Return To Us (Sand & Fog Series Book 6) Read online

  Return to Us

  Sand & Fog series

  Book 6

  Susan Ward

  Copyright © 2018 Susan Ward

  All rights reserved.

  All Rights Reserved. In Accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists and song titles, and lyrics throughout this book is done for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  About Willow & Eric

  Free Book Offer

  Let’s stay in touch

  Dedication

  Dreams

  Quote

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Epilogue

  Excerpt Lost in Him

  Excerpt The Girl of Sand & Fog

  Excerpt Broken Crown

  About The Author

  About Willow & Eric

  It’s not possible. Did I fall in love with the same guy twice and not know it?

  Willow…

  I’ve pretty much sworn off love and men. You would, too, if you had my lousy track record.

  Before I started college, I fell in love with a sexy Brit. Only he forgot to tell me that he was a lying cheater and married. Got my heart broken good by him.

  Then I tried marriage. He was a lying cheater as well, and now I’m divorced.

  That’s proof enough I shouldn’t date men.

  So imagine my surprise when a gorgeous street musician shows up in front of the bar I own and I’m serenaded ten hours a day by a voice that makes my pulse race.

  The next thing I know, I’m falling in love with him…

  Eric…

  I looked up Willow to make amends to her, and I fell fast and hard for her like I did the first time I met her.

  The deeper I go with her, the harder it is to explain who I am and why I’m here.

  This isn’t what I planned. But I can’t shut it down. I don’t want to.

  Then family tragedy causes me to leave her unexpectedly.

  But make no mistake.

  This time I’m not letting her go…

  Willow & Eric’s story is a two-book miniseries. The books must be read in order to understand the story:

  Part 1: Gone Guy

  Part 2: Return to Us

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  Dedication

  This story is for every girl who was ever brave enough after having her heart broken to reach for her happy ending.

  Dreams

  I never understood my sister, not until after Eric.

  But now I do.

  It’s when our dreams die that women become hard, practical, and make the wrong choices.~ Willow

  Quote

  “The trick isn’t to change who the man is; it’s to change how he uses who he is to better his life and the lives of those he loves.” ~ Jackson Parker.

  Prologue

  Willow

  The present…

  AS I FIGHT TO merge across two lanes of clogged traffic toward my off-ramp, my phone rings.

  Perfect timing—not.

  I don’t need to glance at the dash for the caller ID to know who it is, but I do it anyway. Of course, it’s my sister calling from her comfy home in the burbs that she never has to leave unless she wants to, thanks to her husband’s thriving tech company.

  Keeping my eye on the Audi determined not to let me get in so I can exit the freeway, I listen to the rings and debate whether to answer. I know what this is about, and I can’t decide if it’s better to take the call now five minutes out from work, so I can cut it short, or wait until I’m somewhere quiet not battling a.m. commuters.

  After the third ring, my thumb hits the answer button on my steering wheel before my mind has committed to talking to Jade without having had my first cup of morning coffee.

  Damn it, why do I always feel obligated to answer her? “Hey, Jade. I’m almost to work. Can I call you later? Traffic is a bitch this morning. I won’t be able to focus until I’m parked, and we don’t want me getting into an accident—”

  “No, not letting you call me later,” my sister says over my words. “We haven’t talked in a week. You’re avoiding me. Are you angry? I don’t want you to be. It couldn’t be helped. You know that. Can we talk about it and move on? I can’t stand it when we’re not talking.”

  “Sweetie, I’m not angry. I’ve had a busy week. That’s why I haven’t had time to talk. And I understand why you felt it necessary to invite Dean to your anniversary party.”

  There’s a noticeable pause where I try to figure out if I said that part about my ex-husband in a believable way. My mouth scrunches left, right, then does it again.

  Oh crap, the silence from the other end continues. That means Jade’s digesting. And tells me, no, I wasn’t believable.

  “Dean is Gary’s business partner,” she replies in her softest voice, the one she uses when she wants me not to get emotional. “I don’t like it, but that’s a fact. And we can’t exclude him. My husband and your ex are friends and partners. It’s one of the things we have to manage.”

  We? Who’s the we here? I’m the one who worked while Dean mad
e no money with his tech start-up, and was divorced by him right before the company took off and the dollars started rolling in.

  It wasn’t Jade or Gary who got left high and dry by my selfish, cheating ex.

