Her Homecoming Wish

“Are your fifteen minutes up yet?” She gestured toward his glass. “I doubt your boss is wandering the streets to check up on you...”

Dan held his wide-brimmed hat in one hand and ran the other through his sandy brown hair. He stared at her like he’d just stumbled across a unicorn.

“It’s not about getting caught, Mackie. It’s about being responsible. If I get a call in the next few minutes, I need to be ready.” Well, wasn’t he a good little scout? He looked around the store. “How’s your dad?”

“Tired and grumpy, but on the mend. You’re really going to count down to your quitting time before you drink? The Danny Adams I knew would have crawled over broken glass to get to alcohol.”

A weird shadow crossed over his face before he leveled a pointed hazel-eyed gaze at her. This was clearly his stern law enforcement officer face. “One—I’m not the Danny Adams you knew. High school was over twenty years ago. Two—don’t call me Danny. Ever. Three—I’m a sheriff’s deputy, and I take my job seriously. I’d like to keep it. Of course I’m not going to drink on duty.”

She leveled a gaze right back at him, but her fingernails were tapping rapidly on the counter. She’d known Dan since she was in grade school. Hell, she’d crushed on him back when his hair was long and shaggy and his attitude had been pure bad boy. But he’d never stopped being Danny, the kid who’d roughed her hair and thrown popcorn at her during movie nights. Cop face or not, he wasn’t going to intimidate her now. She took a long, slow sip of scotch. “Tell you what—I’ll try not to call you Danny if you’ll promise not to remind me how long ago we met.”

He nodded, his mouth sliding into a half grin. Some of the tension left his stance, and she realized her own fingers had stopped their nervous tapping. The adrenaline rush of their violent encounter was fading for both of them. Dan walked toward the counter, his eye on the very expensive scotch. He glanced at his watch, then up at her.

“It really has been a long damn time since we first met, Mack. A lifetime ago. You were just a kid.”

“So were you. And you just failed your promise... Danny.” He rolled his eyes, reminding her again of that high school kid he’d been. He and Ryan met in freshman detention and became fast friends. Mack was in...she paused to think. “Oh, my God, I was in fifth grade when you and Ryan became partners in crime. How is that even possible?”

Dan propped his hip against the counter across from her. Now that they were closer and the lights were on, she could see the deep lines next to his eyes. As if he’d seen a lot of sun. Or a lot of trouble. He was looking at the counter, but she had a feeling he was a million miles away.

“Are you okay?”

His head rose sharply at the question. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You look tired or stressed or something.”

Dan grunted in response. “Or something.” He looked at his watch, closed his eyes briefly, then reached for the glass of amber liquid. He downed it in one gulp, then gave a loud sigh of satisfaction. “Not my usual end-of-shift choice, but you can never go wrong with Macallan.” She held up the bottle to pour a refill, but he shook his head. “I may be off shift, but I’m in uniform.”

With a start, she realized she had no idea what kind of life Dan Adams lived these days. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that might be an in-uniform thing. The guy had to be almost forty, so he probably had a wife and family. She took in his intense composure, his square jaw, broad shoulders and calm—if tired—eyes. Yes, this looked like a man with a Sunday school teacher of a wife, a couple kids and probably a dog, too. She couldn’t help thinking that was a damn shame. She splashed more scotch in her own glass and lifted it in a mock toast.

“I don’t have that problem, since all I have to do is crawl up the stairs. Did you settle down with anyone I know?”

He lowered his brow. “Settle down? Oh, you mean family? I married Susanne Buckley. You might have known her—she was between our grades, a couple years behind me. Cheerleader. Class president. Homecoming queen.”

Mack started to laugh. “You landed a homecoming queen? With your reputation? How did her parents let that happen?” She had a vague memory of Susanne—cute, perky and popular. No match for Danger Dan.

That odd shadow crossed his face again. He didn’t seem to like being reminded of his teen adventures. “We didn’t get together until after college, so her parents couldn’t do anything about it.” His voice dropped so low she barely heard him. “But it didn’t stop them from trying.”

