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  SOMETHING RIGHT

  The Blisswood Brothers Book One

  E.H. LYON

  THE BLISSWOOD BROTHERS

  Something Right

  * * *

  Something More

  * * *

  Something Good

  * * *

  Something Beautiful

  Copyright © 2021 by E.H. Lyon

  Written and published by: E.H. Lyon

  Edited by: Contagious Edits

  Cover design: Kate Farlow, Y’all. That Graphic.

  Cover Photo: CJC Photography

  Cover Model: Stephen Bottoms

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may 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.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and used fictitiously and are not to be perceived as real. Any resemblance to persons, venues, events, businesses are entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ Use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  This book is U.S. Copy registered and further protected under international copyright laws.

  ISBN E-Book: 978-1-7365752-8-4

  ISBN Paperback: 979-8-9850139-5-5

  CONTENTS

  About

  1. Grayson

  2. Grayson

  3. Brooke

  4. Grayson

  5. Brooke

  6. Grayson

  7. Brooke

  8. Grayson

  9. Grayson

  10. Brooke

  11. Grayson

  12. Brooke

  13. Brooke

  14. Grayson

  15. Brooke

  16. Grayson

  17. Brooke

  18. Grayson

  19. Brooke

  20. Grayson

  21. Grayson

  22. Brooke

  23. Grayson

  24. Brooke

  25. Grayson

  26. Grayson

  27. Brooke

  Epilogue

  Want More?

  Acknowledgments

  Also by E.H. Lyon

  ABOUT

  It wasn’t in my plan to take care of my teenage sister, but with our parents now gone, I move back to the town I left 12 years ago to do just that. My sister is full of attitude and doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind me that I’ve traded off my corporate office for small-town antics or that Brooke Rivers, of all women, is living next door with an adorable three-year-old kid who may just wrap me around her finger—the kid, I mean… okay, the mom too.

  But it’s complicated.

  It involves a weekend way back, in a bed Brooke and I never left—the memory of me hurting her, and the moment Brooke got her chance to hurt me too. In her head, she’s built a giant wall between us. In my mind, I’m determined to tear it down. And as luck would have it, I need her cookies for the high school bake sale, and she needs my skills at putting together her daughter’s new playhouse. Soon we are exchanging favors, and even better, our clothes are ending up on the floor in the process.

  But she’s adamant that there is too much at stake for us. And when a twist of fate hits us, unexpectedly revealing a secret, I’m beginning to think that she may be right, or just maybe, what she and I have may finally be something right…

  1

  GRAYSON

  I’ve got this. She can’t undermine me. Not if I do it first.

  No, I’ve totally got this. I’ll play it cool and relatable before laying the ground rules for who’s in charge. Here we go…

  I slide my eyes up to study my sister Lucy sitting behind the island in the kitchen. As I push the empty pizza box to the side, I make a note in my head that I should do a grocery run later, as cold pizza for lunch is getting repetitive. Unfortunately, grocery delivery isn’t an option in this town.

  “Stop staring at me, Grayson.” Lucy glares up from her bright orange nails typing away on her phone—the phone I want to throw against a wall most days. Her brown hair is up in a high ponytail, so I have a full view of her unimpressed look, and I know a sarcastic remark will be coming at me in the next thirty seconds.

  It’s been two weeks since I moved into my father’s home that he bought a few years back so that Lucy could be closer to school. The home I never planned to live in. No, I planned to live in my overpriced apartment in Chicago enjoying after-work drinks at up-and-coming hotspots across the city.

  Instead, there is a solid path of cornfields between suburban life and the nature of rural Illinois. And I am on the wrong side of the path, in Bluetop, the quirky small town that for some reason draws people to stop rather than just passing through.

  “All homework done for tomorrow?” I dare to ask, and her eyeroll tells me that I’m an idiot for expecting an answer from a sixteen-year-old.

  I was thirteen when Lucy was born. Considering my two brothers are only slightly younger than me, it was always assumed that Lucy was a surprise for our parents. Despite our mother passing at birth, Lucy was a light in the family, and she automatically gained three older brothers who would protect her to no end.

  She never knew our mother, so her death never affected Lucy the same way that it did us. But when our father passed a month ago from cancer, she continued on as if it was normal. Maybe it was the fact that we’d all had a year to prepare for it, but her resilience still amazes me, just like I accepted the timing of our dad’s passing as the way it was somehow supposed to be.

  “Look, Lucy, I don’t enjoy having to play the uncool brother, but you’re a smart kid, and we need to start thinking about college.” I hate myself right now. I’ll be reflecting on my choice of words later with a cold beer in hand.

  Her nails tap the counter in a firm beat. “Relax. I know you were the one nominated against your will to take care of me, so you don’t need to be such a martyr.”

