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Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2)
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Homecoming Queen
Advanced Reader Copy
fabiola francisco
This is an Advanced Reader Copy of Small Town King by Fabiola Francisco. ARCs have limited distribution and this copy has been provided to you in return for an honest review, or as a participant in a blog tour/promotional activity.
Please note, this is not the final version of the book and further formatting and editorial changes may be made prior to publication. The copy is provided to you in good faith and may not be distributed, shared, or transferred in any way.
Advanced Reader Copy
Copyright © 2021 by Fabiola Francisco
Publication Date: October 6, 2021
Homecoming Queen
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and contains material protected under the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Amy Queau, Q Designs
Cover photo by Deposit Photo
Editing by Rebecca Kettner, The Polished Author
Contents
Also by Fabiola Francisco
Social Media
Dedication
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
31. Chapter 31
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Fabiola Francisco
Standalones
Because of You
The Right Kind of Wrong
Perfectly Imperfect
Red Lights, Black Hearts
Twisted in You
All My Truths & One Lie
Mason Creek Novels
Perfect Mess
Carlisle Cellars Series
Not So Charming
Homecoming Queen
Small Town King
Love in Everton Series
Write You a Love Song
Roping Your Heart
Pretend You’re Mine
Make You Mine
You Make It Easy
Then I Met You
My Way to You
Rebel Desire Series
Lovin’ on You
Love You Through It
All of You
Memories of Us
Promise You
Rebel Desire Box Set
Restoring Series
Restoring Us
Resisting You (Aiden and Stacy Novella)
Sweet on You Series
Sweet on Wilde
Whiskey Nights
Social Media
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Facebook
Facebook Reader Group
TikTok
Twitter
Goodreads
Website
BookBub
Newsletter
For everyone who has overcome trauma. You are brave and worthy of love.
Chapter 1
Madison
Exhaustion hits me as I pull up to my childhood home, crossing the intricate iron gate that used to remind me of the castles in my favorite princess stories. I look up at the majestic stone house that is laden with happy memories. My home growing up—an estate enclosed in high stone walls and with iron gate at the entrance—wasn’t like that of my friends. My father invested his money well after retiring from the NFL due to an injury and moved back to his hometown with my mom and older brother in tow.
Willow Creek sees us as their royal family. My father was a superstar football player, my mother was his high school sweetheart, and my brothers and I became our family’s next generation of celebrities by association or birth.
I shake away my thoughts and take a deep breath. No matter how much I distract myself with thoughts about my town and home, it won’t make my homecoming inevitable. I’m here, parked in front of the house, gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. I could back away, drive back to Nashville, and make up an excuse for not visiting. I could blame it on my tour schedule or prioritize my career like I’ve done in the past.
I can’t do that this time, though. I can’t turn around and go back. For so many years, Nashville was my home, the place I felt safe and happy in. But my family needs me now. And I need them.
Exhaling audibly through my mouth, I step out of the car and drag my body up the steps to the front door. I knock on the heavy wooden door and wait. It’s later than I had anticipated arriving, but I called my mom and told her I was delayed. In reality, I was stalling.
“Honey!” My mom squeals when she opens the door and then pulls me into a rib-crushing hug. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy you’re actually here.”
She leans back, her hands resting on my arms and tears in her eyes. Guilt fills me. My family has lived through a lot these last few years, but I haven’t been around to help them, support them.
“I am. Hi, Mom.” I offer a closed-mouth smile.
“You look tired.” I nod. “Are you hungry?” I shake my head. “Come on in.” She steps aside, and I walk into the house carrying a small suitcase.
“Baby girl,” my dad’s voice echoes, and I find him standing across the entryway with a huge smile on his face.
“Daddy.” I wheel my bag toward him and then wrap my arms around his huge frame.
“How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?” I look up at him with a frown.
“We’re doin’ okay.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.” I look between my parents.
“We understand. You’re here now.” My mom grips my hand.
I nod and look around the room. Family pictures are still in the same place, but new pictures of my nieces, Charlie and Chloe, have been added to the collection. I walk toward one of the pictures of the girls and lift the fra
me.
“They’re so big. How are they?”
“They’re shaken up,” my mom replies.
