Come a Little Closer: Men of the Misfit Inn Book 4

  Come a Little Closer

  Men of the Misfit Inn Book 4

  Kait Nolan

  Copyright © 2021 by Kait Nolan

  Cover Design by Najla Qamber.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Invite

  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

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek Second Chance Summer

  Sneak Peek When You Got A Good Thing

  Other Books By Kait Nolan

  About Kait

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  A Letter to Readers

  Dear Reader,

  Before I get to my usual warning, I want to ask if you knew that this isn’t where Sam and Griff’s story starts? They have a prequel novella, Until We Meet Again, that tells their backstory. It’s set eight years before this book. You can read the novel without it, but by then end I promise you’ll want to go back, so why not start there?

  This book features characters from 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

  Chapter 1

  “Why did I agree to this wedding?” Samantha Ferguson scowled at the familiar stretch of tree-lined mountain road she could drive in her sleep. “I hate weddings.”

  From the car speakers, Audrey Graham’s voice was dry. “I hope you don’t, since you agreed to be in mine.”

  She’d done so without a qualm, delighted that one of her best friends had found love with an amazing man. Watching the two of them fall for each other at a grown-up summer camp last year had been an absolute joy, even if it had given her a bit of a pinch around her own heart.

  “You and Hudson aren’t the same.”

  “And why is that?”

  “For one, I’m not going to know the entire wedding party, and the entire wedding party is not going to have a whole boatload of stories about me that I’d rather forget. With Erin, there’s this whole getting-the-band-back-together vibe. I haven’t seen a lot of these people at all since high school and college, and we weren’t exactly all buddy-buddy to begin with. It was one of those situations where she and I were friends, and I was tangentially associated with the rest of them.”

  How often had that been the case over the years? Her circles had always been small, which never bothered her until ceremony and celebration called for her to play nice with others. There was nothing like being thrust into a larger group to make her feel like an outsider.

  “Is it really the whole idea of having to deal with people from high school that has you in a dither? You’re not normally this agitated about the idea of going home.”

  Sam blew out a breath, unable to muster any annoyance at her friend for putting on her therapist’s hat. “I hated high school. You know that. It wasn’t me. I didn’t fit in, and I spent so much time and effort working to get myself away from all of that. I’m afraid that coming back for this wedding party bonding weekend crap is just gonna involve a whole lot of me getting forced back into roles that I don’t want to remember.” Just the idea of it had her shoulders bunching and her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

  “Can they really force you back without your permission?”

  With a fresh scowl, Sam took the turn onto Main Street, automatically slowing as she rolled into what constituted downtown Eden’s Ridge. “I think I liked it better when you weren’t pursuing the shrinky side of your training, Dr. Graham. It’s not so simple as permission. Obviously, there’s a conscious element to all this. But the bride and groom were a thing in high school, and I’m pretty sure they have much fonder memories of that experience than I do, and are probably going to be playing that up, now that they’ve found each other again. Oh, and then there’s the fact that my high school nemesis is the matron of honor.”

  “You had a high school nemesis?” Audrey’s tone piqued with interest, and Sam knew she was turning the idea of it over in her head. A certified prodigy, Audrey had graduated at fifteen, so she hadn’t had most of the normal high school experiences.

  “Cressida Gilcrest. Well, Milton now. She was a total Regina George. Except she never actually got her comeuppance and never became a better human. She’s Erin’s cousin, which is the only reason she’s a part of this. Family pressure.”

  “Uh huh. And facing her down means what, exactly?”

  “Having my always-a-bridesmaid status thrown in my face.” Among other things.

  “What does that matter? You’ve never defined yourself by your relationship status.”

  Sam’s back twitched, the tattoo on her shoulder seeming to burn. It and the memories it evoked were old, but the wound still throbbed. That was the real reason this weekend had her out of sorts. But she didn’t confess that truth to Audrey. She’d never confessed it to anyone.

  “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

  “I usually am.”

  “Har har.”

  Audrey laughed. “It’s three days. You can handle it. There are worse things in the world than spending a long weekend at a spa.”

  “If this was all massages, facials, and pedicures, I’d be a lot less anxious about it.” Seeing an open parking spot along the curb a block down from her mom’s shop, Sam whipped into it.

  “Well, put on your big girl panties because there’s nothing to do about it but get through it. Didn’t you tell me your bestie from high school was a bridesmaid, too?”

