Chapter 5
five
WILL
I’m the most embarrassed I’ve ever been in my entire fucking life when I leave Brewed Awakening. It’s a good thing the air outside is cool because as I stomp to my truck and climb into the cab, I’m pretty sure I’m hyperventilating. That woman was beautiful—and I made a goddamn fool of myself.
Breathe in.
Keep it together, Will.
Breathe out.
You’re a grown ass man.
I roll down the windows, letting the morning breeze drift through the cab as I drive. The cobblestones rumble beneath my tires, and I let the rhythm soothe me.
Then I bang the heel of my hand on the steering wheel.
I am an idiot. A goddamn fucking idiot. When I picked up her phone and saw that text about sucking cock and pulling hair, I swear something in me turned feral.
The way her jeans hugged her ass, the way she blushed when she knew that I’d seen, and her hair—god, her gorgeous silky hair.
It was too much. I honestly thought I was going to have to jerk off in the restroom, just to make it out of there intact.
But even more than that, I feel like I violated her. She was clearly mortified—and then my stupid fucking mouth had to come out with that line, about being hot and bothered.
Way to make a woman feel good about herself, Will. You’ve really done your part in demonstrating what not pigs men are. Great—well done!
Fuck.
I’m pulling up to the library when my phone buzzes.
I whip my pickup into a parking spot out front and flick through my phone’s lock screen.
It’s a call from Ethan Wilde, one of the board members on the library project and the single wealthiest guy in Hawthorne Bay. When Ethan Wilde calls, I answer.
“This is Will.”
“Will, hey,” Ethan says. “Are you on the way?”
“Yeah, just pulled up.”
“Great. Listen—before you get in here, I wanted to give you a heads up that we might get a little pushback during the meeting.”
“Pushback?”
Ethan sighs. “Yeah, the assistant librarian has a bee in her bonnet about securing landmark status for the building—which isn’t going to happen—and Eliza Corey from the Historical Society spilled the beans.”
I frown. This is the first I’m hearing of this. “Spilled the beans?”
“Oh, we’d been trying to keep things under wraps,” Ethan says.
“Nancy, the head librarian, knew Lydia Chandler wouldn’t go down without a fight, so we’ve kept things pretty mum regarding the design plans.
And Lydia’s not wrong. It is a gorgeous building.
It’s just that it’ll be even better as an updated facility. It’ll be good for the community.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, I’m sure things will be fine. I just wanted to let you know—in case she decides to show up and raise any issues.
We will be going ahead with the plans we agreed on, so don’t worry about that.
” He pauses a moment. “And you know, Holloway, if all goes well… I’ve got that coastline property I’ve been looking to rehabilitate. ”
I kill the engine and step down from the cab, slamming the truck door shut. “I may have heard something about that.”
Ethan chuckles. “I figured. It’ll be a big project, lots of historic architecture. I think you might be just the man, so long as I like your work on the library. But that’s for another day. I’ll see you in a few.”
“Sure, no problem,” I say. “See you.”
Shoving my phone down the front pocket of my jeans, I stride up the sidewalk toward the towering, historic structure that is the Hawthorne Bay public library.
As I jog up the concrete steps, I glance down at my watch.
I’m officially three minutes late—but hey.
Ethan didn’t seem mad, and Ethan is who I care about.
Ethan Wilde could be what keeps a roof over my head and keeps Zeke’s student loans paid.
His project—this coastline one—could be the thing that pays off Mom’s medical debt, which every month seems to bury me deeper and deeper.
Ethan Wilde and his goddamn gorgeous project could be the thing that sets us up for life, and I will do whatever I have to do to get us there.
I’d rather die than let my siblings down.
My old man already handled that one—hit the ball right out of the park—and I’m sure as shit not going to follow in his footsteps.
So yeah, a beautiful woman who stands too close to me in a coffee shop and has curves like a fucking violin can get me hard, make me act a fool.
But it’s only a distraction. I’ve got to focus on what matters.
I need to screw my head on straight.
I do not need to be screwing anything else.