Page 2 of Homecoming Heartbreaker

He supposed it was inevitable, given how close they were, that his and Molly’s relationship would turn romantic, and those last four months they’d spent together had been the best of his life. They’d laughed, loved and explored their sexuality, convinced that they’d spend the rest of their lives together.

Then the accident ripped apart his family and lost him his oldest friend and his new lover...

After the accident, believing that he wasn’t deserving of his family, of any type of love—Molly’s included—he’d left Asheville and everything he adored behind, cutting all ties with surgical precision. It was his way to punish himself and he’d been stunningly successful in doing just that.

For years he’d been a walking, talking emotional bruise.

Mack scrubbed his face with his hands, reluctantly admitting that, sometime after college, he could’ve approached her, made some effort to be, at the very least, polite. But no, because he was stubborn and stupid and, yeah, scared, he let the years fly by without contact and now he felt as alienated from her as he was from his brothers. If he’d reached out sooner, made the effort to connect earlier, their upcoming meeting would not be a fraction as awkward as it was bound to be.

Moonlight Ridge was Molly’s home, probably more than it was ever his. She’d lived on the property as a child, worked for Jameson in her teens and was his father’s favorite-ever girl, the daughter he’d never had.

And she was now the manager of Moonlight Ridge and, because he was going to assume Jameson’s duties at the resort, he would be working closely with his ex-friend and ex-lover. The woman he’d thought he’d make his wife, the mother of the children he’d once wanted.

Completely fabulous.

Mack slid into his car, punched the start button on his dashboard, but instead of pulling away, he stared at the emblem on the end of his hood, feeling edgy, tense and very unlike the supercool, controlled businessman he normally was. All he wanted to do was to return to Nashville.

Asheville, Moonlight Ridge, Jameson and Molly were all agents of change and he didn’t want variations; he’d designed his life and liked it exactly as it was.

But he owed Jameson. He’d do anything for the man who gave him stability and love, security and a family, when he needed them the most.

But his past and present were about to collide...

More than ever, Mack needed to stay in control.

Molly Haskell stood at the window of her third-floor office, her eyes on the long driveway. She’d had a brief message from Mack, telling her he’d arrive this morning, and she cursed her elevated heart rate and dry mouth.

He’d left fifteen years ago; surely, she should be over him by now. Molly, frowning at the thought, gave herself a mental head slap. She was over him;of courseshe was. She refused to be anythingbutover him.

But Mack’s return to Moonlight Ridge as Jameson’s stand-in was going to complicate her business life—she refused to let him affect her or her emotions!—and put a hitch in her plans to revitalize the resort.

Just before he fell ill, Jameson promised to listen to her proposals to make the resort the premier destination in the South, but before they could meet, he collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, unconscious. His brain episode—another word for his narrowly avoiding an aneurysm—scared her senseless and all she’d been able to focus on was whether he’d recover or not. Now that he was out of danger, she could give her attention to Jameson’s beloved business.

He was her mentor, her second father, the man she adored, loved and trusted and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, including reviving his resort.

But as Moonlight Ridge’s manager, she’d didn’t have the authority, financial or otherwise, to make dramatic and sweeping changes. She’d now have to—ugh—get permission to implement her plans from, according to Forbes, one of the country’s most brilliant young businessmen, Jameson’s oldest son, Mack Holloway.

And Mack, because he was a leader not a follower, a visionary who liked to forge his own path, was bound to poke many holes in her plans.

Molly released a low growl, then a hard sigh. She was already annoyed with him and he hadn’t yet arrived.

No, that wasn’t true; being annoyed with Mack was her default setting. She was simply more annoyed with him than usual.

“I will not let him stand in my way.”

“Talking to yourself again, Mol?”

Molly turned to see her best friend stepping into her small office. They’d met when they were ten or eleven, when Autumn’s wealthy family vacationed at the resort two years in a row. When she didn’t return for the third year, they exchanged postcards until their friendship faded in their early teens. Two years ago, a scandal involving Autumn’s father—a famous Hollywood producer—chased her out of LA and she landed at Moonlight Ridge as their independent wedding planner.

Their friendship sparked again and these days Autumn ran all their weddings and events on a shared profit basis, and also arranged functions throughout Asheville as an independent contractor.

Autumn pushed her black glasses up her nose and joined Molly at the window, placing a hand between her shoulders. “Are you okay?” she quietly asked.

Of course she was. Maybe.

Molly stared at the Degas print on the opposite wall. The ballerina wore a frothy tutu, was on pointe and tilting down. In her teens Molly had been a talented dancer, one with a lot of promise, but she’d lost her beloved ballet that long-ago summer, along with so much else.

“Not really,” she quietly admitted. Turning, she placed her bottom on the wooden windowsill and shrugged. “I’m hurt that, despite having worked here my entire life except for college, Jameson feels the need to bring in his sons to oversee operations.”

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