  They’re living their oh-so-happy life fully appointed with the best of everything while I struggle working fifteen-hour days trying to keep our dad’s bar—disappointing inheritance though it is—from going under.

  Where’s the we in that? I let the silence remain for another block of driving, and then say, “I understand. I wouldn’t want to create a problem between Gary and Dean, and we’ve all known each other since college. You’ve gotta believe me. I get it and I’m not angry. I’ve been wearing big girl panties twenty-four/seven since Dad died.”

  “I’d help you with the bar if I could.”

  “I know you would, Jade. I appreciate how busy you are with the kids and how Gary wouldn’t want you working in a bar to help me out.”

  “You should sell it,” she pipes in with an enthusiastic, perky voice. “Gary would help you get it appraised, find a broker, then make sure you don’t get ripped off.”

  “I know. He’s amazing to offer to get me out from under it.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  I slowly pull in a calming breath. “Because I’m not ready to. I don’t know what I’d do without the bar to keep me busy. I’m still not over everything.”

  “Which thing? Dad dying or Dean cheating?”

  “Both.”

  Jade stifles what sounds like a sob. “I hate that you’re hurting, and I can’t fix it. Not about Dad or Dean. I’m angry, too, with them both for what they did to you.”

  That’s enough to make tears burn my eyes, and my makeup looked perfect this morning when I left the house. I struggle not to let the waterworks that sneak up on me too frequently run loose. “I know you are, honey.”

  “I would never see or speak to Dean again if it could be helped.”

  I make a fast left turn, relieved I’m less than twenty feet from my parking space. “I know. But I wouldn’t want you to take sides.”

  Another sniffled sob, louder. “There are no sides. You’re my sister. You’re my side.”

  I turn off the ignition and wait for the phone to switch over to hit the speaker button. “I know, Jade. You’re a great sister. We’re just stuck in a lousy situation.”

  “Then get unstuck,” Jade advises spiritedly. “I know a guy you should meet. He’s hot, and very nice. I could set up drinks later this week before the party. That way—”

  I halt in collecting my things from the passenger seat. “No, Jade. No blind dates. No fix ups. I don’t need you to find me a great guy. I can do it on my own. When I’m ready. I’ve already told you I’m not interest—”

  “But why?”

  My mouth moves faster than my brain. “Because I’m sort of starting to get interested in someone and I want to see where that goes.”

  She bursts out in giddy cackling, and I tense.

  Oh no, why did I say that?

  Wrong, Willow, wrong to lie to Jade. Now she’s going to be up in my business about my imaginary romance.

  Crud.

  I lean back in my seat and wait for the thousand questions to come my way.

  “Who is it? Is it that guy you’ve been flirting with? The one you bump into as you walk to the bar who’s all charming with you?”

  My eyebrows hitch up. I never expected Jade to remember my strategically vague info dump about the street musician who set up shop at my front door two months ago.

  Strategically vague, Willow? Ah, try ninety percent bullshit, scrubbed of all relevant facts except that he’s sweet and gorgeous. I left off that part about him also being homeless, probably dangerous, and likely with a criminal or mental disorder background.

  Definitely not Mr. Right material.

  I’m confident he doesn’t even qualify for Mr. Wrong status. With my history for picking lousy men, he should probably be on my too big of a mistake to dare list, even though he’s an exceptionally fine specimen of a man with dreamy blue eyes and a raspy voice that makes me melt…

  “Are you bringing him to the party?”

  “No, we’re not there yet!”

  “Why not? Get there. He sounds amazing. And you’ve been talking about him for weeks. Your voice glows whenever you mention him.”

  Glows? Can voices glow? Crud, I shouldn’t have told Jade about him. She’s probably halfway to starting a wedding registry at Nordstrom. Absolutely one of my less-thought-out moves to stop my sister from meddling in my love life.

  “I’m taking things slow these days, Jade.”

  “Then go slow. Invite him to coffee. Drinks or something. Then work into it that you need a date for a party and, there, it’s all fixed.”

  “But I don’t need a date for your party. You think I need a date. I’m perfectly fine going by myself.”

  “Hell no.” Her raised voice makes me jump. “You’ve been divorced for two years. It’s time to stop letting Dean think you carry a torch for him.”

  My body goes cold as my cheeks burn. “Is that what he thinks? Has he said that to Gary?”

