Make you mine, p.1
Make You Mine, page 1
part #1 of Fireweed Harbor Series Series
Make You Mine
Fireweed Harbor Series
J.H. Croix
Contents
1. Haven
2. Rhys
3. Haven
4. Rhys
5. Rhys
6. Haven
7. Rhys
8. Rhys
9. Haven
10. Rhys
11. Haven
12. Haven
13. Rhys
14. Haven
15. Rhys
16. Rhys
17. Haven
18. Rhys
19. Haven
20. Rhys
21. Haven
22. Haven
23. Rhys
24. Rhys
25. Haven
26. Haven
27. Haven
28. Rhys
29. Haven
30. Rhys
31. Haven
32. Rhys
33. Rhys
34. Rhys
35. Haven
36. Rhys
37. Haven
38. Rhys
39. Haven
40. Rhys
Epilogue
Find My Books
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
* * *
Copyright © 2023 J.H. Croix
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Chapter One
Haven
With my boyfriend, Rhys, working late, I’d settled in for the evening. I had a glass of my favorite wine and my laptop on my lap. I felt like I was finally catching my stride again on rebuilding my online business for artsy cards and invitations.
I planned to keep my extra job as a barista for the time being, primarily because I wanted to build up a cushion of savings for myself, but I also enjoyed it. There was an ebb and flow to the busyness of every day when I was there. I also felt like it was helping me get my groove back with returning to my hometown. Fireweed Harbor, Alaska, was a bustling small town, and it had been a full decade since I’d lived here. It was nice to be in the pulse of town at the café.
I cocked my head to the side as I adjusted the layout of my website. My business, With Love, had nearly crashed and burned after my ex-boyfriend stealthily re-routed my earnings into his bank account. Like an idiot, I had trusted him to help me. After almost eight months, my stock of handmade wedding invitations and other cards was building again. I had expanded into offering digitized cards for larger orders and had established a solid presence on several of the artsy online websites.
I enjoyed plunking around on the backend of my website. Today, I was uploading a line of stickers. I hadn’t realized stickers could be a booming business, but I’d designed a few on a whim and discovered people loved them.
Although I spent many nights over at Rhys’s place, I tried to spend enough nights here so that I didn’t trick myself into thinking we were further along as a couple. I felt like we were in a good place, but I needed time, and I wanted to take it slow. We lived next door to each other, so it made taking things slow a little challenging sometimes. Our re-meeting last summer happened after I mistook his place next door for mine. The mini cape-style houses matched with dark gray siding and plum trim on the outside, giving a cheerful touch. The downstairs was open and airy with light-colored hardwood flooring and a peaked ceiling with windows that looked out onto a street that offered a view of the town’s harbor.
My lease was due for renewal this upcoming summer, and I wondered occasionally what to do about that. Rhys was my landlord. He’d pointed out time and again that he didn’t consider himself my landlord. His family’s property management company, a tiny branch of his family’s international corporation, technically handled my lease. I kept reminding him that he was the CEO of Fireweed Industries, a billion-dollar corporation. Fireweed Industries was owned and run by the Cannon family. The Cannon family was Fireweed Harbor royalty. All because they started Fireweed Winery a generation ago and spun that success into many investments and expansions. TL/DR: my boyfriend was a billionaire.
Startled by a knock on the door, I eyed the door skeptically. After a moment, I uncurled my legs, sliding my laptop to the side before standing and padding to the door in my socks. I swung it open to find a woman standing there. She thrust a manila envelope at me.
“Excuse me?” I prompted.
The envelope was already in my hands. I had reflexively taken it from her.
“Consider yourself served,” she said before turning and walking briskly down the stairs.
“For what?” I called.
She didn’t answer, climbing in a car and driving off. I let out a sigh as I closed the door, locking it for good measure.
I walked over to the kitchen counter, sliding my thumb along the seal of the envelope to open it. Seconds later, I was staring down at some official-looking papers that were not addressed to me. They were for Rhys. The two small matching homes we lived in were next door to each other, so it was easy enough to confuse them. I’d confused them myself when I originally moved in.
Uneasiness slithered down my spine as I stared at the papers with a sense of mistrust spinning in my chest. These papers were a demand for child support, claiming that Rhys Cannon owed years of back support.
“What is this?” I whispered to myself.
I felt sick to my stomach. How in the hell could he lie to me about the fact that he had a child? Even worse, trying to avoid paying child support? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it.
I couldn’t even read anymore. With fury driving me, I stuffed the papers back in the envelope, put on my shoes, and marched out the front door down the walkway to Rhys’s place. I knew the combination to get inside, and I punched it in quickly.
