Page 8 of The Last Love Song
“As in, most of them live within shouting distance from me?” She wrangled her windblown hair back under control. “Because I don’t know if I’d call that fortunate, exactly.”
He’d turned off the highway onto the county route that led into Heartache. The car quieted as it slowed, the road deserted. The air had turned cool after midnight.
“So much for ‘Family First.’” He still saw weathered old campaign signs around Heartache sometimes that put the former mayor’s slogan in bright blue letters.
“You must think I’m a total ingrate, taking off right after Erin’s wedding and trash-talking my family like they were a bother instead of the people I love most in the world.” She repositioned herself on the leather seat, crossing her long legs so her knees pointed away from him.
The view was still mighty fine.
“No one knows how to get under your skin like family. I understand that.” But he didn’t. Not really.
His family had been a sorry excuse for a nuclear unit from day one. His father was a criminal. His mother an accessory, if only by a case of big-time denial. Both parents had been more concerned about getting ahead—or not getting caught—than they’d been about their kids. Zach had tried to make up for their inattention to his sister, Gabriella, by being a good brother.
He had failed miserably.
He sucked at being a family to her as much as his parents, too caught up in his dad’s scandal to see the signs of depression in Gabriella, which had surfaced after being stalked online and lured out of the house to meet the guy who’d tried to…
Zach couldn’t think about that, actually. But later, she’d overdosed because of it. Zach had helped her relocate to the West Coast and legally change her name. Thankfully, Ellie wasn’t far from Gabriella.
So his family had been a mess. But he’d always looked to the Finleys as a family who got it right. Their dad ran the small town for years and not because he was a crook. He was a genuinely selfless guy who had good business sense and shared that acumen to help Heartache thrive.
“They mean well,” Heather said carefully. “I’m just ready for a change.”
They passed through the downtown, driving by the pizza shop, the town square and the darkened storefront of Last Chance Vintage.
“I was surprised you sold off your share of the store.” He admired the sisters’ tenacity with the shop, expanding the storefront by remodeling a property next door and connecting them. “It seemed like a good investment.”
“Erin did most of the renovations with her own two hands. She deserved all the profits.” She kept her focus on the road. “Looks like one of the streetlights is out.” She pointed to a post near the pizza joint.
“The mayor’s office is closed. I’m off duty tonight.”
“Me, too. Guess we shouldn’t talk about work then.”
He turned in time to catch her smirk.
“Right. We could always discuss a run to the ER to get your wrist examined.”
“In that case, maybe we should put my work life back on the table for conversation.”
“Luckily, we’re not at a town council meeting and don’t need any complicated agendas.” He rolled his shoulders to ease away some of the tension of talking to her. “No need to be prickly.”
“Excellent. I don’t like agendas. Complicated or otherwise.” She let go of her hair as he turned down the quiet street where she lived.
There were still lights on at the farmhouse, but Heather’s brother Mack’s converted apartment in one of the old barns was dark. Across a meadow, the bride’s house was quiet and so was her brother Scott’s place.
Zach pulled into the parking area behind a converted potting shed that had been their father’s home office at one time. Heather had claimed it for herself after—he’d heard—living with her sister, Erin. Now the shed looked like a Craftsman bungalow, complete with a loft window, cedar-shake siding and glowing cast-iron lamps. Her family’s construction business ensured all the Finley places looked showroom ready, even this home-in-miniature.
“I don’t like agendas, either. Or secrets.” He shut off the engine so he could walk her to the door and bring in her suitcase.
She turned sharply toward him. “Excuse me?”
“I was kept in the dark about a lot of things as a kid.” His dad lived one lie. Then his sister lived a whole different one, pretending everything was okay until it wasn’t. Andshewasn’t. “So I’m a big believer in transparency.”
“Okay…sounds like the opening to your next campaign speech.” Her gaze darted away and she looked nervous. But then, he was probably sounding way too serious.
“What I mean is, I don’t want to keep my goals secret from you. So I want you to know that I plan to lobby for you to stay in town.”
Without the dashboard lights, it was tough to get a read on her expression.
