Bring It On Home Read online

  Bring It On Home

  A Misfit Inn Novel

  Kait Nolan

  Contents

  A Letter to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek Baby, It’s Cold Outside

  Sneak Peek To Get Me To You

  Other Books By Kait Nolan

  About Kait

  Bring It On Home

  Written and published by Kait Nolan

  Cover design by Lori Jackson

  Copyright 2019 Kait Nolan

  * * *

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  * * *

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following is a work of fiction. All people, places, and events are purely products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  A Letter to Readers

  Dear Reader,

  This book is set in the Deep South. As such, it contains a great deal of colorful, colloquial, and occasionally grammatically incorrect language. This is a deliberate choice on my part as an author to most accurately represent the region where I have lived my entire life. This book also contains swearing and pre-marital sex between the lead couple, as those things are part of the realistic lives of characters of this generation, and of many of my readers.

  If any of these things are not your cup of tea, please consider that you may not be the right audience for this book. There are scores of other books out there that are written with you in mind. In fact, I’ve got a list of some of my favorite authors who write on the sweeter side on my website at https://kaitnolan.com/on-the-sweeter-side/

  If you choose to stick with me, I hope you enjoy!

  Happy reading!

  Kait

  To the steadfast and true

  Chapter 1

  “In conclusion, I think we can all agree that Aponyx will be in good hands.”

  A single pair of hands began to applaud. “You nailed it.”

  Satisfied, Maggie Reynolds nodded at her audience of one, her administrative assistant Alyssa. “I think I did. Now let’s just hope the real presentation goes off without a hitch.”

  “You’re due in the conference room downstairs in—” Alyssa checked her watch. “—ten minutes.”

  “No time to lose.” She shoved up from the chair behind her desk and her stomach pitched as the room made a slow revolution.

  “You okay?”

  Fingers gripping the edge of the desk to keep from sinking right back into her chair, Maggie blinked and waited for the world to right itself. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just stood up too fast.”

  Alyssa looked askance in her direction. “Are you sure? Have you eaten today?”

  Had she? “I grabbed a pastry on my way into the office.” Or was that yesterday?

  “That was six hours ago.”

  Convinced her legs would hold her, Maggie began to gather up her presentation materials. “We’ll get a celebratory meal after the contracts are signed. Seriously. I’m fine. I just need another cup of coffee.”

  “Already on it.” Alyssa thrust a travel mug into her hand.

  “You are a goddess.” Even as Maggie sipped, she wondered if Blood Coffee Level was a thing. If so, hers was well over the legal limit. But it was the only way she’d been able to function the past few weeks. Okay, months, if she were being honest. She’d been working too hard because work kept her from thinking. That was par for the course and what she’d done for the past twelve years when September rolled around. A part of her was afraid of where her mind would go without the distraction of contracts and mergers and the endless minutiae of being right-hand to one of the most powerful women in the country.

  But this year had been worse than usual. Ever since her mother died in a car accident and she’d been pulled home to Tennessee to help her sisters deal with the estate and the aftermath, it had just been one thing after another. A lot more travel to settle things, a lot of legal stuff Maggie had been the natural choice to take on. A lot of reconnecting with her sisters. Which was good, so good. Mostly. But it was bringing up memories she’d done her best to forget.

  Instead of a few weeks of overwork distraction in September, she’d been at this for more than a year. She’d been doing double duty for somewhere around eighteen months, keeping herself too busy to be overwhelmed by things she’d rather not remember. She couldn’t deny it was taking a toll. Her body was drained, and all the caffeine had her pulse skittering so she felt simultaneously edgy and dull. Maybe she should take a little time. A long weekend to catch up on sleep. Maybe she’d find a spa up in Sonoma and get pampered.

  Later. After the anniversary.

  Palming the flash drive with her presentation, she moved around her desk. “Let’s do this. Do you have the copies of the contract?”

  “Right here. Sticky-tabbed, exactly as you wanted.”

  “Perfect. You’re a lifesaver.”

  Reviewing the details of the final pitch, they headed down the hall toward the elevator that would take them to the conference room on the forty-second floor. The merger with Aponyx was all but locked in. Its owner, Roman Lewis, just had to sign on the dotted line.

  Maggie’s phone began to vibrate. Seeing her sister Pru’s name flash across the screen, she stopped dead. The baby. Thirty-seven weeks. Her mind spun through all the prospective complications, everything that could go wrong. Preeclampsia. Preeclamptic seizure. Placental abruption. What if Pru had gone into pre-term labor? What if the umbilical cord had wrapped around the baby’s neck?

  A cold wave of fear swept over her skin, leaving a dewy sheen of sweat in its wake. “Let them know I’ll be there as soon as I can. I have to take this.” Peeling off, she strode back to her office, punching answer as she went. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you want to tell me why there’s a $700 stroller in my foyer?”

