Aisle Come Back to You (Evergreen Grove #1)

1. Blair

1

Blair

W hen I asked my older brother to pick me up from the airport, this was not what I had in mind. Instead of welcoming me home in style like I’d jokingly suggested, with him in a suit and tie and a small sign with my name on it, I’m met with a large poster board that reads, ‘ Welcome home from prison, Blair!’

I should roll my eyes, but instead I lift my hand to stifle the laughter. This is so out of character for Miles, and not something I’d usually expect from him. He’s always been my lovable yet grumpy older brother, which is precisely why I can’t hate it or be mad. If anything, I’m impressed.

Scurrying past security, I practically leap into his arms and pull him into a warm bear hug. “Don’t you worry. I’m a changed woman, Miles. I’m never going back there again,” I loudly proclaim as a few nearby lurkers uncomfortably glance our way.

“Well, uh, make sure you don’t.” He tries to play along, running a nervous hand through his tousled blond locks. As he pulls away from my grasp, he seems to make a conscious effort to let the sign drop to his side, its message concealed against his body.

“So, did that one backfire on you or what?” I tease, adjusting my camera bag as he places a friendly arm around my shoulder and guides me toward the baggage claim.

“Honestly?” he asks, before letting out a loud sigh. “Yeah. I was getting the weirdest looks as I stood there waiting for you. Pretty sure that was the longest twenty-minute wait of my life.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Well, that’s what you get for trying to make a joke. Did all these years apart make you forget that I’m the funny one in the Bennett family?”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to wait so long between visits, I wouldn’t have to forget,” he playfully chastises, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey now,” I say, giving him a light shove as we walk, his arm falling from around me. “Planes fly both ways. You’re more than welcome to come and visit me, too, you know?”

“Not all of us are as lucky as you and can fly home at the drop of a hat. And even when you have breaks in your schedule, you hardly ever make the trip. I can barely even remember the last time I saw you.”

He’s not wrong. Being a concert photographer for some of the biggest bands in the world gives me the freedom and flexibility to travel, allowing me the opportunity to occasionally fly home or the ability to explore new destinations—I always choose the latter. Returning home has never been something I particularly look forward to, which means vacationing elsewhere will always be my number one choice.

When it came to being an older brother, Miles was truly one of a kind and everything I needed and more, but our childhood was anything but idyllic. We were primarily raised by our eccentric grandmother after our mom not only ran out on our drunken father, but on us as well. Our father’s drinking habits only intensified, making it almost impossible to have any real sentimental feelings toward my childhood or hometown. If it wasn’t for Miles and my two childhood best friends, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through.

“I’ve been busy.” I shrug, not really in the mood to explain myself. Plus, it’s complicated.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a roll of his eyes, clearly not buying what I’m selling.

“I’m home now. That has to count for something, right?” I frown up at him, giving my signature puppy dog eyes, putting my big baby blues to work. If you’ve got ’em, flaunt ’em, and you best believe I know how to put ’em to use.

“I would hope so. I’m pretty sure Veronica would kick your ass if you didn’t come home for her big day.”

I let out a much-needed laugh. “No kidding. It’s not every day your best friend gets married.”

“Now that I think about it, wasn’t it Ford’s wedding that brought you home the last time?” he asks, his chin lifting in thought as we continue down the long hallway, maneuvering through the small crowd of travelers.

I attempt to hide my body’s physical response to hearing my other best friend’s name. Or who knows, at this point? I’m not sure if you could still consider us friends.

Miles isn’t wrong about my last visit home. What he may not realize is that after I discreetly slipped away during the reception to deal with my emotions with a mixture of tears and alcohol, I haven’t exchanged a single word with Ford since. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true, since he has reached out with the occasional text message, but that was the last time I personally chose to communicate with him.

Instead of delving into the truth, I offer a curt nod. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s way too long for you not to come home and visit,” he scoffs, once again using his free hand to pull me into his side for a quick hug.

