Falling For The Wrong Guy: A Holiday Junction Sweet Romance Read online

  Falling For The Wrong Guy

  A Holiday Junction Sweet Romance

  Tami Franklin

  Copyright © T.M. Franklin, 2019

  Published by Calava Press

  The right of T.M. Franklin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover images by: stock.adobe.com, © Markomarcello

  Cover design by: Tami Franklin

  Visit the Author’s Web Site at

  www.TMFranklin.com

  They don’t even like each other…so how could they ever fall in love?

  Between raising her smart, sassy daughter and starting her own architecture firm, the last thing on Abigail Harper's mind is a relationship. Especially one with the immature owner of the local pub, who’s hired her to design his expansion.

  Braden McKenna loves his fun and carefree life as the owner of the town watering hole, the Shamrock. And being in close proximity to the uptight architect revamping the pub only solidifies his desire to stay single. Abby is . . . complicated, and Braden doesn’t do complicated.

  But Abby’s daughter thinks Braden might be just what her mother needs. And when she teams up with Holiday Junction’s group of meddling matchmakers, Abby and Braden might undergo a renovation of the romantic variety.

  Can they both stop stubbornly clinging to their independence long enough to give love a shot?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Special Thanks

  Also by Tami Franklin

  About the Author

  “I’m dying.”

  “You’re not dying.”

  “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

  Abigail Harper stifled a sigh as she leaned against her daughter’s bedroom door frame. “You’re ten,” she said. “You’re not having a heart attack.”

  Joey lay sprawled over her messy bed, head hanging over the edge and her red hair brushing the carpet as she looked upside-down at her mother. “Maybe I have amoebic dysentery.”

  Surprised, Abby snorted out a laugh. “Do you even know what that is?”

  Joey shrugged, still upside down. “Not really,” she admitted, lifting her legs to point her toes at the ceiling, two band-aids crisscrossed on one of her knobby knees. “I just thought it sounded cool. Ameeeeobic dyssssentery,” she said, drawing out the words.

  Abby shook her head and entered the room, nimbly dodging piles of discarded clothes, books, and various craft supplies. “Well, cool or not, amoebic dysentery isn’t going to get you out of cleaning your room,” she said. “Get up.”

  Joey let out an aggravated groan and tipped her legs forward, rolling over her head and landing on her feet. With the drama at this level now, Abby couldn’t imagine what it would be like when the girl hit the teen years.

  “I don’t understand why.” Joey threw up her hands. “It’s just going to get messy again.”

  “So you’ll clean it . . . again.” Abby tapped her on the nose. The girl fought a smile for about two seconds before it slowly spread across her face, her eyes lighting up. The smile evoked more joy than pain these days, which Abby was grateful for. While her daughter was a smaller version of Abby in almost every way—the wild red hair, the hazel eyes and tipped-up, freckled nose—her wide, slightly crooked smile was all Daniel’s. For years, it would bring tears to Abby’s eyes, sparking a wave of grief so deep and sharp she could hardly breathe.

  But now, five years since Daniel left them—was taken from them—Abby was able to see her husband’s smile on her daughter’s face and smile back.

  “Tell you what,” Abby said, glancing at the cat-shaped clock on the wall. “If you get this place presentable in thirty minutes, we’ll go for ice cream.”

  “Really?” Joey bounced on her toes. “Can I get a Colossal?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Joanna.”

  She made a face at her full name. “How about a regular sundae with hot fudge and peanut butter?”

  Abby considered it. “Okay. If you’re done in twenty-five.”

  Joey grabbed a pile of clothes, suddenly enthusiastic about clean-up time. “Deal.”

  Abby left the room, feeling like maybe she’d been had.

  Hanging on the wall outside the door was her favorite picture of Daniel. Although most people preferred the official Army photograph on the fireplace mantle in the living room, standing proudly next to the folded American flag, Abby thought this one was truer to her Daniel, the fun-loving, generous man who would do anything for his little girl.

  The picture was taken at Joey’s fifth birthday party—only days before he shipped out for the last time—and Daniel held his daughter in his arms, Abby leaning in from the other side to kiss her cheek. Joey wore a birthday hat and a smudge of blue frosting on her nose, and Daniel had a red foil bow on his head from one of the presents. He wore a wide smile—Joey’s smile—as he looked at the camera, his blue eyes twinkling like he could see right out of the frame.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Abby said. “It’s not bribery. It’s . . . incentive.” She could almost hear Daniel’s reply, although his voice was growing quieter, lately.

  “Yeah, well, she’s ten,” she said. “Sometimes a mom has to be creative to get things done. And a little ice cream never hurt anyone.”

  “What, Mom?” Joey called.

  “Nothing!” she replied, before pressing her fingertips to her lips, then to the photograph, and heading into the kitchen.

