(Kendall Family #2) -Midwest Fighter Jennifer Ann

MIDWEST FIGHTER BOOK TWO IN THE KENDALL FAMILY SERIES

JENNIFER ANN

Contents Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Epilogue Note from the Author Also by Jennifer Ann Adam’s List About the Author Acknowledgments

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of writer’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. Namely: Chevy, Glock, Taser International, Middle-earth, Downton Abbey, MIT, Boones Farm, Ford Bronco, NIN, Facebook, BMW, Mad Hatter, Valentino, Louis Vuitton, Tom Ford, Kool-Aid, Calvin Klein, Hermes, Backstreet Boys, YouTube, Fight Club, Jameson, Billabong, Saks MIDWEST FIGHTER (KENDALL FAMILY #2) Copyright © 2016 Jennifer Ann Naumann All rights reserved. Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs Image © Lindee Robinson Photography ASIN: B01GGYKW7E

To my spirited friend Sharlo for (unknowingly) loaning me your awesome name. Here’s hoping we catch another epic concert together one day soon!

CHAPTER 1

JAMES

he sudden blow to my jaw creates a blinding flash before everything turns T white behind my eyes. I reel back, unsteady on my feet, trying to focus my blurred

vision on the complicated artwork in colored ink dancing ahead of me. Fuck. I didn’t see that one coming. I don’t see the next one coming either until I’m flat on my ass. Insult to injury, the handful of spectators watching us spar roar with laughter, putting my teeth on edge. It must be a fucking riot to see someone my size knocked down, especially since it never happens. I spit my mouthguard out and try to catch my breath. I’m never going to live this one down. The goofy face of my good buddy Asher comes into focus. His cocky-ass grin makes me want to go another round. “You alright, JD?” he asks, removing a glove to offer his hand. “I didn’t expect you to go down that hard.” “Don’t look so proud of yourself,” I say, unwilling to accept defeat. Becoming a skilled fighter is the only thing that keeps me centered. It’s the only way I can fight the demons from my past that have taken permanent residence inside my head. If I fail at this, I fail at life. There’s no other option. “It was a flash knockdown. You caught me off guard for once.” Chuckling, Asher hooks his tattooed arm under my bicep to help me get back on my feet. “It’s perfectly understandable you’d be distracted the way Ivy Slater’s been eye-fucking you all night.” Once standing, I give him a little shove. What my life-long buddy in crime lacks in height compared to my 6’3” mass, he makes up for in muscle and brawn. His obsession with tattoos has made him popular with the local ladies and his stout pipes have awarded him the unofficial title of arm-wrestling champion in the Blue River community. He even once beat out some old dude that held an impressive title in Vegas. Accordingly, I’ve made it my mission to beat him down in the ring. This is the first time he’s ever had an upper hand. I knock my gloves together and bounce on the balls of my feet. “You ready to finish this or what?” Shaking his head, Asher begins to remove his gear. “Can’t, man. I have to be at work in, like, fifteen minutes.” A grin pulls over his wide lips as he looks over my

shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to tap that? I’d offer to do it for you if I wasn’t so scared ‘Manda would cut my balls off and hang them from her rearview mirror. She seems to think we’re a thing now.” I follow his gaze to where a few of the local girls sit on the crusty old sofa Asher’s older brother scored a few months back. Seeing Ivy and her friends on the damn thing that has probably absorbed its share of bodily fluid over the years from Asher and his brother bringing women out makes my chest burn. Who knows what kind of diseases are crawling around on the raunchy fabric? One of these days I swear I’m going to drag it out of Cupp’s shed and torch it. Filthy animals can’t keep it in their pants long enough to take a girl somewhere decent. When Ivy’s flirty gaze meets mine, her lips bend with a grin. It’s no secret to anyone that she’s been trying to get with me for awhile now. Long blond hair, blue eyes, nice rack, respectable ass, and legs that go on forever, she’s most guys’ idea of the perfect woman all tied up with a bow if you can get past her wild tendencies. If she hadn’t slept with my twin brother a couple years back, I’d probably consider taking her out on a date. But that shit’s non-negotiable. I’m not messing with anyone who has had their mouth around Hunter’s dick. Just because we shared a womb doesn’t mean I’m up for sharing women. And besides, she’s not the one I want, the one I’ve had more day-dreams about than I could ever admit to another living soul. “Better get your ass movin’ so you’re not late for work,” I mutter to Asher, removing my gloves before grabbing both a towel and bottle of water from the edge of the make-shift ring. As I take a long drink and wipe a layer of sweat off my abs, Ivy skips our way. Even though Minnesota is having another bi-polar day and it’s no more than 40 degrees outside, she’s wearing skin-tight jeans and a sleeveless top that reveals just exactly what she has to offer. Ivy’s a nice enough girl. I just wish she’d settle down and leave more to the imagination for once. Guess she knows what she’s doing, though, because the sight of all those curves makes my dick perk with attention inside my compression shorts. Throwing one arm over the top rope, she scans my naked chest, her tongue wetting her glossy lips. “Tough break tonight,” she teases, giggling. “Are you going to Roadrunners from here?” I take another swig of my water and shrug. “I’ll probably head up there after I shower.” “You could give him a hand washing his…back,” Asher suggests to Ivy before throwing an exaggerated wink my way. Though I want to lay him flat for the comment, I slap his raised hand before exchanging our usual fist pump. “You did good tonight, bro,” he tells me. “Don’t let a well-placed uppercut throw you off your game. I’ll see you at the bar.” Grumbling to myself, I follow him out of the ring and toss my gear into my duffle bag. Without acknowledging Ivy, who follows my every move like a lost puppy, I slip into my sweats and thick sweatshirt before heading for the exit.

“Better luck next time, JD!” Cupp calls after me from somewhere inside the shed, snickering. I hold my middle finger up over my head before pushing through the shed door into the cold night. Refusing to accept the fact that I’m not interested, Ivy hurries to keep up at my side, drowning me in a haze of nauseating perfume. “Can I catch a ride with you?” she asks. “Missy and Taya aren’t going uptown until way later and I don’t want to miss the band. Everyone’s saying they’re supposed to be really good.” A low groan rumbles in my chest. She apparently isn’t one to accept defeat either. “It’ll be a good hour before I make it up there. I have to grab something to eat.” “I don’t mind!” she insists, hooking her arm through mine. “I could use something myself, you know, to soak up all the booze and shit.” Memories of the last time I saw her out with her friends trickle into my head. Shit-faced out of her mind, she danced on the bar-top in her bra while the other woman she came with whooped in encouragement. Nearly got my ass kicked by a couple of horny pricks when I threw her over my shoulder and drove her to her house, tucking her in and locking the door behind me. “You should be more careful,” I say with a growl rising in my chest. “There are too many assholes around here that would take advantage of you.” She leans in, pressing her hard tits against my arm, and kisses my cheek. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I have my fierce bodyguard.” Hearing her refer to me as “hers” doesn’t sit well in my gut. I shake my head, trying to think of a way to shut this shit down before she assumes we’re anything. A red-blooded American guy can only resist a sweet little body like hers rubbing up against him for so long before giving in. And my raging hard-on is eager to remind me I haven’t been laid in months. “You need to learn to look out for yourself,” I mumble. I don’t argue when she climbs into the passenger side of my Chevy parked right outside. It’s kind of nice to have company for a change on the fifteen minute ride out to the farm. I haven’t dated a whole lot since high school as most women I’ve been interested in seem to be after the money they think I’ll inherit one day. Everyone knows Dad and his older brother are filthy rich as they own half the farmland in the county, drive the newest equipment, have the biggest houses, and spend most of their winters vacationing somewhere tropical. Doesn’t mean I’m reaping in the benefits. Though I do have the added bonus of living in my parents’ house rent-free and driving a truck owned by the farm, I get paid an hourly wage and have to work my ass off to make a decent living. Like all my siblings, I had plans that didn’t involve sticking around. But I’ve learned plans change when you’re caught cold, just as in boxing. Thought I was going to college with the girl I’d been dating since freshman year of high school and eventually we’d marry. Then Mom died. After I made the decision to farm with Dad and Uncle Orin, Olivia announced on graduation night that she wasn’t going to

