The Trouble With I Do (Fairhope #6) Read online

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

  Copyright © 2016 by Sarra Cannon

  ISBN: 978-1-62421-044-0

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Cover designed by Sarah Hansen @ Okay Creations

  Editing by Zoe Dawson @ Blue Moon Creative

  Formatting by Dead River Books

  http://www.deadriverbooks.com/

  The Trouble With I Do

  By Sarra Cannon

  Chapter One

  The setting sun paints gorgeous orange and pink hues across the canvas of trees that line the lake. I stand on the dock, watching the beauty of nature and wondering how everything might have been different, if it hadn’t been for that one night that sent my life spinning off course.

  It’s been over a year since the trial where I stood up against Burke Redfield and told the truth about what he’d done to me. Months since he was put behind bars. I’m supposed to be better now. Healed by the fact that someone listened and believed what I had to say.

  But some wounds cut so deep they leave scars that will never completely go away.

  Most days I’m fine. Happy, even. I’m able to forget what he took from me and how he changed me. And for the most part, I’m so grateful for those changes.

  Not because of the pain, but because of what came into my life as a result of that pain.

  If it wasn’t for Burke, I never would have left Boston before graduation. I might never have come home to Fairhope. I would never have met Knox and fallen so head over heels in love. How can I not be grateful for that?

  And yet there’s still a part of me that mourns the life I used to want. In high school, I had big dreams of getting out of this town and getting a fancy degree. Going to law school. Living in a big city, maybe. I love my life as it is now, but letting go of the future I once imagined for myself has been more difficult than I thought it would be.

  I miss those big dreams, and there are days when I feel trapped between the past and my reality. I want so badly to be the person everyone expects me to be, but when it comes to truly knowing who I am now, I’m lost.

  And as much as I love Knox, I’m learning that happiness and fulfillment can’t completely come from another person. He loves me, but he cannot heal me. He cannot wipe away the shame or the sadness and make me whole again. He is part of my journey, but there is more work to be done, and I know I’m the only one who can do it.

  I take a deep breath and inhale the fresh scent of fall. It’s still warm outside, but there are hints of cooler weather on the horizon.

  I like to stand out here and watch the sun both rise and set through the trees on opposite sides of the lake. There’s a calming rhythm to it, and I love the fact that each day is never quite the same as the last. In the winter, the trees are mostly bare, their leaves blanketing the forest floor. Light pours through them as the cool wind whips my face and stings my dry eyes. On spring days, the trees are lush and full and singing of the summer to come, the deep green of the leaves so fresh and new and full of life.

  It might sound strange, but I feel like I’m on the edge of understanding myself when I’m out here. I feel an intense connection with these woods and the water that flows from this lake to the river and down toward the ocean. I love that change is the only truth out here. I love that this place has no expectations of me. I can be myself, flaws and all. It’s as if nature understands me in ways most people can’t.

  Some days are like spring for me, nothing but the sun on my face and gratitude and growth in my heart. Those days are beautiful, and I feel motivated and full of energy. On those days, nothing can bring me down or stop my heart from being hopeful.

  But other days, I am stripped bare of any armor, standing naked in the face of my sorrow. On those days, even the sun can’t warm me completely.

  Today has been one of those days, even though nothing in particular has happened to make me feel this way. My mind is pulling me back to the past, and I feel helpless to fight against it.

  Today, although it’s only September, I am winter inside.

  Knox will be home soon, and I’m supposed to be dressed and ready to go to a pre-opening party for Rob’s Bar and Grille. We’ve all been working like mad to transform Knox’s uncle’s bar, and I’ve been looking forward to this party all week, but I need these last few moments of sunlight and solitude before I rejoin the human race.

  I close my eyes and lift my chin slightly, letting what’s left of the sun warm my face. A tear escapes and travels down my cheek, finally falling and landing somewhere on the wooden dock at my feet. I wish that I could be normal and happy and summer all day, every day. I know everyone expects me to put the pain in the rearview mirror and move forward, and believe me, I want that, too.

  Some days are just harder than others.

  It’s not an easy thing to explain to people who haven’t been through the kinds of things I’ve been through. I’m afraid it makes me look weak when I desperately want to be strong. My pain lives inside my joy. My past lingers in the shadows, dancing with this new future I’m building, and each day is a struggle to bring them into balance.

  The familiar sound of tires on the dirt path leading to the house pulls me from my thoughts, and I wipe the tears from my cheeks. I say a silent prayer of gratitude for this moment and for the man who will soon walk down to join me by the water.

  My life is not at all how I planned or expected it to be, but I’m so grateful to be standing exactly where I am in this moment. I am a work in progress. I am a participant in the journey.

  And for now, that’s enough.

  Chapter Two

  I step onto the back porch of my mother’s childhood home and catch sight of Leigh Anne on the dock by the water. Like most days when the sun is low in the sky, I knew I would find her out here.

