Ever Always (4 page)

H
ey, man,” said Lucas, a member of the team Hunter managed at the lumberyard. “Did your brother really kill Ever's father?”

“Seriously, Luke?” grunted Hunter as he stepped down from the forklift he'd been operating.

Lucas shrugged. “Everyone wants to know. You don't talk about it.”

Hunter slid his safety glasses up onto his head. He wiped his forehead free of the lumber dust floating around in the open air. “I don't talk about the fact that my brother's accused of murder and has disappeared? Wonder why I don't talk about any of that, Luke? Where the hell is your brain?”

“Sorry, Hunter,” said Lucas, looking properly abashed. “One more question, not about Sam. Now that he's gone, does that mean Ever's free? She's fucking hot.”

Lucas was on the ground, held under Hunter's knee and staring up into his raised fist before anyone could blink.

Shouts from the worksite echoed around them, but Hunter's gaze was tinged with red and focused solely on Lucas.

“Say that again,” he said, his voice dangerous and low. “Talk about Ever like that again, Luke. Do it.”

Lucas's eyes widened. “What the hell, Hunter? She's not your girl. She's Sam's! So I just thought—”

“Lucas, shut the fuck up!” Cross Patterson ran onto the scene, kneeling next to Hunter and grabbing the elbow of the raised fist. “Just stop talking!”

Hunter's eyes didn't leave Lucas as he silently dared him to speak about Ever again like a damn locker room topic.

Cross was a friend of Hunter's from high school and beyond. He'd actually gone on to college after graduation on a basketball scholarship but found that the higher education life wasn't for him. When he came back home after his freshman year, Hunter had put him on at the lumberyard, and they'd been pretty tight ever since.

The two men were similar in build, but Hunter's light hair and eyes were a world apart from Cross's nearly black waves that curled around his neck and chocolate-brown gaze. Cross was probably the only one who would be capable of pulling Hunter off of Lucas right now.

“Hey, Hunt? You look like a fucking psycho, buddy. Back off.”

Hunter blinked, the red haze receding as quickly as it had arrived. He gripped Lucas's shirt tighter for just a second before he released him. He stood, walking off the work site and going to sit in his truck.

His breath was still coming fast and hard, and he stared out the window without seeing the scene of the yard stretched in front of him. He only saw Ever, and her face after he'd walked out on her days ago. He saw her graceful body standing in that towel, with absolutely nothing on beneath it. When he'd tried to return the next day to check on her, she'd stood at the door and feigned exhaustion. Okay, maybe she wasn't faking it. He was sure she
was
exhausted.

He just couldn't stand the fact that she hadn't even let him in the door.

He was going to have to make it right with her—fast, or he'd go insane right in front of the men he managed.

A few seconds later, the passenger-side door of his truck opened and Cross slid in beside him. He mimicked Hunter, staring out the front windshield at the sprawling scene of loggers and machinery moving in a flurry of production in front of them.

“So,” said Cross slowly, “when exactly did you go and fall in love with your brother's girl?”

The words hit Hunter like a burning slap across his face, and his head whipped around as he stared at Cross in horror.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Cross shook his head. “Don't, man. Just don't. This is me you're talking to. I'm not Sam, but I know you pretty damn well. You love her. You've been spending a lot of time with her lately. I don't know all the details of what went on between you three the night Ever's father was shot, but it was intense and you aren't the same. I have a feeling Ever isn't either. So don't give me shit. Just tell me…when did it happen?”

Hunter took a deep breath, and his hands trembled as he released it.

Ever's face flashed in his mind again: creamy skin, faint dusting of adorable brown freckles, striking dark red hair blowing in the wind around her as she laughed while she reeled in a fish…fucking hell.

He loved her.

He was absolutely, irrevocably, balls-to-the-wall in love with her.

“It didn't happen like you think,” he said quietly. He was suddenly desperate to make someone else understand an incomprehensible situation. Just thinking about it over and over again inside his own head was driving him insane. He wanted Cross to hear him out. Maybe if he could understand it, he'd be able to make Sam understand it. “It's not like Sam up and left, and I moved in on his girl.”