I nod silently. Two months ago, the winery my dad owns caught fire. My twin brother, Miles, was injured. My older brother’s daughters were also in the fire, but the youngest, Chloe, got the worst of it since she was in there longer. Physically, they’ve healed okay. From what I hear, emotionally, they’re a mess. I can’t blame them. I’d be terrified as well.
Not being here for them was hard, but I’ve had other things to deal with and a tour I couldn’t cancel.
“Why don’t you go take a shower and put your bag away. I’ll make you a grilled cheese.” Before I can argue, my mom adds, “You need to eat. You’re way too skinny. Besides, Ms. Sullivan made blueberry pie just for you.” Upon hearing that our housekeeper made my favorite pie, my mouth waters and stomach growls, betraying me.
“Okay,” I nod and head up the stairs to my old bedroom. I haven’t been here in a while. My career in country music keeps me busy and going from one event to another. It leaves little time for family visits, and I may have been avoiding Willow Creek for more than one reason.
But despite all of that, I need to be here now.
I look around my room and chuckle at the way my mom’s left it the same. I thought she’d eventually switch things up in the seven years since high school I’ve been away. Nope, she’s left it exactly how it is, down to the small cork board with magazine clippings of my favorite musicians. To think I used to dream of singing alongside them. Now, I know some of these, have collaborated with them. It’s amazing to think that a little girl’s dream became her reality in the blink of an eye.
All I ever wanted since I could remember was to be a famous musician. After high school, I packed my bags and headed to Nashville while classmates went off to college. I’m not blind to the knowledge that my dad being a famous athlete had something to do with me getting a record deal, but I also know I’m talented. Yet, I’ve crossed many talented singers through the years that were never given a chance to do what I get to do each day.
I used to consider myself lucky. Now, I’m questioning if them not getting a deal was a blessing in disguise.
Shaking those thoughts away and refusing to go down the dark spiral, I place my bag next to my dresser and walk into the bathroom. My mom has laid out towels, placed new soap, shampoo, and conditioner in the tub, and even added a small gardenia candle on the sink—my favorite scent.
When my eyes lift to the mirror, I’m taken aback by my reflection. My eyes are tired, bags bigger than my suitcases underneath them. Long blonde hair instead of my natural red is the next thing that catches my eye. Instead of using my unique red hair, I was immediately told when I got signed to a record deal to change it to blonde.
Sighing, I give my reflection my back and turn on the water in the tub. I wish I could sink into a full bath and let the water drown away the last few years. Unfortunately, my parents are downstairs waiting for me, and after not seeing me in a while, they’ll want to catch up. Drowning all the bad will have to wait.
After a long shower, I throw on an old pair of sweats and wrap my wet hair in a bun before heading downstairs. My parents are talking in the kitchen when I walk in. My mom’s by the stove, and my dad’s sitting at the counter. When he pats the stool next to him, I smile and take a seat.
“How was your trip?” he asks.
“Long,” I sigh. “But it wasn’t too bad. No terrible traffic or accidents, so that was a good thing.”
“Good.”
“Here you go.” My mom places a plate in front of me with a grilled cheese.
“Thanks, Mom.” I smile and swallow thickly before taking a triangle half and biting into the cheesy goodness. “So good,” I say around my bite.
“How was the tour?” My mom asks, leaning on the counter across from me.
“It was good. I got to meet lots of fans. It’s tiring, though.”
My dad eyes me, and I avoid his curious gaze by taking another bite of my grilled cheese. Touring isn’t what it used to be. Nothing about my life is what it used to be.
“Charlie and Chloe will be here tomorrow afternoon. They’ve been talking about your visit for weeks,” my mom smiles.
“Really?” I lift my brows. I’m surprised they’d be excited. I don’t spend nearly enough time with them.
“Of course. They love you.”
I nod, swallowing back my emotions and paint on the mask I’ve learned to put on when I want to hide my true feelings.
“I can’t wait to see them. I know they’re shaken up with what they went through with the fire. How’s Brett?” If I have perfected a mask of indifference, my older brother is the king of turning off his emotions. He’s so stoic at times, I question if he’s lost the ability to feel. I guess I’m more like him in that sense than my twin, Miles. Miles wears his heart on his sleeve, always smiling and looking at the good in things. I swear it’s what helped him overcome the fire injuries with little consequences.