Silence fell in the store again. Her long day started to catch up with her, and she couldn’t stifle the yawn that came out of nowhere. Dan straightened with a smile.

“It’s late...or should I say early? Between our little adventure and the booze you’ve had, I’m guessing you’ll get to sleep now.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “It wasn’t a gun, by the way.”

“What?”

“You asked me before if you felt a gun to your head. It was my baton. Cops don’t make a habit of blowing people’s heads off for burglary.”

She considered that for a moment before nodding solemnly. “Good to know. But that was a baseball bat I was swinging.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when sweet little Mackie would try to take me out with her daddy’s bat.”

“I’m done being sweet little Mackie, Dan. Being sweet got me nowhere.”

The truth was, she hadn’t ever been sweet. She’d acted the part, but only as a means to an end—to make other people think better of her. Being that calculated couldn’t really be sweet, could it? It certainly hadn’t made her a lot of friends. And it didn’t help her hold on to a husband.

Dan studied her, and she had a feeling he was trying to put together a profile, cop-style. Trying to figure her out. Good luck with that. His slanted smile returned. “It got you back to Gallant Lake, helping your dad. That’s exactly what I’d expect from the sweet little Mackie I knew.”

She grimaced. It wasn’t like she’d had anywhere else to go. Mason had kept both the house and the condo in the divorce. She hadn’t had the stomach to fight him. She’d taken the cash and left. She lifted her chin. “I’m turning over a new leaf. One that doesn’t include ‘little.’” She gestured down to her well-rounded figure. “And especially doesn’t include ‘sweet.’”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side with a skeptical grin. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever you say. Get some sleep, and don’t forget to lock up after I go. In fact...” He picked her phone up from the counter and handed it to her. “Unlock it.” She followed his order without question, not realizing she’d done so until he was taking the phone back from her and started tapping. “Here’s my number. Text me when you’re locked in upstairs.”

“Yes, sir. Officer, sir.” She gave him a mock salute, realizing the scotch might just be kicking in. “Say hi to Susanne for me.”

He’d started walking away but hesitated on that last line. He gave a quick shake of his head, then kept on going. The back door gave its usual groan as he left. It wasn’t until then that Mack noticed the atmosphere change. Dan seemed low-key, but his presence had still brought a definite energy to the place. Energy that evaporated as soon as he left. She thought about that for a minute, then dismissed it as nothing more than her adrenaline letdown from being shoved hard up against the wall by a guy she’d once known as a pimple-faced kid. She closed up the store and headed back upstairs.

She shoved the still-annoyed cat off her bed pillow and crawled under the covers after sending a quick text that all was well. Mack had a hunch her dreams were going to be filled with golden-green eyes that had more of a story to tell than just “I’m not that Danny anymore.” And damned if she didn’t want to know more about it.

“So let me get this straight.” Asher Peyton turned away from the dresser he’d been building and sat on the bench next to Dan. His best friend looked puzzled. “You knew Carl’s daughter when she was a kid? And you accosted her last night in Carl’s store?” Asher chuckled, rubbing the dark beard he was sporting these days. “Good luck getting any more first-responder discounts from Carl, man.”

“I hope to God she doesn’t tell him.” Dan took a swig of the cola Asher had given him. He was on duty soon, so he’d had to turn down the beer he’d been offered. Asher always had a supply of both on hand for him. “But I didn’t accost her. There was a person with a flashlight in Carl’s store in the middle of the night. I apprehended her, at best.” Sure, he’d been rough with her, but damn. He gave Asher a pointed look. “And let’s not forget that baseball bat she swung at my head.”

“Yeah, that would have hurt. Makes total sense you’d have a drink with her after.”

Dan didn’t respond. Mainly because he couldn’t explain it. He’d seen Mack a few times since high school, but not up close and personal like last night. Probably the closest they’d been as adults was when he shook her hand at her mom’s funeral years ago, but she’d been a shell-shocked college freshman with hollow eyes that day. She probably didn’t even remember him being there. Once in a while he’d seen her in the liquor store, visiting with her dad. But Dan had never stopped by. Why would he? He was part of the reason her family—the family that for years had felt like it was his—had spiraled into tragedy. He’d supplied the alcohol the night Ryan and Braden crashed, and Braden had died. It was just dumb luck that Dan hadn’t been in the car with them.