  I try not to disturb this quiet time. She seems to need it, and I respect that.

  When she turns to look at me, she smiles, but I can see the sadness and the faraway look in her eyes that I’ve come to associate with this time of day. How I wish I could wrap my arms around her and slay whatever demons still haunt her.

  “Hey,” she says, walking toward me. “How was your day?”

  I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. “It was good,” I say. “We finished the work at the old Johnson house, finally.”

  “How did it turn out?” she asks.

  “Better than we thought,” I say. “If you want, I’ll swing you by there tomorrow so you can see the finished product. The new family won’t be moving in for another week or two.”

  “I’m sure they’re going to love it,” she says.

  She’s been my biggest cheerleader when it comes to the restoration projects I’ve taken on lately. She knows the idea of branching out and starting my own business terrifies me, but she also pushes me to keep going.

  “You about ready to head out?” I ask.

  “I need about fifteen minutes to get changed and fix my makeup,” she says. “Do you mind?”

  “Take all the time you need,” I say. “I talked to Jo earlier and she said everything is ready to go. Most people won’t be getting there until about eight, so we have a little time. I’d love to grab a shower and change, too, honestly.”

  We walk together into the house, our hands entwined. Whatever melancholy she was feeling out there on the dock seems to have been lifted for now, and although I’m grateful, I also hope she knows that she doe
sn’t always have to try to be so strong around me. I hope she knows I love her just as much, if not more, on days like this.

  “I’m going to make some coffee while you shower, then,” she says. “I could use a pick-me-up.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I say. “Make me a cup, too.”

  I squeeze her hand and head toward the bedroom, while she goes into the kitchen to start a fresh pot.

  I make sure she’s occupied and close the bedroom door. Quietly, I walk to the closet and reach high up on the top shelf for the small bag I’ve hidden there. I pull it down, check to make sure the door is still closed, and peek inside for the black box.

  Carefully, I open the box and stare at the diamond ring inside. I had it custom made for her months ago, but we’ve both been so busy that I haven’t found the perfect time to give it to her yet. I have no reason to believe she won’t say yes, but I still feel nervous just looking at the ring.

  It’s a huge step forward for us. For me.

  I haven’t exactly had the best examples of marriage and happily-ever-after in my own family, and no matter how much I want this life for Leigh Anne and myself, there’s a part of me that worries I’m not good enough for her. Am I really going to be able to give her the life she deserves?

  When I left Chicago and moved back to Fairhope, I made the decision to have a quiet life here. I decided to be authentic and to never apologize for who I was or run away from myself the way I did after my mother died.

  Instead, I think I was running away from the world, thinking that I could hide out here in this small town. I pictured a simple life where I would work at my uncle’s bar, fix up my mom’s childhood home, and live a quiet life alone.

  But everything changed when I met Leigh Anne. I simply couldn’t resist her.

  She makes me want to be so much more. She’s a natural dreamer, still trying to figure out what she wants out of life, and I don’t want to rush her or cage her in if she wants something different than the simple life I pictured for us in this town.

  I know she used to want nothing more than to get the hell out of Fairhope. Will she be happy here with me?

  I sigh and close the box, putting it back into the bag and tucking it away on the top shelf.

  The truth is, even if she does want something different, I can’t imagine a life without her by my side.

  The door opens, and I flinch as she walks in.

  “Hey, I thought you were jumping in the shower,” she says, glancing at the closet.

  I quickly grab a shirt off the nearest hanger and toss it onto the bed. “I am,” I say, my heart racing. That was too close. I don’t want anything to ruin the surprise. “I’ll just be a couple minutes.”

  She laughs and rolls her eyes as she sets a steaming cup of fresh coffee on the nightstand. “Hurry up. We can’t afford to be late. Jo will kill us,” she says. She walks over and helps to pull my shirt up over my head. She wraps her warm arms around me, her cold hands flat against my skin, and leans in for a kiss.

  “I love you, Knox Warner,” she says, resting her cheek against my chest for a moment.

  “I love you, too,” I say.

  And I realize in that moment that no matter what the future holds for us, no matter what kind of life we decide we want, we will figure it out together. I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman, and I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for.

  I smile as I get into the shower, knowing that very soon, I’m going to finally give her that ring and ask her to be mine.

  Chapter Three

  There are already a few cars parked in the brand new parking lot of Rob’s Bar and Grille by the time we get there. I grab Knox’s hand and smile as we approach the building.

  His cousin Jo had to work her ass off to raise the money to build a restaurant addition onto the old bar, and our whole summer has been dedicated to getting the place ready. I can hardly believe the grand opening is almost here, and I can’t wait to see how everything looks inside.