  * * *

  Summer was probably Abby’s favorite time of the year in Holiday Junction. Sure, winter had its attractions, with the snow, sparkling Christmas lights, and sleigh rides. Autumn had the changing leaves, hot cider, and haunted houses. Even spring with its bright colors, abundant flowers, and Easter egg hunts had its appeal.

  But summer . . . summer was a respite from waking up early for school and scrambling in the afternoons to soccer practice and piano lessons and Sunshine Scouts meetings. Summer in HJ was lazy days and sun, swimming in the lake . . . picnics and camping. And, of course, ice cream. Abby may have pretended like this little jaunt was all for Joey, but Abby needed a break, too. She’d been working a lot lately—had more she probably should have been doing at that moment—but it was Sunday. It was hot. And she’d vowed a long time ago to be there for Joey when she needed her. Today, that meant a break for ice cream, even though summer still hadn’t officially begun.

  Early June was a transitional period, decoration-wise, for the town. The red, white, and blue for Memorial Day was coming down as Abby navigated her car down Main Street, making way for Father’s Day preparations, although it’d be back shortly after for the Fourth of July. A banner already hung across the gazebo in the town square, advertising the Father’s Day Tournament of Champions, a three-legged-race, pie-eating-c
ontest-type extravaganza with multiple events and a large silver trophy for the winners. Blue, green, and black was the color scheme for dads, apparently, with an abundance of ties, golf clubs, fishing tackle, and various other things dad’s stereotypically enjoyed arranged artfully in storefront windows, along with smaller displays for the upcoming Holiday Junction High School graduation.

  Abby passed a man on a ladder checking a section of twinkle lights that weren’t lighting up and stopped to allow two others carrying boxes of bunting to cross the street in front of her.

  “Is every town like this?” Joey asked, craning her neck to watch a woman attach miniature striped neckties to a large tree.

  “No town is like this,” Abby said with a laugh. “Holiday Junction is a little piece of heaven.”

  “You always say that.” Joey rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked in a smile.

  “That’s because it’s true.” Abby checked both ways carefully before proceeding down the road. “Besides, where else in the world can you get ice cream better than McKenna’s?”

  Joey’s eyes widened, like the idea of going anywhere where McKenna’s Creamery wasn’t within driving distance was a fate worse than death.

  “I’m never leaving,” she said firmly, and Abby laughed.

  “Me neither.”

  The warm weather made the ice cream shop a popular spot, and cars lined the road in front of McKenna’s, forcing Abby to park a block away. Awnings blocked the heat of the sun, making the walk down the flower-pot lined sidewalk comfortable, a gentle breeze lifting Abby’s hair away from her face. She felt content, satisfied. Her architecture business was finally taking off, and Joey was happy, with many friends and activities to keep her busy. Abby loved her home, the town and her neighbors, and even the ache of missing Daniel had lessened to a gentle tug, no longer a stabbing pain that threatened to drive her to her knees.

  Life was good.

  As they neared McKennna’s Creamery, Abby was surprised to see the Chief of Police, Gage Turner, putting the finishing touches on a towering plywood bear wearing a green and white striped tie over a t-shirt reading Try the BEAR-y Cobbler Cone. He was holding the hand of a smaller bear—his son, apparently, if the matching t-shirt, printed with My dad says it’s PAWS-itively delicious! was any indication.

  Chief Turner stood as Abby approached, a paintbrush in one hand and a smudge of green paint on his cheek. “Hello, Abby. Joey. What do you think?” He nodded toward the bears.

  “Looks great,” Abby replied. “Do you come up with the puns all on your own?”

  The chief grinned. “Not always, but this one’s all mine,” he said, frowning slightly. “Not sure if I should be proud or embarrassed of that fact.”

  Joey’s nose wrinkled as she read the advertisement. “Does it really have bear in it?” she asked doubtfully.

  Chief Turner kept a straight face. “Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

  “Not really.” She hurried to add, “But if you like bear, I guess that’s okay.”

  The chief laughed. “It’s only a play on words, sweetie,” he said. “It’s actually got blackberries and blueberries in it. Plus some candied nuts and little cookie pieces.”

  “Ohh,” Joey said, drawing out the word as the dots connected. “I get it.” She laughed at the pun. “That sounds good, but I think I’m still going to get a sundae with hot fudge and peanut butter.”

  “Good choice.” The chief leaned down toward her, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Got a tip for you. Braden’s in there helping out. You get him instead of Lena and I bet he’ll give you an extra scoop.” He winked at her, and Joey beamed.

  “Awesome!”

  Abby’s stomach took a little dive at the mention of Braden McKenna. And she’d been in such a good mood.

  “Why’s Braden working here?” she asked, perhaps a little more sourly than she’d intended.

  “Busy day,” Chief Turner straightened, and added a touch of paint to the bear’s tie. “I think he just likes to hang out and eat ice cream. Who doesn’t?” He smirked. “But Lena could use the help since Mrs. Katswopis is on a cruise this week.”