Practically stomping into his house, I placed the innocuous manila envelope on his kitchen counter. This was the end for us. I had enough issues with trust. I didn’t need to try to rebuild this mess. With Rhys being my older brother’s best friend and a fixture around our small town, it would be hell to avoid him, but I would deal with it. I had some pride to cling to and refused to be an idiot again.
As I walked back over to my place with my gut churning, I wondered if I should even explain, or if the papers he’d find when he got home would be enough of an answer.
Chapter Two
Rhys
I stared at the papers on my kitchen counter, genuinely confused. I knew the name of the woman requesting child support, but I hadn’t seen her since college. As I read through them, I only got more confused. She claimed we had a sort of serious relationship. According to this bullshit paperwork, I’d been intoxicated one night and forgotten to use birth control.
I snorted to myself because I didn’t get intoxicated. It wasn’t that I didn’t drink at all—hell, my family ran a brewery and winery, among many other ventures—but I never had more than one or two drinks, even in college. My older brother by one year had a serious problem with alcohol in college, and I’d been too aware of the risks to let myself stumble down that path. Jake had ultimately died from alcohol poisoning during his senior year in college. That was a lesson burned into my brain. The rest of us, all six of my siblings and me, didn’t drink much.
I suppose that was remarkable, given that our family’s business started as a winery. Jake had reasons for drinking so heavily, and we all knew it. His life had been a god-awful tragedy. Even now, with him gone, I would’ve done anything to change what had happened to him, and I didn’t mean simply the tragic circumstances of his death.
I knew Haven had to have delivered these papers to the house. She was the only person who had the combination to get into my house. She had to realize this was a bunch of bullshit, right?
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was after midnight. Crossing over to the kitchen windows, I looked toward Haven’s house. Not a single light was on.
A sense of uneasiness churned inside me, but I decided to hope for the best. Surely, she knew this had to be a ploy for money.
“Haven,” I pleaded. “This is not true.” I held the cursed envelope in my hand, shaking it in the air.
Her green eyes had a hard look to them. “I don’t know what to believe,” she finally said. “And right now isn’t the time to have this conversation.”
She was standing behind the counter at Spill the Beans Café where she worked. I glanced around, my eyes taking in the curious gazes watching us.
We were at our small town’s center of the universe—gossip central, where people came to get coffee, and the town's pulse.
“Haven—”
Haven Rivers had blown into my life like a fresh summer breeze. With her strawberry-blond curls, her pretty green eyes, and her lush, curvy body, I’d tumbled into lust for her last summer, quickly followed by love. As my best friend’s little sister, I’d initially told myself Haven was off-limits, but I hadn’t been able to resist her. A decade after I’d last seen her, the girl I’d hardly noticed in high school had blossomed
She shook her head. “Rhys, leave it alone.”
“I can prove I’m not—” I began.
Her breath drew in sharply as she narrowed her eyes at me. “It says right in there she’s willing to do a paternity test. Please leave me alone.”
I felt a burning, sharp pain in my heart as I stared back at her. I’d gone and fallen in love with her, and now she was basically dumping me in front of everyone in town.
“This is not over, Haven.”
“It is for me,” she deadpanned.
As I walked out, I heard someone chuckle and comment. “Rhys might be a nice guy, but he should’ve realized his past would catch up with him.”
I ignored the voice, pushing through the door and walking outside. I stopped on the covered porch, glancing around. The café was already preparing for spring even though the snow was still on the mountains and the air was chilly. No one was out here having coffee this morning, but the tables were out, and they had left the chairs stacked against the back of the porch.
It wouldn’t be long before they would start putting out those heated outdoor lamps. I walked down the steps, pausing on the sidewalk, feeling uncertain about where to go. The indecision felt uncomfortable, and I shifted my shoulders as if I could shake the feeling off.
I always knew where to go—hook a right, angle across the street, and walk to my office at the headquarters for Fireweed Industries.
Instead, I crossed the street and walked down to the harbor. It was late spring, and the air was still crisp and cold. Fireweed Harbor was nestled along the stunning coastline of Southeast Alaska. Mountains rose tall behind the town with a glacier glittering in the distance. The town’s actual boat harbor was tucked into a pretty little cove off the famed Inside Passage, which stretched from Seattle to the Alaskan panhandle and encompassed islands, coves, bays, national parks, and fjords. Beyond its startling natural beauty, it happened to be one of the few places in the world where the water was deep enough for ships to sidle close to the base of the mountains, offering up-close views. It was truly a magical place, and I felt lucky to be able to call it home.
