Whatever We Are: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 3) Read online

  “Hey, you.” Liza slipped her tiny frame into the wooden chair across from him, setting her coffee cup on the table. She was loaded down with a thick accordion folder and her laptop, which she dropped on the chair beside her.

  “Morning.” He placed his cell phone face-down on the table and leaned back in his chair. He held his steaming cup between his hands, taking in the change of hair color—pink—which, crazy as it was, seemed to intensify her blue eyes. For the past year, they had met every Monday morning for coffee, but today it felt different, as if they were truly a couple. Yesterday at brunch he’d experienced a bit of what their future could be.

  “Hello.” She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, jarring him from his musing. “Is anyone home?” She rapped her knuckle on his forehead.

  “Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “Well, don’t hurt yourself.” She chuckled as she tipped her cup.

  “What have you got there?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” She swatted the air as if a fly were nagging her. “Just some paperwork from, uh, you know, invoices from Christmas card sales and bills.”

  “I thought you said you were finished with all that for the year.”

  “Well, you know how it is. Last minute stuff.” She placed her cup on the table, and swirled it in circles, not meeting his eyes. “What about you? What’ve you got going today?”

  “Me? Oh, just the usual. Heading out to the brewery, nothing out of the ordinary, checking on orders and such.” Actually, he was headed to Charleston to meet with the architect to go over final changes to the castle renovations, and he had an appointment at a bank to discuss financing the project should he be awarded the bid. He wanted to tell her about his plans, but wanted even more to surprise her. “Want to go out to dinner tonight?”

  That got her attention. “Dinner?”

  “We’re dating, remember? Mr. and Mrs. Claus?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s important to keep up appearances.” Liza glanced at her watch and then consulted the calendar on her phone. “Um, sure, but can we wait until seven?”

  Tucker snorted, and leaned back in the chair. “Those invoices going to keep you busy until then?”

  “No, but I just have things to do.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Just stuff, okay?” Liza fussed with her accordion folder, straightening the file, and not meeting Tucker’s eyes again.

  Tucker threw his hands up in surrender while his lips curled in amusement. “Now that you’re Mrs. Claus, you might want to reconsider your wardrobe.” She wore a red and green “Merry Whatever” T-shirt, which probably wasn’t the best choice under the circumstances. “Time to stop boycotting Christmas.”

  “I’m not boycotting exactly.” Liza lifted her cup to her lips and said over the steam, “I just don’t get into all the tinsel, reindeer, Santa crap.”

  “Let me get this straight.” He slid his coffee cup into the center of the table and rested his elbows on the edge. “You, Miss Award-Winning Watercolor Artist, who paints custom-made Christmas cards, hates Christmas. Explain to me again how that’s possible?”

  “It was only one award.” Her eyes narrowed as she glanced away. “I haven’t always hated Christmas. Besides, I’m not stupid. Those cheesy Christmas cards help pay the bills.”

  “Maybe as Mr. Claus, I’ll help you recapture your love of the holiday.” Tucker picked up his coffee.

  “Don’t do me any favors.” She raised her hand up like a crossing guard as he chuckled against the plastic lid. “You heading to the brewery soon?”

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “No, it’s just—” She rolled her eyes toward the chair and patted the thick folder. “—lots of work to do.”

  “I can take a hint.” He stood, plunging his arms into his leather jacket while savoring one last look at her. He had to make tonight special. It could be the official start of something special—the beginning of their love story, eight years in the making. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Pick me up? I’ll meet you.”

  “Nope, like you said we have to keep up appearances. We’re a couple out on a date, so I’m picking you up.”

  “Whatever you say, Mr. Claus.”

  “That’s the spirit, Mrs. Claus.” Tucker dropped a kiss on Liza’s cheek, leaving her with her mouth hanging open as he strolled out of the shop. With a little planning and finesse, he just might turn this charade into the real thing.

  ***

  Tucker was carrying this ruse too far. Yesterday at brunch he spun a web of romantic lies and now he offered to take her to dinner, and left a kiss on her cheek. She laid her hand against the lingering sweetness of his gesture. Sure, they’d dined together before, and he’d even kissed her cheek, but never with such a feeling of intimacy. Surely this was all an act. He only saw her as Brody’s little sister who also happened to be his friend. Taking that friendship further, especially this time of year, would only result in disaster.

  “Liza.”

  The deep voice made her jump in her chair, causing her to plug the wrong numbers into the financial statement she was creating for her appointment at the bank later today. She lowered the lid on her laptop and shifted her gaze toward Bret, who was standing over her left shoulder.

  “I’m surprised to find you here at this hour,” he said, pointing at an empty chair. “May I?”

  She gestured awkwardly toward the chair. What did he think the two of them could possibly talk about? He was dating her fabulous cousin—that certainly wasn’t an interesting topic. Or maybe he’d rather re-hash their high school years. That could make for some uncomfortable conversation.

  “I was happy to hear at Thanksgiving you’re still painting.” Bret adjusted his necktie and unbuttoned his navy blazer with quivering hands. Was he nervous?

