Play For Keeps: A Small Town Single Mom Romance (Haven Harbor Book 2)

Chapter 1

Everly

I’m kicking myself for taking this shift tonight. We’re short-staffed, and the restaurant has been slammed since I started at 5 p.m. Between dealing with customers who have had way too much to drink and trying to keep a very demanding corporate group happy, I haven’t had a second to breathe.

Only two more hours, I tell myself as I weave through the tables to deliver a gin and tonic. Click, click. I cringe at the distinct sound of someone snapping to get my attention. Don’t people know that is the cardinal sin of eating at a restaurant? Turning to see who is beckoning me, I trip over a toddler who has suddenly appeared at my feet and spill the drink down the front of my shirt.

Thisis why I never work Saturday nights. But when Faith, a co-worker at Catch 21, called and practically begged me to cover her shift so she could go to a concert with a guy she just started seeing, I couldn’t say no.

Hurrying to the back room to change out of my wet shirt, I pass Violet, who is on her way back to the dining room with a tray of appies balanced on her hand.

“Wild out there tonight, huh?” she says, stopping to blow a loose strand of bleached blonde hair out of her eyes. Violet is four years younger than me, but when I started at Catch 21 after moving to Reed Point four months ago, the two of us quickly became friends.

“Yeah,” I sigh, motioning to my soaked shirt. “I’m just changing real quick. Can you cover for me?”

“You bet. I’ve got you,” she says as I move quickly down the hall. Once in the back room, I close the door behind me and make a beeline for my locker, where I thankfully keep a clean shirt on hand for situations like this. Peeling the top from my body, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

As I’m tucking the fresh button-down into my skirt, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I dig it out, hoping it’s not a message from my neighbor Franny, who is watching my daughter Birdie for the night.

Birdie and I met Franny the day we moved into our small, two-bedroom apartment. There was a knock at the door, and I opened it to find an older woman with a warm smile and a pouf of violet hair standing there. She held a plate of sprinkled cupcakes and a glittery cat ear headband—the ultimate housewarming gift for a 7-year-old. That was it for Birdie, she loved Franny immediately. I did too. We just seemed to click. Since then, she has become like family. Sometimes I don’t know what I would do without her—like tonight, for instance. When I called at the last minute to ask if she would stay with Birdie, she was at our doorstep five minutes later armed with craft supplies and a board game. It’s definitely not the first time Franny has stepped in to save me. Sometimes I worry that we are taking up too much of her time, but Franny insists that with her own two kids now grown up and out of the house, she loves being able to hang out with Birdie.

Thankfully, the two of them must be just fine tonight, because the text isn’t from Franny, it’s from Willa, my best friend back home. I slam my locker door shut and then swipe to read the message.

Willa: Hey Ev… Can you talk?

Something about it feels ominous, and I get a nervous feeling in my chest. But it will have to wait. I’ve left Violet to cover me for too long as it is, so I type out a short reply telling Willa that I’ll get back to her when my shift ends and then hurry back to the dining room.

When I think about everyone I left behind in Brookmont, Willa is who I miss the most. Four months ago, I packed up Birdie’s and my belongings and loaded them into my car. I tucked my sleepy daughter into the back seat beside the boxes of our things and made the two-hour drive to Reed Point while she slept. Getting to this small town was the easy part. The hard part has been settling into a new home—one that is nearly 5,000 square feet smaller than the gated mansion we left behind. I still feel pangs of guilt about uprooting Birdie from the life she knew, but if I didn’t think it was best for her, I never would have done it. Thankfully she has been quick to make new friends and doesn’t seem to mind our cozy little home. And although some days she complains that she misses her dad, she’s excited to live closer to her grandparents. When my parents suggested I move to Reed Point for a while to be closer to them, I was hesitant at first; I’d need to find somewhere to live because they wouldn’t have room for us in their tiny, old house. Turns out, finding our apartment was a lot easier than I expected and I took that as a sign; it felt like fate. My parents have been worried about me for a long time so they’re over the moon to have me and Birdie close by.

Still trying to push down the anxiety that Willa’s text sparked, I swing open one of the dining room doors—and walk directly into the hard wall of a man’s chest.

“Whoa,” the hard body says, his hands coming to my shoulders to steady me. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I press a hand to my racing heart. “I’m okay, thanks. I’m pretty sure that was my fault. I should have been looking where I was going.”

I look up to see a roughly six-foot frame towering over me. Wow. This guy is ridiculously handsome. He has thick espresso-brown hair that is short on the sides and slightly longer on top, a chiselled jaw and a neatly trimmed beard that is sexy as hell. The mystery man is tall with an athletic build, a broad chest, and muscled arms. I pause when I notice the stormy intensity of his gaze, and the way his green eyes trail down towards my lips. I recognize the appreciation in his eyes, and for a split second, I allow the tiny flutter in my chest. But then I remember that I’ve sworn off men. Forever.