Cross nodded. “I know that, Hunt.”

The words tumbled out in a rush of clogged emotion and turmoil. “I've loved her since we were kids. I know her better than anyone. Maybe even better than Sam. But she chose him, and I backed off immediately. I wasn't going to turn it into a war.”

Cross lifted his gaze to the ceiling and breathed out. When he met Hunter's gaze again, his eyes were sympathetic. “That shit is heavy, Hunt. I had no idea. What are you going to do?”

Hunter shook his head. “She's not ready. Sam's not ready. Shit, I'm not even ready. But Cross…I don't think they're going to make it. They don't even realize it yet. But they've been moving in two different directions for a long time now. Sam's taken the first step in a new life, and Ever's stuck here behind, waiting on him. She's not ready for this. For me. But when she is…”

“You're gonna make a move?”

Hunter blew out a breath. He hadn't known the answer to this question until that very moment. Now he thought that maybe the answer would set him free. Or maybe it would curse him to the special circle of hell reserved for brother-betraying woman stealers. “I don't want to hurt my brother. And I don't want Ever to have to be hurt any more than she already has been. But somehow it feels like we belong together. I just hope all our hearts are left standing when it's all said and done.”

Ever stared at her reflection in her full-length mirror, finally feeling a little more like herself again. Worn jeans. Boots. A flannel shirt worn open over a tight ribbed tank. The shirt would end up tied around her waist before her shift at the bakery was over. It was hot in there, and the warm tendrils of April air at the base of the mountains would only serve as fuel for the heat in Lacey's kitchen.

When she pulled into her regular spot in front of Sugar Coated, she slammed the truck door shut and paused, staring at the shop front next door.

A dry-cleaning service had closed months ago when the owner went out of business, and the shop had been empty ever since. Lacey had even voiced dreams of buying it and expanding Sugar Coated. But now, Ever could see the place was no longer empty. She was caught staring when a girl about her age backed out of the shop with her hands full of boxes and turned around.

“Oh, hey,” she said brightly. Her cheerful demeanor matched her spiraled blond hair and happy smile. Ever couldn't help but smile back.

“Hey,” she replied. “You're moving into this shop?”

“Well, my plants are,” said the girl. “I'm Rilla, short for Marilla, and I'm opening a florist shop here. My mom had a thing for
Anne of Green Gables
—hence, the weirdo name.”

Ever strode toward the girl until she was close enough to take a box from her hands. “
You're
opening it? Yourself? That's pretty impressive. I work at the bakery next door. I've only dreamed of being able to open my own bake shop.”

“See, now, I think
that's
amazing,” said Rilla. “I can't toast bread, much less bake something that actually tastes good. If you want to open your own shop, you must have talent. All I do is grow flowers, and I happen to arrange them pretty well.”

Ever helped Rilla place the boxes into the trunk of a shiny white Prius parked behind her truck. Her truck looked like a total beater by comparison.

“Do you drive that?” asked Rilla, smiling.

Ever nodded. “Damn right I do.”

Rilla laughed, and Ever thought the sound was actually prettier than wind chimes on an old porch.

“I'm Ever Allen,” she said, sticking out her hand. “You've got nothing on me for weird names. You're not from around here.”

The last part was a statement, not a question. Had Rilla been from Duck Creek, Ever would have already known her. Not to mention the fact that the marked absence of a Southern accent told of the girl's lack of roots this side of the Mason-Dixon.

“Nope,” confirmed Rilla. They stood on the sidewalk beside Rilla's car, facing the shop windows. “I just moved into the space above the shop, actually. From Maryland.”

“Ah,” replied Ever. “I see. Well, it's nice to meet you.”

She suddenly felt shy. She'd honestly never had a friend, other than the Waters boys. Girls from school had always shied away from the darkness on the other side of her smile, and Ever gladly kept them all at arm's length. Who wanted to have a friend over in the middle of a war zone? Not her.