  Jade growls, annoyed. “No. But he doesn’t have to. That’s how men’s minds work. You’re always alone at every function where Dean is. Men are vain and conceited. What’s he supposed to think?”

  “Well, not that. My not seeing anyone has nothing to do with him.”

  “Are you so sure about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Invite Mr. Flirty to coffee,” she wheedles, “and just see what happens.”

  “I don’t have time. Not even for coffee dates.” Agitated, I grab my purse and climb from the car. “I’m at the parking lot. I gotta get moving. Can I call you later?”

  “You’re annoyed with me again. I’m only trying to help.”

  “I’m not annoyed.” I snap the clicker so the car will beep. “Hear that? That’s me locking the car so I can start work.”

  “Yes, I heard it. And it was more like one of your Jade, butt out cues.”

  I pout. “I don’t want you to butt out. I want you to hang up and then bug me later. Does that sound all right to you, sis?”

  Jade’s melodic laughter fills my ear and I smile.

  “I’m not giving up until we both have everything we deserve and are nauseatingly happy. You know that.”

  Briskly walking toward my Java Hut on the corner, I roll my eyes. “Yes. That’s what I love about you. You never quit. Not even on me.”

  “What do you mean not even on you?” She’s emotional. “You’re wonderful. Too good for almost every man I know, and deserve nothing but the best.”

  Things are getting heavy between us again. I joke, “And instead I married Dean Tilman.”

  We both laugh.

  Good.

  “Think about having coffee with the flirty guy. I like how you sound when you talk about him. Like you did before Dean.”

  She’s not giving up. “Hanging up now. I love you, Jade.”

  “Love you, too.”

  After dropping my phone into my tote, I push the glass door and enter the Java Hut. Smiling at the morning regulars seated at the heavy wood tables and chairs—the retired group, the patrol officer coffee klatch from the local precinct, and assorted usual suspects—I fall in at the end of the short waiting line.

  From his spot beside the cash register, Boomer looks up from the order he’s taking and says, “Morning, Willow. The usual today?” Before I answer he turns to shout, “Matt, grab a large coffee, black, and an egg/sausage breakfast sandwich.”

  I frown at him. “Stop that. I can wait in line like everyone else. No special treatment, Boomer.”

  “I’ve known you since you were no higher than my knee. That makes you special here.” Somehow he says that while continuing to listen to the customer ordering and simultaneously hitting keys on the register. “Make sure you double cup tha
t coffee for Willow, Matt.”

  I shake my head at him, but I’m smiling. Even after six months of collecting his rent, it feels strange to be his landlord. Boomer lives in one the apartments above the bar, and was like a second dad, and in a lot of ways a much better dad than my own.

  No, Willow. Don’t think about that. Think of something else.

  Inside my head, I thumb through my ever-growing worry list. I need to get the bar making more money or I could lose the building. The loan payments aren’t massive or anything, but with what the bar makes I barely have anything left to cover my personal expenses.

  I’d hate to have to give up my small house and go back to living above a bar like I did as a child. No way do I want to do that.

  My brother-in-law is right. It’s time to box up Dad’s things, clean and paint his apartment, then rent it out. That would bring in a nice chunk of money every month to take off the heat financially until I can figure out how Dad made a profit on the bar…

  “What ya thinking, girly-girl?”

  I stop staring at the floor to find I’m at the front of the line and Boomer’s grinning at me. I step forward and make a face. “Don’t call me that. That nickname needs to fade away like my childhood did.”

  “You’ll always be girly-girl to me.” Boomer chortles.

  “But that doesn’t even make sense. I wasn’t girly. Jade was the one all pink dressed and makeup faced.”

  He smirks. “And yet you were prettier and the one more popular with the boys, as I remember.”

  “No, you’re not remembering correctly. It was and still is Jade who turns heads.” Then I make my dopey-happy face. “But I like being your favorite.”

  He taps his cheek and I obediently give him a kiss on his leathery, aged skin. I rummage in my purse for my wallet. “No, no,” he protests, waving off my attempt to pay him. “You don’t pay here. Not ever.”

  “You’re impossible. I don’t feel right not paying.”

  His bushy brows lower a tad as he stares at me intently. “Every small bit helps, Willow. Don’t be stubborn or proud like your father was. We’re all family on this block.”

  My insides warm almost as much as my cheeks do. Crap, does he know I’m only a handful of dollars from bankruptcy and that I’m terrible at running a business? Is it that obvious I’m in way over my head?