  At the reminder, Sam’s mind turned away from the hurt. “She is, thank God. Jill’s been in Atlanta for many years now, trying to get a music career off the ground while working other jobs to pay the bills, and I’ve been on the publish or perish train, so it’s been ages since we’ve actually connected. She’s the lone silver lining of the weekend. We’ll be able to bemoan our mutual single status together among all the marrieds.”

  “There you go. Focus on that and forget the rest.”

  “Right.” The long exhale only released a little of the tension. She needed a change of subject before her too-observant friend started digging into more of the whys behind this anxiety. “In other news, h
ow is my brother? I mean, I know you can’t give me specifics because of the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing, but generally how is he doing? He’s been all incommunicado since he got up to Syracuse to start your program.”

  “He’s good. He baked a chocolate tart this week that almost made me weep.”

  “I can’t get over the fact that you’re teaching my brother to be a baker.” After more than a decade as a Navy SEAL, Jonah was finally out and working through his transition to civilian life in Audrey’s experimental treatment program.

  “Well, let’s be accurate. My future husband’s cousin, Rachel, is the one who’s doing the teaching. Overall, the program is performing well above my expectations. Who would have thought that this would be an excellent treatment modality for PTSD, depression, and anxiety in a bunch of hardcore former military guys?”

  “You did. And that’s why you’re the certified genius.”

  “Fair point. Now quit procrastinating and go get this over with. You’ll feel better when it’s done.”

  Busted. “Okay, okay, I know you’re right, I’m gonna go. Do me a favor and tell Jonah to call home. I want to hear his voice and check in with him. Mom will definitely want the same.”

  “I’ll let him know. Now, I want you to remember that I’m a professional, so hear me when I say this: You are a badass, intelligent, beautiful adult woman. Whatever shades of high school rear their ugly heads this weekend, you are not that person anymore, and nobody can make you be. Talk to you on the other side. I love you, girl.”

  Though Audrey couldn’t see, Sam smiled. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

  Hanging up the phone, she slid out of the car and into the cool October weather. Happy-faced pansies in concrete planters bobbed in the breeze as she made the short trek down the street to the salon known locally by all and sundry as the Snort ’n Curl, so dubbed because her mother, a former Miss Tennessee finalist, believed in big hair and big laughs. Her clients could count on both. That big, bawdy laugh rolled out the moment Sam tugged open the door, along with the chatter of cheerful female conversation.

  The familiar scents of shampoo and the vaguely chemical undertone of hair dye and bleach drew her inside, back into her childhood. So much of her time growing up had been spent helping out in the shop, shampooing, sweeping up, doing homework. Snared in the past, she didn’t immediately speak up. Here was comfort, camaraderie. Here was home, as much as the little three-bedroom she’d once shared just a mile-and-a-half up the road.

  From beneath one of the bonnet dryers, Jolene Lowrey looked up. “Why, Samantha!”

  Conversation came to a stop like the screech of a record.

  Sam worked up a polite smile. “Mrs. Lowrey. Good to see you.”

  Rebecca set her comb and shears aside and rushed over, arms open wide. “Hey, baby girl!”

  As those arms closed around her, another few layers of tension dropped away. “Hey, Mama.” Sam burrowed in, briefly resting her head against her mother’s shoulder as she wrestled with the guilt of not coming home as often as she should.

  “It’s so good to see you.” Rebecca pulled back, looked her over with assessing eyes the same shape as Sam’s. “You look a mite tired, honey.”

  Sam’s lips twitched. “Good thing I’m here for a spa weekend, then.”

  “Girls’ trip?”

  She glanced over at the woman in the chair for a cut, recognizing Essie Vaughn, the dispatcher and admin for the Sheriff’s Department. “Not exactly. I’m in town for a bachelor/bachelorette party bonding sort of deal for Erin Ashby and Kendrick Teague. Their wedding’s coming up next month, so they’re getting everybody together at The Misfit Inn and Spa for the weekend.”

  From the chair at the other station, Patty Hodgson tapped her lips. “Why do I remember his name?”

  “He was star quarterback when I was in high school,” Sam supplied.

  “Oh yes, remember?” Essie prompted. “He got scouted by UT. Went pro for a few years.”

  Rebecca returned to her station and resumed combing out and cutting Essie’s hair. “Married some girl from out in California, I thought.”

  Essie nodded. “He did. She divorced him when he blew out his knee and lost his career.”

  “What about the Ashby girl?” Candice French continued to place rollers in Patty’s hair. “I thought she married Galen Banks.”

  With an expression that was part pity, part superiority that she wasn’t as out of the loop as her stylist, Patty closed the magazine on her lap and crossed her legs. “She did. Moved off to Memphis, I think. They got divorced, too.”