  I smirk at her viewpoint. “You really need to stop referring to me as a martyr, or at least actually look up the meaning of the word and use it in a correct context.”

  “Take a chill pill, Grays.” She stares at me as I cross my arms and lean against the fridge. Huffing out a breath, she finally answers me. “Homework is done, and I would appreciate if we kept college talk to school hours. I need me time during the evenings and weekends. We would hate for you to be the reason that it’s ruined.” Her mocking tone tells me she believes her philosophy.

  I shake my head at her me time reasoning that she has thrown at me on multiple occasions now.

  Fuck, I could use some me time. This whole situation has my head spinning. I swear my father is up there laughing at how he got me back to Bluetop. In a last-minute change to his will, Jack Blisswood, dear old dad, chose me to be guardian of Lucy, when there are two other brothers who are more than capable—wait, I know why. Because everyone perceives me as the responsible one because my two brothers still throw down like they’re eighteen and break hearts like it’s part of a daily routine.

  But the real reason is my father wanted to strongarm me into being more involved in the family business—Olive Owl.

  And Olive Owl is something special. It’s a farm and vineyard, the full package, with a restaurant and bed-and-breakfast. Hell, I have friends from the city who head out here just to stay at Olive Owl. We are a good middle point between Wisconsin, the Tri-Cities to the west, and suburban Chicago. The produce is delicious, the scarce Midwest wine awa
rd-winning, and I’m sure even the cows would sing our praise.

  But I never had interest in running the place. I’m an architect, an excellent one. To my father’s dismay, I opted not to play college ball and went straight into my degree. I left for the city life, and I got it… only to have to retreat.

  The deep sigh from my sister has me widening my eyes in curiosity. “What is it now?”

  “My phone battery died.”

  “Ooh, that’s a travesty,” I retort.

  “It is. Kendall was telling me about this party next week. Can I go?” I hear the hope in her tone.

  The thing about our situation is I am too young to be in a father role to a teenager, as it feels like just yesterday when I was her age. Shit, my brothers and I got up to stuff when we were her age too. I know every trick she is going to try and pull, because I wrote the fucking book. That’s how I know that even if I say no, she will make it her mission to go.

  And considering everything she’s been through, the spark of happiness flashing across her face for hanging out with her friends is a welcome change. She has a strong mind, she spends more than enough time tending to her horse, and she would rather read a book than chase after boys.

  …Wait a second. Now that I reflect on my image of her and the fact no sixteen-year-old is that immune to hormones and first love, I know it can’t be all that it seems. But one day at a time, and thankfully, the message is clear in town that Lucy has three brothers with a good left hook.

  Which is why I say, “If you tell me where and when, don’t get into trouble between now and then, and you follow the rules.”

  “I know, I know. If there’s drinking, call you no matter the time to pick me up so I don’t go in anyone’s car.”

  I nod and feel like we can meet in the middle on this. It’s a relief, since I’m not in the mood to debate. Heading to the dishwasher, I begin to put the dishes in.

  “Bennett said he’ll help me practice driving this afternoon since you can’t stomach me behind a wheel,” Lucy reminds me, and I’m happy my brother is taking responsibility for the ‘get our kid sister her driving license’ project.

  “I know, and I will stay off the road,” I tease my sister.

  “Ha, ha.”

  Bennett and Knox live at Olive Owl. Knox, the youngest of my brothers, has been running the operations of the place since day one of adulthood; it’s more his than ours. Bennett is closest to my age and took on running the business side of things. Yet we all have an equal share, so we try to pitch in when we can.

  As I focus on the dishes, I can hear Lucy putting her phone on the charger. Glancing out the kitchen window to the gray spring day, that tightening around my chest hits me. The house next door may be the most unplanned thing in all of this.

  My sister comes to my side to pick up a sponge, which surprises me. Normally, I need to ask her three times to help clean up the kitchen.

  But the moment she opens her mouth, I realize it’s too good to be true.

  “Brooke and Rosie come back today from visiting her grandparents,” she reminds me, and she flashes her eyes at me.

  Just the sound of her name causes a thrum somewhere within me.

  “And?”

  “You can’t avoid her forever.”

  I shake my head to myself. “I’m not avoiding her, she just happened to be away since I moved back.”

  My upper lip twitches from the thought of seeing Brooke again. Back in high school, she was the cheerleader every guy wanted. I was the lucky one to call her mine. Christ, she could bend like no other too. Being with her was a dream… until we imploded.

  “Don’t screw it up. Brooke is really cool. She lets me babysit Rosie, and I need Brooke happy so she can teach me her pasta recipe since I can’t keep eating pizza.”

  “You don’t know anything about it, Lucy,” I state, as I’m not sure what Lucy would understand about my romantic history.