  Mind still trapped in the horror of what if, it took Maggie a few moments to register the tone of mild interest underscored with just a hint of exasperation. “I…what? Are you okay? Are you having contractions?”

  “I’m fine. The baby’s fine. I’m just trying to figure out why you sent me the Cadillac of baby strollers.”

  Reassured everything was okay, Maggie released a controlled breath and wrangled her emotions back in line. She couldn’t afford to be rattled for this meeting. “Because you’re going to need it in a few weeks.” Of course she would. Because her pregnancy had been textbook perfect so far. There was no reason to expect anything else. But that didn’t stop Maggie’s brain from reminding her of the possibilities. She knew better than many that textbook-perfect could turn into a nightmare in a heartbeat.

  “We already had a stroller.”

  “Yeah, but this one reclines to become an emergency bassinet. And it has a two-way facing toddler seat, an adjustable handle-bar, a temperature-regulating bamboo insert to keep the baby from getting too hot in the summer, and a massive, extendable canopy with UPF 50+ to protect the baby from sun. It’s very well-rated.” She’d researched every model on the market before settling on this one.

  “I’m sure it’s wonderful, but honey, it’s too much. You already gave us the Pack ’n Play, the BabyBjörn, a DiaperGenie, and enough clothes to clothe the kid until he or she is four. It is not on you to outfit us with every baby accessory known to man.”

  It was the only way Maggie could think of to make up for the fact that she’d been slowly pulling back as her sister’s pregnancy progressed. She hadn’t known it would be this hard, watching Pru and her besotted husband, Flynn, prepare for their new arrival. The baby had been a surprise—a good one. Everyone in the extended Reynolds family was beside themselves with excitement. Not at all how anyone had reacted when it had happened to her. There was no comparison to their situations, but still, Maggie had struggled with feelings she’d thought long buried. She’d sooner streak naked down Rodeo Drive than have Pru realize she was anything other than ecstatic about this baby.

  “Are you seriously going to rain on my doting-aunt-to-be parade?”

  In the beat of silence, she imagined Pru closing her eyes and praying for patience as she rubbed the mound of her belly. “No. And thank you for your generosity. But seriously, you have to stop. We’ve got absolutely everything we need. We don’t have room for anything else.”

  “I suppose I could return the cute little giraffe onesie.”

  “Giraffe?” Pru didn’t quite manage to hide the interest. She had a weakness for all things animal. The nursery had been done up in a Noah’s Ark theme and already held more stuffed animals than FAO Schwartz.

  “Mmhmm. It says ‘You bet giraffe I’m cute.’ But it’s still got tags on. I can take it back.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Laughing, Maggie felt the last of the tension dissolve. “I put it in the mail yesterday, along with a box of those bonbons you like.”

  Pru groaned. “I’m going to be big as a cow before this baby comes.”

  “Give them to Ari. I’m sure she’d be happy to take one for the team.” Her teenaged
niece had a major sweet tooth.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That’s the spirit. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a meeting to run. I’ll check in soon. Love to everybody.”

  “We love you back. Come for a visit when you can. I miss your face. We got used to seeing more of you over the past couple of years.”

  Maggie swallowed back against the lump in her throat because that, too, had been harder than she’d expected. There’d been a reason she’d run from Eden’s Ridge when she’d turned eighteen. She hadn’t been the only one, but at this point, even Athena, their youngest sister, the award-winning chef, had moved home. That left her the odd sister out, way out here on the West Coast.

  “I miss y’all, too. Talk to you later.”

  As soon as she hung up the phone, the warm glow she’d felt talking to her sister faded. Did Pru suspect she wasn’t being completely honest? Did she and the rest of the family realize that Maggie had been burying herself in work and sending endless baby gifts as an excuse not to be directly involved? She’d been in Los Angeles for five years, rocketing up the ranks at Invation. That had involved plenty of backbreaking work. She hoped they just thought she’d been making up for all the time she’d taken off to come home since Mom died. The alternative—that they’d look at her in pity and realize she wasn’t made out of titanium like she pretended—that was unthinkable.

  Shutting it away, she hurried down the hall toward the elevators. Halfway there she staggered, pressing a hand to the wall for support.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Did I pick up some kind of a bug?

  Vowing to take the rest of the day off as soon as the meeting was over, she straightened, squaring her shoulders and pinching her cheeks so she didn’t look as worn out and ill as she felt. Yeah, she shouldn’t have had that last cup of coffee.

  The conference room was full when she stepped inside, mask firmly in place.

  At the head of the table, Genevieve Kessinger, Maggie’s boss and head of Invation was deep in conversation with an older man whose silver-shot brown hair swept back from his face in thick waves. Roman Lewis had crinkles around his eyes and mouth that told her a smile was his default expression. Or maybe he spent a lot of time outdoors in the sun.

  “—sure you’re ready to hand over the reins?” Genevieve asked.

