The Trouble With Love Read online

  The Monster-Mash Cakes were a hit, although she was certain the kids would have loved just about any free cupcake. The real treat, for Rocky, was the success of the charity cupcake sale. The reason the booth was so short staffed was because they’d run low on cupcakes and several of the members, including Chloe, had retreated home to bake and replenish supplies. At this rate, the Cupcake Lovers would have a pretty hefty sum to donate to Sugar Tots for the new playground. Thinking of Sugar Tots made Rocky think of Rachel. Excusing herself, Rocky retreated to the back of the booth and, for the second time today, tried calling the reclusive CL member. Again, no answer, just an automated voice inviting the caller to leave a message—which Rocky did. Frowning, she pocketed her phone and edged back in next to Tasha, who was taking orange tickets and handing out Monster-Mash Cakes with a brittle smile.

  “I just want you to know,” Rocky said, “that I’ve tried Rachel twice today. I’m hoping she’ll get back to me before the end of the day,” she plowed on when Tasha didn’t react. “I’ll mention how busy and strapped we are and try to get her to work the booth for a while. That way Amber can at least get a shot of Rachel in action.”

  “I’m not counting on it.”

  Rocky dug deep for calm. “Why are you mad at me?” she asked in a low voice while rearranging the dwindling supply of Ethel’s Chocolate Pumpkin Spices.

  “I’m not mad at you, Rocky,” Tasha said in an equally calm tone. “I’m mad at the world.” Her phone pinged, and after reading the text she whirled away, “Excuse me,” and left the booth.

  Ethel sidled over and took a ticket from a young boy. “I have to say I’m impressed,” the older woman said to Rocky. “Tasha’s put in more hours at this booth than any other CL member. And she’s actually been nice to the kids. Well, as nice as Tasha can be. She’s sort of awkward with genuine pleasantries.”

  “She’s certainly determined to put on a good show for the camera,” Rocky said.

  “Normally, I’d agree, but I’ve been watching and I get the sense that she’s actually trying to put her best foot forward for the club and the community. She said something to me about wanting to make Randall proud.”

  Rocky blinked. “You’re kidding.”

  Ethel shrugged. “A passing remark. I didn’t pursue it because she looked like she regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth.”

  “Huh.” Blessedly distracted from her own personal problems, Rocky watched as Tasha weaved through the crowd, frowning when she saw her point of destination. Decked out in full uniform, Deputy Burke was leaning against the ticket booth next to the kiddie carnival rides and games. Tasha crossed her arms over her chest as she approached, then stood stiffly as Billy leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Tasha nodded, then backed away. She disappeared into the crowd, and damned if Billy’s weasel gaze didn’t float over to the Creepy Cupcake booth and lock on Rocky.

  Watch your ass, Rocky. I am.

  “That does it.”

  “Where are you going?” Ethel asked as Rocky untied her apron.

  “To whack a weasel.”

  * * *

  Jayce had spent the afternoon trying not to dwell on his fight with Rocky and watching her back instead. He maintained visual contact from a distance while handling business via his smart phone. E-mails. Calls. A quick Internet search on Harper Day—who was, at least on the surface, a respected and well-connected Hollywood publicist.

  Meanwhile his senses buzzed with the sights and sounds of the popular festival. Sugar Creek was packed with locals and tourists. Several people he knew, including Sam McCloud and his two kids, had stopped to talk with Jayce when they’d spied him sitting on a bench or leaning against a tree, seemingly taking in the festivities of the Spookytown Spectacular. All the while, Jayce had kept a keen eye on Rocky.

  More than once he’d berated himself for being paranoid. She was in public, in a cupcake booth, surrounded by friends and hordes of families enjoying multiple activities. The sun was shining, and temps were mild. A local band cranked out country folk music. There was nothing ominous about this day. So when Jayce got a call from Dev asking him to meet him at J.T.’s, he shelved his paranoia and hoofed it one block over to the bustling department store. Dev had promised to broach the subject of Adam with Luke. Jayce assumed Dev hadn’t liked what he’d learned. He hadn’t sounded happy on the phone.