“What can I say? I’ve been busy,” I lie, twisting out of his grasp as we reach the baggage claim area. Unfortunately, my suitcase is nowhere to be found on the carousel, which currently sits motionless and devoid of all other luggage and bags.

“Let me guess, you’ve been too busy with Max Storm?” he asks, raising a judgmental brow while looking anything but amused.

I fold my arms, refusing to look his way. “I’ll have you know, we’re on a break.”

“Oh, so that’s why he’s not here?”

“Can we please not talk about Max? I’m not in the mood,” I huff and pout simultaneously. Since the start, my brother has made it clear he disapproves of my on-and-off relationship with Max.

My hunch is that Miles has always resented my ex for taking me away. After all, he was the one who offered me my ticket out when he suggested I tour with him and his band ten years ago. Obviously, I said yes and haven’t looked back since.

“Oh, touchy subject, huh? What did he do this time?” He bristles, clearly not getting the hint. Then again, I guess this is the downside to having an older brother. Or maybe it’s the downside to having Miles as an older brother, since he’s always been relentless and nosey.

“Who says it was him? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong this time?” I challenge, tilting my head.

“The fact that you even have to say the phrase ‘this time’ just goes to show how toxic he is. However, if I’m going to play along, I’ll go with the usual: ‘because it’s always him.’ He’s an asshole, Blair. Always has been, always will be. Don’t let him make you question that, because I’m sure as hell not.”

“Alright, alright.” I give up, throwing my hands in the air. “It was him, and I’m done—or at least I want to be, but you know how it is—it’s complicated. We work together. It’s not the band’s fault that me and their drummer can’t seem to get our shit together.”

“It’s not like you aren’t in demand, Blair. Everyone loves your work. You don’t have to work for Heartstrings Riot when one of their members treats you like complete shit. They can find a new photographer, and maybe they deserve to have to work with someone less talented for putting up with one of their members’ bullshit when all he has to do is keep it in his pants.”

“Miles!” I squeal, my eyes going wide as I reach out and smack his arm. “I’ll have you know, he didn’t cheat this time.” I understand it’s a bit pathetic that I have to emphasize he didn’t cheat this time , but it’s the honest truth.

He holds up his hands in defense. “Oh, okay. My bad. Since he didn’t cheat this time , then I have to like him and let all the other shit he’s put you through go,” he grumbles, his tone a bit too sarcastic for my liking.

Luckily, I’m given a distraction as my phone pings in my pocket. Even though I’m still irritated, a smile spreads across my face. “It’s Ronnie,” I announce. I’ll always be happy to receive a text from my best friend, but the timing from the bride-to-be is beyond impeccable. “She wants to know if you can drop me off at SalsaLeedo Sal’s for Margarita Monday.”

I don’t even wait for his response as I immediately text her back that it’s a date. Not only will he not say no, he knows he has no choice in the matter.

“So you’re already going to ditch me on your first night back?” he asks. While I do sense a tinge of annoyance and perhaps a hint of jealousy in his voice, I know he understands. Ronnie’s wedding is less than two weeks away, and why I’ve come home in the first place. I may not be thrilled to be back in town, but for Ronnie, I’d do just about anything. Hell, if the girl asked me to bury a body, I’d do it in a heartbeat. There’d probably be a lot of questions and judgment, but I’d still do it.

“You can always join us,” I point out, looking up from my phone, even though I already know the answer.

“A night out with Veronica Prescott? No thanks,” he answers, proving my initial instincts right. We may spend the majority of our time countries apart, but I still know my brother. I can still read him like a book, despite the passage of time and distance. “I’d rather follow a scary-ass clown into a storm drain.”

“Oh, come on. She’s not that bad. I don’t get what you have against her.”

“Well, first off…” he starts, but I interrupt.

“Hey now,” I caution, my voice laced with warning as I lift a threatening finger in his direction. “She’s my best friend and I will not accept any best friend slander from you, mister.”