“Hello? Earth to Dan?” Asher’s voice broke into his thoughts, almost making him flinch. But Dan had learned long ago not to show that kind of reaction to anyone around him. Calm and steady was the lawman’s mantra. Never let them see you blink. He held in a steadying breath, then released it slowly, grinning at Asher.

“Sorry, man. My little run-in with Mack aside, last night was a hell of a shift. Stupid kids drag racing out on Hilton Road. And another damn overdose. It took two doses of Narcan to bring the guy back.” The nasal spray superdrug made him feel like some kind of god, bringing the dead back to life. But there was something about the look in the person’s eyes when the Narcan kicked in and jolted them back to planet Earth. They’d taken the opioids to escape, and here they were, waking up to flashing lights and yelling voices and all the chaos they’d been trying to get away from. In last night’s case, Kyle Alderwood had OD’d in his car, sitting in his parents’ driveway in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. His mom, Barb, was screaming and crying in a panic in the front yard while neighbors tried to comfort her. What a scene. He’d felt everyone’s eyes on him. This scourge had come to Gallant Lake under his watch.

“He made it?” Asher asked. Dan nodded, staring into his glass and wishing it was something other than soda.

“How many overdoses does that make in the last month or so?” Asher looked up as a customer walked in.

“Too many.” Dan answered. “Too damn many.” He needed to figure out who was distributing opioids laced with Fentanyl in Gallant Lake, and why they’d picked his quiet little town, but he hadn’t managed it yet. The stuff was everywhere all of a sudden, but the path back to the suppliers was a cleverly knotted mess he hadn’t been able to unravel. He just had to hope the new interdepartmental task force would figure it out. Soon.

Asher spoke with the woman who’d come in to check on a sideboard she’d ordered the previous week. He explained that the curly maple she’d requested hadn’t even arrived yet. And there were three orders for his custom-built furniture ahead of hers. But he promised her she’d have it in time for her daughter’s wedding shower in two months. Reassured, the woman left. Asher stood at the café table he used as a checkout counter, looking out the window at downtown Gallant Lake.

“Does Carl’s daughter have lots of blond hair? And a bang-out figure?”

Dan stood, scowling at his friend. “Maybe. Why?”

“I think she just bought out the sports section at Nate’s hardware store. She must be into hiking and stuff, huh? Like you?”

Dan ignored the speculative look Asher gave him. Ever since Asher married Nora Lowery, he’d turned into Cupid, trying to help Dan’s nonexistent love life. But Dan had two strikes against him with the ladies. He was a cop, with all the stress and weird hours that entailed. And he was a single dad.

He walked toward the window. “Can’t be Mack if she’s buying hiking equipment. She never did anything that might get her nails dirt—” His voice trailed off. Because hell if that wasn’t Mackenzie talking to Nate Thomas on the sidewalk outside Nate’s store. She was holding hiking poles under one arm, with a biking helmet dangling from her fingers. Her other hand was holding a... Was that a kayak paddle?

“So that isn’t your girl?” Asher asked.

Dan pressed his lips together. “You’ve been watching too many of those mushy movies with Nora on the romance channel.” He looked back out the window. “No one is ‘my girl.’ But yeah, that’s Mack.”

There was no mistaking her figure, full and curvy. And that thick mane of blond hair, pulled back into a ponytail instead of being carefully styled as usual. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Back in the day, Mack always looked like she was ready for tea with the queen, no matter what she was doing. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her in denim. Not even in high school. Dan stiffened at the sight of Nate’s hand on her shoulder as they laughed about something together.

Naturally, Asher picked up on his body language. “Nate’s quite a catch, you know. Maybe not the most exciting guy in town, but he’s steady and reliable and single...”

“I don’t see a hardware store owner as Mack’s type.”

Asher’s shoulder rose. “You didn’t see her as an adventurer, either, but it looks like she’s ready for hiking, biking and kayaking all in one shopping trip. Either Nate’s more of a master salesman than I gave him credit for, or you don’t know Mackenzie Wallace as much as you think you do.”