  Jayce scaled the stairs to Dev’s office two at a time. He knocked on the partially opened door, then walked in.

  Dev looked up from a mound of paperwork. “You’re not going to like this.” He held up a specific document for Jayce’s inspection.

  Curious, Jayce moved forward and took the pristine page. A photocopy of the toxicology report on his parents. Shit. Pulse erratic, he glanced back to Dev. “Where’d you get this?”

  “Barry Stein, executive editor of the Sugar Creek Gazette. Said it was delivered to him, anonymously, along with this typed note.”

  Jayce took another page from Dev and read out loud. “Jerome Monroe and Jayce Bello conspired to bury this evidence. Is Bello the kind of man we want policing Sugar Creek?” Jayce blew out a breath. “Obviously instigated by someone who believes the rumor about me running for sheriff.”

  “Could be Stone,” Dev said. “Hell, it could be Billy. He wouldn’t be keen on working under you. At any rate, Barry turned it over to me, saying he didn’t feel right about making this public until he’d at least given the family a heads-up. I told him you had no intention of running for sheriff. Tried to reason with him about dredging up dirt for the sake of dirt. Barry’s a decent man and I’m pretty sure we can count on his discretion, but that doesn’t mean another photocopy won’t land at the Pixley Tribune or any one of several northern Vermont papers.”

  Jayce chewed the inside of his cheek, reviewed the report one last time.

  “I called Dad. He wants to speak with you first, but his advice is to let Barry run the story. Get it out and over with and he’ll do damage control.” Dev’s lip twitched. “You should have heard the heat in the old man’s voice. He’s primed for the fight. In a warped way, I think this is a good thing. For him. And you.” Dev regarded Jayce with a calm and caring expression. “With this secret out in the open, maybe you can finally let go and move on.”

  Jayce nodded. It did indeed seem like the final tie that needed severing. “I’ll call your dad. Let’s do it.”

  As if on cue, Dev’s phone rang. “Devlin Monroe. No problem. What’s up, Gerry?” He listened, then shot to his feet. “Who phoned it in?… No.… Yeah. We’re on our way.” He hung up, then nailed Dev with another look—this one pained. “The Red Clover’s on fire.”

  * * *

  Rocky pushed through the crowd, tears blurring her vision, panic obscuring clear thought. Must get home. Purse. Keys. No, Jayce drove. Phone. Pocket. She’d almost made it back to the cupcake booth when someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Dash.”

  “Oh, God. Jayce.”

  “You heard,” he said while finessing her through the masses.

  “Was talking to Billy. His walkie-talkie squawked and someone said, Ten-seventy at One-oh-one Pikeman Lane. That’s my address,” she choked out.

  “I know, hon.” Jayce helped her into the car, buckled her seat belt.

  “Asked him what it meant. He looked sort of stunned. Then he mumbled something about dreams going up in smoke, and stalked off.”

  Jayce squeezed her arm and shut the door.

  Rocky’s stomach convulsed as he rounded the car and climbed behind the wheel. “It means ‘fire,’ doesn’t it? ‘Ten-seventy,’” she said. “I heard sirens.”

  “Listen, babe, I need you to stay calm. I was with Dev when he got a call from Gerry Rush.”

  The captain of the fire department. So it was official. Rocky wrapped her arms around her aching middle. “Oh, God.”

  “Someone phoned it in. Anonymous call. Fire trucks are on their way. Police, too. Dev’s en route and he’s calling Luk
e.”

  “Brewster—”

  “Is a smart dog. As soon as he smelled smoke, he probably panicked and busted out.”

  “H-how?”

  “You left the window partially opened for fresh air, remember? The screen.”

  But she hadn’t left it open enough for Brewster to squeeze his body through, had she? She imagined his teddy-bear face and the one ear that flopped over, the way he followed her everywhere, the way he liked to snuggle. “I feel sick.”

  “Think positive.”

  If she hadn’t been holding herself together with locked arms, she would’ve punched him. “My freaking house is burning down, Jayce! Everything I own. Everything I love.”

  “It might not be that bad, Rocky.”