spend the rest of her life in Blue River and I never saw her again. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” Ivy comments while putting on her seatbelt. The strap pushes her breasts together even more until it looks like they’re going to spring free. “I was hoping you’d stop in for a drink when you picked your dad up from Roadrunner’s a couple nights ago.” Grinding my teeth together, I turn the key in the ignition and my truck roars to life. Keeping tabs on Dad was the main reason I decided to stay in Blue River. He’s always been a good man, the kind that would give his friends the shirt off his back. But he never really recovered after the love of his life died. And too often he relies on booze to numb the pain. Family has always come first in my life, and I’d do anything to protect them. I just wish they would at least make an effort to take better care of themselves. I’m the one who’s always keeping track of everyone, making sure they’re staying out of trouble. I’m the one who’s always losing sleep over our three sisters who have spread out across the country. As we head down the gravel road, Ivy’s fingers jab at each of the preset stations on the radio. She stops when Charlie Walker’s deep voice bursts from the speakers with the song he wrote for my sister. I cringe. Wonderful. “Oh my God!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “It must be so weird for you to hear him on the radio like this! Is Evelyn bringing him home again anytime soon?” With the mention of my sister and her new rockstar husband, I hunch over and grip the steering wheel tight. It was hard enough when Evelyn moved to New York, too far away to keep an eye on. Then I found out through some random fuckin’ email that my baby sister was dating someone known as being a womanizer and I about lost my goddamned mind. When I flew out to confront her, I planned to drag her back home with me. If I had followed through, she wouldn’t be preparing to follow Charlie Walker across the country with rabid fans on their heels. The only reason I changed my mind was because of Evelyn’s roommate, Sharlo. Sharlo. Her unusual name alone evokes pleasurable thoughts that draw my balls tight. Not unlike Ivy, she’s blond haired and blue eyed, only her hair looks as soft as strands of silk, her much bigger eyes are a bright pacific blue like the ocean, and her body’s filled with curves in all the right places. She’s the very definition of soft and feminine. Come to think of it, Ivy and Sharlo couldn’t be any less alike in every other way. From the limited time I’ve spent with Sharlo, she seems to be the type who doesn’t give a shit what other people think, and she’s unafraid to share a piece of her mind. And she’s smart, like Harvard smart. Plus she knows how to have fun without being annoying and dresses in a way that I can respect. After she sat me down in their Brooklyn apartment, giving me an ass chewing for showing up unannounced to confront Evelyn, Sharlo somehow convinced me that I had done the wrong thing and needed to lighten up on my sister. I returned to Minnesota with my tail between my legs without Evelyn ever finding out that I had

been there. The irony that I hadn’t flown all the way out there for nothing wasn’t lost on me when I couldn’t get the British fireball out of my head. At Charlie and Evelyn’s Lake Tahoe wedding in December, I was eager as shit to spend time with her again. The temptation to have a one-night fling was strong, especially seeing her all decked out in a dress for the wedding. The way she looked both classy and sexy as hell made me seriously question my resolve not to get involved with my sister’s best friend. To my frustration, though, we parted ways without so much as a goddamned kiss. It was my fault for not letting her know what the mere sight of her did to me. Then again, what good would it have done me to hook up with someone who lives over a thousand miles away? “Uh, you just missed your turn,” Ivy says, pointing over her shoulder at the road as we pass. Cursing under my breath, I slow the truck and make a three-point turn. As much as I want to be with Sharlo, she’s off limits for too many fucking reasons. If I’m going to do something about the ache she started, I’ll have to do it with someone local. “So…Evelyn and Charlie?” Ivy asks. “Are they coming back or what?” “He’s going on tour,” I grumble. Ivy doesn’t say anything more as we pull into the farm’s long driveway. The two-story house is dark, meaning Dad probably went to the bar for supper and Hunter’s probably off somewhere getting laid. There are days when I think it’d be easier to take on my twin’s lackadaisical lifestyle of pounding beers and going through meaningless affairs. It’d beat giving myself ulcers over everyone else’s shit and going home to jack off in the shower every night. After I park the truck in the driveway, I glance over at Ivy. It wouldn’t be so bad to date someone hot who’s into me. It’s just hard to get past images of her all over my brother on that Fourth of July. Especially when I’m fairly certain they took the boat out after the fireworks to screw in the middle of the lake. But damn, do I ever need to hook up with someone. The memories of Sharlo have created a knot of pent-up frustration deep in my gut. “Why are you always so…intense?” Ivy asks, pushing the center console up before sliding onto the center seat. She drags a fingernail up and down my thigh. “You need to learn to relax a little. Have some fun for once.” I instantly harden inside my sweatpants with her touch. If I stare at her with squinted eyes, I can almost see Sharlo sitting in her place. It’s fucked up, but I’m ready to make do with what I have. “I do know how to have fun,” I answer in a steady voice. Staring into Ivy’s murky blue eyes, I set my hand on her jaw and lean down for a kiss. Her lips are sticky with lipstick or some shit and she tastes like stale vodka. Not the best first impression. Then her mouth opens and her tongue barges its way past my lips. The insistent strokes of her little tongue ignite the drive to relieve my sexual drought. With a growl, I dig my fingers into her hips and lift her to straddle my lap. Her hands are suddenly everywhere, setting my body ablaze.

