Pieces of Summer(4)

Shrugging, I guide him in, listening to him whistle low as he takes in all the surroundings. Our lake home is still just as amazing as ever, even though it needs some updating.

“This place is one hell of a gem. Why is it in a dying town?”

“Same reason I am,” I say quietly, running my hands over the railing of the staircase, silently adding, Hayden never lets you go. “Hayden is small, but it’s not dying,” I tell him as I turn around, changing the subject. “It’s actually growing economically. I think my new purchase will do well.”

“Why are you buying a bowling alley again? I don’t get it. You’re a murder/mystery writer. Not a damn bowling alley owner.”

“Yes, well, in my next book, the victim dies in the bowling alley. I need to do some research,” I deadpan.

He’s not getting the real reason.

“Why do I ever expect you to be serious?” he groans. “I’m going to start sketching up some designs after I inspect the place a little better. Hope you know you’re paying me a pretty penny.”

“I’m aware,” I say with a smile, considering I’m paying him in wine and chick flicks for a solid weekend. It’s not like he needs my money. I had to force him to take money for the bowling alley he handled for me.

“I’m about to head over to see how the renovations to the bowling alley have come along. Lanes to Strike is having its grand opening next weekend.”

“Wah wah wah,” my asshole brother says dramatically, giving it a thumbs down. “Seriously keeping that name?”

“I like it. It’s straight to the point.”

“It’s annoyingly obvious,” Hunter chimes in from somewhere near the kitchen.

“Whatever. Sign is already hanging, so fuck off. I’m going to meet the floor manager and operations manager if I can catch them before they leave. They’re doing a walk-through today.”

Aidan flips me off while smiling, and I roll my eyes while leaving.

The drive to town is short, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my jean shorts as soon as I pull up. I don’t care if I look professional or not. That’s the beauty of owning a place; people can’t tell you how to dress or act. Especially in a town like Hayden.

For the first time in so long, I feel good. This was a good idea.

Out of paranoia, I glance around, searching for a man who no longer lives here, thankfully. I sort of stalked his Facebook once I found out he had an account. He left Hayden five years ago, and his social media was shut down after that. I don’t even know where he went or what he did. I’m just glad he doesn’t live here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come back.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

No, no. It’s true.

As soon as I walk in, I’m greeted by a very blonde, leggy, gorgeous girl who is wearing a set of cutoff shorts that look much better on her than me. She’s model thin and showing off just a peek of her stomach.

I subconsciously tug at my shirt, making sure none of my less-than-perfect skin is showing like her firm, flawless skin is.

“Hi, you must be Ms. Dalton, right?” the girl asks in her thick southern drawl that only adds to her charm.

“You must be Whitney West. No wonder Chuck said guys would be pouring in off the streets when they got a look at who was running the floor,” I tell her, smiling when she blushes. “And call me Mika. Everyone else does.”

She sticks out her hand and I shake it, as she adds, “Everyone just calls me Whit.”

Before I can say anything else, Chuck rounds the corner, smiling wide as he takes me in. “You’re here! You’re really here!” he exclaims excitedly.

He’s the short, bald, older, sweet guy I’ve spent months talking to over the phone about this endeavor. Even though he has no clue I used to visit Hayden every summer, he does know I’m familiar with the area. I only wish I had bothered to get to know more locals during my visit, instead of spending every waking moment with—

Nope. Not going to do that. Chase James is a thing of the past, and it’s pointless to dwell on what never was. I can handle this. That was what I told myself before starting this entire endeavor, and I need to keep it as my mantra.

“So happy to finally meet you in person,” I tell Chuck, then gasp when he grabs me in a bear hug and squeezes the hell out of me like I’m his long lost daughter or sister.

Whit grins broadly while leaning against the counter, and I suck in a much-needed breath when Chuck releases me. Physical contact isn’t allowed, so I’m not used to it. Needless to say, my entire body is rigid right now from the shock of feeling an embrace.