  But as his car raced faster and closer, she could see the smoke. Ugly black smoke billowing against the blue sky and vibrant mountains. Her eyes burned, and she retched. Her throbbing brain raced. She’d made hot tea for the film crew. Had she left the burner on? Had something sparked due to the rewiring in the house?

  She saw it then. The fire trucks. The raging fire.

  But no dog.

  “Brewster!”

  Jayce was still braking to a stop and she already had the seat belt off. She pushed open the door.

  “Goddammit, Rocky!”

  Hitting the ground in motion, she tripped and fell to her knees. Stood and ran. People shouted. Flames ravaged. Water gushed from hoses, yet the heat seared and pulsed in suffocating waves.

  Jayce tackled her just as an explosion rocked the earth and shattered her heart. She wanted to puke. She wanted to die. Her body shook with fury and sobs as Jayce hauled her off of the grass and into his arms.

  She clung and wept, her heart in tatters as she imagined Brewster. She could see his face. She could hear his bark.

  “Dash.”

  The noise was deafening. Crackling, burning. Firemen shouting. Barking.

  She felt something warm and wet on her cheeks. A tongue. A big sloppy tongue and bacon doggy-treat breath. She opened her eyes. “Brewster.” Her voice cracked from abuse and emotion. Rocky wrapped her arms around her furry friend and hugged him with all her might. She felt Jayce stroking her back, felt someone else squeeze her shoulder. She looked up just as her big brother stooped down.

  “Jayce told me Brewster was here,” Dev said in a low voice. “I informed Gerry, and his crew called for Brewster as soon as they arrived. He ran out of the woods just before you got here, Rocky. He’s unharmed, but it’s not safe here. Let me put him in my car and let Jayce move you further from the house.”

  What house? she wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was thick with misery, relief, and acrid smoke. She gave Brewster another hug, then let her brother lead him away.

  Jayce framed her face with his hands. “Rocky, look at me.”

  She blinked at him through a haze of tears. She’d never seen him look so somber.

  “It’ll be okay, hon. Are you listening?”

  She flashed back on the creepy note. You crushed my life, now I’ll crush yours.

  Except the Red Clover wasn’t her life. Her family and friends were her life. Jayce was her life.

  What if the fire hadn’t been an accident? What if someone had set it intentionally? And what if that same person crushed Rocky further by going after Jayce?

  Panic whispered through her veins. Fresh tears blurred her eyes. If she pushed Jayce away, if he wasn’t a part of her life, maybe then he’d be safe. Chaos and sadness ravaged Rocky’s heart, mind, and soul. “Nothing will ever be right again.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “You need to calm down.”

  Jayce looked at Dev. “Did I say anything?”

  “You didn’t have to. I’ve known you a long time and I know when you’re upset. Rocky’s in shock, Jayce. People say things they don’t mean under extreme circumstances. Losing her home and business, all of her belongings? That’s extreme.”

  Jayce tried to relax on the sofa in Daisy Monroe’s house. A sofa he’d sat on hundreds of times through the years. He tried to slow his racing, battered heart. Tried to reap assurance from Dev’s logic. But all he could hear was Rocky’s refusal when he’d tried to take her back to his place, the home she’d so lovingly decorated. The home so full of her. Of them.

  I can’t do this. Us.

  She may as well have told him to piss off, because she’d proceeded to shut down just as she had thirteen years ago.

  “Gram and Chloe are with her now. Just give Rocky a little time.”

  Jayce imagined her sitting on a canopied bed in one of the many bedrooms of this enormous house. He imagined her looking at all the antiques and collectibles and thinking about everything she’d lost in the fire. He didn’t blame her for being devastated. She’d put everything into the Red Clover. Her creativity, hard work, and all of her finances—plus some of Dev’s. That inn had been her dream, yet over the years it had proven little more than a hardship and ultimately a heartbreak.

  Jayce hoped Daisy and Chloe were reminding Rocky that she had the moral and financial support of a large and lucrative family. That’s what he’d be saying if she hadn’t pushed him away. He’d also remind her that she had Brewster. And, whether she liked it or not, she had Jayce. Unlike the first time she’d rejected him, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Luke walked in from the kitchen carrying three beers. He handed one to Jayce.