“I guess the same could be said for me. I’m sorry again,” he says in a smooth, low voice, releasing the light grip he has on my shoulders. I blink hard for a second. “Have a good night.” Then he’s walking past me towards the restrooms, leaving me with my pulse still racing and my feet rooted to the floor.

I wince in embarrassment. I’m not usually this much of a disaster, but this clearly isn’t my night. I take a deep breath and head back to my section, trying to ignore the strange flurry of butterflies in my stomach. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like this.

Get back to work, Ev.

Remember why you need this job.

Five minutes later, I’m standing at the bar, waiting on drinks from Owen, one of the two bartenders on shift tonight. Violet sidles up next to me and asks Owen for a Diet Coke refill.

“Did you see table seven, Ev?” Vi asks, nudging me gently with her shoulder. She looks across the crowded dining room and my gaze follows hers, landing on a table where three guys are having dinner and drinks. I shrug, giving her a quizzical look.

“Okay, you obviously have no idea who he is.” She raises a brow at me as she adds a lime wedge to the glass that Owen has deposited on her tray.

“Is there a reason I should know who he is?” I ask, admittedly a little curious.

“He’s practically royalty in this town. His name is Liam Bennett. Big time attorney. His parents own the Seaside Hotel chain. And his brother is Miles Bennett, like the freaking Miles Bennett. The whole family is loaded.”

I obviously know who Miles Bennett is. I see his face plastered across magazine covers every time I go to the grocery store. I’ve even watched a couple of his movies. But as for the rest of the Bennetts—Reed Point royalty or not, I’ve never heard of them.

Violet glances back over her shoulder at their table. “He’s beautiful. I mean look at him. The man could give Liam Hemsworth a run for his money.”

“And he’s wearing a wedding band on his ring finger,” I note, raising an eyebrow in judgment.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look.” Violet shrugs with a grin. “But fine, how about the guy he’s with then? The one on his right. No wedding band there.” She nudges me again.

I humor her, glancing over my shoulder at the profile of a serious-looking guy at the table, my eyes wandering from his dark brown hair to a jawline that could cut glass. I look up again to find a pair of killer green eyes looking straight at me and I realize it’s the guy I just walked into. A wave of embarrassment rushes over me and I snap my head back toward the bar.

Perfect. As if this night wasn’t already a complete disaster, a customer just caught me lusting over him like a total stalker.

“Ooh,” Violet teases as a blush creeps up my cheeks. “You think he’s cute! Come on, admit it.”

“He’s a good-looking guy. So are plenty of guys in Reed Point,” I say, trying to play it cool. “It doesn’t mean I want to sleep with them.”

“A ‘good-looking guy?” Do you need a pair of glasses? He’s gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want one night with a guy that looks like that? He looks all broody and serious too. That’s so hot. I wonder who he is.”

I fight the temptation to look back in his direction. “I have 20/20 vision. And I don’t do hook-ups.”

It’s true. It doesn’t matter how attractive the guy might be, I am not into random one-night stands. Birdie is my number one priority and I’m not looking to make our lives any more complicated. She’s been through enough as it is.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, Ev,” Violet muses. “No strings, no commitments. Not every guy needs to be the one you’re gonna marry. Sometimes you need to get under a man to get over the one you’re trying to forget.”

“Who said I was trying to forget someone?” I haven’t talked about my past to Violet or anyone else in Reed Point. I’m determined to make a fresh start here, and I don’t want any baggage getting in the way of that.

Violet raises her eyebrows at me, looking like she’s not buying it. “Whatever. You’re missing out, girl. Also, I think he likes what he sees. He’s looking at you like he’d like to rail you over a table.”

“Vi!” I hiss. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She picks up her tray and turns back towards the crowded room but then stops and flashes a mischievous smile over her shoulder at me. “I bet that man could fuck you six ways to Sunday if you showed him a little interest, Ev. You deserve a hot night with a good-looking guy. I say go for it.”

I scrunch up my nose in response, but she’s already making her way to a waiting table.

I pick up my own tray and get back to work, deciding to ignore everything Violet just said. Easier said than done. Her advice plays like a loop in my mind for the rest of my shift.

Three long hours later,I’m lying in bed in my pajamas eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The apartment is blissfully quiet, with just the faint sound of rain hitting my bedroom window. Birdie is asleep in her little bedroom and Franny returned to her apartment when I got home a little after 11 p.m.

My feet ache from the shift at the restaurant, and I relax into the pillows behind me, happy the night is over. I grab my phone from the bedside table to send a quick text to Willa. It has been weeks since we last talked. She hasn’t been far from my mind, but I’ve been so busy getting settled into the apartment, starting a new job, and finding a new school for Birdie.