Rilla wasn't put off by Ever's quiet send-off. “Yeah, you too! Maybe we can get together for a drink sometime soon. I don't know anyone in town. Be nice to meet some people.”

Ever nodded, afraid to tell Rilla that she'd be the very last person who should show the new girl around town. She headed into Sugar Coated and tied on her apron, which was hanging behind the counter. Lacey was in the back, prepping batter for some of the day's goodies.

“Did you know a new shop owner is moving in next door?” she asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah; saw her unlock her door this morning,” said Lacey. She brushed a long strand of dark hair, streaked with gray, off her forehead. “Seems nice. What was her name? Somethin' strange.”

Ever smiled. “Rilla. Short for Marilla.”

Lacey looked up at her, surprised. “You met her? And talked to her? Well, that's a nice change for you, isn't it? Be nice for you to have a friend, I think. Now get to work, girl. There's bakin' to be done.”

Ever got to work. She smiled into her cupcake batter for the first time in weeks.

She might have a friend. The thought was pleasant enough to drive away the sick feeling lurking in her gut over the fact that she hadn't heard from Sam in days, and she'd blown off Hunter after their not-so-civil parting last week.

Sam had written her a letter. She couldn't hear his voice through a letter, though. She definitely couldn't reach out and touch him. She missed the safety of his huge, solid body lying next to hers. She missed the way he made everything all right. She missed thinking that one day they'd end up together. That feeling was, tragically, starting to fade.

She was terrified that she was losing Sam.

She was also terrified because she had always suspected Sam was the only thing that tethered her fragile soul to the world around her. Without him, she worried that she'd just up and float away.

T
oday he wouldn't take no for an answer. It'd been a week since Ever had brushed him off her doorstep. He could literally feel her drawing further into herself. He was afraid she'd disappear if he didn't root her out again.

Ever was tough. She'd been through more than any one person should have to endure, with the loss of her mother at a young age and the savagery of a father who didn't know how to grieve. But the tragedy she'd experienced over the last few weeks was going to eat her from the inside out if she didn't have help.

Hunter knew perfectly well that Sam had always served as Ever's lifeline, but Sam wasn't here now. And Ever was drowning.

He parked his truck in front of hers outside the bakery near the end of her shift. When the little bell above the door tingled, announcing his arrival, he was enveloped in the welcoming, warm scent of sugar and flour and every sweet thing he could imagine. He loved this bakery. He also loved the girl behind the counter—who, he was surprised to see, was talking to a bubbly blonde he didn't recognize.

 “Hey, Ev.” His greeting was careful and casual as he attempted to cover up how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

“Hey,” she replied. “Rilla, this is my…boyfriend's brother. Hunter Waters.”

Rilla turned, and Hunter noticed the surprise in her eyes as her gaze slid from his face down his body and back up again. He cleared his throat.

“Rilla? Nice to meet you.” He ignored the sting of her words, though he hadn't missed the slight hesitation as she figured out what to call him.

“Boyfriend's brother, huh?” Rilla's interest was piqued, Hunter could tell. Maybe Ever could tell, too; her eyes were downcast and she was furiously wiping the perfectly clean countertop in front of her.

Rilla patted the stool next to hers. “Have a seat, Hunter. I'm new around here—just bought the shop next door. It's now going to be called Vines. I'm a florist.”

“Are you?” Hunter took the seat next to Rilla. She was definitely beautiful with all that curly blond hair and fair skin.

But his gaze involuntarily turned right back to Ever, moving slowly down her body and back up again. He liked that she was back in her tight jeans and that a hint of cleavage peeked out from the top of her tank. Damn, damn, damn. He clenched his leg muscles to keep himself in his seat.

“How've you been, Ever?” he asked, his voice more intense than he intended it to be. God, he
missed
her. He began to fidget. He'd gotten off a fourteen-hour shift a while ago and had time to go home and shower. But he felt the need to check himself, make sure he looked all right.

