Heartbreaker (Havenbrook #3)

Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

MAC

I had no idea how walking away from Hudson could hurt so fucking bad when we hadn’t even been together in the first place. Logically speaking, this time should’ve hurt less than the first time he’d walked away. I’d already been without him for ten years, had learned to live without him here, and I’d been fine.

Okay, so not fine , but passable.

But now that I’d had these past three weeks with him, laughing and joking with me, challenging me, loving me, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go back to how things used to be. I didn’t want to.

Thankfully, I had some time before I’d have to. Before I’d slip back into the status quo, where I simply coasted through my life with no real focus. No real drive. No real…anything.

Now, my focus was, blessedly, on Havenbrook and keeping things afloat while my daddy was in recovery mode, driving my momma absolutely crazy. So that was where I was spending nearly all my waking hours—from sunup to sundown, and a few extra hours on either end. Town hall had become my second home. And the strange part was, I was even starting to…enjoy it?

I wasn’t sure if it was the reprieve it provided from the sad reality that was my life, or if I really, truly liked being involved with the town in this way. I’d never really had a chance to challenge myself in anything but Wilderness Bound the entirety of my adult life, and this was kind of exhilarating.

I’d kept my word to myself and hadn’t rocked the boat—not really. So, I’d done a few little things here and there—like writing up a proposal for a new dog park, or propositioning Atticus and Darcy to sponsor a community garden in the unused space behind their businesses—but I’d left the big things alone.

I hadn’t touched the town infrastructure that was in desperate need of an overhaul, from roads to bridges to public transportation. Hadn’t even whispered about implementing an SAR team because of the large funds those items would take—not to mention the roadblocks I’d run into in the form of the good old boys for daring to bring new ideas to the table.

As many people as were passing on positive reports to my daddy of what I’d been doing at town hall, I knew just as many were doing the opposite and complaining about every step I took. I couldn’t win, but that was one thing I’d taken with me from pre-acting-mayor Mac—I ignored it as best I could and went about my business as if it didn’t bother me at all.

“All right, crazy pants.” Avery blew into my office in a cloud of red hair and irritation, her hands laden with takeout bags. “Since I’m obviously not going to get you out of here at a decent hour, I brought takeout.”

“You didn’t have?—”

“Shut up.” She dropped the bags on top of the paperwork I had been reading over before shrugging out of her coat and tossing it on a side chair. “I’m starving, Will is already gone for the day like a normal human being, and I’m on duty for tonight.”

“What do you mean, you’re on duty? On duty for what?”

“Babysitting,” Avery said distractedly as she dug through the bags. “I swear, if they didn’t give me four fortune cookies like I specifically asked for, I’m gonna?—”

“Who’re you babysittin’?”

Avery glanced up at me with a stare that suggested I couldn’t be that stupid. “Uh, you.”

“ Me ?” I scoffed. “What the hell do I need a babysitter for?”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Answer the question.”

“Lunch.”

“Mhmm…with Will.” Avery grabbed a container of what looked like chicken lo mein, fell into a chair, and dug into the box with a pair of chopsticks. Around a bite, she said, “And before that?”

“Um…last night.”

Avery raised a brow as she chewed, as if she couldn’t even be bothered with a response.

“What? I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

The brow got higher, and this time, Avery’s foot started tapping a beat on the floor.

Okay, so I did usually eat breakfast, but I hadn’t been hungry lately. That wasn’t a crime. I also hadn’t really gone anywhere—like The Willow Tree, or, you know, the grocery store—so my food supply was pitiful.

But, well, I was just so tired after work and wanted to go straight home and face-plant into my bed. And I hadn’t been in the mood to talk, so I didn’t want to chance running into anyone while I was out. Like…Edna. If I happened to avoid an encounter with Hudson while I was at it, well…

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m a child,” I said.

“Your lack of basic adulting says otherwise.”

I rolled my eyes and finally dug into the bag in front of me, the smells too enticing to ignore. Settling on General Tso’s chicken, I grabbed a fork—Avery was a show-off with those damn chopsticks—and settled back into my chair.

She lifted her chin toward the paperwork strewn across my desk. “Whatcha working on?”

