Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh
Asher McCoy can win over a crowd with a husky note and a strum of his guitar, but proving to a judge he’s responsible enough to gain custody of his niece and nephew? Not so easy. His big idea—a fake marriage. And who better to play his doting bride than his longtime best friend? He just needs to get her home first...
Natalie Haven couldn’t get away from her suffocating hometown fast enough. For years, she’s fluttered around the globe as a freelance photographer. And if that unconventional job pisses off her daddy? Well, all the better. But when her best friend sends out an SOS, she heads back to the one place she swore she’d never land.
Except a fake marriage means a not-so-fake living arrangement, including only one bed. Nat's witnessed enough women fall for Asher’s charms, but she refuses to be one of them. Because permanence isn’t in her blood. Not even for him.
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If there was one thing Natalie Haven loved about her life, it was that she was under no one’s thumb. She was free to do what she pleased, when she deemed to do so. That simple fact couldn’t be overemphasized…not when she’d grown up in the Haven household and under the watchful eye of her daddy.
But she’d seen to it that Richard Haven no longer had a say in her life. Even if it had taken her halfway around the world to do so.
It’d been nearly a decade since she’d moved away, her bags already packed before the last name in her high school graduating class had even been called. She’d flown away from Havenbrook and didn’t look back. Not even once.
Or, at least, she hadn’t. But she’d been back more times in the past couple years than she had in the previous six combined. First, for her gran’s eightieth birthday party. And then because her pigheaded daddy had gone and had a heart attack—probably just to screw up her shooting schedule, knowing him.
And now, ever since that scare, she’d felt obligated to make an appearance more and more. She’d popped in a handful of times over the past few months—over the holidays, for a birthday, because she had a two-day break in her schedule. That didn’t mean she’d liked it.
It wasn’t Havenbrook’s fault, though. It was just Nat. It was how she was built. She’d hated cages since she could walk…even before. She’d started climbing out of her crib before she turned one, and she’d never stopped. And if one place in the world felt like a cage to her, it was her hometown.
Her phone rang as she packed up her gear for her upcoming shoot in the Iruya Valley during the golden hour. She glanced down at the name flashing across the screen, a wry smile tipping her lips. It wasn’t that long ago that a call from her sister Rory would have been ignored without a second thought. But, beyond all belief and rationale, the two of them had developed a sort of truce she certainly hadn’t seen coming, but Nat was inclined to let it continue, and not only because it made one of her best friends and Rory’s new beau happy.
“Never fails to make me laugh when I’m notified Miss Stick Up Her Ass is callin’,” Nat said without bothering with a hello.
“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t hand the phone over to Ava like she wanted,” Rory said dryly, referring to her eldest daughter.
Nat snorted a laugh, not feeling an ounce of the remorse her eldest sister no doubt hoped she would. “C’mon, Rory. There’re no illusions here. Your girls have already heard everything from me you’d rather they didn’t.”
An ideal, responsible adult, Nat was not. Nope. She was the fun aunt. The one her nieces could go to when they had boy—or mom—trouble. She’d commiserate and dish all the sordid details she could. And, in a few years when the time came, she’d slip them condoms and tell them all the nitty-gritty details their girlfriends—or the internet—wouldn’t bother to.
“Hence why I’m callin’ first.” Rory cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy doin’ whatever it is you do.”
“Photography, Rory. I do photography. I’m a photographer, so, yes, that’s what I do.”
“Well, your niece is officially a babysitter. She was hopin’ for some tips from you.”
Nat couldn’t hold in her bark of laughter. “Do you not like these people she’s babysittin’ for? Is that why you’re callin’ me for advice? Because I can promise you, any of my tips are not gonna be favored by parental figures.”
“Believe me, this call goes against my better judgment.”
“Love that I always know where I stand with you, sister dearest.”
“As I was sayin’…” Rory said primly. Her boyfriend and one of Nat’s best friends, Nash King, might’ve worked hard to remove that stick from her ass, but some things were lodged deep. Looked like he still had a little work cut out for him. “These are extenuating circumstances. The people she’s babysittin’ for are the Haywards, and Ava really wants to make a good first impression. I figured you might have some tips or tricks. Maybe details about a few of June and Owen’s favorite things that you wouldn’t mind passin’ along to your niece?”
Ah…it all made sense now. Just because Nat wasn’t a maternal figure didn’t mean she didn’t make exceptions for a few select miniature people. Four, to be exact.
Ava, age eleven. Niece. Daughter to Rory. Lover of dance and all things pink and sparkly. Libra, natch.
Ella, age eight. Niece. Also daughter to Rory. Adored bugs, exploring, and forging her own path. Sagittarius, through and through.
June, age four. Niece to her other best friend, Asher. This month, she was currently enamored of the circus, playing school, and baking. One hundred percent an independent Aquarius.
And, finally, Owen, the tiniest of them all at eight months. Nephew to Asher and completely mesmerized by bubbles. He was a Leo, and she couldn’t wait to see that regal leader come out in full force.
Being on the other side of the world half the time meant conversations happened whenever they were most convenient. Sometimes that came in the middle of errands or playdates or parties. And since Nat had a steel trap of a memory—her one saving grace in school—that meant even the smallest detail mentioned about these tiny people got locked up in her brain for future reference.
“I might know some things,” Nat said. “When’s she due over there?”
“Not till tomorrow night. So we’ve got plenty of time to run to the store and grab some things if we need to.”
“Well, June’s been super into—wait. Let me just talk to Ava, and then you don’t have to rehash everything I said and no doubt get it wrong.”
“Your faith in me is truly astounding. Love you, too,” Rory said flatly before passing the phone off to Ava.
Nat grinned, her smile only growing when she heard her niece’s excited voice.