  “Please,” she sneers. “Your homecoming king and queen photo hits my eye sockets every day on entering the school. I know you two had a thing.”

  A thing is an understatement.

  First love, inseparable days, unrealistic plans of a future that were too good to be true. Her caramel-brown hair wrapped around my hands and her blue eyes bright with love for me.

  A thing doesn’t even cover the surface.

  “Doesn’t matter.” I hear the somber in my tone.

  It’s been four years since I last saw her, in the only way we know; her under me with her eyes piercing me, asking me for something more. Again in our twenties, we reconnected for an instant and acted like two insatiable people clueless to the impossibility of a future.

  “Well, figure it out, because her car just pulled up and we have a casserole dish to return. I’m not doing it, so you have fun with that situation.” The satisfied look my sister gives me tells me she’s enjoying this.

  Looking out the window to the driveway next door, I see the small blue SUV park, and I know my time has come.

  But that’s the thing—I’m ready, or at least I think I am.

  Because Brooke Rivers is the only woman who I would want to make squirm again. Who, despite the way last time went down—and hell, that was a rollercoaster of crazy—I still can’t keep her out of my mind.

  And if there is anything about my new way of life that I can’t try to avoid, it’s the complication of running into my ex, because it’s just impossible to avoid one another in this town.

  “Don’t do anything I would do,” I say as I move to leave and see that Lucy has conveniently grabbed the dish for me while I was thinking about the hundred ways this all could go.

  “Me? I’m perfectly behaved.” Her sentence is dripping with sarcasm as she holds up the glass oven dish.

  I gently pull her ponytail before taking the dish.

  Heading out through the garage, I’m thankful that my dark long-sleeve shirt and jeans are the right outfit for running into your ex. As my feet begin to walk in the direction of her driveway, my adrenaline spikes, because her silhouette alone does something to me.

  Her sunglasses are on top of her head, her hair down well past her shoulders in natural waves. Her jeans are a perfect fit, showing me the curve of her ass that I want to squeeze, and an olive-green sweater that brings out the blue in her eyes, with her lashes fluttering.

  My worst fear.

  She gets more fucking beautiful as time passes. Her glow is different from when we last saw one another, only better, more gentle, pure radiance.

  Our eyes meet, her pink lips part, and her breath cuts as she stops in her tracks.

  God, I hope her mouth curves up into a smile.

  “You knew this was coming.” I have to offer her a gentle grin.

  Her face is frozen, but inside I’m screaming, Smile for me, you know you want to.

  “Grayson…” she begins, but the squeal of a tiny human in the car breaks our locked gaze.

  A reminder that we are two very different people now.

  That pinch in my stomach reminds me that she’s a mom, and I’m the guy who broke her heart over reasons that are no longer valid.

  “You really want to do this reunion now?” She breathes out, and I hear half-amusement, half-annoyance in her tone.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  2

  GRAYSON

  “Mommy, Mommy!” The sound of a little girl distracts us, and Brooke immediately heads to the backseat door, glancing over her shoulder at me, unsure maybe.

  Opening the door, she soothes the child. “We’re home. Let’s get you out of this car seat, huh?”

  I can’t help but be mesmerized by the scene in front of me. The way Brooke softly smiles and tickles her daughter before lifting her out of the seat and bringing the little girl to stand on the driveway.

  It takes only a second for the little human to appear at my feet, peering up in wonder. There’s a unicorn stuffed animal hanging from her hand, and her bright blue eyes are staring at me, wide. The
spitting image of Brooke.

  “Rosie, this is Grayson. He is Lucy’s oldest brother… and… our neighbor,” Brooke says hesitantly as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Neighbor, huh. Not sure I like that title.

  Kneeling down, I come eye to eye with the toothy kid with brown pigtails. “Hey there, I’m Grays. How old are you?” A silly question, as her age is drilled into my brain.

  Because what happened four years ago is hard to forget.

  Looking across the patio of the farmhouse—now bed-and-breakfast—a sense of pride washes over me as I take a glass of white wine in my hand. The green fields contrast the orange setting sun and the sound of people chatting over wine as a trio of guitars and a simple drum play. Mason-jar lights hang over the stoned patio, and everything feels like it jumped off the page of a magazine—elegant, classy, and rustic.

  My father has a permanent smile as he speaks to the mayor of Bluetop, and he gestures his hand to the barn that houses the barrels of wine. Darting my eyes to another corner, I see my brother Bennett sweet-talking a couple into who knows what, while Knox seems to be surveying the table that has snacks of our Olive Owl produce.

  I haven’t been back since my first year of college, but I wouldn’t miss the grand opening of the bed-and-breakfast at Olive Owl. My designs helped create the expansion of the farmhouse, and I am proud of everything my family has done.