Mack turned and walked across the street toward the liquor store, loaded down with shopping bags and supplies. “I knew her as a skinny, stuck-up kid who liked to follow her brother and me around and lecture us like she was our grandmother. But somewhere in the last twenty years, she’s clearly blossomed.”

Asher scoffed as they walked to the back of the shop again. “Blossomed, huh? Now who’s been watching girlie movies? And FYI—you can laugh at that romance channel all you want, but they have some pretty deep stuff, and it puts Nora in the cuddling mood, which suits me just fine.” He held his hands up at Dan’s expression. “Okay, I’m dropping the subject. How’s Chloe doing with school?”

Dan took a sip of soda and smiled. His daughter was a topic he was always happy to discuss. He told Asher how the eight-year-old was acing her grades. Her teacher, Sarah Conway, regularly sent emails saying what a delight Chloe was to have in her class.

Now that he thought about it, Chloe was a little like a young Mack—always eager to please and striving to be the best at everything. The only difference was Chloe was a tomboy through and through and had the scrapes and bruises to show for it. Just this week, she’d tried to slide down the banister in his renovated Victorian house and nearly broke her arm when she tumbled off halfway to the ground floor. His ex-wife, Susanne, had a fit when she saw Chloe’s puffy wrist, but the doctor confirmed it was just a minor sprain.

Asher finished his lunch and moved to the unfinished dresser on the work table, and Dan knew it was time to go. He had shift in a few hours. He’d usually spend his extra time with Chloe, but Susanne had taken her into the city to shop this weekend. He could probably use a nap after working overtime last night to help out another deputy. That’s what a smart man would do.

But Dan wasn’t all that smart, because he headed right down Main Street toward the liquor store.

Chapter Three

Mack sat behind the counter and stared at the hiking poles leaning against the back wall, right between the cognac and the whiskey. She shifted on her dad’s weathered old stool, and her hiking boots clunked against the counter. Damn, these things were bulky. Nate had told her they were the highest-rated hiking boots on the market, and that she should wear them a few hours at a time to break them in and get used to them. So here she was, clumping around Dad’s liquor store in boots that would horrify the ladies back at Glenfadden Country Club. She grinned. That just made her like these boots all the more.

Her dad’s friend Bert Jenkins worked in the store part-time. He’d been covering full-time since Dad’s fall five days ago, so she’d given him a couple days off. It was weird being back in Gallant Lake, working the store on a Saturday. Everyone wanted to know about Dad, who had been grumpy as hell when she’d seen him this morning. But everyone also seemed a little hesitant to start up a conversation with her. Most of them had watched her grow up in this place.

To be fair, she hadn’t been much of a social butterfly those last few years she’d lived here. It felt like half the town hated them back then because of Ryan’s accident and Braden’s death. Then Braden’s family sued. And lost. Ryan was a mess. Her mom was sick. Dad did nothing but work. And Mack had spent her days tap-dancing like crazy to keep everyone happy at home and get good enough grades to earn a scholarship to a college as far away from Gallant Lake as possible.

She slid off the stool and walked to the back of the store, where the café tables and chairs sat in disarray. The stroll down memory lane wasn’t doing a thing to make her feel better about coming home again. She started arranging the tables and chairs.

Dad had told her he’d read an article about having wine tastings to draw in new customers, though he hadn’t gotten around to having one yet. But he had ordered the furniture. And rearranged the store to shift the wine section toward the back wall, where the tables were. It was an interesting concept, since wine was his biggest seller. Forcing people to walk past the bottles of vodka and gin to get to what they came for probably led to some impulse purchases. Dad had owned this liquor store for thirty years, but he never stopped trying to make it better. She slid two more chairs over to a table. She’d been to her share of fancy wine tastings back in Greenwich and could probably bluff her way through a wine night or two. If she was going to run the place, she should try to contribute something.

Dad had seemed more than happy to give her free rein over the store this morning. It used to be strictly his domain, but he’d shrugged off her news of taking a bottle of scotch last night—she skipped over her run-in with Dan. He told her it was a family business and she was family, so she could make her own decisions. Maybe it was the pain meds making him so amenable. He’d seemed resigned to spending a little more time at the hospital and then going to the rehab center as his ankle healed.

