• Home
  • Brighton Walsh
  • Pact with a Heartbreaker: A Best Friends to Lovers Summer Romance (Havenbrook Book 3)

Pact with a Heartbreaker: A Best Friends to Lovers Summer Romance (Havenbrook Book 3) Read online




  PACT WITH A HEARTBREAKER

  BRIGHTON WALSH

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2019 by Brighton Walsh

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not 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.

  * * *

  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC

  * * *

  Cover Art © Lori Jackson Designs

  * * *

  Pact with a Heartbreaker is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  Mackenna Haven is desperate to leave Havenbrook, Mississippi behind. After spending her whole life under the thumb of her overbearing father, she's ready for the freedom college will bring. Especially if that freedom means spending more time with her best friend…and unrequited love.

  Hudson Miller's been the man of the house since his dad died nearly ten years ago. The only escape he has from those responsibilities is the stolen moments when he’s with Kenna. As much as he wants to tell her he’s been in love with her for years, the red X looming on his calendar could change everything between them.

  A week before school starts, Hudson proposes a trip away with Mackenna as one last weekend together before college responsibilities creep in. Except it could be one last weekend together, period. Because the secret he's been keeping from her could tear them apart forever.

  SIGN UP FOR BRIGHTON’S NEWSLETTER and receive a free copy of The Neighbor! Being part of the newsletter also unlocks your access to exclusive content and giveaways! Click here or go to brightonwalsh.com/newsletter.

  JOIN HER FACEBOOK GROUP, Brighton’s Brigade, where shenanigans are had on the regular and you get in on exclusive giveaways as well as sneak peeks at future books.

  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

  Second Chance Charmer Excerpt

  Other Titles By Brighton Walsh

  Have you read London Hale?

  About the Author

  August 2009

  August in Mississippi was unbearable. But after living in Havenbrook her whole life, Mackenna Haven had learned what was worth suffering the heat for. And the single night of entertainment their tiny town put on that she and her friends wouldn’t roll their eyes at? Well, that was worth all the boob sweat in the world. Which meant she’d be down at the high school football field tonight, enjoying the monthly movie night along with nearly every other resident, heat be damned. The only difference between her and everyone else? This would be her last time.

  Come next week, she was finally getting out of her tiny hometown, and she wasn’t sure she was ever coming back.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d felt stifled by Havenbrook and the people in it. Everyone knew everyone else, and everyone was in everyone else’s business—and that only went double for a Haven. It was exhausting.

  She never could understand her eldest sister’s need to put down roots here. Rory couldn’t get back fast enough—so much so, Mac was surprised she’d even gone away to college in the first place. But as soon as Rory had graduated, she and her college sweetheart came right back to good old Havenbrook and settled down. Bought a house and had already started on their way to that two-point-five kid average.

  But Mac? She wasn’t sure she could think of anything more awful than coming back once she finally escaped.

  How important their hometown was to their family had been beaten into her and her three sisters’ heads from as far back as she could remember—after all, they put the Haven in Havenbrook. But as near as Mac could tell, Rory was the only one it’d actually gotten through to. Mac’s older sister and one of her best friends, Willow, had had plans to leave and never look back. Head to Nashville for art school. But then Will’s no-good, lying bastard of a boyfriend up and bailed without a word shortly before they were meant to leave together. Mac was just glad Willow’d gone off anyway—a different, closer school, sure, but at least she’d left.

  And her younger sister, Natalie? That girl would need to be hog-tied if you expected her to stay put anywhere. It’d be a damned miracle if their momma and daddy could keep her in Havenbrook long enough to graduate high school. Nat was born to fly, and she talked about all the places she wanted to visit and explore every chance she got.

  All Mac knew was once she headed off to MSU next week, it was going to be a hard feat getting her back to Havenbrook for short breaks, let alone any extended period of time.

  “Mac, you ready?” Will asked as she poked her head into the bedroom they shared. “Daddy says if we’re goin’, we gotta take Nat with us, ’cause he’ll be busy interactin’ with everyone.”

  “I think you mean bullshittin’. And ’course we do.” Mac rolled her eyes. She and Will both knew exactly what that meant. Nat would escape them the first chance she got, and then they’d be blamed for her recklessness. “It’s like Daddy just looks for ways to get on our cases. He and Momma can’t control her, so I don’t know why he thinks we can.”

  “You know Daddy—always the optimist.”

  Mac snorted as she followed Will into the hallway and down the staircase. Their daddy could be called a lot of things, but optimist most certainly wasn’t one.

  “’Bout time y’all got down here,” Nat said, her fifteen-year-old attitude ringing loud and clear in the tone of her voice. “Been waitin’ for years.”

  “Shut up, Nat.”

