is soft with whateverstory she’s telling. Probably about Omar or her dad. Those always come out after a few drinks—her grief unmasked.
I slide into the seat across from Emily, and when she turns a glassy-eyed stare toward me, I grin.
“Hello, My Emily. You texted me a bunch of garbage, and I came to make sure you hadn’t been kidnapped by aliens.”
An answering smile spreads across Emily’s face, her light brown eyes bright with a hint of mischief. “The text asked you to come get me, so I guess you must read alien.”
“Seems like,” I agree. “Definitely wasn’t English.” Turning to Mckenna, I ask, “Is the kitchen still open? I haven’t really eaten yet.”
“You haven’t eaten?” Emily squints at her watch and then tries to get it into focus by moving it closer and further from her face. Her nose is adorably scrunched up in confusion. “Why not?”
“Well, I was eating fish and chips down the road, but then I got a distress signal and dropped everything to make sure you weren’t being beamed up or the aliens weren’t being abducted byyou. Which, let’s face it, is probably just as likely. You and your sister, Maggie, would love to do alien experiments.”
“Oh my god,” Emily wails. “I ruined your date. How could I forget you had a date?”
“If you’d been about twenty minutes earlier for this date,” Mckenna says to me, “you could have ruinedherdate too. He was pretty awful, though. I think I would have had to get drunk too.”
McKenna is not much of a drinker, despite being an owner of this pub, so that’s saying something.