Everly: I miss you. Is everything okay?

I stare at the screen, frowning, worrying about Willa and feeling sad at the distance I’ve put between us. She is the only person I said goodbye to before I left town. She’s the only person who really understands why I had to make this move—how badly I need some space and time to try to forget him and everything he had put me through. Willa saw firsthand everything I lost being married to Birdie’s dad, the way my joy and self-worth and confidence slowly disappeared along the way. This move and everything that led up to it has been difficult, harder than anything I’ve ever gone through, but I know it was a move I had to make.

A text pops up on my screen and I quickly swipe the message to life.

Willa: I miss you too. And I’m fine but I thought you should know I ran into Miranda. She was asking questions, threatening attorneys, waving her millions around like I give a shit.

The mention of my former mother-in-law has my heart racing. Miranda is as close to narcissistic as they come. She thinks she knows everything, and that her money can buy her whatever she wants. She never thought I was good enough for her son, who had a million-dollar trust fund before he even exited her womb. I could never live up to her expectations, and she made that painfully obvious in every one of our conversations. As far as she was concerned, her son could do no wrong. It didn’t matter how much of an egotistical ass he was being, she would back him up.

Grant and I came from two very different backgrounds—my parents were blue-collar; his parents had a billion-dollar iron company. Some wealthy people use their money for good, but Grant’s parents use it as a weapon. Everything they do comes with strings.

Everly: What did she say?

Willa: She wants to know when you’re coming home. She wants to see Birdie.

I roll my eyes. Miranda didn’t have much time for Birdie when we lived 10 minutes away, so I know that her sudden interest in her granddaughter has little to do with Birdie and everything to do with the fact that she no longer has any control over us.

Everly: What did you tell her?

Willa: I told her I didn’t know but I’m positive she didn’t buy it.

Willa has been by my side through it all— the night I met Grant, the day I married him and the afternoon he smashed my world into a million pieces. And even though I know it broke her heart a little when I took Birdie and left town, she supported me. She understood that I needed to go, to escape Grant and try to heal the wounds that I’d been suffering through for years.

Everly: I’m sorry you had to deal with her. I’ll talk to her soon. I just need some room to breathe.

Willa: You never have to apologize. I am happy to tell Miranda where she can shove it. :) I’m always here for you. How’s my Birdie?

I look over at the photo of my sweet girl that sits on my dresser. It was taken on her 6th birthday. She’s wearing a Tinkerbell costume, with a pink plastic tiara perched on top of her mass of blonde curls. The look on her face is pure joy. I smile at the memory and feel a rush of gratitude that despite everything, Birdie is still such a happy, loving kid.

Everly: She’s doing fine. I think she believes the move is temporary.

Willa: Well, is it temporary?

Everly: I’m not sure. I’m really hoping I can stay the year I committed to. I just hope Birdie doesn’t hate me for it.

I swallow hard. Birdie is my world. I have done everything I can think of to make this move as easy as possible for her. I’m making sure she gets lots of time with my parents, because they’re crazy about her and that kind of unconditional love is exactly what she needs. What we both need.

I’ve also tried to make the new apartment feel like home for Birdie. Her bedroom is the first room in the house that I set up. I painted the walls a beautiful, soft pink, hung a canopy over her bed and set up her dollhouse in the corner by the window. All of her favorite things are there—her stuffies are on the bed, her ballerina music box sits on her bedside table, her collection of glass marbles is in a bowl on her dresser. But it just isn’t her home yet. Hopefully in time it will be, but for now I know that she must miss her friends, her old school, and her dad, even if he was rarely ever present.

Willa: She could never hate you. Just focus on getting her settled. What about you? Are you okay?

I pause, mulling over her question for a second. I haven’t had time to even think about how I’m doing. Am I okay? I’m not, but I’d rather be here in this tiny apartment than living in that awful house.

Everly: I’m hanging in there.

Willa: I’m sorry you’re going through this. Grant is an asshole. You’re better off far away from him.

I watch as text bubbles bounce up and down on the screen until a second message from Willa pops up.

Willa: How’s the job? It’s still hard to believe you’re waiting tables.

Everly: It’s not that bad. It’s been a good way to make friends. Although it makes me feel really old. I feel like I could be their mother.

Willa: That’s just because you are one. 34 is not old. It can’t be, because I am also 34 and I KNOW you’re not calling me old.

Everly: You’re the exception, Wills. You’ll still be 25 at heart when they wheel you into the retirement home. But this old lady needs to go to bed now. Love you. I promise I’ll call you soon.

Willa: Love you too. Try not to worry. You got this.

We say goodnight and my heart aches in my chest. God, I miss Willa.

But Birdie and I are going to be okay.