  The renovations took a couple months longer than Jo anticipated, but it’s finally finished. Tonight is a sort of practice run of next week’s grand opening where the cooks and servers will get to test out the menus and get into the rhythm of having guests after weeks of training. Jo invited about fifty people to be here tonight at six-thirty, but she reserved a special table for her closest friends and family at eight so that we could have the place mostly to ourselves.

  I was up here a few days ago helping with the last-minute touches of decorating and setting up chairs, but I’m excited to see it now that everything is officially in place.

  Knox and I walk hand-in-hand through the front door, and I gasp at how gorgeous everything is inside. The lights have been dimmed and country music plays softly through the speakers. There are fresh flowers out on every table, the floors are sparkling clean, and the decor is stunning.

  The place has been transformed from a simple hole-in-the-wall bar with sawdust on the floor to a brand new restaurant four times the size of the original place. It looks amazing.

  “Do you see Jo?” I ask, lifting onto my toes to try to see over the crowd of people in the bar area. Some of the early crowd must already be finished with dinner and enjoying a few drinks before they head home.

  Knox lifts a hand to someone and waves. “There she is,” he says. “Come on.”

  He leads me through the crowd toward the brand new sparkling walnut bar top. Jo is speaking to one of her new bartenders, and she raises a hand, motioning for us to give her just a second.

  Knox pulls me closer. “Want a glass of wine or anything?”

  I shake my head. “I’m good for now,” I say, realizing all my earlier melancholy is completely gone. “Feeling a little drunk on excitement. Can you believe this is really happening? Only a week from the grand opening.”

  “I have to admit, I was a little bit nervous when she said she was going to do this,” he says. “The bar was doing so well, I was afraid that shutting it down for a couple months would be tough for business. But then again, I knew people around here wouldn’t be able to resist her cooking. And the place looks so good, I just know that when word gets around about the food here, it’s going to be packed.”

  My stomach growls just thinking about it. We were lucky enough to get to come in and test everything on the menu over the past couple months while Jo tweaked her recipes. There isn’t a single thing on there that isn’t delicious, and I’m looking forward to eating good tonight.

  “Hey,” Jo says, coming around the edge of the bar and throwing her arms around both of us at once. “How amazing is this? I know it’s not the official opening, but the trial run has gone so well. Everyone is raving over the food and the atmosphere. I can’t believe it.”

  Her eyes are shining. Instead of her usual jeans and black tank top bartending attire, she’s dressed in a black dress and high-heels.

  “You look beautiful,” I say, kissing her cheek. “And there was never any doubt that people would love your food.”

  She runs a hand across her shirt and makes a face. “It’s strange, because even though I’ve been part-owner of the bar for as long as I can remember, this feels different. I woke up today and felt like a real businesswoman,” she says. “I figured I should dress the part, but just between the two of us, I’m ready to kick off these heels and throw them in the garbage.”

  “I honestly don’t think anyone would care if you were wearing sneakers and jeans right now,” I say. “Look at them. They look full and happy.”

  Jo lets out a heavy sigh and puts a hand to her chest. “I’ve never been so busy or excited in my life,” she says. “I’m looking forward to sitting down and eating with you guys in a few minutes. I just need to talk to some of the people from the first trial run and make sure no one has any complaints.”

  “Do you need some help?” Knox asks.

  She puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. “I think I’ve got it,” she says. “You guys have already done so
much for me. Let me take care of you for a change. Go find Hailey at the front. She’ll show you to your table. I think Dad’s already back there with Colton. I’m going to talk to the guests, but as soon as I can get away, I’ll come find you and sit down for a little while.”

  She blows us a kiss and practically skips toward the bar.

  I laugh and squeeze Knox’s arm. “She looks so happy,” I say.

  “I think she is really happy,” he says. “Other than her family and friends, there’s nothing in the world she loves more than cooking for people, so I’d say she’s in heaven right about now.”

  “Come on, let’s go find Hailey and get to our table,” I say. “I’m starving.”

  The girl at the hostess stand is young and beautiful. She’s a sophomore at the local university, and Jo hired her about a week ago. She looks slightly overwhelmed as we approach her.

  “Hey, Hailey,” Knox says. “How did the test run go?”

  She spins around and gives us a nervous smile. “Oh, hey y’all. Things are going great. I don’t think I was prepared for so many people coming in all at once, but I’m glad we survived it,” she says. “I’m a little bit nervous about handling the door for the grand opening next weekend.”

  “Let Jo know if you need help,” Knox says. “But I’m sure you did a great job.”

  “Thanks.” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “It’s going to be fine. I just don’t want to mess anything up. I know how much you guys have put into it, and I really need this job. The place looks great, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s perfect,” I say. “And don’t worry about next week. You’ll do fine, and we’ll be here to help out if you need us.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “I love how this place is a real family-run business. I’ve worked for big corporate chain restaurants before, but you guys are different. I really think I’m going to love working here.”