“Just gettin’ my ducks in a row before I approach Atticus and Darcy with the proposal.” I’d casually suggested it to them earlier in the week, and they’d both been receptive—the truce between them that I had initiated had paved the way for that nicely—but I still wanted to make sure my i’s were dotted and my t’s were crossed.

“It’s a great idea, Mac. And the funds the produce from the garden will bring in will go a long way in wiping out student lunch debt at the elementary school. People will be flocking to their businesses just to support them.”

“I hope so.”

But I still felt a nagging tug in my belly that this wasn’t what I should be doing—that it wasn’t my job to be pushing for things like this because I was only here temporarily. While, yes, what I was doing was for the good of Havenbrook, others may not see it that way. They may flat out reject it, or report back to my daddy that I was turning the town soft. I could hear the arguments now— Kids can pay for their own lunches, and if they can’t, their parents should just work harder.

But, well, as much as I didn’t want to rock the boat, I also didn’t want to sit by when I had the platform to affect real change in our town. So maybe a tiny little nudge wouldn’t hurt. Not too far…just a little.

“Hey,” Avery said, pointing toward me with her chopsticks. “Open the bottom left drawer.”

I furrowed my brow but did as Avery asked, pulling open the drawer. My God, my daddy’s desk was a complete pigsty. How he managed to make such a mess when he didn’t do any actual work was beyond me.

“You have a need for some used envelopes or extra napkins?” I asked.

“Nope, what I want is all the way at the back. Careful while you dig—never know what you’ll find in Dick’s drawers.”

I screwed up my face in disgust, definitely not interested in blindly sticking my hand in to feel around for God knew what. Instead, I grabbed a pencil from the desk and pushed the items aside with the eraser end, my gaze snapping to Avery’s when I uncovered something interesting.

Dropping the pencil on the desk, I grabbed the bottle of amber liquid and lifted it out by the neck. “Whiskey?”

“Not my favorite, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” Avery plucked two paper cups out of her purse, separated them, and dropped them on the desk. “Fill ’em up.”

“You always have those?” I gestured to the cups.

“Never know when the urge to get tipsy will arise.”

I grinned, pouring a healthy dose into each cup. “Why am I not surprised that my daddy—the man leading the charge against The Willow Tree openin’ in town—has liquor at work?”

“Because he’s predictable. Thou doth protest too much.”

“We drinkin’ to forget something tonight?”

Whiskey wasn’t my favorite either, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Avery picked up her glass, knocking the edge against mine before bringing it to her lips. Over the rim, she met my gaze. “You tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

Avery blew out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes. “Cut the shit, Mac. I’m not Will. I get if you don’t want to talk to her about whatever is going on with you and Hudson—she and Finn are nauseatingly in love—but I’m single as fuck, and I give damn good advice.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but instead found the whole story spilling out. I recounted everything that’d happened between Hudson and I—both in the weeks since he’d been home, and in the years he’d been gone.

Well, almost everything.

I couldn’t quite manage to rehash the cutting words Hudson had said at my place. When he’d told me I wasn’t— Well, it didn’t matter because I wasn’t thinking about that right now. Crying in front of Avery would be highly inconvenient.

With her gaze connected to mine, she demolished the entire container of lo mein while I talked. She interjected her humor every so often, but for the most part, she listened quietly.

Too quietly.

“Are you just gonna stare at me, Ms. Damn Good Advice ?” I finally asked after long moments of silence.

“Just trying to figure out how to approach this.”

“No approachin’ necessary. Just spit it out.”

Avery hummed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, one high-heeled boot swinging. “You know, Will had this same problem. Had to talk her out of being an idiot, too.”

I rolled my eyes, remembering Will mentioning something about that back when Hudson had first arrived in town. “She told me.”

“Looks like it got through,” Avery said dryly.

I exhaled long and low, shaking my head. “Her and Finn’s situation was completely different.”

“Maybe.” Avery shrugged, tossing back the rest of her whiskey. “But the regrets would still be the same. And they’re a real bitch to live with. That something you want for the rest of your life? What-ifs and what-could’ve-beens?”