The Way Back Home (Homecoming Novella) Read online

  The Way Back Home Copyright © 2019 by C. Lymari. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Editors: Carmen Richter from CPR Editing

  Cover Design: NET Hook & Line Designs

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Afterword

  You Were Always Home

  Also by C. Lymari

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  To Stefanie because without you this book wouldn’t exist. Dex is yours.

  She’s a strong cup of black coffee in a world that is drunk on the cheap wine of shallow love. – J.M. Storm

  1

  Emma

  I can admit that saving all my money, taking loans, and investing it in a town that was barely growing wasn’t one of my brightest ideas. But I loved my hometown. I loved the people who, even though they were nosey and judgey at times, always pulled through when you needed them.

  I knew I wanted to have my own coffee shop since I was seven years old. Actually, I think I knew it at three when I drank mud water thinking it was coffee, but let’s not count that. When I was seven, my Grandma Vera came for a visit once and showed me how to make sugar cookies with espresso, and ever since then, it was my go-to snack. The cookies, that is. The espresso shots came in later in life, especially on those long college nights.

  I’ve always been timid. While other girls were on dates, at parties, or getting arrested, I was at home baking. Sugar cookies were my teenage years’ best friend. When the chance arose to own my own business in my beloved hometown, I jumped through hoops to get it.

  Today was a hot summer day, so I wore a faded pair of jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and my oldest pair of black Chuck Taylors. Next to me, on the passenger seat, sat two buckets of yellow paint that I had Mr. Carson prepare for me earlier today. I parked my car in front of the store I had just leased. I couldn’t have asked for a better spot: right at the end of the plaza and across the street from the kiosk and most of the town’s festivities. Closing the car door behind me, I placed the buckets of paint on the sidewalk while I marveled at my new place. Then I grabbed the key the real estate agent gave me and opened the door and, for the first time since returning to Sunny Pines, I felt at home.

  Since I was an impatient person, I got started on painting the front right away. I couldn’t wait to see my shop how I envisioned it in my head. I was so engrossed in painting my shop a pastel yellow that I didn’t notice people approaching.

  “What are you doing?”

  I stopped mid-roll at the haughty voice. I internally groaned since it would have been rude to do it aloud. It might have been years, but I’d recognize Abigail Newton's voice anywhere. Every town had that one wealthy family, but here in our tiny little slice of paradise we had two: the Newtons and The Dunnetts. Abigail and Gary Newton went to school with me and were far from pleasant, always thinking they were better than everyone else. The Dunnett siblings also went to school with me. Prescott was a senior in my freshman year; he, too, was an asshole. Juliet wasn’t the nicest either, but Maximilian was a sweetheart.

  “I asked you a question!” Abigail snapped.

  Pushing a strand of my curly blonde hair out of my eyes, I turned to give her a smile, even though all I wanted to do was tell her to mind her own business. We weren’t teenagers anymore. She shouldn’t have still been acting like the world revolved around her.

  “It’s this thing called painting.” I closed my mouth immediately because I couldn’t believe I had just said that.

  Oh, shoot. The first thing I saw was not one, but two sets of feet. One wore black strappy heels with a pale pink pedicure. Like I expected anything less from Abigail. The other pair wore black Vans sneakers and, unlike my black Chucks, his were brand new. My eyes followed the path of their legs, noting Abbi’s red skirt and white blouse, and the guy’s dark jeans and white t-shirt.

  Oh. My. Wow.

  He was gorgeous, the type of beautiful I’d never seen in my life. Tall, athletic build, handsome, dark brown hair, very handsome, and brown eyes, lips— oh, right, he was with Abigail. I turned to look at Abigail, who unsurprisingly had a scowl on her gorgeous face.

  What a shocker.

  “I know what painting is, but why are you painting this place?” She pointed at my new store.

  I had the front almost done. I couldn’t wait until I got my decal that said Emma’s Coffee. I know, not very creative, but this store was my baby and I wanted everyone to know that.

  Abigail snapped her fingers. “I’m talking to you, retard.”

  I loathed it when she called me that just because I was quiet and tended to get lost in my own head. It was more embarrassing because her out-of-town boyfriend was with her. Her out-of-town, very gorgeous boyfriend.

  “I bought it,” I replied, giving her a blank look.

  Well, actually, I had leased the store to buy it. But tomato, tomahto. Same thing. It would eventually be mine.

  Abigail scrunched her nose. “You bought my shop?”

  Her what? Yeah, no, I paid for this puppy. There was no way this spoiled princess was taking it away from me. I dug into my back pocket and pulled out the key. I might have gone a little overboard when I bought a personalized keychain with a coffee mug on it before I signed the lease.

  “Your shop?” I scoffed.

  Abigail turned to her boyfriend—damn he was good looking.

  “Daddy said he was going to buy me this store for my boutique!” She screeched.