  “Girls!” their daddy snapped. Never did have any tolerance for them fighting—in or out of the house. Anything that put on less than a perfect show simply wasn’t allowed in the Haven household. “I expect y’all to be home before curfew. Since you’re takin’ Nat, that means eleven o’clock.”

  Mac’s mouth dropped open at the same time Will’s snapped shut. Yep, just like always, she’d be fighting this one on her own. But dammit, she was eighteen years old, and next week, she’d be living on her own. Why in the world did she have a curfew? “You can’t be serious, Daddy.”

  “Do I look like I’m jokin’, young lady?”

  A thousand retorts flew through Mac’s head. But, just like always, that was exactly where they stayed. Without another word, she spun on her heels, whipped open the door, and stormed out into the thick blanket of heat and humidity.

  Mac tried to keep a lid on her anger, but the three of them weren’t even to the end of their front walk before she exploded, turning an accusing finger toward Will. “Why don’t you ever say anything? You do whatever he wants without thinkin’ twice. You just turned twenty, for cryin’ out loud, and you think it’s okay that you need to be home by eleven? What are we, thirteen?”

  Will just shrugged. “Not worth gettin’ worked up about it. Next week, it won’t matter anyway. We’ll be at school, and we can stay out until three in the mornin’ if we want. Daddy can’t do anything
about it then.”

  “He could if I told him,” Nat taunted.

  “Shut up!” Mac and Willow snapped at the same time.

  “Y’all know I’m just playin’.” Nat grinned at them as they continued their trek toward the football field. “At least y’all get to leave. I’m stuck here for another three years.”

  “That’s because you’re fifteen,” Willow said. “Gotta at least finish high school before you run off somewhere exotic.”

  Nat skipped ahead, then twisted around to face them as she walked backward, her eyes bright with excitement. “Maybe so, but as soon as that diploma’s in my hand, I’m outta here, and I’m not lookin’ back.”

  “Why’d you even wanna come tonight?” Mac asked. “You hate movie nights. In fact, you hate anything Havenbrook.”

  Nat spun back around, her hair flying behind her, and continued forward. With a snort, she said, “I’m not goin’ to the football field.” She darted her head left and right as if she were looking for something.

  “No? Where you think you’re off to, then?” Mac shot a sidelong glance at Willow, who returned her irritation. Yep, it was always the same with their baby sister.

  “Asher and Nash found this—”

  One minute, Natalie was walking in front of them, and the next, she was being hauled off over the shoulder of one of the other Three Musketeers.

  “Damn, Nat, don’t tell ’em our plans!” Asher or Nash said—Mac wasn’t sure which as the two boys took off running, Natalie laughing and flopping over a shoulder as they went.

  “Natalie Haven, you better get your butt back to the football field by 10:45! It’s your damn fault we have to be home early anyway!” Mac yelled after them, but it was no use because they were already out of sight.

  “Those three are nothin’ but trouble with a capital T.” Willow pursed her lips, looking in the direction the trio had fled.

  “No doubt. Momma and Daddy’ll get a call tonight about some nonsense they got up to, and guess who’ll get blamed for it?”

  As irritating as her younger sister was, Mac couldn’t find fault in Nat wanting to do something other than the run-of-the-mill activities Havenbrook offered. She just hoped Nat would figure out how to start hiding it from Momma and Daddy like Mac had managed to do. The trouble, though, wasn’t that Nat had a hard time concealing her activities—it was that she didn’t care if she was caught.

  “Nothing we can do about the inevitable, so we might as well enjoy ourselves in the meantime.” Will hooked her arm through Mac’s and dragged her toward the illuminated football field already swarming with people.

  Havenbrook Movie Night was always a hit, whether they held it in the Square or, when a bigger turnout was expected, on Havenbrook High’s football field. The last show before school started was always heavily attended.

  As Mac and Will strolled toward the festivities, the crowd continually expanded until they couldn’t go two steps without someone calling out a hello to “the Haven girls.” Rory lived and breathed for this kind of attention, but she was the only one of the four who did. Mac would just as soon be a nobody in the town instead of a descendant of its founder.

  “Will! Mac!” someone called from the left. “Over here!”

  It didn’t take long to find where the voice had come from. A group of their friends were sprawled out on a field of blankets off to the side of the inflatable movie screen. Will lifted her hand in a wave and guided Mac in that direction.

  “You go on,” Mac said, extricating her arm from Will’s hold. “I’ll be over in a bit. I wanna grab something from The Sweet Spot first.”

  Will gave her a knowing look, but she didn’t comment on it other than to say, “Grab me a peach cobbler if she’s still got some, will ya?”

  With a nod, Mac turned and weaved her way through the crowds, her focus on the far corner and the homemade stand that represented The Sweet Spot. The bright red booth that she’d helped paint years ago stood out among the standard Movie Night concessions. The line stretched at least a dozen people deep, but that was to be expected.