I guess I could do this. She's a decent enough kisser and her body feels pretty great grinding over my eager dick. Maybe just this once I can forget about having Hunter’s sloppy seconds and have a little fun as she suggested. Ready to get on with it, we stumble out of the truck and into the garage. Ivy’s hand reaches inside my sweats and compression shorts to stroke my cock. I’m so focused on getting her inside the house before I blow my wad that it barely registers when I see Dad’s F-150 parked in its stall. Maybe he actually grabbed a ride from Hunter so I wouldn’t have to give his drunk ass a ride home later. I’m sure he’s spent after working all day on getting machinery primed for planting. The minute I’ve shuffled Ivy inside the back door by the pantry, our black Lab, Cash, comes flying through the air, knocking me off balance and colliding with Ivy. “Ouch!” she cries, grabbing her arm. “Dumb mutt scratched me!” The urge to defend my 4-legged friend is lost when Cash continues to whine, jumping up to drag his paw across my arms. It’s completely out of character for our normally docile pet. “What’s up, buddy?” I ask, rubbing his head. He barks a few times, then races away. Something’s wrong. I wrap my fingers around Ivy’s wrist and lead her back to the pantry. “Stay put until I tell you it’s clear,” I snap. Reaching above the doorway, I grab Dad’s Glock from its holster and pull back the slide to put one in the chamber. Ivy’s eyes freeze on the loaded weapon. “Where are you going with that? You think someone broke in?” “I’m going to find out.” I start to close the door behind me, enclosing her in the dark pantry. “Wait!” she cries, sticking her foot in the door. A slow smile spreads across her lips and she pulls on the waistband of my sweats. “We’re still going to have sex, right?” Un-fucking-believable. “Stay here!” I snap with a glare that makes her step back. Cash continues to bark repeatedly from upstairs. If someone broke in, the gun is only necessary if they’re carrying a piece too. I can easily take care of whatever asshole is trying to steal from my parents with my bare hands if needed. I always welcome the opportunity to kick some ass when it’s deserved. Making my way up the dark stairway, I wince with every creak of protest from the old wooden steps underneath my weight. It was so much easier as a teen to sneak in after curfew when I weighed a good fifty pounds less. The silence that surrounds me is unsettling until Cash begins barking again. I follow the sound and end up in Mom and Dad’s room at the end of the hallway. Not much has changed in the master suite since Mom died. Despite Evelyn’s pleadings for him to move on, Dad didn’t have the heart to put any of her things away, making it appear she’ll be back at any moment. My insides never fail to clench with the site of her brush on the dresser, still filled with strands of her

strawberry blond hairs. I avoid their bathroom at all costs knowing I’ll be surrounded by her womanly products and the smell of her favorite perfume that Dad sprays into the air every morning. I can’t see much in the darkened room other than Cash running circles on the far side of the bed. Gun raised, I creep over to join him. My eyes freeze on a dark pool of something glistening on the floor and a large figure sprawled out beside it. Convinced there’s no immediate threat, I hurry over to flip on the light inside the adjoining bathroom. My heart screeches to a stop once it fully registers what my eyes are seeing. Dad’s still body on the hardwood floor, covered in blood. Eyes open to the ceiling, mouth open. There’s no need to check for a pulse. The man who taught me everything I know, my lifelong hero, is dead. I drop the gun and fall to my knees. I always figured he’d have a heart attack or liver failure since he stopped taking care of himself so long ago, but neither would explain all the blood. Noticing several red marks on his flannel shirt, I pull it back to find angry gashes covering his chest. Someone fucking stabbed him while he was getting undressed, probably ready for an early bedtime. As I take his already cold, lifeless body in my arms, the coppery smell of blood coating my lungs, a flurry of hot tears releases hard and fast. With my head pressed to Dad’s, I silently make the strong, hard-working man who meant the world to me an unbreakable promise. I’ll find the asshole that did this. And then I’ll kill them.

CHAPTER 2

SHARLO

“S har, someone killed my dad.”

Evelyn’s five words have replayed over and over in my head as if repeating them will somehow make it real. The chilling news has haunted me ever since I woke to her frantic call over twenty-four hours ago. Though it’s played out like a never-ending nightmare of sorts, I haven’t given myself time to worry what this means for the Kendall family, or worry there’s someone still out there meaning to do them harm. My primary focus has been on ways to make things easier on my best friend, knowing her husband would have his hands full the way it was. First I arranged for Charlie’s sister, Katie, to handle any business that may arise with the Rocker Chique clothing line we started with Evelyn several months ago. Then I teamed up with Charlie’s manager, Lorenzo, to make the necessary arrangements for our trip from New York to Minnesota as soon as a drive to the airport and the airline’s schedule would allow. After a two-hour layover in Charlotte, we’re entering the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport just as the sun is sinking beneath the horizon. Ever since Evelyn married a rockstar, I’ve become accustomed to traveling with a small entourage of rather large, fit men that screams for attention. Still, I’m unprepared for the reception we receive the moment we step inside the airport’s baggage claim area. Seems there’s a mole among the airline crew the way the paparazzi stand like vultures, waiting to catch Evelyn in the inopportune moment. My heart breaks as she marches on at Charlie’s side with sunglasses and ball-cap in place, becoming pale when reporters hurl ridiculous questions at them. “Why are you in Minnesota?” “Why do you look so upset, Evelyn? Did Charlie cheat on you?” “Evelyn, are you pregnant yet?” I don’t catch all the bullshit thrown their way, but hear enough to breath a sigh of relief when it seems they aren’t on to the real reason why they’ve returned. When a photographer steps in the way, causing Evelyn to stumble, I spin back around to face the little man, hands pressed to my hips. “Bloody parasite!” I yell. “How would you fancy having that camera lens shoved up your arse?”

Shamelessly laughing in my face, Lorenzo snatches my arm to reel me in. “Easy, killer. Better to ignore them than give them something to write about.” The two-hour car ride that follows, taking us further into the bowels of God’s country, has me on edge. Evelyn sleeps on Charlie's chest at my side, poor luv absolutely knackered from hours of emotional turmoil, while their bodyguard Dante mans the wheel and Lorenzo prattles on at his side about whoever plays on the radio. At first it was most difficult adjusting to having a fit celebrity I once fancied become my close mate. But seeing Charlie fuss over Evelyn in every way never fails to warm my heart. When I glance at them, he’s cradling her in his massive arms like he’s ready to take on the world to keep her safe. All day I’ve seen the extreme frustration brewing in those mesmerizing blue orbs of his, knowing there isn’t a thing he can do to make things right or bring her dad back. “Any word on suspects?” I ask quietly. “The sheriff didn’t have much to say when I called again before our flight,” Charlie answers through clenched teeth. “I doubt their small town operation knows how to deal with this kind of thing.” “I’m gobsmacked that anyone would want to hurt someone like him,” I say, even though it wasn’t necessary to say such a thing aloud as everyone in the car is thinking the same. Their dad was a friendly, hard-working chap. Not the type to have enemies. “Have you spoken with James?” Charlie’s head hangs low as he shakes it repeatedly. “He’s not talking to anyone. The sheriff told me it took several deputies to pull him over after they clocked him going seventy down the gravel. He wasn’t making any sense so they Tased him and threw him in a cell until he calmed down enough to explain what happened.” Oh, how my heart aches. I can only imagine the kind of devastation involved for James to have lost the plot that way. Over time, I’ve learned Evelyn’s older brother is a complex creature made up of many characteristics—brooding, protective, and stubborn as hell. But being rational when he’s upset doesn’t seem to be in James’s nature. The first time we met, he made quite an impression with all those bulging muscles and his surly mood. Despite lecturing him for thinking Evelyn was incapable of taking care of herself, I was quite smitten. Then, the night of Evelyn and Charlie’s wedding, something intoxicating happened between us, leaving me to wonder if I could ever date someone like James. Of course I don’t mean James specifically, since he lives impossibly far away and is accustomed to a simple life in an underdeveloped town I couldn’t begin to understand. I simply wondered how it would play out to care for someone that out of control who possessed a charming side so deep down it requires a pickax to break past the exterior. Lorenzo turns in his seat with a foolish grin. He’s handsome enough, but there doesn’t seem to be much between his ears that’s capable of logic. “Can you imagine the wattage involved to take a guy like that down? Wish I could’ve been there to see

