Page 18 of Back in the Country
Dancing with Marlee and kissing her under the stars would forever be burned into my brain. I’d missed out on a lifetime with her already and I refused to waste another minute. She made me feel young and silly as we laughed and joked about everything and nothing. She was my missing piece and a breath of fresh air.
The smile I’d been wearing nonstop since she’d arrived back in Clementine Creek was starting to grate on my brother Hank, but he’d have to learn to deal. We’d been busy all day at the garage, The Rusty Fender, but my mind was consumed with a certain blonde-haired beauty.
“You actually going to work today?” Hank barks and breaks through the pleasant little daydream I’d concocted. He says it at least once every time I am here.
“It’s not like I’ve been standing around doin’ nothin’.”
“Yeah, but you’re driving me fucking nuts with all your sappy bullshit.”
“It’s a smile, Hank.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles.
“Would it kill you to be happy for me for once?” I mean it as a joke, but his jaw clenches—hard.
We stare at each other without speaking for a long moment. Tension and unease settle in the space between us. I don’t like it.
Arguably, riling my brother up is a favorite pastime of mine, but this isn’t the same thing. Before I can press the issue, Hank turns on his heel and stomps toward the office, mumbling something about ungrateful paperwork.
I probably missed a few words in there, but I got the gist. Hopefully the monotony of accounts payable will chill his ass out. No one has ever described him asdelightful,but he isn’t normally a complete dick either.
We are the only two working today, and with him having a pity party for one, that just leaves me in the cavernous space. We’d given the interior a fresh coat of white paint last spring, and the difference has been remarkable. Sunlight streams in from the large windows on the bay doors, the rays catching dust particles floating in the air. The smells of motor oil and rubber are usually familiar and nostalgic, but today they make my skin feel too tight.
While we’d all learned basic—and not so basic—automotive mechanics, Hank is the only one who’d ever shown any real motivation to make a career out of it. The rest of us gladly work on cars to flip or our own restoration projects, but we do it for fun and not for a paycheck.
I don’t hate working here, but it doesn’t fulfill me like working in the barn does. This was always supposed to be temporary. My brothers and I all work with our hands.We create. Hank works on cars, Otto and Case have their landscaping business, and I have woodworking.
Decorative signs had turned into custom orders and everything took off from there. I love nothing more than seeing someone’s excitement over what I’ve made. The dream would be to do it full-time as a real honest-to-God business with cards I could hand out and a website. I only need these last couple of credits until I complete my associate’s degree in business. Taking night classes hasn’t been easy, but I make it work.
I have to.
I’d gotten a job here and I’d never left. At first it was just temporary, then it was because I wanted to keep an eye on Hank when he got out of prison. Now though, all the reasons just seem like excuses. I’ve never tried to bemore—hell, I’ve never really even gone anywhere. Clementine Creek is my home, and I’ve been content with that. My family is here; my life is here.
But does that matter if Marlee isn’t here? We haven’t talked about it, but her life is still in Nashville, and dammit all to hell, I want to be a part of her world.
The soft hum of the air conditioner isn’t enough to drown out the thoughts racing through my mind. I’d been happy here once—working at The Rusty Fender—but now my life feels stagnant.
It also feels like my life is a freight train hurtling down an unfinished track. I have so many balls in the air that I am both overwhelmed and desperate for a change. It’s a hell of a place to be, and I’m counting the days until I can breathe again.
For so long, I’ve just been a single guy living in the town he’d grown up in. I’m not stupid, but I feel inferior in some ways when it comes to Marlee and the life she’s already created for herself.
Having her back in Clementine Creek makes it glaringly obvious what Marlee’s time away has done for her. She is beautiful, confident, and sexy as hell— the kind of woman that commands a room as soon as she walks in. Her world is so much bigger than our small town, and I want to be a part of it. I want to fit in a way I never have before, and I want it to be with her.
Would that be enough?
My mind drifts back to the night of her graduation party and the words that still haunt me all these years later. Sorren had pulled me aside at Marlee’s before she and I had taken that fateful walk and had ultimately severed a piece of my beating heart.
“Way,you’re my best friend and the best man I know, and I want you to keep that in mind with this next part.”
Oh, fuck me runnin’had played on a loop while I waited for what he’d say next.
“I know you have a weird relationship with my sister, and she’s had a crush on you probably since she met you, but I gotta ask you not to encourage that.”He’d eyed me with something like determination and regret.“She doesn’t belong here, man. She deserves every opportunity, and she’s never going to get them here in Clementine Creek.”
What he’d said made sense, but it didn’t mean I liked it. Hell, it was still true.
“If you give her the hope of being with you, she’s never going to leave here.”He eyed me with the no offenselook. “Not that there’s anything wrong with making this home.”
I’d stayed silent.