“Well, you see,” he starts up again, his voice competing with the sound of the carousel as it begins to operate and spin, but that doesn’t seem to deter him. “That’s part of the problem. That girl can do no wrong in your eyes, but she’s trouble, and has been since you were kids.”

“She is not,” I scoff, taking my eyes off the carousel as I roll them in his direction.

“You can’t tell me that whenever the three of you got into trouble growing up, she wasn’t the mastermind behind each and every dumb and dumber idea the three of you took part in.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I say, attempting to downplay our juvenile antics, but deep down, even I can’t deny he’s right. Whenever the three of us got caught doing something dumb or ridiculous, it was always Ronnie’s idea. Sure, I was right there to egg it all on, but she was most certainly the mastermind working behind the scenes.

“Am I exaggerating about the time you guys broke onto Mr. Holstead’s property, stole his tractor, and rode it down the middle of Main Street? Or how about the time you thought it would be a smart idea to…” he continues, but I lift a hand to interrupt.

I don’t need any reminders. Every one of those memories is etched vividly in my mind, and I have to say, the majority of them hold a fond place in my heart. While much of my childhood was marred by negative memories, the ones I created alongside Ronnie and Ford will forever be my favorites.

“Okay, fine. We did some stupid stuff, but it’s not like we ever went to jail or did anything too crazy. They were all silly and harmless pranks.”

“You do realize that the only reason nobody ever pressed charges or why the three of you got out of trouble each and every time was because Veronica’s dad was the mayor and Ford’s dad was the sheriff? If anything, it always made the two of us look worse, since most people assumed you were the bad influence.”

I hate that he’s right, when your dad is the town drunk and you do something stupid, you’re only playing right into their built-in negative stereotypes.

“Miles,” I say, placing my hand on his arm. I know he’s sensitive about this stuff, and it’s probably been a lot harder for him since, unlike me, he’s never had the luxury of escaping the relentless gossip of Evergreen Grove. “I’m sorry if I made it harder for you growing up, but that was a long time ago. We’ve all matured since then. We aren’t the reckless kids we used to be. Hell, Ronnie is a high school teacher, for goodness’ sake, and is marrying the town councilman. If that doesn’t scream grown-up, then I don’t know what does.”

“Maybe she’s older and has somehow managed to get a big-girl job, but considering her first order of business when you come back into town is to get you drunk on margaritas, I’m not exactly inspired to see her in a new light.”

I understand that he’s only saying this out of protectiveness, as our father’s history with alcohol has always made him extra cautious. However, this isn’t something I want or need him to worry about. He’s already spent way too many years playing the responsible adult in our lives. Now that I’m a grown woman, it’s no longer required, nor is it wanted.

“I travel with some of the biggest rock bands in the world. Believe me, I’ve been around much crazier drinkers than Ronnie. If anything, we’ll only have a drink or two. Don’t worry, we have no intention of losing control or causing any trouble tonight. We just want to hang out and catch up. That’s it.”

He doesn’t look all that convinced, but luckily, he also doesn’t look like he’s going to fight me on the matter. “Just be smart, Blair. If you need me to pick you up afterward, you know I’m always just a quick phone call away.”

“Believe me,” I assure him, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, “I know I can always count on you.” Yes, he can be a protective pain in the ass?, but he’s my pain in the ass and I can’t imagine life without him, nor would I want to. “Oh, look,” I continue as I tug on his arm and do my best to steer his gaze in the right direction. “There’s my bag.” I point out with my other hand, thankful for the distraction as he moves to grab it, effortlessly pulling it off the belt.

“Well, I guess it’s time to get you to Sal’s,” he says, his tone lacking enthusiasm, but at least he’s no longer opposing the idea.

“To Sal’s!” I cheer, lifting my hand as I gesture toward the parking garage. As good as it’s been to see my older brother, Ronnie is the reason I’m here, and I’m dying to be back with the one person in this world who knows me better than anyone else.