it happen. Probably took the entire police department to bring someone that size to their knees!” “Don’t be a wanker!” I scold with a glare, ready to tear him apart. I swear the man sees everything as one big joke. Perhaps that’s the reason he remains single. “The poor bloke found his father stabbed to death! Have a little respect!” Lorenzo’s guilt-ridden expression passes from Evelyn to Charlie. “Sorry, man. Don’t tell your girl I said that.” “Looks like this is our exit,” Dante announces, clicking the rental’s blinker and veering to the off-ramp. “Welcome to the happening town of Blue River, Minnesota, boys and girls.” When we pull off onto a narrow highway, there isn’t much to see in the darkness beyond bare fields of dirt and a small handful of rundown buildings. For a solid mile, we only pass one other vehicle. It puts Evelyn’s decision to move to New York when we had only met online into a whole new perspective. Charlie kisses the top of Evelyn’s head. “We’re there, Freckles.” The seemingly silly nickname he’s bestowed on his wife never fails to make my heart flutter like an adolescent with a crush. He utters the word with the upmost love and adoration, giving it more meaning than her birth-given name. Spending copious amounts of time with the love birds has altered my views on dating, forcing me to resolve that I mustn’t settle until I find someone who treats me like royalty. Guess I can plan on a plethora of tables for one in my foreseeable future. Evelyn stirs in his arms before sitting tall to gaze out the window. Understandably, her thick, brown hair’s a mess and the freckled skin around her eyes, dark and puffy, gives away the fact that she hadn’t slept a wink after the news of her dad’s death until the car ride. If only there was something I could do in order to lessen her heartache, maybe I wouldn't feel so utterly useless. “I want to run by the farm before we go to the hotel,” she says to no one in particular. Charlie cradles her face with one hand, running his thumb along her patches of freckles. “We talked about this, baby. I don’t think it’s a good idea until the sheriff says it’s clear. Hunter said they’re staying at Asher’s for a few days.” “I just want to see it,” she says as a tears slips down her cheek. “The exact spot where Dad took his last breath. It won’t be real until I understand what James felt when he walked into the room.” “Perhaps you should try speaking to James first,” I suggest gently. “I imagine about now he could use your support as much as you could use his.” Charlie nods from her other side. “Excellent idea. Why don’t you text him to see where we can meet?” “No need,” Evelyn answers. An almost-there smile flutters over her lips but never reaches her dull eyes. “I know exactly where he’ll be.”

everal baffling gravel roads later that make me feel like a rat in a never-ending maze, the headlights cut onto a sprawling ranch with a massive two-story home, a big red barn, fenced in fields, and a steel building along which there’s a long queue of vehicles. I’ve never set foot on an actual ranch. Between the looming darkness and the ominous feeling that comes with being in the middle of nowhere, it’s as if we stumbled upon a slasher flick. Any minute we can expect a rush of scantily clad sorority girls to come screaming. “Pull in by that blue pickup,” Evelyn instructs Dante. Once we’ve secured a spot beside the steel building, we all pile out into the cold and wait for Evelyn’s lead. She stares at the entrance with a wistful look, seemingly reluctant to go inside. Charlie stands behind her like the constant rock he’s become, rubbing her arms. “Want us to give you a few minutes alone with your brother?” “No,” she says with a quiet laugh. “Knowing James, I’m going to need all the help I can get. Once he’s in a mood…” Instead of finishing the sentence she shivers and reaches for her husband’s hand. I haven’t the slightest idea what to expect until we’re inside the building. We’re greeted by a flurry of shouts and mayhem as a small crowd watches around a makeshift boxing ring among a collection of large machinery and tools scattered about. The colossal man who once appeared on my stoop angry as a hornet stands inside the ropes, throwing punches at a heavily inked opponent. In nothing more than bright blue gloves and long black shorts, James has the look of someone gone completely nutters as he bounces on his feet. There’s more complexity in his chocolaty brown eyes than I can possibly comprehend and his handsome face is drawn tight with rage. The way his thick, dark hair spikes all around in a haphazard fashion and his fit body glistens with perspiration, it would seem they’ve been sparring for ages. When provided with a proper view of his impressive chest, I’m unprepared for the lick of flames running from my stomach down to my toes. There isn’t a sculptor in the world alive or dead who wouldn’t foam at the bit to eternalize the broad curves of his chest and the strong lines of his frame. Though I normally fancy a healthy collection of tattoos on men, there’s something about James’s perfectly smooth, olive-toned skin stretched over his muscle-bound body that’s simply artistic. I forgot how massive of a man he truly is. A sizable bulge appears in his fairly loose shorts every time he bounces, suggesting he’s well above average in every department. It’s intimidating as hell and sends a shiver down my spine. The things I’d love to do to a superb specimen such as him are downright scandalous. It’s a bloody shame I won't be finding release anytime soon as I forgot my vibrator at home, and can’t expect anything from someone who’s grieving an unthinkable tragedy. Somehow I manage to drag my eyes away from his divine body, returning to study his rugged face. His chiseled features sheen with sweat under the harsh lighting and there’s a bleeding cut in the center of his wide bottom lip. I’m unaware

S

I’ve sucked in a never-ending breath until my lungs burn for release. One word comes to mind: perfection. As if sensing my lustrous stare, his eyes are suddenly on mine, lit with surprise beneath raised brows. I fully intend to smile but his charm is so overwhelmingly brilliant that I can’t do anything aside from letting my lips part with a drastic intake of breath. There’s no mistaking those beautiful brown eyes have an immeasurable magnitude of power that could literally destroy me and my entire world. Our eyes are still locked when his opponent’s fist shoots out, catching him right in the center of his stomach. My hands slap over my mouth as he stumbles backward. But no matter, he recovers quite nicely, delivering a solid punch to the bloke’s jaw that sends him down to the mat. “James Daryl!” Evelyn cries in displeasure. The opponent chuckles as James helps him back to his feet. “It’s alright, Ev,” the large man tells her after removing a mouth guard. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to meet him here this morning.” “I’m not finished with you,” James says with a snarl, once again bouncing on his feet. The way he refuses to acknowledge his sister or the rest of us, I fear he’s in some sort of denial. “You’ve pounded me enough today already, JD,” the opponent decides, shaking his head. “You need to spend some quality time with your family.” The burly man, not as fit as James but built like a tank, slips out from between the ropes and gathers Evelyn in arms covered with colorful tattoos. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Your dad was a good man.” “Thanks, Ash,” Evelyn whispers. “And thanks for taking care of James.” Charlie moves in closer to his wife like a magnet. The moment she releases Ash, he wraps his arms around her from behind, staking his claim. “Has he been going at it like this all day?” “Pretty much,” Ash answers with a chuckle. “The man is wired to deal with his feelings through his fists. He’s been that way since high school.” I peer over at James. He exits the ring, veering for a gym bag on the cement floor. A blonde tart who apparently buys apparel in the young children’s aisle bounces over to his side with skin flashing beneath her ill-fitting shirt. For a fraction of a moment I’m completely gutted when she strokes his bare arm as they speak. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone like him would have a girl. I simply expected at the very least he’d hold out for someone who shops in the adult department. Tensing, James removes her hand. The harsh look he throws her would indicate if they are in fact together, there’s trouble in paradise. I would venture to guess it has everything to do with his inability to cope with everything that’s happened. “It was a waste of time to come here,” Evelyn grumbles. “He’s not in any shape to talk.” Turning in Charlie’s arms, she faces him with a defeated sigh. “Let’s go check into the hotel. I’m exhausted.”