  Oooh, girl. Daddy knew that was a bad investment.

  When out-of-town hottie snorted, I knew I said it aloud.

  “Excuse me, did you say something?”

  I looked at Abigail and shook my head. I was not in the mood for more of her insults. She could go take it up with Daddy or Harold at the bank and save me the headache.

  “Come on, Dex, let’s go. We have better things to do with our time.”

  I watched as Abigail wrapped her arms around her boyfriend. That was when I really looked at him. Okay, I could get lost in those brown eyes, but the thing that got me the most was the way he made my stomach tingle.

  Abigail’s boyfriend. Right. I needed to remember that. Besides, I wouldn’t know what do to with a guy like him. Unlike Abigail, her boyfriend had manners.

  “Dex Hendrix,” he said, extending a hand.

  Oh, Lord. His voice was sophisticated and cool, and that name was off-the-charts hot. It made me wonder if he was putting up a façade. He couldn’t be all that good and be dating Abigail. Which, in turn, got me thinking…when exactly did Abigail get over her obsession with Max Dunnett? A lot had changed in the four years I was away for college.

  I gave him a tight-lipped smile and then gave Abigail a less cringey one
. No need to greet her boyfriend. I knew Abigail; it would rub her the wrong way.

  When I didn’t make a move to shake his hand, he gave me a curious look. Then his eyes roamed my body. Oh boy. I felt his gaze as if it were a feather-light touch on my skin. When he reached my shoes, he smiled. I looked down to see what was so funny. Right. I had paint on my Chucks. Whatever; that was why I was rocking an old pair today.

  Both Abigail and her boyfriend could suck it. I didn’t like judgey people, and Abigail was the worst kind of judgey. I watched Abigail lead her boyfriend away. When he turned back to look at me, there was an intensity in his gaze that almost looked like longing. I felt it deep in my soul, and that scared me. Turning around, I ran into my shop.

  It was late by the time I got home, and Abigail and her boyfriend were a long-forgotten memory. My store needed a lot of work, but I was not regretting my purchase. When I walked to the front door of my parents’ house, I was relieved they were already sleeping.

  My father lectured me on spending “his” hard-earned money on a silly dream. My family paid for what my scholarship didn’t cover for college, so my dad felt like getting a loan and using it towards a shop was wasting his money. I didn’t care because I knew my dream would pay off. But it was hard hearing them talk smack day after day. It was a little depressing to know how little faith they had in me. I went to school got a degree in business; it wasn’t like I didn’t know my left foot from my right.

  Shaking my head, I went straight to my room before either my mom or dad could come in and lecture me for coming in late again.

  My perfect job would not come to fruition if I sat on my laurels. My dreams would pay off one day…they’d see.

  Once I was settled in bed, exhausted from a day’s work, Abigail’s boyfriend came to mind. Never in my life had a man captured my attention the way he did. There was an authoritative way in which he carried himself, but there was also something gentle. That made me snort—kind and Abigail didn’t mix.

  The next morning, I got ready to go to Pete and Son’s Hardware, bright and early. I went to my easel board and erased yesterday’s quote and replaced it with one of my personal favorites by Mr. Poe. I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity. Everyone had a quirk or a thing, and mine was quotes. Things to motivate me for the day, words had the power to lift your spirits and make you soar or crush your soul. Today’s quote was me being feisty. I knew my mother was bound to snoop later on today to tidy up my room, so she’d get a kick out of that. For today’s outfit, I picked pink Chucks that went well with my black shorts and matching pink ruffled shirt.

  On my way to the store, I made myself an espresso and the idea that Sunny Pines needed coffee cemented itself even more. I was pretty sure that was why I got the loan. I could provide a business that could help the town grow with the tourism plans they had.

  Jake Carson was in the shop that morning instead of his father. It had been so long since I last saw him. Back in high school, I used to have one class with him my freshman year, and I thought he was the dreamiest guy ever. Though I think he had a thing for Juliet Dunnett. Most guys did, even though she was a sophomore, but she was rich and gorgeous, and kind of a snob too. But I remember she was the only one who sent me a candy gram. So, she couldn't be all that bad, right? Jake was working on stocking the shelves, and he was still handsome. Light brown hair and blue eyes, yes, please. Although brown hair and chocolate eyes wasn’t a bad combination either.

  Jesus! That guy was Abigail's boyfriend. Why was I having such a hard time remembering that? And I’d watched Abigail through the years; she always got what she wanted. Except for Max Dunnett. She didn't get Max. His heart belonged to Freya Pratt. Even though she left town, I was pretty sure she took a part of him with her. He used to be the sweetest boy ever, nice and caring, and now he was a drunken mess.

  “Excuse me,” I held on to my coffee tumbler as I said hello to Jake Carson. He turned around, looked me over, and gave me a smile.

  “I feel like I know you,” he said, like he wasn’t quite placing who I was.

