A Guide to Being Just Friends(48)

“What do you mean?” Tara leaned in but Hailey still hadn’t said a word.

“We want to purchase some property in the square so I’ve been researching it. Your bank of shops is owned by the same person. It’s the most profitable strip on the square. If he’s raising your rent that much, he’s making a power play. He either wants the renters out so he can do something different or he’s in trouble and needs an influx of cash.”

Wes opened his computer again. “Who is this guy?” He didn’t want to be stuck on the fact that Hailey hadn’t said a word to him.

Fiona joined them, iced tea in hand. “What guy?”

“The rent-raising bastard,” Tara said.

Looking at Hailey, she smiled. “Good. You told him.”

Wes stopped typing, looked at Hailey. “No. She didn’t. Tara did.”

Hailey gave him a sassy look. “What? I don’t report to you, mister.”

“Now isn’t the time to be funny. You just took on Leo. Are you even okay with the increase?”

Her amusement fled, her lips flattening even as heat lit her gaze. “I’m perfectly okay handling my own business. I’m working with the merchants just like Tara. We talked about this, Mr. Fix It.”

She stood up to move past him, brushing her legs against his knees.

Fiona sat down next to Tara. “She’s a bit touchy about her independence.”

“‘Stubborn’ is a better word,” Wes said, hurt that Hailey hadn’t told him.

Fiona sighed. “You guys should know better than anyone what it’s like to step away from all the support beams and stand on your own.”

She wasn’t wrong but that didn’t douse the fire inside of him, the need to do what he could. Maybe he understood his brothers’ earlier stance better than he thought. What would he give to protect Hailey? And she was only his friend. He looked at Tara. “What’s his name?”

“Logan Vanderben. Owns that row of shops and three high-rises downtown,” Noah said.

Wes typed in the name. He could be inside the guy’s hard drive if he wanted to be but stuck to a regular Google search. Vanderben looked like a pompous ass. He reminded Wes of a younger version of their father.

“We are planning to contest it, Wes. I think Hailey is trying not to worry.” Tara gave him a tight smile.

“Most food businesses go bust in the first year,” Wes said.

“Thank you for your optimistic outlook, Mary Poppins,” Hailey said from over his shoulder. He looked to where she was leaning on the doorjamb.

“Hailey. That’s not what I meant,” he said. He hated the look of hurt that crossed her expression.

“Yes it is. And you’re right. But that doesn’t mean mine will be one of them.”

“Of course it won’t,” he said, feeling both in the spotlight and like they were in their own bubble.

“Because I’ll work my ass off to make it thrive.” Her tone was strong but her gaze was vulnerable. Soft. Sad. He really hated that.

Closing his computer, he set it aside. “I know you will. You have an incredible work ethic. But there are things we can look into to prevent—”

She held up a hand. “If you want to do something that is in your best interests because you and your brothers were already looking into property there, do that. Do whatever it is you all do. But don’t do it for me. I do not need to be saved by anyone. I’m not in this alone.”

She took a deep breath, let it out. “Tilly said dinner is ready.” She turned on her heel and walked in. Wes waited until the others had gone inside, giving himself an extra minute.

She said she wasn’t in this alone, but in no way did she mean she’d lean on him. Why the hell did that bother him so much?





20


No one seemed to mind that she chose a walk on the beach after dinner rather than the football game. It was lovely to have a big group of people who were comfortable with each other. A family of their own choosing for some of them. She was worried about how much she enjoyed being part of it.

Hailey had craved finding her own place so badly that relationship after relationship ended with her feeling more lost. With Dorian, he’d let her into a world that fascinated her, let her believe he felt all of the things she did, that they were building a future together, and then he snatched it away. Told her it meant nothing.

Not to her. It meant a hell of a lot to her, and even though she could feel the difference between Dorian and these people, her heart was still hesitant. And healing.

When she returned to the house, most of the group was eating pie by the firepit in the yard. Wes was on the porch chatting with Morty, who was telling a tall tale of the Thanksgiving he’d caught his own turkey.

Wes’s smile settled some of the unrest inside of her, sending her thoughts in a different direction. She was definitely attached on that front. If they hadn’t agreed to friendship, she’d be worried about her heart. Without the boundaries, he was a man she could fall far and fast for. It was equal parts irritating and sweet that he wanted to fix things for her. The others, too, were ready to rally and come to her defense. She’d learned the hard way, more than once, that standing on her own was essential. So was falling on her own. She wanted to be her own landing.

“The bastard nips me right here,” Morty said, spreading his index and middle fingers apart to show a rough patch of skin. It definitely looked like a scar but whether or not it was really from a turkey, she couldn’t say.