“Hi, Aunt Nat!”
“Hey, you. I hear you’re entering the world of the workin’. You sure you wanna do that already?”
“Yes! I’m so excited. Thank you for helpin’ me. Will and Mac gave me some ideas, but I really wanna know what you think. I want everything to be perfect and don’t wanna mess it up.”
“You’re gonna do great. Don’t stress. There’s nothing to be nervous about. Aubrey and Nathan are awesome, and their kids are pretty great, too.”
After filling in her niece on what she figured would be sure to win her Babysitter of the Year, Nat made Ava promise to call her after the big night and tell her all about it.
While it was true that Nat had been gone from Havenbrook a long time, there were moments like this, when her whole ecosystem was going on without her, that she started to feel just a little bit homesick for the place she no longer thought of as home.
Before too long, that tinge of melancholy was overridden by a wave of excitement as ideas for her upcoming shoot fired in rapid succession in her mind. Proving, once again, that leaving Havenbrook in the rearview mirror was the best decision she ever could have made.
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Nat wokein the middle of the night to Asher’s ringtone. As always, it took her a minute to remember where she was—Iruya, Argentina—and adjust to her surroundings. Blindly, she fumbled for her phone on the nightstand and cracked open one eye to glance at the time. It was 4:26 a.m. where she was, which meant almost 2:30 in Nashville.
Middle-of-the-night calls weren’t anything new for her and Asher. With their lifestyles, they were pretty much a prerequisite, seeing as he often didn’t get home until three in the morning or later when he had a gig, and she was almost certainly in another time zone, if not halfway around the world. That meant finding time to connect was challenging, so exceptions had to be made.
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous about that meetin’ with the label tomorrow,” Nat mumbled, her voice scratchy from disuse.
“Nat…”
At the mere sound of Asher’s voice, she jolted up in bed, her senses on high alert. She’d known this man for over twenty years, and, as such, she knew his every tone. Knew how he sounded when he was excited, when he was exhausted…when he was nervous or indifferent or stressed. Knew his mad voice, his apprehensive voice, his cynical voice.
She’d never heard him sound like this.
“What’s wrong?” Her heart seized, and she could barely choke out her next words. “Is it Nash? Is he okay?”
Nash had been her best friend since their first day of preschool. The two of them had been inseparable since then, and when Asher moved to town in first grade, the two took him into their fold—actually, more accurately, Nat informed Asher he didn’t have a choice but to be their friend because their names were all so similar. And from that moment on, it’d been the three of them against the world.
“No, it’s—” He broke off before clearing his throat, his voice still rough and low. Weak. “It’s my sister.”
“Aubrey?” Nat didn’t know if it was the hour, or that she had been woken from a dead sleep, or that she’d been running on nothing more than adrenaline and coffee for days while she’d been here, but none of this was making any sense. A brief memory of Ava calling to ask about June and Owen flickered in her mind. That was right—Ava had been scheduled to babysit. Was that last night? Days got all jumbled and tended to run into each other whenever she was traveling.
“There was an accident,” Asher said, his tone all wrong. “Sheriff Halsey called ’cause I’m Aubrey’s emergency contact. She must’ve listed me after Dad and Momma died. Even if I don’t live in Havenbrook anymore, I’m the closest…”
“Wait, just slow down. I don’t understand. The closest for what?”
“I need to get there. June and Owen…your sister’s stayin’ with them for now, but they’re gonna be so scared when they wake up and their parents—” Asher’s voice cracked on the last word, and Nat felt the urge to go to him as clearly as if there were a string as strong as steel tied to them both, tugging her back. “I’m packin’ a bag, and then I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry. I know it’s late. I just needed to call you.” His voice was watery, and there was no denying his tears now.
With every word he spoke, Nat’s stomach sank more and more, the situation crystallizing in a way she desperately wished were a dream. A call from the sheriff. An accident. June and Owen being scared…
Realization settled deep in her gut at the same time Asher uttered a broken, “She’s gone, Nattie. Aubrey’s gone.”
Throwing back the covers, Nat leaped out of bed, her phone clutched in her hand as she listened to Asher’s near-silent cries on the other end. She didn’t say anything. What could she? Her words would be nothing but empty platitudes that wouldn’t help fill the void he was suddenly facing. So instead, she allowed him to unleash his grief without interruption and took his pain into herself, wishing she could bear this for him.
With Asher’s cries filling the empty air as she clutched the phone between her ear and shoulder, she was a tornado whipping through her room, gathering random items strewn here and there. After tossing all the clothes she could find into her suitcase, she gathered her toiletries from the tiny bathroom sink and then dumped them in, too.
In all the years she’d been traveling, she’d never once resented being so far away—not even when she’d gotten the call about her daddy’s heart attack. Somewhere, deep down, she’d known the man was too stubborn to die and she would get home with plenty of time to yell at the jackass for being so careless with his health. But this…now? Listening as the other half of her soul’s heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, she’d never been more frustrated than she was now.
She mentally calculated how long it’d take her to get to Mississippi from the remote town she was currently in that wasn’t easy to get to even with extensive planning. First, she’d have to drive six hours to the nearest big enough airport, then hope she could get an immediate flight out. Best-case scenario, she was looking at a solid twenty-four hours before she’d be in Havenbrook. Worst-case? It could be three or more days.
Regardless, it didn’t matter. If she had to max out all her credit cards…hell, even if she had to call her daddy and beg him for money—something she’d never once done in all the time she’d been on her own—she’d do either in a heartbeat if it’d get her to Asher quicker.
“I’m comin’, Ash,” she said, her voice firm thanks only to her resolve. “Just hang on a little while. I’m comin’ home.”