He'd thrown on a pair of dark jeans, worn leather boots, and a short-sleeved, army-green shirt with snap buttons over a plain white T-shirt. He was second-guessing his choices. That was so unlike him; he wanted to kick himself. He never gave a shit what anyone else thought.

But right now, he gave a big shit.

Rilla, who'd been letting her eyes travel back and forth between Ever and Hunter for the last minute, suddenly stood. Glancing at Ever, she reached out a hand and ran a finger over Hunter's shoulders. Surprised, he glanced up at her.

“I was just telling Ever here that we should go grab a drink tomorrow night after work, seeing as how it'll be my first Friday night as a Duck Creek resident. Now that I've met you, Hunter, I'm hoping you'll join us. I'd really love to see you again.”

Ever's head snapped up. Hunter recognized the firecracker expression on her face, and braced himself. He suddenly hoped Rilla did the same.

“Hunter isn't available tomorrow night,” she said in a voice as sharp as a switchblade. She lifted her chin with stubborn grace in Rilla's direction, and Hunter's sudden arousal tightened against his jeans. Which made him feel five kinds of guilty.

“He isn't?” asked Rilla with a sly smile. “Bummer. Oh, well, maybe another time then.”

Ever's teeth snapped together and Rilla actually chuckled under her breath. Hunter was slightly confused. He'd thought they seemed like friends when he first walked in. Although it would have been the first time he'd ever seen Ever with a girlfriend.

“Nice to meet you, Rilla,” he said as she bounced toward the door.

“You, too!” Her bright voice echoed over the tinkling bell that announced her exit. Hunter thought he heard her chuckle again as the door closed behind her.

Ever's face was pale and taut. He reached over and placed his large hand over her small one, stilling her furious wiping.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Go for a drive with me.”

Sighing, she nodded, throwing down the towel. “Just let me tell Lacey I'm gone.”

He nodded, his heart leaping for joy at the fact she'd said yes.

Regardless of his own traitorous feelings for Ever, he
had
promised Sam he'd take care of her. He couldn't do that if she wasn't speaking to him.

And she was going to be sitting beside him in his truck. They'd grown up best friends, closer than two sheets of paper in a notebook, but she'd never been in his truck.

Oh, hell.

He rushed outside, hurriedly throwing junk from the passenger seat into the cab. He finished clearing her spot as she came out of the shop, looking apprehensive. The small wrinkle in her tiny nose as she stared at him melted his insides.

He held open her door. “Get in, Ev.”

Nodding, she stepped forward and grabbed the door handle, pulling herself up into the seat. He resisted the urge to place his hands on her hips to help her. He wasn't going to touch her. She wasn't his.

But as much as he was beginning to want her—really want her—he needed to make her safe and happy above all else. She was safe from her father, but not from herself. And she definitely wasn't happy.

“So,” he said as he drove.

“So,” she replied. She stared out her window, watching as the trees rushed past in the dusky evening light. They were headed for the creek.

“Ever—”

“Hunter—” she said simultaneously.

They glanced at each other, then burst out laughing. Hers was light and airy, and it wrapped him up like a cloud.

“Are we good?” he asked simply.

“We're good,” she said. “Want to tell me what happened that day?”

“Not particularly,” he said honestly. “Do I have to?”

“Nope,” she answered.

And they left it at that. The silence was easy and comfortable again as they drove.

“Have you heard from Sam?” she asked as he pulled over next to the spot where the road met a path through the woods toward the creek.

“Probably not since you have,” he said slowly. “How is he?”

“God, Hunter,” she said, pulling a hand though her ridiculously thick auburn ponytail. “I wouldn't know.”

They got out of the car and began to walk, and her feelings poured out of her.

“I feel like he just up and moved to the beach, and now he's having the time of his life. He has a job and lives on the property with this family he doesn't even know. He's probably going out and having fun with all of these new people. And I'm back here—like, what the
hell
? And then I feel awful for thinking all of that, because he
did
sacrifice his freedom for mine, and he's on the run, not on vacation, and he probably feels lost without us. Right?”