  Amused at the play-by-play, Sam couldn’t help clarifying. “They were high school sweethearts. Both of them came back to the Ridge to work at the high school. They reconnected and fell back in love. It’s pretty adorable, really.” Even from her jaded perspective, she had to admit that. Love did come back around for some people.

  “So lovely that they found their way back to each other.” Essie sighed with the kind of contentment she’d often been known to display after finishing a good romance novel. Perking up, her eyes flicked to Sam’s in the mirror. “What about you, dear? When are you going to walk down the aisle? Is there anybody special?”

  The question was uttered in a cheerfully nosy tone that had Sam struggling not to grit her teeth. Because there wasn’t anyone special. There hadn’t been in more years than she cared to admit, and that trod far too close to the real reason weddings made her bitter. Because everyone pitied her for her perpetually single status, and no one knew she’d married and divorced at twenty-two. Then again, a marriage that lasted hardly longer than it took for the ink to dry didn’t really count, did it?

  Usually, she managed to shove that negativity down. But Kendrick had been a close friend and foster brother to Griff, and she didn’t want all those memories stirred back up. At least her ex-husband was still in the Marines, still off God knew where, doing God knew what. She hoped he was safe, then cursed herself. Griffin Powell was no longer hers to worry about. He’d made his choice years ago, and it hadn’t been her.

  With no intention of sharing one of the most painful parts of her past, Sam forced another smile and focused on her mother. “I just spoke to Audrey on the way here. She said Jonah’s doing well and promised to make sure he calls home.”

  Rebecca nodded in satisfaction. “Oh good. I’ve been sending care packages, but the boy hasn’t done more than send a few emails since he got up there.”

  “Where is he these days?” Patty asked.

  “Upstate New York, in a program to help him transition from the SEALs to civilian life. He’s training to be a master baker,” Rebecca explained.

  As conversation turned to the safer topic of her brother, Sam backed toward the door. “I need to be getting on. They’re expecting me up at the inn. I just wanted to stop in and say hello.”

  “You’re sure you won’t stay at the house?” Rebecca asked.

  “That would defeat the purpose of all of Erin’s planned bonding activities. But I promise to stop by again before I head out. Love you, Mama.”

  “Love you, too, baby.”

  Check-in and farewells completed, she made a hasty exit, wishing the rest of the weekend would pass as quickly.

  Griffin Powell was a man who understood duty. Twelve years in the Marines had seen to that. He made only those promises he believed he could keep, and he’d promised Kendrick he’d be here for this bizarre excuse for a bachelor party, even though he’d rather run fifteen miles uphill with a hundred pounds of gear strapped to his back. Because Kendrick was his brother, and that’s what brothers did. It wasn’t Kendrick’s fault that coming home felt so complicated, or that weddings in general left Griff feeling edgy and restless.

  No, that was entirely his own fault because of promises made and broken to a woman he’d never gotten out of his mind. A woman it was past time he sought out again. Griff was man enough to admit he was afraid of the reception he’d get. Afraid, too, of finding out she’d
moved on with her life, as he’d freed her to do so many years ago. It had been the right thing for them both. He’d clung to that. Had to, or he’d never have been able to walk away. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t bled. Samantha had been his greatest love, and he wasn’t ready to give up hope that he could still win her back.

  Maybe he’d use this weekend to do a little digging. Find out where she was. If anyone knew whether she’d married. The idea tied his gut in knots. She and Erin had been friends once. Surely someone knew. With all the inevitable walking down memory lane, Sam would probably get mentioned without him having to say a word. He’d just have to bide his time and listen. He’d gotten good at that.

  As he pulled up to the three-story Victorian that had been his home for the last three years of high school, Griff was grateful it wasn’t his first trip back. The awkward had already been broached with his sisters earlier this year when he’d come as bodyguard to Kyle Keenan, and Kyle had been the prodigal in that scenario. Another foster brother, Kyle had become a rampant success as a country music star and finally come home to fix things with the woman who’d been his childhood best friend turned enemy. As Abbey was now his wife and they were expecting their first child, that had all turned out all right in the end. Griff could only pray for such an outcome for himself.

  Shaking off the somber mood, he dug up a smile and jogged up the steps, slipping through the front door. It still felt right and comfortable to do that, though the home where he’d grown up had been turned into an inn. A part of him still expected his foster mother, Joan Reynolds, to come out of the kitchen, arms open wide for a hug. She’d been gone more than three years now, but he still felt the pang at her loss. At least until his sister, Kennedy, stepped out of the kitchen herself.