  “Yup, I’m still painting.” She sat back in her chair and draped her leg over her knee. “I have a commissioned piece I’ll start later this week.”

  “Commissioned? That means someone hired you to paint something for them?”

  “That’s what it means.” She kept her gaze zeroed on him, fighting an eye roll. She had seen little of Bret since the night at the river which had ended in the wreck that had ruined Christmas for her once and for all. During those few times he’d barely spoken a word to her.

  Bret nodded, and smiled. “That’s impressive. Congratulations.”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “Not really. I knew you had talent. Even back in high school I recognized your artistic abilities.”

  Liza arched a brow in Bret’s direction. “I remember those abilities helped you pass the class.”

  His complexion darkened as he snickered with embarrassment. “Thanks to you I got an A. You might remember I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but we had fun in that class.”

  “Think so?”

  “Definitely. It was the best class of the semester because of you.” His lips curled seductively and his eyes narrowed, but even with his handsome, classic, country-club looks, he made her skin crawl.

  “Well…” She squirmed in her chair. He was so earnest and complimentary, but she didn’t trust him. Her memory was sketchy, but she knew he had said some terrible things prior to her getting behind the wheel. Diana was in the car when they hit the tree, and though Liza still couldn’t remember everything, she knew Diana caused the wreck. Of all her Christmas catastrophes, that was the one that stung the most.

  “I was happy to hear you’re still planning on opening your gallery. Honestly, as much as you talked about it in high school, I thought you would’ve done it by now.”

  “It takes time.” Liza shrugged, and sipped her coffee.

  “But you found a location?”

  “Maybe, but I still need to do some preliminary work before I get open.” And then she would create the foremost art gallery in the region, proving once and for all to her family that she could be a success. Anything Diana had accomplished would pal
e in comparison. “What about you? What are you into these days?”

  “I’m working for my dad. I’ve taken over the central division.”

  “Running your chain of convenience stores and gas stations?”

  “Right, we’ve just opened three more stores. Doing really well.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “We’re looking into buying that block at the end of Main Street.”

  “The castle?” Now her hands quivered. If Bridges Enterprises bid on the property, there would be no way she could buy the building. They had too much money and power. The measly mortgage she planned to take out on her house would never compete with their millions.

  “Yeah. That corner will make a great location for another gas station.”

  “But the castle is a historical building. My great-grandfather built it. You can’t tear it down.”

  “It’s not protected as a historical building. It may have been nice back in the 1920s, but if you ask me, it’s just an eyesore.”

  Her stomach roiled at the thought of that beautiful, majestic stone building reduced to a pile of rubble only to be replaced with a pre-fabricated building and gas pumps.

  “Can’t you find another location?”

  “Why would we want to?”

  Because that’s my gallery!

  “Because it’s a landmark, a legacy, a reminder to us all that some things are too important to tear down.”

  Liza shot out of her chair and, by the number of faces staring at her, she must have spoken too loudly. Bret rocked back in his chair, surprised by her outburst. They couldn’t tear it down. They just couldn’t. That was her gallery, her dream, her great-grandfather’s dream. She had to find a way to convince him the corner would be a bad location for his company. One by one, folks returned to their conversations or portable devices, and her blood pressure gradually returned to normal. She settled into her seat and lifted her cup with a shaking hand.

  “What would you suggest someone do with it?” Bret asked.

  “They could convert it into a restaurant or a theatre or a museum. Something other than another gas station.”

  “Do you have any idea how much money it would take to fix that place up? It’s been home to pigeons and other vermin for years. They don’t call it Crap-a-Lot for nothing.”

  That was a nickname she’d never heard before.

  “The plaster walls are crumbling, the doors are rotted. I could go on and on. The best thing we could do is set a wrecking ball to it.”

  “You’ve been inside?”

  “Sure. It needs to be condemned.”

  That’s not what she saw when Darla had taken her through the building. Yes, it had been neglected for too many years, but it was a solid building, with thick oak doors and wide ornate woodwork. The mullioned windows and turn-of-the-century light fixtures added to the historic ambiance—perfect for her gallery.

  “It may need work on the inside, but the outside is solid granite. It will take more than a wrecking ball to knock it down,” she said.

  “I’m not sure there is much you will be able to do about it. The city is accepting bids starting next week, and I feel confident we’ll get it. The town stands to gain a lot of money in tax revenue with our plan.”

  “No way. The committee can’t award the bid to you.”

  “Liza.” He reached across the table with a patronizing snicker. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how you or anyone else can stop it.”

  She snatched her arm away, his touch like a cattle prod against her skin. “Just watch me.”

  She gathered her laptop under her arm, slung her purse over her shoulder, and stormed off, knocking chairs with her hip and brushing by customers on her way to the door. Once outside, she drew in a lungful of cold, mountain air, trying to settle her thumping heart. That beautiful building couldn’t meet with a five-ton wrecking ball. Sitting all alone on the bare lot at the end of town, the castle wasn’t an eyesore at all, but a majestic medieval fortress with its two corner towers and parapet firmly rooted in the town’s history. The castle would become her gallery, no matter what she had to do.