  Jayce met the younger brother’s eyes and noted a spark of mutual concern for Rocky. There’d be no fighting now, no grudge regarding the past. Time to pull together. No matter their beefs or quirks, the Monroes always pulled together in times of trouble. Jayce reflected on how many times he’d banded with them in the past. How he’d always been included. How he was still included. Throat tight, Jayce accepted Luke’s grand gesture and sipped beer.

  Luke sank down in an opposing wingback chair. “Just got off of the phone with Adam. He heard the news—everyone’s heard by now—and he was calling to make sure Rocky’s okay. He was genuinely shook up.” Luke held Jayce’s gaze. “You can’t blame the guy for caring.”

  “I don’t.” And he meant it. He was pretty sure he’d allowed jealousy to taint his judgment where Adam was concerned. Still … “Can’t blame me for being cautious.”

  Luke raised a brow. “I know Sheriff Stone and Captain Rush said there was no obvious sign of foul play, but after what Dev told me … I mean, come on. Practically the whole of Sugar Creek’s fire and police department were on-site with the exception of Billy.”

  Jayce set his bottle on a coaster and leaned forward. “Stone said Billy was on his way over when he got an emergency call from his wife.”

  “Convenient,” Dev said.

  “And suspect,” Jayce said, “considering they’re separated.”

  “Which was news to all of us,” Dev said, “including Sheriff Stone.”

  “Stone said he’d look into my concerns and there’ll also be a formal investigation into the fire.” Jayce dragged a hand through his hair, tempering his frustration. “I don’t blame Stone for doubting my suspicions about Billy. A lot of things don’t add up.”

  “Timing for one,” Dev said. “He was with Rocky, in town, when the fire was reported.”

  “Could have rigged something with a timer,” Luke said. “Or maybe he set it, then drove like a bat out of hell into town. Fifteen-minute drive.”

  “Ten if you fly,” Jayce said.

  “But what about motive?” Luke asked. “What are we talking? Revenge? A grudge? Granted Billy’s an asswipe, but an arsonist? What would push him to risk his career and prison?”

  “I don’t know,” Jayce said. “But I’ll find out. As soon as I’m sure Rocky’s okay, I’ll be all over this.”

  “I’d advise cooling off first,” Luke said with a raised brow. “Last thing Dev and I want is to have to bail you out of jail for attempted murder.”

  “What about assault?” Jayce asked.

  D
ev shot him a look.

  “Not to take away from my sister’s case,” Luke said, picking at the label on his beer, “but I might need to hire you myself, Jayce.”

  “For what?” Dev asked.

  “Never mind,” Luke said. “Bad timing.”

  Jayce noted Luke’s tense body language. “We’ll talk.”

  “I called Dad and Mom,” Dev said, his own spine stiffening. “They’re flying up tomorrow.”

  “Took a crisis to pull them out of paradise, huh?” Luke shook his head. “I can’t believe they stayed down south so long without buckling for even one weekend visit home. Every time I brought it up they mentioned one or another conflict. The one time I considered flying down to visit them, Dad made me feel guilty as hell about leaving the Sugar Shack. If I didn’t know better I’d think they didn’t want to see me.”

  “About that.” Dev glanced at Jayce, then back to Luke. He sipped beer, then rolled back his shoulders. “There’s something you need to know. I’ll fill Rocky in when she’s stronger. It’s about Dad.”

  * * *

  Rocky sat on a yellow-and-red-flowered bedspread surrounded by lots of beautiful things, two caring people, and one needy dog. But for all of the comfort and love, her heart felt empty. Gram said she was in shock, but Rocky was pretty certain she was dead inside.

  “If you don’t want to live with Jayce,” Gram said, “you can live here. For as long as you like, sweet pea. There’s plenty of room. And after next week, I won’t be here at all. Unless you want me to stay. I can postpone my plans to move in with Vincent. He’ll understand.”

  “Yeah, but why don’t you want to live with Jayce?” Chloe said. “You love him and he loves you. I don’t get why you’re pushing him away.”