Read Online Flipped! (Spinning Hills Romance 1) by Inés Saint - Free Book Online
Authors: Inés Saint
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, neighbors, Romantic Comedy, auction, small town, Single Mother, Bachelor, Community, Ohio, quirky, Forever Love, Single Woman, Family Tradition, Spinning Hills, Town History, Amador Brothers, Hammer & Nails, Renovating Houses, Line Streets, Old-Fashion Town, Settling Down, Houseful Of Love, Perfumer, Military Brat, Ramshackle House, Craftsman Style, Young Daughter, Real Estate Flipper, Outbid, Optimism, Fairy Tale Ending, Dream House, Flipped!
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“Thank you. I needed that. And don’t get me wrong. I love the life I’ve built and I’m proud of myself in so many ways . . .” Slowly, she pulled her hand away. Being held up as an example made her feel like a fraud. Only Grandma Ruby knew the extent of her biggest regret. What would Heather think if she knew? “But I—I left Ben. Without a good-bye. I just wrote him a note so he wouldn’t worry, packed, and left while he was at work. It wasn’t mutual, like with you and Sam, and it wasn’t a brave thing to do.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “You left with Ella? You must’ve had a good reason . . .”
Holly turned and stared at the computer screen, searching for the right words, wanting to speak the truth without revealing things she wasn’t willing to talk about. “It was before Ella was born.” She chose her next words carefully. “I didn’t know I was pregnant with Ella when I made the decision to leave him and I had good reasons for my decision . . . but Ben wasn’t a bad guy. He deserved better than that.”
Heather rolled Holly’s chair so it faced her. “Hey, it sounds like you’ve really beat yourself up over this. We’ve all made mistakes, you know.”
Holly started to speak but then shook her head. “I know. You’re right. But you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. You came to have some fun.” She got up and forced a smile. “Now, let’s go to the studio and have some fun.”
Late that night, Holly stared at the ceiling. PMS and revisiting the past was a recipe for insomnia. She padded into Ella’s room and stood over her a moment, marveling at her button nose, tiny pink mouth, and rounded cheeks. Carefully, she climbed in beside her, close enough to inhale Ella’s sweet scent without disturbing her sleep. With every breath, a mix of tenderness and pain swelled inside her.
She wouldn’t always have Ella all to herself. Ben was a good father, and he and Ella deserved more time together. Guilt and remorse twisted their way around her heart, squeezing it so tight her chest hurt.
Nothing like hormones, silence, and darkness to make a person dwell on past mistakes and their future repercussions. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel it all. Some nights were for resting, and some were for remembering.
Sam strummed the last chord and looked up, surprised. “Damn, we sound good.”
Johnny struck the cymbal and Dan played another riff. They’d rehearsed late into the night the last three nights in a row. Sam had crashed at Johnny’s last night, too. They’d woken up, gone straight to the basement, and played some more before going to work.
It all felt too much like old days full of good times. But the old days were filled with bad memories, too. Dan couldn’t help but wonder how far off those were.
They were each in their own little world, goofing around with their instruments, when Johnny began singing, “Thirty-four messed-up houses on Sam’s books, thirty-four messed-up houses, take four down and pass them to Dan, thirty messed-up houses on Sam’s books.” Johnny banged on the drums for emphasis. “Thirty messed-up houses on Sam’s books, thirty messed-up houses—”
“Lame.” Sam didn’t look up. “And you see why we need you for vocals,” he said to Dan.
“Yeah.” Dan picked up where Johnny left off. “Take four down and pass ’em around, twenty-six messed-up houses on Sam’s books.”
Johnny banged on the drums again, and Sam tried to bite back a smile. “Whatever.”
“So, why’d you do it?” Dan asked. It was as good a time as any.
Sam sighed, put his guitar down, and grabbed a water bottle from a cooler, looking like he didn’t want to talk about it and wouldn’t know where to begin anyway.
“The crazies are coming,” Johnny supplied.
Sam shook his head and grinned. “Jake calls them the crazies.”
Dan lifted an eyebrow.
“Our school district earned an excellent rating this year,” Sam said, as if that
Heather’s eyes widened. “You left with Ella? You must’ve had a good reason . . .”
Holly turned and stared at the computer screen, searching for the right words, wanting to speak the truth without revealing things she wasn’t willing to talk about. “It was before Ella was born.” She chose her next words carefully. “I didn’t know I was pregnant with Ella when I made the decision to leave him and I had good reasons for my decision . . . but Ben wasn’t a bad guy. He deserved better than that.”
Heather rolled Holly’s chair so it faced her. “Hey, it sounds like you’ve really beat yourself up over this. We’ve all made mistakes, you know.”
Holly started to speak but then shook her head. “I know. You’re right. But you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. You came to have some fun.” She got up and forced a smile. “Now, let’s go to the studio and have some fun.”
Late that night, Holly stared at the ceiling. PMS and revisiting the past was a recipe for insomnia. She padded into Ella’s room and stood over her a moment, marveling at her button nose, tiny pink mouth, and rounded cheeks. Carefully, she climbed in beside her, close enough to inhale Ella’s sweet scent without disturbing her sleep. With every breath, a mix of tenderness and pain swelled inside her.
She wouldn’t always have Ella all to herself. Ben was a good father, and he and Ella deserved more time together. Guilt and remorse twisted their way around her heart, squeezing it so tight her chest hurt.
Nothing like hormones, silence, and darkness to make a person dwell on past mistakes and their future repercussions. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel it all. Some nights were for resting, and some were for remembering.
Sam strummed the last chord and looked up, surprised. “Damn, we sound good.”
Johnny struck the cymbal and Dan played another riff. They’d rehearsed late into the night the last three nights in a row. Sam had crashed at Johnny’s last night, too. They’d woken up, gone straight to the basement, and played some more before going to work.
It all felt too much like old days full of good times. But the old days were filled with bad memories, too. Dan couldn’t help but wonder how far off those were.
They were each in their own little world, goofing around with their instruments, when Johnny began singing, “Thirty-four messed-up houses on Sam’s books, thirty-four messed-up houses, take four down and pass them to Dan, thirty messed-up houses on Sam’s books.” Johnny banged on the drums for emphasis. “Thirty messed-up houses on Sam’s books, thirty messed-up houses—”
“Lame.” Sam didn’t look up. “And you see why we need you for vocals,” he said to Dan.
“Yeah.” Dan picked up where Johnny left off. “Take four down and pass ’em around, twenty-six messed-up houses on Sam’s books.”
Johnny banged on the drums again, and Sam tried to bite back a smile. “Whatever.”
“So, why’d you do it?” Dan asked. It was as good a time as any.
Sam sighed, put his guitar down, and grabbed a water bottle from a cooler, looking like he didn’t want to talk about it and wouldn’t know where to begin anyway.
“The crazies are coming,” Johnny supplied.
Sam shook his head and grinned. “Jake calls them the crazies.”
Dan lifted an eyebrow.
“Our school district earned an excellent rating this year,” Sam said, as if that
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