  SEVEN

  “Rack ‘em up, bud.” Travis flipped his long, blond dreadlocks over his shoulder and lifted his finger to signal a waitress. “This place is packed tonight.”

  “Friday night. What did you expect?” Tucker slowly removed the triangle from around the perfectly aligned pool balls and pointed his cue at Travis. “Break ‘em.”

  Tucker tipped his beer toward his lips and glanced over his shoulder at the bar. With her hands above her head, Liza did a little Latin dance, shaking the cocktail shaker to the beat of the music. He chuckled as he took a long pull on his beer and watched her pour a pink concoction across three frosted martini glasses. She handed them to a group of stylish young women gathered at the bar.

  “Hey, you playing or not?” Impatiently, Travis tapped his pool cue on the edge of the table. “What’s got your attention over there?”

  Tucker shook his head as he bent over the table, lining up a straight diagonal shot. “Nothing.”

  “Well, you’ve sure been more interested in what’s going on over there than this game. Is it that group of ladies at the bar?”

  “Nah. It’s nothing.” The white ball shot off the end of his cue like a rocket, sinking a striped ball in the pocket. He went around to the opposite end of the pool table, where he could covertly catch a glimpse of Liza at work. He had a hunch the three Cosmo drinking girls at the bar were friends of Diana’s. The way they’d been watching Liza then gossiping in a huddle gave him the distinct impression they’d heard the rumors. He didn’t know the group of women sidled up to the bar, but it might be worth it to check them out.

  “You’re on fire tonight.” Travis once again signaled the waitress shuffling from one table to the next. “I don’t think we’re going to get a refill at this rate.”

  “Let me get this round.” Travis had provided the perfect excuse to head to the bar. As he approached, Liza was pouring a draft beer, smiling and talking to a man sitting by the taps while the three fashion models kept up their chatter. He squeezed between them and an empty barstool, and leaned his elbow on the bar. Liza must have sensed his presence because her gaze popped up from the frothy glass and a huge smile spread across her face, melting his heart.

  “Hey, you. From here it looks like you’ve been kicking Travis’s butt.”

  His mouth stretched into a playful grin. “You’ve been checking me out?”

  “Oh, yeah, I always check you out.” She winked at him and gathered three beer glasses in her hands, shuffling toward the end of the bar. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the threesome gather in a tight circle, never taking their eyes off Liza.

  When she returned, she planted herself directly in front of Tucker and rose onto her on tiptoes, rubbing his smooth cheek with the back of her hand. If she only knew what her friendly gesture did to him.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Two beers. Misty—”

  “Misty Mountain. You got it.”

  She hustled to a set of taps on the opposite end of the bar while he rested his folded arms on the wood. When she stopped to talk with another customer, he overheard the women beside him whispering.

  “I bet that’s him.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Has to be. Did you see how she winked at him and touched his cheek?”

  “He doesn’t look like her type at all.”

  Tucker’s ears perked up when he realized they were talking about him. He reached across the bar toward the napkins, leaning close enough to notice them looking at him through his periphery.

  “Yeah, he’s way too hot for her.”

  “Maybe he thawed her out. You know what they always said about her.” The threesome giggled. “I’m going to text Diana right now.”

  So, they were Diana’s friends. He’d suspected it by the way they were dressed. Short skirts, high heels, and flashy jewelry weren’t the
usual dress code at the Brass Rail. He’d never seen them before—obviously, he and the models didn’t run in the same social set.

  “She’s coming down. I wonder if she knows him.”

  “I can’t believe Liza could snag a guy like that.”

  Tucker pushed off from the bar and worked his way to the waitress station. He flagged Liza in his direction.

  “Why’d you move?” She set two foamy pints in front of him.

  “Don’t look, but do you know those girls clustered there in the middle of the bar?”

  “Yeah, I went to high school with them.”

  “Well, they’ve figured out—”

  She held up her finger. “Hold that thought. I have to take care of these guys in the corner.” She rushed away before he could tell her news of their “relationship” had spread through Highland Springs.

  So far, he thought it had been limited to brunch at Brody and Kate’s, but he shouldn’t be surprised. They lived in a small town where news spread like wildfire. He had done his part to help spread the news by taking her to dinner Monday night at his mom’s diner, where gossip and eavesdropping were on the daily menu. Diana was on her way to the bar, so it was important they looked and acted like a real couple.

  He picked up the beers, fighting back a grin as he returned to the pool table. He had a plan to make things more interesting.

  After they finished their last pool game, he and Travis relinquished the table to a couple of oil guys and grabbed the last two seats at the end of the bar. From their vantage point, Tucker could keep an eye on the door and Diana’s friends.

  “Why don’t you just go over and talk to them already.” Travis nudged him hard, causing his beer to slop over the side of the glass onto his hand.

  “I’m not—” Tucker sucked the beer off his knuckles and wiped the rest on his jeans. “I’m not checking them out. Well, I am, but not the reason you think.”

  “Then why is it every time I ask you a question, you don’t answer because you’re locked and loaded on those girls.”

  “They’re Diana’s friends, Liza’s cousin.”