  “Definitely. Aponyx is no longer an infant company. It’s not even a toddler anymore. And that means it’s time to pass it on to someone who can grow it into something more robust and mature. My passion is in the development phase. Seeing innovation at the ground level and finding a way to make it a reality.”

  “You like incubation,” Maggie observed. All eyes turned to her. “So sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  “Gentlemen, you remember my number one, Margaret Reynolds.”

  Roman beamed. “Pleasure to see you again, Miss Reynolds. And you’re absolutely right. Aponyx is ready to leave the nest, and that means I can turn my attention to finding something new and different to invest in.

  “A worthy goal, certainly.”

  “I like to think so. Let me introduce you to the rest of my team.”

  Maggie shook hands, trying to match the names and positions she’d seen on paper for weeks with the faces in front of her, but each one seemed to flow into her brain and out again. She was maxed-out on information. Praying she didn’t mix anyone up, she moved with careful deliberation to plug her flash drive into the laptop hooked up to a projector. Obviously noting her unusually slow pace, Genevieve frowned, a question clear in her eyes.

  Maggie just shook her head and called up her PowerPoint. “We’re here today to go over the final details of the merger between Aponyx and Invation. You each have a copy of the latest contracts in front of you.”

  As she spoke, she thanked God for all the practice runs. It made it easy to slip into autopilot. Sweat broke out along her spine. The thermostat had to be set too high. Feeling her skin flush, she fought the urge to unbutton her suit jacket. The excessive heat was making the dizziness worse.

  Pausing so Genevieve could answer a question, Maggie edged over to the water service that had been set up on the credenza. She’d just pour herself a glass. Her throat was so parched.

  The hand that curled around the handle of the pitcher shook and the edges of the glass began to blur.

  Dehydrated. I must be dehydrated.

  Fighting for control, she lifted the pitcher, sloshing water as she tried to pour. The pitcher clattered against the rim.

  “Margaret?”

  She tried to turn, to speak, but the moment she shifted, the room tilted. She was dimly aware of someone shooting up from their chair before everything slid into blackness.

  “You ready for this?” Porter Ingram studied the woman across the desk, taking in that oh-so-familiar face―the straight, dark hair and big brown eyes, and that crook at the corner of her mouth, always ready to twitch into a full smile. A smile that was about to be a part of his future.

  “To hitch my wagon to yours? Bring it on.”

  He shoved the paperwork over and handed her a pen, watching as she scrawled her name―Mia Whitmore―on all the relevant lines. When she finished, she beamed a smile at him. “That’s it then. It’s official.”

  Porter grinned back. “Welcome aboard―partner.”

  He considered himself a lucky man. The business he’d built from the ground up had gotten big enough, successful enough, that he both needed and could afford to take on a partner. And he’d found a good one in the woman he’d worked side-by-side with on a series of restoration projects down in Gatlinburg. They’d kept in touch after, and when she’d expressed a desire to make a change and relocate, he’d invited her up to Eden’s Ridge for a job. She’d loved the town, the people, so before they’d gotten more than halfway through the second phase expansion at The Misfit Inn Spa, he’d asked if she’d be interested in making it permanent. A few of her crew had decided to make the transition as well, and Mountainview Construction had officially expanded as a family.

  “This calls for a celebration,” Mia declared.

  “Drinks and pizza at Elvira’s?” Not that there was really anywhere else to celebrate in their town of less than three thousand people, unless you wanted pie at the diner.

  “Meet you there.”

  Ten minutes later, he strode into the controlled chaos of Elvira’s on a Friday night. Bodies were packed on the tiny dance floor, kicking and stomping to some upbeat country song, and the space around the bar was three patrons deep in places. That he didn’t recognize a fair chunk of them was proof that the tourism push was doing some good. Behind the bar, Denver Hershal worked the taps, a towel draped over one shoulder and the sleeves of his henley shoved up to his elbows. Business was booming, but the furrow between his brows was sign enough that he was frazzled.

  Porter made his way through the crowd, until he’d managed to belly up to the bar and catch Denver’s eye. “Y’all are jumpin’ tonight.”

  “Kennedy picked a helluva time to leave me to go work full-time at the inn.”

  Kennedy Reynolds―Kincaid now―had been a fixture at Elvira’s since she’d returned to Eden’s Ridge eighteen months before. With her eldest sister in an advanced state of pregnancy, she’d finally called it quits on her second job in favor of taking over more duties at their family business, The Misfit Inn and Spa.

  “Pru’s only a few weeks from popping. Doctor’s orders that she cut back.”

  “I know, I know,” Denver grumbled. “Doesn’t mean I have to like losing my best bartender. What’ll it be?”

  He’d beaten Mia here, but given how busy the place was, Porter figured she’d forgive him for ordering for her. “Two of the IPA you’ve got on tap.”

  “You got it.”