“He’s all right…” My mom looks at my dad. “You know he’s less expressive, but he’s doing his best to support the girls.”
I nod because I understand what my mom isn’t saying. “Anyway, where’s the blueberry pie?” I smile when I finish off my grilled cheese.
“Comin’ right up.” My mom serves a slice for my dad, who winks at me, and then one for me. I chuckle. I got my love for blueberry pie from my father, as well as his green eyes.
For the first time in a long time, I feel myself relaxing. It’s a foreign feeling to allow my shoulders to drop and let my guard down. I’ve been playing a role for so long, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep it up.
“How long are you staying?” My dad turns toward me. He takes a bite of the pie while he waits for my reply, and I wish I could shove my mouth with food so I won’t have to answer. It’s a question I was expecting, but I hope they don’t tag on more questions.
“I’m not sure,” I shrug. “As long as y’all need me here. I want to help any way I can and make sure Miles is truly okay.”
“He is.” My mom reassures me with a hand squeeze. “You’ll see him tomorrow.”
I nod. “I also want to see how he and June are together,” I smile mischievously. “I can’t believe he proposed.” What I don’t add is that I can’t believe he’s going to get married before I had a chance to spend time with June, who is Ms. Sullivan’s daughter, and make sure she’s good for him. I don’t doubt that she is, I’ve known her most of my life, but I’ll always be protective of my brother.
“They love each other.”
“Yeah, they do seem happy.” I nod, thinking to the video calls we’ve had, the times my brother’s included June in our calls.
“Will you be going to the winery tomorrow?” I ask my dad.
“In the morning. Want to come?” I nod. “Will you have issues with security?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I’ll make sure to cover up.” I’ve learned how to go incognito in public, but I’m not naïve that once the people in Willow Creek catch wind that I’m in town, it’ll all be a flurry of excitement. I need to keep my anonymity as much as possible, so while others might think it’s ridiculous, I have a black wig to wear when I go out in public.
“And I’ll make sure our staff knows not to say a word that you’re in town.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“Don’t worry about anything,” my mom adds. “We’ll make sure you can enjoy your visit.”
I swallow thickly. If they only knew how much I need them. Before a wave of tears hits, I excuse myself and kiss them each on the cheek. “Goodnight. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Taking my body up the stairs, I sit on the side of my bed and see the picture frame sitting on my nightstand. My eyes fall shut to trap the tears. The girl in that picture feels like she’s lightyears away, lost somewhere in a hidden galaxy. And the boy standing beside he
r… He’s a ghost that’s haunted her since she walked away.
Chapter 2
Madison
It must be true what they say—there’s no place like home. I haven’t slept so hard in a couple of years. Maybe longer. As soon as I laid in bed last night, exhaustion hit, and I slept through the night when I usually wake up multiple times throughout, usually in a panic due to nightmares.
I sit up and brush back my hair from my face. That damn picture is taunting me, so I turn it around to face the wall. Did I just put a picture frame in timeout?
I stand and stretch, needing a big cup of coffee. After going to the bathroom, I make my way downstairs to the flurry of commotion. I hold my breath, not in the mood to deal with a lot of people before I’ve had coffee. My parents wouldn’t have anyone over, though.
When I step into the kitchen, I freeze, and a huge smile covers my face. Miles stands in the kitchen, talking to Ms. Sullivan. June sits at the counter, watching them in amusement.
“There she is,” Miles announces, causing everyone to turn to look at me. He walks up to me with wide arms, preparing for a hug. I smile at my brother, biting back tears, and walk into his embrace.
“Hey, Dimples,” he whispers. I hold on tight, letting him comfort me without knowing he’s doing it. Or maybe he does. It wouldn’t be the first time either of us senses when the other is in trouble or going through a hard time. It’s that twin connection no one understands unless they live through it.
“Hey, Smiles.” I press my cheek into his chest.
“How are you doing?” He steps back, eyes assessing me. With Miles, I can’t hide. He sees right through the bullshit masks and fake smiles. It’s why I’ve used excuses to avoid coming for a visit. A few months ago, he freaked when he couldn’t get a hold of me. I lied to him when I told him I had lost my phone, but I needed something to ease his mind.