With a shake of my head, I touch her arm. “Give me a moment. I’ll sort this out.” Head held high, I start for where James steps into a pair of low-cut running pants while the blonde becomes visibly agitated at his side. “This shit isn’t healthy!” she snarls, locking her hands on her hips. “You can’t take your anger out on people who are trying to help you!” Arms crossed, I stop two feet away from her. “And why not?” I demand. “Who are you to discredit someone’s feelings? Unless you’re his head doctor, I’d suggest you give the man room to deal in whatever way he sees fit.” For a moment they both stare back at me, slack-jawed, until the blonde’s unremarkable features storm over. “Who am I? I’m his girlfriend. Who the fuck are you?” “Sharlo,” James says in a dark tone. The sound of my name coming from his delectable lips sends a tremor to my toes. Within the depths of his warm gaze, pupils expanding to remarkable widths, I’m met with glimpses of a strong man warring with a rather frightened boy. It would appear the source of his anger comes from the unwillingness to let himself hurt in the way necessary. The urgent need to kiss him until the hardness fades away is almost too much to bare. “Be a luv and merely come greet your sister,” I suggest, hooking my hand inside his tight bicep. Though his sweaty skin feels cold and clammy to the touch, it still manages to fill me with warmth, and his sour scent sends a beacon straight to my libido. “It’s all I ask. You’re not the only Kendall family member who’s had a helluva day. She could use her big brother right now probably even more than I would fancy a pint. It feels as if we’ve just completed the journey to Middle-earth.” A minuscule hint of a smirk tugs at one of his cheeks. As we’re sharing a moment in our locked gazes, the blonde steps forward and gives my shoulder a healthy shove. “Hands off, Downtown Abbey!” Rolling my eyes with the desire to correct her, I merely laugh as I right my footing. “Back away, Ivy,” James warns the woman, giving her a shudder-worthy glare. “Just…go home. You’re not my girlfriend. That’s not going to happen.” “After what we almost did last night? Unbelievable,” she mutters, shaking her blond mane. Curling her upper lip, she shoots daggers my way with squinted eyes before marching away. Whatever they almost did must not have been enough to make James care. He simply watches her leave before his big hand moves up and down my coat-covered arm. The pinch to his broad face has lessened considerably, yet there’s still an intensity lying dormant behind his eyes. “You alright?” “I will be once you get your arse over there and give your sister a proper hug. Be quick about it and I'll allow you to take me out for a pint afterward.” “Not much of a drinker,” he says with a bit of the surliness returning. Smiling cheerily, I press the palms of my hands flat against his hard chest.

Bloody hell, it’s like standing up against a cement wall. Then again, a mere wall has never made my lady bits quiver with blinding bliss. If merely touching him in this innocent way can make my heart leap from my chest, I can’t imagine what would happen were we both naked and his hands were on my— “I didn’t say you had to have a drink, now did I?” I quickly say, silencing my errant thoughts. When his gaze slowly drags down to my hands, I can't decide if I’ve made him uncomfortable or otherwise, so I step back. Swinging my arms down to my sides, I motion toward Evelyn. “Off you go then. Play the adoring big brother so we can get on with it.” A deep grumble sounds deep inside his throat when he grabs a sweatshirt from the bag and slips it over his head, leaving the hoodie secured over his dark hair. There’s something dangerously sexy about the way his face darkens beneath the shadows of the material. His chocolate eyes flitter over to me as he passes en route to where his baffled sister watches on. Suddenly he stops to look over his shoulder. One of the rare, but rather brilliant smiles I was afforded at the wedding, reappears for a fleeting moment. “I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt.” My legs are literally shaking as he struts away. All at once I feel as if I’ve taken the place of the opponent he knocked on his ass. For the first time since Evelyn met Charlie, I believe I finally have an inkling of the unstoppable force drawing them together that they were powerless to stop, even if they had tried.

CHAPTER 3

JAMES

eeing Sharlo standing among the endless piles of machinery parts in Cupp’s S shed was the first thing to rescue me from the rage-fueled haze that had taken over

ever since discovering Dad’s body. For a moment I thought I was seeing something that wasn’t really there, like an angel had been sent down from the heavens. Crazy as that may sound, I haven’t met anyone else with that perfect of a face. Now, as she sits beside me in my pickup truck on our way to Roadrunners, it’s surreal. Seeing her long blond hair flowing over her shoulders, red wool coat standing out against the truck’s gray interior, having her here is more like something out of a dream. With a sinking sensation roiling in my gut, it becomes painfully obvious that she doesn’t belong anywhere near southern Minnesota. She’s way too polished. Too sophisticated. She hasn’t said a word since she asked Evelyn to leave her room key at the hotel’s front desk. Whatever whispered conversation they exchanged before saying their goodbyes left my sister in good spirits. Evelyn was actually smiling when Charlie and his buddies lead her back to their rental. The way she looked at me after we hugged still made me uneasy, as if silently begging me to tell her that Dad isn’t really dead. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings of being fucking helpless, unable to fix things. Though I appreciate the way Sharlo goes out of her way to give me space rather than firing off questions, I’m itching to know more about her and hear the sound of her sexy voice. “You ever been to a town that only has one bar?” I ask. When she turns to give me a bright, cheerful smile, her soft features glow in the dashboard light. Not much I wouldn’t give to run my fingers over her delicate, pink lips and take them for a test drive. Seems the more time we spend together, the harder it becomes to resist her flawless beauty. Goddamn I could really use a good fuck for release but I don’t want to use her that way. She’s too good for that kind of bullshit. “Of course, only not in the States,” she answers. “Normally I’ve only seen that kind of thing in remote villages in places like Spain and Brazil. Are there a list of vaccinations I should be up to date on?”

I almost chuckle, able to appreciate that she’s good-natured about being so far away from the big city life. “You travel a lot?” “Only since birth. Mum sees life as a never-ending adventure even though Dad has always been tied down by his employ with a well-to-do computer corporation. We lived in England for a short go—just long enough to make me sound properly British—before Dad acquired the CEO position-of-a-lifetime in California. Once we returned, Mum didn't think twice about leaving him home or taking a holiday in Venice while he was away on business in places like Japan and Germany. One would think he would’ve been the one to abandon his ungrateful family and not the other way around. Course she didn’t head back home to England empty-handed and she’s been on permanent holiday ever since.” “Are they both from England?” “No. My dad is from the outskirts of Vegas of all places. After a questionable childhood surrounded by vagrants and hookers, he chose to graduate from MIT with the highest of honors and relocated to Silicon Valley. Mum was his receptionist at his first employment. It was like something out of one of those dreadful soap operas in which the boss seduces the employee, only it was the other way around. Mum saw dollar signs.” When I pull onto Main Street, my heart seizes in my chest. Roadrunners is fucking packed for a Tuesday night. It's rare but not unheard of. For all I know, it could be dart league. I park across the street and tap my fingers on the steering wheel. No way I’m going in there. Everyone will either stare or ask questions about Dad. But I don’t have it in me to take Sharlo back to the hotel so early either. Since she approached me at Cupp’s, the gaping hole in my chest has become a little smaller and the pain has lessened enough that I can breathe. I don't know that anyone has made me feel comforted in that way, even on a good day. “Dad would’ve been up here on a night like this,” I mumble, surprised to hear myself saying the words out loud. “I’d be just as keen on having a drive about the countryside,” Sharlo offers, touching my arm. “Evelyn tells me you do that sort of thing quite often around here.” A glimmer of hope fills me with her suggestion. Maybe the night won't be over so soon after all. “There’s an off-sale store attached to the bar.” Her neatly trimmed eyebrows rise. “Right then. Sit tight, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” When she leaves the truck I’m drenched in the enticing scent of vanilla, giving me another reason to want more of her. Back when she opened her apartment door in New York, I was first drawn in by her striking beauty. Now I’m invested in the way she makes me feel when we’re together. As many times as I tell myself anything we start would only be temporary, it doesn’t seem to matter. My thoughts return to Dad once she’s out of sight. I didn’t ask how soon they’d be performing the autopsy. Is his mutilated body laying on some cold cart in the city morgue? I assume he would want to be buried next to Mom, but I remember