It’s not a big deal. As long as he doesn’t make a habit of it.

He’s so short that I have to look down to see him, and he’s grinning up at me.

“This is the best thing this town has had happen to it since the carnival opened up five years ago and saved us from slowly fading into nothing. This place is incredible, and the bar will definitely be a large draw. You’ve done amazing,” he praises, his eyes oozing excitement and sincerity.

Looking around, a slow smile curls my lips. The lanes are pristine, beautiful, and ready to be played on. The arcade near the back is stocked with all the basics for teens and adults to enjoy. The bar is gorgeous and wide, making sure to allow plenty of room for people to pop in, place an order, and return to their lanes with their friends, while they wait on someone to serve their drinks to them.

All in all, it’s exactly like Hunter promised it would be. I love him for handling the renovations on this place, even though it was extremely out of his comfort zone. This renovation, unlike the one he’s doing on my house, I did pay for. I paid him damn well, even though he didn’t want me to actually pay him since he didn’t technically do the difficult task of designing. He also never came down here to handle it personally.

However, he’s the one who tracked down everything on my list and found a way to make it work via phone calls with contractors and workers. I’m glad he’s finally going to get to see his handiwork in person.

“Can I ask what made you buy this old run-down bowling alley and breathe new life into it?” Whit asks.

She’s my floor manager. She’s in charge of handling any issues that arise out here, while also keeping tabs on the employees. Chuck is my office manager, in charge of payroll, balancing the books, scheduling, hiring and so much more.

Her question hits a spot inside me that I don’t want to be opened up.

“Just trying to get some closure,” I say quietly, marveling at the amazing transformation. Hunter should have been paid more.



“This is the most productive, healthiest way to seek closure, Mika. Do you understand? You could become legendary if we can fix you. The scientific and psychological community would be in awe of your abilities to cope with the damage your mind has sustained. You’re already making progress no one ever expected. We don’t have to sedate you as often anymore. In another five years, who knows how normally you’ll be able to function.”

Normal… I just want to be normal again. It’s all I want.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I say around a choked sob, giving up the fight against the restraints. “Whatever it takes.”



“Closure?” Chuck and Whit ask in unison.

Shaking my head from my thoughts, I turn to face them. This is not the healthiest way to seek closure. Not healthy at all. Dr. Kravitz would be furious. But Dr. Stein is on my side, at least. She agrees I need this, even if it isn’t healthy.

“Unfinished business. This actually feels really good to see. I can’t wait for the grand opening.”

Whit’s smile blooms across her face, only adding to the fact she’s insanely beautiful. If she wasn’t so nice, I’d have to hate her.

A horn blows outside, and Whit glances through the doors. “Oh crap. I have to go finish my last shift at the diner. My ride’s here.”

I glance through the front glass doors to see the shiny red Ford that is jacked up on huge wheels and tires. You can tell I’m in Hayden. Big trucks. Big tires. Big boys with big toys.

The guy sitting behind the wheel is holding his phone to his ear, blocking most of the view of his face, but I can see tattoos running down the length of his arm and crawling up his neck. I can even see the scruff on his jaw, and it’s a good look on him.

Of course Whit would have a sexy bad boy. Personally, I’ve always preferred the sweeter guys. Then again, even the sweet ones are just assholes in disguise.

Snapping my gaze back to her, I force a smile. “I’ll see you next weekend,” I tell her.

She squeals a little. “Can’t wait.”

She jogs toward the doors, and I watch as she climbs the beast of a truck to get in the passenger side. The guy doesn’t even lower his phone as he wheels away, never once glancing in the direction of the bowling alley. For some unknown reason, I continue to stare as if gravity demands it.

Hayden may already be messing with my head.





Chapter 4



CHASE



“Are you seriously not coming to the grand opening tonight?” Whit groans, following me through the house as I search for my elusive belt. The hell did I do with it?

“Nope,” I tell her, cursing when I get desperate enough to start searching under couch cushions.