  I didn’t blame him; I was usually quiet as a mouse. Same thing in college. I had a boyfriend who dumped me and then started dating the girl in the dorm room next to mine. It was not fun listening to them at night. I didn’t let that bring me down. One door closes, and another opens. Right?

  I always planned to come back home and do something with my life here. This town might be small, but it was home.

  "I'm Emma Miller," I rushed out when I noticed I hadn't spoken, and he was looking at me. "We had art class together." And because I was an idiot, I added, "You used to sit with Juliet Dunnett, and when you switched seats, I sat with her."

  I regretted my decision because as soon as I said Juliet Dunnett his eyes went scary dark, but not the good kind.

  Was there even a good kind when it came to scary dark?

  “You were a freshman in my senior year, right?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “You look different.”

  “Uh…thanks.” So, I’d lost some of my chubby cheeks and baby fat, but I knew I was still curvy.

  “What can I help you with?” He finished the sentence in a yawn. “Sorry. Early morning. I was running late and didn’t get my coffee fix.”

  At the mention of coffee, I brought my thermos up like Rafiki did with Simba. Jake stared at me like I was a weirdo, which I kind of was.

  “I have coffee. Do you have a cup?” I asked.

  He eyed my thermos and then me, and he gave me a pointer finger for me to hold on and headed back to the office. While I waited for him, the bell chimed, and I hoped Jake came back soon. I needed my new paint pronto.

  “I guess what they say about small towns is true, huh?”

  My skin got goosebumps at that voice. I told myself it was because Abigail scared me, and I didn’t want to make friends with her boyfriend. His comment irked me the wrong way too — what a snob! Small towns weren’t bad. I turned around.

  “What do they say about small towns?” I bit out.

  Oh, Lord. Oh, lordy Lord.

  He was even more handsome today than he was yesterday, but that could have been because he didn’t have a hag hanging off his arm today. He was wearing black jeans, white Vans, and a white tee.

  I snapped my eyes to his face when I noticed I was checking him out. My cheeks grew warm when I realized he was doing the same. His eyes traveled down my body again.

  “Are you always this aggressive?” he asked, a smirk pulling at his lips.

  Me, aggressive? No one had ever described me like that before.

  “I’m not aggressive,” I said almost defensively, and thanked my lucky stars when Jake came back with a mug in his hand.

  “Okay, sorry, I took a few,” he told me, then looked at Abigail’s boyfriend. “I’ll be right with you.”

  Unzipping the lid from my thermos, I was aware that I had two sets of male eyes on me. Something, I might add, that had never happened to me before.

  Awkward.

  “Here. It’s nothing too fancy, and I usually like mine on the sweet side, so I’m sorry if it’s too sugary,” I rambled as I handed Jake his coffee.

  “Anything you make is probably better than what they have at the convenience store. That place is shit,” he said.

  2

  Dex

  I watched the curvy blonde as she poured coffee from her yellow thermos into the shop owner’s mug.

  Looking at her, I had to stop the urge to wrap my fingers around her bouncy golden locks and pull her to me so I could kiss her. She was about the only good thing this small town had going on. Too bad I had a feeling she didn’t like me, and that feeling was related to my “new” snobby cousin.

  If Abigail weren’t family, I would have called her a bitch. But she was family, and her family was ready to greet my father with “open” arms.

  "Anything is better than convenience coffee," Goldilocks mumbled.

  She tried to be slick when
she turned back to look at me, but I caught her eye and winked at her. She turned right back to stare at the guy on the counter.

  “Fuck me!” he yelled, making her jump back and making me take a step forward. “You made this?”

  She nodded, her curls bouncing with her head.

  “I’m opening a coffee shop,” she said in a soft tone, and even I could hear the pride in her voice.

  “The place down the street?”

  The shop owner immediately knew what building she was referring to. Yesterday I had to put up with my cousin whining about not being able to open her boutique for an hour. Apparently, dressing the “poor” people and saving them from their horrible taste in clothes was more important than a coffee shop to her.

  “Harold gave me the keys three days ago.” She smiled, a real smile this time.

  Fuck me sideways. She had dimples. That was when my eyes went to the other guy and noticed he was checking her out. Except Blondie was too innocent to realize he was doing it. I stepped forward, trying to protect her.

  It was my duty, after all.

  “That’s why you had a Frappuccino keychain? I couldn’t read what it said.” I interrupted their conversation and gave the other guy a look.

  She turned to me and gave me a tense smile.

  “Emma’s Coffee,” she said. “That’s what my placed is called.”

  “Why Emma?” I asked, wanting to know more about her.

  “That’s her name,” the other guy answered.

  I turned to look at him while Emma was busy looking down at the floor. I didn’t like that he finished the sentence for her. I didn’t like that she kept lowering her gaze from mine. Most of all, I didn’t like that I couldn’t touch her. She wasn’t giving me an inch.