him saying something once about wanting to be cremated. How “normal” will he look for the visitation? Would cremation be a better option? I don’t realize I’m struggling to breathe until seeing Sharlo darting across the quiet street with a brown bag in either hand. There’s an unrestrained grin stretched over her lips when she comes barreling back in at my side. “I feel as if I just committed a bloody robbery! Are you aware there are entire bottles of wine for three dollars in that establishment?” She slides one of the bottles out from its bag. “Are these made on a local farm?” A loud chuckle falls from my throat. Jesus…I haven’t laughed in forever. How someone can be so naive and sure of themselves at the same time is refreshing. And her amusement by something as simple as a cheap bottle of wine is so damn hot that I suddenly want her in the worst way. “They don’t have Boones Farm in Brooklyn?” I ask. “If they did I’d spend half my existence pissed up! It’s brilliant!” “You may not feel the same way about it in the morning,” I tell her, unable to stop myself from meeting her smile with a smaller one. This spirited woman sure knows how to get inside my head and make me feel things when I’m so intent on closing everything off. Sharlo alternates between talking and drinking as we head out on the first gravel south of town. In the short time I’ve known her, I never would’ve guessed she’s the daughter of a millionaire, but from the adventures she describes, it’s clear her family is filthy rich. The way she talks about her life is all very matter-of-fact, like it’s normal to attend private schools and vacation all around the world with nannies and servants. Even though her stories enforce the fact that we come from different lifestyles and wouldn’t be too compatible because of it, I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather be doing than listening to her speak. Just because there won’t ever be anything meaningful between us doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the ride while it lasts. A while later I pull into Arden’s Pit, the secluded lot where we hung out as teens to drink and mess around with our girlfriends. Can’t say I’ve been here many times since high school graduation. Despite being filled with bare oak trees and brown hills that have yet to feel the occasional warmth of spring, seeing the place after all these years brings back a rush of good memories from the old days. Excitement reflects in Sharlo’s beautiful blue eyes as I park the truck beside the moon-lit pond. I unbuckle my seatbelt and kill the engine before reaching in the back of the cab for a blanket, my coat, and the lighter I keep handy for burning garbage. “Come on,” I say, motioning for her to follow with a tilt of my head. “I’ll start a fire.” Two bottles of wine in hand, Sharlo stays a step behind as I make my way to the tree-trunk bench Asher made our senior year. When I hold the blanket out she steps forward, grinning in a cute-as-hell way as I wrap it around her shoulders. I hear the sound of her lips breaking the seal on the bottle as she takes a seat on the

bench, watching as I work on getting flames lit inside the metal fire ring. Once the fire’s going and I’m sitting at her side, she passes me the nearly empty bottle of wine. Despite the chilly air, I feel a surge of warmth when her thigh is pressed to mine even though the blanket and several layers of clothing separate us. All sorts of impure thoughts race through my brain. The things I’d love to do to her body, starting with those perfectly shaped lips and making my way south. I’ll bet she tastes as good as she smells…everywhere. I’m quick to shut them down before I become a grunting buffoon. Focus, meathead. “Now this is something you’d never see in the city!” she says. Titling her head back, she looks at the thick cluster of stars shining through the darkness. I can’t stop staring at her thick eyelashes brushing against her smooth skin. “Something about the serenity and knowing there isn’t a soul around for miles makes it quite lovely once you get past the idea that there could be massive bears milling about in the shadows.” “No bears around here.” I take a healthy gulp before passing the bottle back. “You should see it in the summer when everything’s green. The water’s usually thick with birds and butterflies.” She glances at me with a cute little smirk. “When I was little, my mum was always hopped up on narcotics so my dad would invent adventures to get me out of the house. I’ll never forget the first time he took me to Santa Cruz to watch the Monarchs migrate. The sky was thick with black and orange. Scared the shit out of me the first time one landed on my arm until Dad explained it was a sign of good luck. From there on out I was obsessed with the little buggers, even dressed as one every Halloween up through high school. Their beauty is what first got me interested in art.” Looking back up at the sky, she sighs loudly. “Sadly, our yearly visits to the migration stopped around the time I was eight when Dad began to travel the world for months at a time. How I miss those special visits. They were quite magical. Whenever I see a butterfly, it brings back the happy memories of my childhood.” A lump rises in my throat as she talks about her dad. Whatever memories I have with my dad are all I’m going to get in this lifetime. A searing band of pain stretches across my chest, threatening to break me. “Yeah,” I say quietly, not really sure what I’m agreeing to. She’s quiet a moment before gesturing to the pond. “Does this land belong to your family or will we be finishing out the remainder of this lovely evening behind bars for trespassing?” “It was my grandpa’s. My uncle and my dad dug this pond out when they were in high school. I threw a lot of wild parties here with my buddies back in our day. In the summer we’d drive my grandpa’s old Bronco full throttle over the hills and go skinny-dipping after dark. It was always packed with people on the weekends. The cops knew about the place. They probably knew we were drinking too, but they always left us alone to do our thing. One of the advantages of living in a small community, I guess. Dad was good friends with the sheriff.”