  Fortunately, she had a cut-the-line card, and she intended to use it.

  She scanned the area, her attention getting snagged by the townspeople who wanted to chat, when her eyes finally locked on the person she’d been looking for.

  Hudson Miller stood a head taller than most, his wild, unkempt hair sticking out in all directions and his eyes so dark they looked black from here. But she knew from years of up close and personal talks, they were actually a rich brown flecked with gold.

  He was working in the stand, right alongside his momma, talking about the best pies of the season as if he knew them as well as he knew his own name. And he did. Most people wouldn’t expect the former captain of the Havenbrook basketball team to know his way around a piecrust, but he was a mess of contradictions. Wilderness warrior, little-sister protector, pie baker, dare goader, fiercest competition in town…not to mention the hottest guy Mac had ever laid eyes on.

  And, by some cruel twist of fate, her best friend…the one person she could never have.

  Hudson Miller was in denial. He’d somehow managed to exist in that blissful state of everything’s gonna be okay for the past three months, even though he knew everything was absolutely not going to be okay. But he couldn’t pretend any longer. Not when the clock was ticking down, faster and faster each day as time barreled toward that bright red X on his calendar.

  He had no idea how he was going to tell anyone the secret he’d been harboring for almost a year. And now, with summer almost ending and classes starting next week, he didn’t have much time left to figure it out.

  Even less when he glanced up and spotted Mackenna heading in his direction with that purposeful, no-nonsense gait she had. The one that said she knew exactly what she wanted and she was going to get it, no matter what or who stood in her way. The one that scared away a lot of the girls in school and most of the guys—though the latter was just fine with Hudson. That’d been one good thing about being away at college the past year—he hadn’t had to watch her date other guys.

  He let the sight of her hold his attention when it should’ve been on Mrs. Parsons, who was giving him details of the dance recital her granddaughter had just performed in. But the truth was, whenever Kenna was around, not a whole lot else even registered. How did she always manage to look so gorgeous without even trying? She wore her standard summer uniform: denim cutoffs, a tank top, Converse, and no makeup—she’d told him once she didn’t want to worry about sweating it off. And still, she took his damn breath away.

  He soaked in every second he had to look at her as she strode toward him, her ponytail swishing behind her. Because God knew he couldn’t stare at her like that when she was aware of it.

  Without hesitation, she slid around the back of The Sweet Spot’s stand, a smile on her lips, and settled in beside him like she owned the place. Like beside him was exactly where she belonged.

  She bumped her hip into his—or she tried to anyway. He had more than half a foot on her, so she ended up connecting with his thigh. “I see you’re flirtin’ with Mrs. Parsons again. Gonna give that poor old woman a heart attack one of these days when you flash her those dimples.”

  “I can’t help that she likes me more than you. A lot of people like me more than you, ’specially with you cuttin’ the line.” He tugged on the end of her ponytail. “You tryin’ to cheat all these fine people out of their hard-earned goodies?”

  That drew a few chuckles from the crowd, but not from Kenna—or his momma.

  “Hudson Miller, you leave my girl alone,” his momma snapped and then turned toward Kenna, arms held out for a hug. “How you doin’ today, honey? You come to help us get caught up?”

  Kenna returned the embrace. “As long as I show up out there with a peach cobbler for Will, I can stay for a while. You haven’t sold out, have you?”

  Hudson’s momma pursed her lips and shook her head as she gestured to a box already fille
d with a variety of baked goods, peach cobbler included. She’d set it aside when they’d first arrived. “Y’all act like I’m an amateur, I swear…”

  Hudson held up his hands. “I did nothin’ of the sort, Momma. But Kenna did mention something to that effect the other day.”

  His momma slid him a glance out of the corner of her eye but otherwise ignored him.

  Couldn’t say the same for Kenna. She shoved her elbow into his ribs and only grinned when a gust of air escaped him. “Liar. You’re gonna pay for that.”

  “Oh yeah? Name it.”

  She studied him, the wheels clearly spinning in her mind. “Whoever sells the most now till y’all close wins. Loser doesn’t get any of whatever deliciousness is in the box.”

  He lowered his voice strictly as an excuse to get closer to her. “You know I can have any of this deliciousness anytime I want, right?”

  Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe I asked for any of your sass as part of the bet. Accept or pass, chicken.”

  God, he loved when she got like this. He loved everything about her, honestly, but this—this competitive spark that lit her up from the inside—drove him damn near out of his mind.

  He leaned close enough that her citrus scent invaded his senses. He’d gotten his first hard-on thanks to that scent, and now it was like a Pavlovian response any time he smelled it. He shifted, trying his damnedest not to get hard while his momma was two feet away. “With only a few days left in town, I figured you wouldn’t wanna give up one of your last chances to have some of my momma’s treats, but it’s your loss.”