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AS A TEEN, Clayton Travers would have given his left nut for the chance to set foot inside Gabriella Chanceâs home.
Ironic that now heâd been sleeping there for a week.
After spending the last nine years in Memphis, Clayton had come back home to the small town of Heartache for a reunion of his foster family planned by his foster brother, Samuel Reyes, who was now the townâs sheriff. Since Clayton had a private investigations business, he had done Sam a favor by staying in the Chance household, which was now occupied by Zach, Gabriellaâs older brother and also the mayor of Heartache. Zach had needed some extra eyes on his fiancée, Heather Finley, after the woman was the target of an attempted kidnapping. Clayton didnât mind collecting a paycheck while he was in town, so heâd gladly taken the easy gig for a week. But now, with the threat confirmed to be behind bars, Clayton would find somewhere else to stay until the Hasting family reunion later that week. He packed his duffel at dawn to leave the Chance house, his eyes lingering on an old photo of Gabriella on the sleek, mission-style dresser in the bedroom where heâd slept these last six nights.
She stood in front of a big pink castle in a California theme park, her arm around a huge stuffed panda that must have been a game prize. She wore a long dress too big for her, making her look sort of lost inside it. Wisps of blond hair from her ponytail blew in a summer breeze as she smiled, but there was something off about the photo. It wasnât a real smileânot like the ones he remembered from the few times theyâd ended up staying after school together. Sheâd been a math genius, helping kids as a student tutor, and sheâd been cool about it, too, even though Clayton had been taking algebra when everyone else in his grade had moved on to calculus or trig. It wasnât that he was totally clueless, he just switched homes and schools too fast to patch together the right credits. Heâd fallen behind trying to learn math from teachers whoâd taught it with really different methods. Gabriella never made him feel like the flunky foster kid.
Far from it.
Too bad she hadnât lived in Tennessee for the past decade, walking out of this very house one long-ago summer and never looking back, leaving Clayton to finish his senior year by himself. Sam, the foster brother heâd roomed with at the Hastingsâ house, had left town the same time as Gabriella and her older brother. The only way Daniel and Lorelei Hasting, Clayton and Samâs foster parents, had avoided a full-scale child protective services investigation was that Sam turned eighteen shortly afterward, making him an independent adult.
âDude, donât tell me youâre packing up?â Zach Chance appeared in the bedroom doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand and a phone in the other.
Besides being mayor, Zach ran his own digital security firm and was probably worth a small fortune, but Clayton wouldnât have guessed it if he hadnât seen the downstairs office full of high-tech equipment and dozens of computer screens. Zach had opened his home to him like they were old friends, making it all the more awkward now that the guy had caught Clayton gawking at a photo of Zachâs sister.
âI am.â He tossed a pair of socks into the duffel and zipped it. âFreeloading isnât one of my services, even though itâs tempting when the hospitality is this good.â
Leaning a shoulder on the doorjamb of the spacious suite, Zach shook his head, keeping his voice low.
âAnd that hospitality is all because of Heather. Itâs been great having her live under the same roof as me.â He sipped from the steaming cup before continuing. âI hope she doesnât get the idea she should move out, too, once she sees youâve left.â
Zach had convinced Heather to stay with him while there were threats circulating around town against people who might testify against Jeremy Covington, the guy whoâd tried to kidnap Heather.
âI think she digs you, Mayor,â Clayton assured him, shouldering the duffel while the scent of coffee filled the room. âYouâll think of something to keep her here.â
âI hope so. With the Covington trial starting tomorrow, weâll be staying in Franklin for at least the first week to be closer to court.â He sipped his coffee. âThis house is going to be empty anyway and Sam said there have been some break-ins around town lately. Now that the Covington trial is set, heâs going to start looking into them more closely.â
âI heard about the break-ins,â Clay said, ready to move on despite the offer. âBut youâve got the most kick-ass security system in town, I hear.â
Zach chuckled. âIâd better, right? Itâll put me out of business if my house gets robbed with a company name like Fortress. Even if my business is more digital security than anything.â He straightened a rumpled throw rug in the hallway with his toe. âBut what about you? Are you going to stay at your foster motherâs house?â
âNo. Thereâs a lot of activity over there and I donât want to be underfoot.â He remembered what it had been like at Lorelei Hastingâs foster home. Fun and noisy with kids coming and going, the house had been a refuge for people like him for almost fifteen years. He didnât want to crowd the place this week with one more body. âIâm thinking Iâll grab a nice little motel on the outskirts of town so I can play my guitar where no one will hear me.â
âThat good?â Zach grinned.
âI only play for the love of it.â And to keep his stress level down. Strumming a tuneâeven if it wasnât pitch-perfectâhelped dial back his agitation faster than any of the meds theyâd tried putting him on as a kid. With his biological dad in and out of the hospital and asking to see him, Clayton was going to need all the self-help he could wrangle this week to face the old deadbeat whoâd shit all over Claytonâs life. âI think there are some places out on the interstate that should fill the bill.â
âFor sure. If you donât want to do the Heartache B & B, the motels on the highway are your only options. That is, if youâre really sure I canât convince you to stay?â
âIâve heard your fiancée play a guitar.â Clayton grabbed his own instrument, which heâd never even taken out of the soft-sided case since arriving in town. âNo way am I going to start banging out tunes in front of the local music teacher.â
Zach backed out of the doorway, leaving Clayton a clear path.
âSheâs a talent. Thereâs no denying that.â Zach followed him into the kitchen toward the back door where Claytonâs bike was parked.
Clayton waved off offers of coffee and breakfast, ready to move on. The domestic bliss of the Chance household with new lovebirds Heather and Zach might have been charming if Clayton hadnât been so decidedly single and in a dark place right now. He looked forward to the Hasting fostersâ reunion, but he dreaded seeing his biological father as much as pulling out a sliver embedded under a fingernail. He wouldnât do it if not for the fact that his dad had another daughterâClaytonâs half sisterâstill living with him. Clay hated that he hadnât known about this sibling, Mia Benson, until two weeks ago when his father called with a request that Clay pay him a visit. Clay had about blown a gasketâwith his dad for failing to mention yet another kid he hadnât taken care of. But also with himself for not keeping better track of the old manâs offspring. Then again, like most of Pete Yancyâs kids, the girl didnât bear his name and hadnât spent much time in his household.