I breathed the crisp, salty air gusting off the water. This was my home, the place I’d come back to. Up until last summer, I’d lived in Seattle, managing the helm of our family’s corporation from the headquarters we’d established there. Ghosts of the past, tangled up in my brother’s death and other messy details, had set the wheels in motion to make some changes. For years, I’d run from the memories that reminded me of my older brother, but I didn’t want to run anymore, so I came home.
I’d stumbled into love with Haven, my childhood best friend’s little sister. That hadn’t been on my bingo card. And now, I had this mess to deal with.
“All I have to do is straighten it out,” I said to myself as I turned and walked up the dock.
I would call our family’s attorney and get him to kick this child support lawsuit to the curb. Then I would fix things with Haven. She would realize I hadn’t been hiding a huge secret from her.
Chapter Three
Haven
“You broke it off with Rhys?” Deacon asked.
“Of course I did!”
I ignored the tiny bit of defensiveness I felt inside. I hadn’t expected Deacon to sound surprised. My older brother hadn’t exactly been pleased when Rhys and I told him we were dating.
“Deacon, you’re the one who warned me about him when we started dating. Rhys isn’t exactly known for being faithful to anyone. You said he doesn’t even get serious. I read the papers. He got her pregnant in college.”
“Ok-aaay,” my brother said slowly. “To your point, that’s accurate about him not getting serious with anyone. But it doesn’t add up. No matter what Rhys might think of this woman, he is not the kind of guy to blow off paying child support. He would want a relationship with his child if he knew they existed.”
“Maybe he didn’t believe it was his kid,” I said, adjusting one of my earbuds.
“Maybe. Why don’t you try having a conversation with him about it?”
“You’re supposed to be on my side!” I protested.
Deacon was quiet for a moment. “I am on your side. Even if I agree that Rhys never used to get serious with anyone, he’s not the kind of guy who would blow off his child. I think you can at least agree with that.”
I grumbled before responding, “I suppose.”
My brother chuckled. “Look, I understand this is stressing you out. I even understand deciding to put the brakes on this thing with Rhys, but it doesn’t change how you feel.”
I felt as if my brother had dragged a jagged knife across the surface of my heart. I swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“After you finally fessed up that you were seeing him, you swore up and down that he wasn’t the guy to screw you over and that I needed to give your relationship with him a chance. Rhys told me he’s in love with you. I’m pretty sure you feel the same.”
“I don’t see the point in talking about it,” I snapped.
“Fine, we won’t talk about it. I just have one more thing to say. I think a break is good. No matter what, this seems like a mess for Rhys to deal with. Let him sort things out, but maybe don’t assume the worst in the meantime.”
I spent two almost sleepless nights tossing and turning and assuming the worst. Two mornings later, I jogged down the steps at my house, studiously avoiding looking in the direction of Rhys’s house. I failed in my attempt not to look, but my eyes bounced away quickly as I practically ran by. I loved this time of day. At ten minutes before five in the morning, it was quiet in Fireweed Harbor.
The small home I rented downtown was on a side street off Main Street. When I turned onto Main Street, I glanced toward the harbor. The sun was rising, the early rays angling upward and casting a golden shimmer across the harbor waters. The morning air was salty and chilly this spring morning even though the higher elevations in the mountains still had snow. Some of it would remain through the summer.
My gaze arced in the other direction and traveled down the mountainside. Nestled into the feet of the mountains, the houses in my hometown peeked out through the evergreen trees. The winding roads were visible through the trees, and the downtown area was cute and colorful. Fireweed Harbor was situated along the famed Inside Passage of Alaska, a beacon for cruise ships and tourists. The town catered to them all year long, with spring through autumn being the busiest time of year.
My gaze made its way back to the harbor. Although my mood was anxious and unsettled, the fresh air gusting off the ocean and the colors of the sunrise shimmering on the water tugged my lips into a little smile.
An eagle called nearby, the sound sharp and piercing. Motion caught my eye, and I glanced over to see the eagle coming into land on one of the dock pilings. I scanned out past the boats in the harbor to see a small raft of sea otters gathered just beyond the docks. I took a deep breath, the air soothing me.
Turning away, I kept walking until I reached Spill the Beans Café. I strolled around the back, entering the kitchen and slipping the keys into my purse. After hanging up my jacket and leaving my purse in the break room for the staff, I tied one of the café aprons around my waist. The café’s logo was emblazoned on it in shimmery pink with spilled coffee beans underneath.