Her lips bend deeper with a sexy grin. The overwhelming need to taste them saves me from any more painful thoughts of Dad. “I adore the sound of Young James. Seems he was a rebellious bloke.” She pauses to give me a mischievous wink before sucking down the last of the wine and setting the empty bottle on the bench between us. “Your adult version could learn a thing or two about cutting loose from someone that reckless.” Staring down at the still water, the bitter feelings I’ve been working on controlling since Dad’s death creep back in. “Too much has changed since then,” I snarl as disturbing thoughts of the past resurface. My fingers dig into my knees as rage hardens my insides. No matter how hard I try, one way or another the people I love most always end up getting hurt. Dad’s brutal murder is proof that life will always find a way to knock me down whenever I think things might actually be okay. One of Sharlo’s small, cold hands touches my jaw, pulling me out of the darkness. My lungs don’t answer the need to breathe when I turn to meet her kind, sparkling gaze. The way she looks at me feels as if she’s taking a glimpse inside my soul, seeing me in a way no one else has. “It’s perfectly normal to be brassed off after what you’ve been through. If you need to punch something at the gym to channel your anger, then by all means, have at it. Just don’t let it consume you and make bloody sure it doesn’t come between you and those you care about.” As her fingers brush over my cheek, something carnal awakens inside of me and my balls pull tight. Ever since she told Ivy off, the raw desire to taste her has been growing, waiting to be realized. I can’t deny I want her in the worst fucking way. She’s kind and genuine. Someone I could place my trust in and no longer worry if everything would be okay, because it wouldn’t matter as long as she was mine. The way she continues looking at me with that soul-seeing vision, her thick eyelashes fluttering like butterflies, it’s useless to fight any longer. Like a monarch, she’s beautiful and untouchable, only coming into my life for a short time. I don’t intend to let the opportunity go to waste. With a burn spreading through my chest, I dip my face down to meet hers. When I pause a mere inch away, inhaling her vanilla scent, she brings her other hand up to my jaw. Her gaze draws down to watch as her thumb brushes across the crack in my bottom lip where Asher almost knocked me down. Electrified by her touch, I move in to claim her mouth without holding back. Her lips are incredibly soft and taste like the sweet wine she’s drinking. They answer mine stroke-for-stroke, almost as desperate. I growl when her fingers twist my hair and her warm tongue finds its way inside my mouth, lapping against my own. The fiery, demanding kiss leaves no doubt in my mind that Sharlo is the kind of confident woman who knows exactly what she wants. And right now she wants me. I fist the silky hair at the back of her head and draw her in closer to make it clear just how badly I want her in return. She’s everything I didn’t know I was looking for in a woman and more. Wrapped

in her irresistible scent and the strawberry flavor of her moist tongue, my cock demands attention. The urgent need to fill her gnaws inside my chest, turning my brain to mush. Everything except this beautiful woman giving herself to me fades away. When she suddenly draws back, eyes glossed and full lips raw from the kiss, I’m barely able to hold back the urge to draw her in again. “It’s brass monkeys out here,” she tells me in a breathy voice. She bats her thick eyelashes and grins. “Take me to the hotel and warm me up.” I’m so caught up in the idea of getting her naked that I can’t form any words in response. Shooting up from the bench, I grab her hand and we run back to the truck like a couple of eager teenagers who know damn well time is of the essence. Only instead of facing a curfew, we’re facing the fact that we don’t know if or when we’ll see each other again after she leaves. Once we're sitting together in the truck, I push the console up and wrap my arm around her back, holding her close at my side. Part of me is worried she’ll disappear and I’ll discover this really was some kind of fucked-up, grief-induced dream. When I turn the key and the engine roars to life, she rests her head against my chest and runs circles with her fingers across my breastbone and down my stomach. The innocent gesture is hell on my fading control. A raging need consumes every inch of my body as I continually run my hand up and down her arm, bending several times to kiss the top of her head. Neither of us says a word, but there’s a crackling energy between us that speaks volumes. A cynical part of me knows messing around with my sister’s best friend is all kinds of wrong, breaking some unwritten code. If it somehow changed things between the two of them, I’d never forgive myself. But Sharlo’s only in town for a few days, and right now I need to feel a real connection to another human. I need something real to remind me life isn’t all shit and there are still things worth fighting for. The more thought I put into the situation, however, the more I come to realize it’s selfish. This probably won’t be the last time we see each other considering she’s like a sister to Evelyn. What if she forever thinks of me as some heartless bastard who used her for one night of fun? What if being together this one time somehow ruins this beautiful woman? It’s late by the time Sharlo retrieves her key from the hotel’s front desk and leads me through the quiet building into her room, locking the door behind us. My eyes are sweeping over the outdated decor when she grabs me by the collar of my coat. Standing on her tiptoes, she pulls me down to finish where we left off, gripping my short hair and ravaging me with her velvety mouth. I should be the voice of reason and stop this before everything changes. But the inherent need to be buried deep inside her takes over, and I feel like I’m going to lose my fucking mind. There’s no stopping now. We’re still kissing as she kicks her shoes off, and I fumble with the buttons on her coat. After a minute she pushes my hand away to do it herself until it falls to the floor with a quiet thud. We work together on removing my coat next. It makes a

much louder noise when it hits the thin hotel carpet. My chilled fingers nudge the hem of her soft sweater up to stroke the warm skin on the small of her back. She’s so silky and smooth to the touch that I worry I’ll blow a load inside my sweats. Does all of her feel this wonderful? “This okay?” I ask against her lips. Humming with consent, she seals her mouth over mine and arches into my hard body. Possessed with the need to explore every inch of her soft skin, I break the kiss and lower to my knees on the floor, lifting her sweater higher to drag my lips over her belly and upward. She bends to cradle my head and hums again in the most delicious sound as I give every last exposed, delicate inch of her the attention it deserves. Soon she’s grabbing the bottom of her sweater and slipping it over her head, giving me an unobscured view of her stomach and generous breasts spilling out from a sexy red bra. Her feminine body is even more amazing than I could’ve hoped for. She’s nothing short of perfect. A low sound vibrates in my chest when I make my way up to the angel-soft swells of her cleavage. Once again she cradles my head in her hands when her body arches up to meet mine, silently begging for more. I pop a breast free from the satiny material, rolling her pink nipple with my finger and thumb until it’s puckered and rock hard. She’s already moaning before I bring my lips in for a turn, sucking on it while massaging her other hardened tit with my hand. “You can’t imagine how divine that feels,” she whispers in a strangled voice, seeming to have lost all control the way her hands desperately tug at my hair. A second later she unhooks her bra in back before pulling the straps down her arms and dropping it at her side. “They’re all yours,” she purrs with a sexy little grin. God, she doesn’t even need beauty. Her confidence alone is a fucking turn-on that I’ve never known before. Though her breasts are considerably round and full for someone so long-limbed and skinny, there’s no doubt in my mind they’re real as I continue to explore each of her knobbed, pink nipples with my tongue and massage the flesh with my fingers. The pleased noises she makes while squeezing her arms around my skull tighten my balls and call to my darkest desires waiting to be unleashed. “Give me a hand, luv,” she coos, wiggling her hips. I help pull her torn jeans down her legs, revealing a silky red thong between her smooth hips. A noise that sounds like a feral wolf gurgles through my throat. The need to conquer her body strikes my core with the power of lightening. Pressing my shoulder into her stomach, I hoist her body into the air. The squeal she releases gets cut short when I toss her down on the hotel bed and stare into her eyes, desire overtaking every fiber of my being. After tugging the small piece of material down her legs, I brush my fingers over her mound a few times before sinking them inside the damp spot between her legs while returning to ravage her lips. She makes this sexy little purr inside my mouth that propels my mind to an

entirely new level of desire. Jesus, I can’t imagine ever getting enough of her. I’m so lost in the feel of her slick warmth against my fingers that I don’t notice right away she’s yanking the end of my sweatshirt. “You’re wearing far too many clothes,” she whispers against my lips. Caught in the depths of her ocean-blue gaze, filled with expectation and hope, I turn to stone. Can I live with the fact that she might see me as an asshole when it’s all said and done? This feels too much like a cheap one-night stand. There’s no promise of a future relationship. How can there be when she’s heading back in a few days? “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I say, licking my lips. Her eyes dart upward to meet the hotel ceiling. “Don’t be daft. Unless you’re actually seeing that psychotic tart, there’s no reason why we can’t. We’re two consenting adults with needs. This doesn’t actually have to mean anything unless, of course, you’re unprepared without a condom in your wallet in which case I must warn you I’m in no position to be a mum at this stage in my life. It’s a small miracle I’ve been able to properly tend to myself this long.” When I only smirk in response, she sits up and nudges me back until she’s able to get a better hold on my sweatshirt. “Arms up, then. I promise to make this worth your time.” Once my sweatshirt has been discarded on the floor, her eyes lock on my chest and darken with lust. “I don’t know about you, but this has already been worth the price of admission.” Then her fingers move for the waistband of my pants and my heart flops up into my throat. “Alright then. I do believe it’s your turn.”