  “She’s on a cruise?” Mrs. Katswopis was an older woman who’d worked in the Creamery for years . . . decades. As long as Abby could remember, at least. “Where’d she go?”

  The chief shrugged. “Somewhere in the Caribbean,” he said. “Went with a group of ladies from the senior center.”

  “Mom?” Joey tugged on her sleeve, shifting from one foot to the other. “Can we go in now?”

  Abby turned and caught sight of Braden through the front window. He was dipping a double-scoop cone and laughing at something. He handed the cone to a blonde woman Abby didn’t recognize—probably a tourist, since she knew pretty much everyone. He leaned against the counter, smiling at the woman flirtatiously.

  “Mom?”

  She blinked. “Sure, honey. Go ahead and order. I’ll be there in a minute.” Abby needed a moment to prepare herself for dealing with Braden. He laughed again, dark eyes sparkling and muscles bulging in a too-tight t-shirt. Why couldn’t the guy buy clothes that fit properly? And why was everyone else in town so easily charmed by him?

  She knew the answer, of course. Braden McKenna was the life of the party. It had always been that way, even before he took over running the town’s Irish pub, the Shamrock. And it was even worse now. He was the bartender with the million-watt smile who played in an Irish band and flirted with anything in a skirt. How could anyone resist?

  Well, anyone but Abby.

  Everyone loved Braden, and Abby didn’t understand why she was the only one to see what a conceited jerk he was. Or maybe he was only like that to her. Sometimes, she had to admit, it felt like it.

  “Nice kid you got there,” Chief Turner said, drawing her attention from thoughts of Braden McKenna.

  “Thanks.” She shoved back a thick lock of her unruly hair. “I have to agree with you, although I might be a bit biased.” Abby turned her attention back to the bears with a smile. “This is really nice of you to do for Lena.”

  The chief rubbed the back of his neck, two spots of color appearing on his cheeks. He was relatively new in town—had only been the chief of police for a few months—but it hadn’t taken long for he and Lena McKenna to become an item. Only recently had the gossip wound down as people found other things to talk about. That was one thing about Holiday Junction—everybody knew everything about everybody else.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “It’s actually kind of fun.” His eyes drifted to the shop’s front window—or rather, through it—to where Lena had taken up a spot next to her brother. His gaze was soft. Thoughtful.

  Lena recognized that look. She’d seen it on Daniel’s face a hundred times. A pang of longing—of loneliness—poked her in the heart. It had been a long time since she’d been looked at like that, and most likely it would never happen again.

  Fighting an audible sigh, she said, “Well, I better get in there. Nice talking to you, Chief. Can’t wait to see what you have planned for the Fourth.”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  He turned back to his project and Abby steeled herself, squaring her shoulders before she walked into the Creamery, head held high.

  * * *

  “Hot fudge and peanut butter sauce,” Joey Harper told Braden gravely, as if daring him to challenge her order. The kid was cute. Smart, too. And even at only ten years old, she was someone Braden didn’t want to mess with.

  Just like her mother.

  Braden avoided looking out the window, where he knew he’d see Abby Harper chatting with the chief. He’d caught sight of her right away. That fiery hair was hard to miss, after all.

  Braden heard the bell ring merrily over the door, but didn’t look up.

  “You sure you can handle both?” he asked Joey instead. “That’s an awful lot for such a tiny person.”

  Joey, bless her, drew herself up to her full height—all four and a half feet of i
t—and looked him straight in the eye.

  “I can handle it,” she said. “You don’t have to be humongous to eat ice cream, you know.” She had her fists on her hips in challenge.

  “Are you calling me humongous?” he asked. “‘Cause . . . thanks.” He flexed a bicep and grinned. His sister, Lena, snorted and went back into the kitchen.

  Braden could tell Joey was trying not to smile, but she lost the battle. Giggling, she said, “You’re so weird.”

  “You’re so weird,” he retorted.

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  “Am not!”

  “If you’re both finished.” Abby appeared at the counter, but avoided Braden’s gaze. “Maybe we can get our ice cream.”

  “It’s his fault,” Joey said, pointing at Braden.

  “Is not!” he replied, lips quirking.

  “Is too!”

  “Is not times infinity!”

  Joey burst out laughing and Braden couldn’t help but join in as he dished up her sundae. The kid was a lot of fun. In that way, she was nothing like her mother. Even at Joey’s age, Abby had been quiet. Serious. Aloof. Like she thought she was above everyone else.

  It only got worse as she got older. And even now, it still drove him crazy.

  “One hot fudge and peanut butter sundae with an extra scoop and extra cherries.” He slid the bowl across the counter to a wide-eyed Joey. “You drive a hard bargain, kid.” He winked at her and she giggled, picking up her sundae and carrying it carefully to the door. She smiled at a man who held it open for her and she made her way to one of the small tables outside under the awning.