Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(127)

“Let’s go to the trouble tree,” I said as an idea hit me.

City glanced up, surprise in her eyes. “God, I haven’t been there since...”

I nodded. “Yeah, me neither.” It wouldn’t have felt right to go without her.

So, after she placed a bundle of flowers on our niece’s grave, we returned to her car and drove to the convenience store that had once been my home-place. From there, we hiked on foot through the trees that seemed as familiar as they were different.

“Wow, everything’s sure grown up in six years,” City mused.

She was right. The brush was thicker and harder to navigate, but I still knew the way. “Looks like this tree fell at some point,” I added as we stepped over a fallen trunk. “Probably taken down during some storm.”

Her fingers tightened on mine. “I hope our tree’s okay.”

I cast her a glance, and simultaneously, we picked up our pace. I almost missed her impractical shoes as she was capable of keeping up with me, but then I realized we’d grown up just as much as our woods had...and it wasn’t a bad thing.

“There,” I said, pointing as I spotted the familiar bark.

“Oh, thank God.”

City rushed to the trouble tree and found the spot where I’d carved a heart with our initials inside. She placed her palm on the scar and smiled fondly. “It’s still here.”

I placed my hand over hers. “Did you ever doubt it?”

She glanced up at me. “I might’ve worried for a while, tried to give up hope for a few years, but deep inside, I always knew. This wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Because you never truly gave up hope,” I said, glad she’d been the strong one at the end and fought for us, kept us together.

With a wistful sigh, she traced the heart with her finger. “God, we were so young.”

“Too young,” I agreed.

“But that didn’t seem to matter. Love doesn’t understand time. It doesn’t care if people change. It just grows where it grows.”

“And it bloomed inside us.” Slipping a hand into my jeans pocket, I pulled out a knife and flipped it open. “Here’s to a new us.”

Then I went about carving a larger heart around the original one.





The club was quiet when I entered. I usually showed up early before we opened on Saturdays to set up the karaoke system. But my feet were dragging today. Over the past few weeks, I’d come to dread karaoke night. Ever since I’d performed that idiotic song about watching some girl singing karaoke, a horde of women had flooded the stage every Saturday, butchering that very same piece, as if I’d automatically think their performance was better than hers had been.

I never did. She never came back. And I grew even moodier.

I blamed my coworkers entirely.

Every single f*cking one of my friends at the bar had paired off. Even the new guy Knox had snagged Felicity—the lucky bastard. It was messing with my head, making me write stupid songs about girls I didn’t even know and had only seen once across a crowded club.

It was jealousy. Plain and simple. I’d never been able to get what all the other guys had. Seemed like the only thing I could score were one-night stands, and honestly, that wasn’t really my thing.

Getting all up close and personal, sharing my most private business with a near stranger...yeah, just...why? I still partook when I was hard up, but I really didn’t see the appeal, didn’t get why some men thought it was such a grand lifestyle. It sucked ass if you wanted my opinion. With no idea how a one-night stand liked it best and with only one shot to do it right, sex was always like a roll of the dice. I either struck it lucky and left her happy or failed miserably. And sex was the only thing that ever happened with one-night stands, which just seemed empty and pointless.

One day, I wanted to know a woman inside and out, know what made her breath catch and her toes curl. I wanted to know what made her smile, or what pissed her off. I wanted to be able to just cuddle with her on a couch and eat popcorn while watching a movie together, talk music, argue which was the best band ever made, just hang out with a person I wanted to be with. I—ah hell. I wanted a girlfriend.

I was the freaking lead singer in a rock band and I wanted to be in a goddamn committed relationship.

I know, I needed to get my head checked.

“Hey, Hart.”

I jumped out of my skin at the call, not realizing anyone else was in the building. I hadn’t seen Pick’s car parked outside either.

“Step back in my office for a minute, will you?” he called, appearing in the opening of the back hall and motioning me forward.

Knots immediately formed in my stomach. Frozen to my spot on the stage, I watched him turn away and disappear down the hall.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I’d been avoiding Pick lately. I think he knew it and had respected my stance because he’d been letting me dodge him. So I was extra worried what this conversation was going to be about.

Regret clung to my lungs as I took a deep breath and then hopped off the stage. I never should’ve told him what I’d told him. But ever since the night Felicity had mentioned he’d been abandoned by his mother at the hospital when he was born, it had bugged me, gnawed at my conscience, evaded my every thought.

Because my mother had left a baby at the hospital after giving birth to it.