Hunter listened, his hands stuck deep into his pockets. The silence stretched between them as they reached the water, and they stared out at where the moonlight danced across the ripples.

“Ev,” he said, “I wish I was inside Sam's head. I really do. But I'm not, and I have no idea what he's doing or thinking. We're brothers, but we're not the same. I wouldn't have made the same decision he did. So I can't begin to understand it. The sentiment behind it, yes. But not the act.”

She sank down onto a big, flat rock, still staring out at the water. Then, she shifted her gaze up at the stars as she leaned back onto her elbows.

“I wish to God he hadn't left. I think we could have worked all of this out another way. I mean, Daddy's gone. I can get past anything now that he's gone. But I don't want it to come at the cost of Sam's freedom.”

Her voice was distant, lost. She could have been talking to the moon, except that she slid her eyes to Hunter when she finished.

He joined her on the rock, copying her position. “I don't think Sam ever belonged in Duck Creek the way you do. Or the way I do. He was always going to leave. I know he expected you to go with him.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I love Duck Creek. I know that so many terrible things happened to me here, but in the end, this is my home. I'm a hometown girl, through and through. I never wanted to leave.”

“Did you ever tell him that?”

She shook her head, using her wrist to wipe the tears. Hunter's hand twitched; he wanted to wipe them away for her. “No. I kind of just went along with whatever he said. Sam always had so much ambition. I kind of got swept up in all of his dreams. But they weren't mine.”

The silence was heavy this time.

“Oh God,” she choked. “I'm losing him.”

She jumped up and hurtled back down the path toward the truck. She was moving at a sprint, but he caught her easily. Twigs snapped beneath their feet as they ran, and the sting of branches whipping against his skin wasn't enough to slow him down.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, and they slammed to a stop as she whirled around to face him. Their bodies were merely inches apart, and hers was quivering just like his insides.

“You don't have to run away from me, Ever,” he whispered.

The moonlight highlighted her delicate features, and his breath was stolen as he stood looking down at her. He couldn't touch her, couldn't let her know how he felt. His heart ripped in two, and his own anguish was mirrored in her expression.

He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, locked in each other's gaze. It could have been seconds or it could have been minutes.

He didn't move a muscle. He didn't even blink. But his heart was betraying him in his chest, hammering like it wanted to break free of its captivity.

Finally, she broke their connection, eyes downcast as she gently took his hand in hers. He was still under her spell, but he glanced down as she laced their fingers together. The hot current running through him sparked with even more heat when her skin touched his.

They walked slowly, neither of them speaking, back down the path and to the truck. Hunter opened Ever's door, again resisted the urge to help her up, and closed it gently behind her.

As he walked around to his side of the truck, he inhaled deeply and let it out. Then he looked up into the heavens and said a silent prayer, asking God to forgive him for the complete and utter devotion he harbored toward his brother's girl.

As he drove back toward Main Street and the bakery where she'd left her truck, Hunter glanced over at Ever. She was staring at him with a deeply furrowed brow.

“What's wrong?”

As if he had to ask.

She hesitated, and he reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Run toward me, remember?”

Her nose wrinkled, his chest tightened painfully, and she nodded.

“So, the girl who owns the flower shop? Rilla?”

Her voice was so low and full of insecurity that he had to look at her twice. Was she…was Ever
jealous
?

“Yeah,” he said, amused. “Where'd she come from?”

Ever shot him an annoyed glance. “You interested?”

Hunter slammed his foot down on the brake, stopping in the middle of the road. He threw the truck into park and turned to face Ever.

“What are you really asking, Ever? If I want to take her out? Or kiss her? Or touch her? Or hold her in my bed at night? No, Ev. There's only one girl in Duck Creek, or anywhere on Earth for that matter, that I want to do those things with. And it ain't Rilla-whoever-the-fuck-she-is.”

As she turned to look at him, he felt a need so strong it nearly swallowed him whole.

But all he could do was start the truck again, drive her back to the shop, and hope like hell he hadn't screwed things up.