The bell over the front door chimed. She turned with a smile, but the smile faltered when she saw Dan Adams standing there. Her skin warmed at the memory of him pressing her against the wall last night after she’d tried to bash his head in. He was out of uniform now, in jeans and a well-worn henley. But he still sported the slanted smile she was beginning to think was a regular feature. It made him look perpetually amused, but his eyes were watchful. As if the half smile might just be a mask he wore to make him look nonthreatening. For some reason, she wanted to rattle him out of that disguise.

“What can I help you with, Officer? Looking for another Macallan?”

His smile deepened. “In the middle of the afternoon? Seems a little indulgent. I think that’s a drink best saved for evening hours.” He walked to the back, spotting the chairs and tables she’d set up. “So Carl’s going through with his plan for wine tastings?”

Mack shrugged. “I think he’s a little intimidated by the idea, since he’s not a huge wine drinker himself. But he was all for it when I told him I might give it a try. He has to call the licensing commission to make sure I qualify as a legal agent of the store so it’s all on the up-and-up.” She stepped back to inspect the tables, trying to determine if they were spaced far enough apart and making sure they weren’t blocking access to the wine displays.

Dan gave a low whistle. “Those are some pretty fancy boots you got there, Mackenzie.”

She looked down at her sturdy footwear. “I’m breaking them in. Nate Thomas says they’ll keep me warm and dry when I hit the trails.”

“Hit the trails? You could climb Everest in those things. I watched you grow up, kiddo, and I never once saw you on any trails around here.” Dan pulled out a chair and made himself at home.

Mack lifted her chin with a sniff. “I grew up a long time ago. I’ve changed.”

“Yeah? Is this part of that new-leaf thing you talked about last night?”

Her chin rose. “As a matter of fact, yes. It is. I’m tired of the sweater-set-and-pearls crowd.”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t know what that means, but the Mack I knew wore nothing but sweater sets.”

She studied him for a moment, tipping her head to the side. “That’s the whole point of a new leaf. I think I made it clear last night that I’m not the Mack you knew.”

He looked around the store, showing no signs of responding. Was he ignoring her? Dismissing her? Taunting her? Insecurity made her chest go tight. She’d vowed not to give a damn about how anyone judged her, but old habits died hard. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She turned away and straightened some wine bottles, refusing to speak before he did. She could wait him out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his slow smile return. Instead of reacting to her comment, he jumped to a new topic.

“You said you weren’t married anymore. What happened?”

She huffed out a surprised laugh. “Nice segue, Danger Dan. Just dive right into the deep end, why don’t you?”

A flicker of uncertainty passed over his face before he composed himself again. “Sorry. Sometimes I fall into cop mode with the tone of my questions. It’s just...” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving finger trails in the short, thick locks. “The last I knew, you were living your dream life over in Connecticut. Big house. Rich investor husband. Queen of the country club crowd. At least, that’s the way Carl made it sound.” He looked down at her feet again. “And now you’re clumping around your dad’s liquor store in hiking boots. I’m curious how that happened.”

She turned back to the wine display, fussing with the same bottles she’d just straightened, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “Well, you know what they say—be careful what you ask for. Some dreams aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. So I’m starting a new dream, here in Gallant Lake. And nowhere near my ex-husband and his social circle.”

Gallant Lake might not be where she’d planned to be living at this point in her life, but it was where she was needed. It wasn’t easy to think about facing everyone and explaining her failed dreams, but she’d just have to suck it up. Hopefully, she hadn’t burned all her bridges with her Mean Girls act in high school. She stared blankly at the bottle of merlot in her hand. It would serve her right if the whole town shunned her.

Dan’s voice went hard. “Did he hurt you?”

It made sense that a law enforcement officer would go there first, but the question still made her look up in surprise. The memory of how her marriage collapsed still stung.

“Not the way you’re suggesting, no. But it wasn’t fun.” She’d left everything she’d known behind in Greenwich, including her so-called friends.