CHAPTER 4

SHARLO

J

ames Kendall is an anomaly in every sense of the word. As he moves toward me without a stitch of clothing and a condom rolled into place on his impossibly large cock, I’m stunned beyond intelligible conversation. From his broad shoulders down to his thick calves, he’s massive in every way imaginable. So much that my body becomes an inferno with the mere idea of him filling me. Forget Thor and that gorgeous Aussie who portrayed him. I’ve discovered a bloody deity. As always, James is a man of few words, but his gaze tells its own story when it feasts on what I have to bring to the table. I may not have the ideal body type with what my grandmum calls “child-bearing hips” and one breast slightly larger than the other, but James doesn’t seem to mind. Despite feeling far from the desirable type, he makes me feel truly wanted like no man has before. I can’t recall a time when I was this unbelievably turned on. How is it possible to feel the start of an orgasmic bliss when he’s hardly begun to touch me? An animalistic growl vibrates though his throat when he crawls over me and slips a sausage-sized finger between my legs. He’s made me so wet that I’m surprised it doesn’t slip right back out. I gasp when his rough thumb brushes over my clit with a gentle stroke and then back once more. “Come for me, little butterfly,” he whispers against my ear. Hold on. Did he really just call me that? By god, he’s dominate and sweet as shit. “That can be easily arranged,” I gasp out with the first bright wave clenching my pussy. While one of my hands explores every muscle on his colossal chest and the other clings to his thick shoulder, I bend in to gingerly take his wounded lip between my teeth. The faint taste of blood lingers on his dried skin, tainting the moment with a hint of danger. He takes my lips in another eager kiss, sucking my tongue before releasing it and starting all over once more. The man kisses just as one would imagine from someone of his size, powerfully and potently. Confident. As his lips work over mine, I’m filled with his musk as well as an entirely foreign feeling. I’m not sure what to think of it. I’ve clearly fancied a go with him since the night we met in my flat and even more so after Evelyn’s wedding. This, however, this is a connection unlike anything. It locks my

breath inside my lungs and makes my heart skip a beat. His thumb coaxes the delightful swell between my legs to rise higher until I swear I’ll never be able to catch my breath again. “Let yourself feel it,” he demands, pinching and rolling my clit with his fingers. “Give it to me, baby. I want everyone in this building to hear you come.” I have no qualms in complying, letting the divine feeling wash over me until I’m seeing stars and planets and a whole galaxy. Digging my nails into his back, the release comes while belting his name and wailing in a sound that would make anyone in the hotel aware of what this beautiful man is doing to me. As I’m coming down and attempting to collect myself, my lady bits still doing a mambo, the smooth head of his rigid cock rubs against my slick opening. “You want this?” “Yes please,” I breathe with a desperate gasp. “How bad do you want it?” “Just give it to me, sweetheart, and I beg you, don’t be gentle.” His somewhat amused gaze connects with mine, sending my insides on an upward spiral of giddy pleasure. No longer hesitating, he pushes his way inside of me until I’m filled to the hilt, stretching to fit every last inch of his delightful girth. Bloody hell, he really is as immense as I had envisioned. “Goddamn, you feel so good,” he tells me between clenched teeth. “So tight.” From the moment he’s drawing back to pound inside me again, darkness seizing his handsome face, I silently curse the heavens for not sending him my way earlier. Nothing has ever felt this good or so right. He fucks the way he fights, hard and unrelenting. My fingernails dig into the flexing muscles in his back as his phenomenal body works above me. “Jesus, Sharlo,” he growls out, saying my name in a prayer. Then he bends and reclaims my mouth, stroking my tongue with his and every so often dragging his teeth across my bottom lip. Beseeched with a craving to possess this beautiful man, I wrestle him down to his back and settle on my knees, having a go at taking control. James meets my lunges and grips onto my hips so tightly it’d be downright painful were it not for the divine way he slams into every delightful inch of my tingling center. Paired with the intensity of his beautiful eyes, it isn’t long before I’m reaching the point of no return for a second time and spewing his name among a string of curses. A sweet vibration rocks my womb, making my mind dumb with pleasure. James flips us around so my back is on the mattress once more. He gently holds me in place with a large hand on my sternum and rams his cock into my tingling core. Eyes drawn blank and body moving like a machine, a beast takes residence inside his beautiful body, ravenous and wild. It’s a bit terrifying while somehow being exciting, adding to my already satiated high. With nothing more than the spine-tingling look he’s giving me, a raw desire begins to build up once again, desperate for liberation. His hand moves up with a gentle but firm hold on my throat. All at once he’s

roaring with another sexy growl, twitching above me as he finds his own release. His eyes close before he rests his head in the crook of my neck, suddenly becoming still. “That was bloody amazing,” I say, lazily running my fingertips across the taut skin of his hip. With my words he dislodges himself and rolls onto his back at my side, releasing a deep breath while staring up at the ceiling. It would seem the beast has been caged and surly James has returned. I turn on my side to face him, offering a charming smile. “I’m kicking myself for having self-control all those months ago when you came to New York.” Stone-faced, James rolls off the bed and disposes of the condom in the bathroom before returning to dress like the room is encased in flames. Not only does something feel off by the way he avoids looking my way, but it also makes me feel like some kind of slag. “Did I say something wrong?” I ask, wondering if he can hear the bite to my words. “I have to go,” he replies, slipping into his coat. Without another word, he’s gone from the room, leaving me to stare at the worn ceiling. Restless and aching in the most delicious way, I’m left to wonder if sleeping with someone going through such a distressing experience was, in fact, a mistake. It seems inevitable it was a one-night thing. This couldn't possibly be anything more. James lives in an entirely different world from the hustle and bustle of the city that I adore. This was nothing more than two lonely souls looking for a thrill. Besides, anyone I’ve ever developed deep feelings for has left. Dad was always absent, working impossible hours, Mum returned to England with her drugs, and even Evelyn left to be with her husband, though I can’t say I blame her. And Richard, the only man I ever gave my heart to, felt a need to get his rocks off elsewhere. Why should I expect James to be any different? As I drift off to sleep, I’m unable to stop dwelling on the intensity of James’s gaze or the delightfully feminine way he made me feel. The man has essentially ruined me for any future suitors, and I kind of fancy the idea.

T he next couple of days James is so caught up in the planning of their dad’s

service, checking in with the authorities, meeting with the family attorney, and dealing with incoming siblings, that we aren’t afforded any time alone. Or so I tell myself. I can't pretend he isn’t going out of his way to avoid my company when that seems to be exactly the case. At least Evelyn doesn’t seem to notice anything is off when I do my best to play the loyal mate, consoling her at every turn and being the rock she needs whenever Charlie is busy. After the service and burial, Evelyn’s family gathers in the small basement of a church for sandwiches and the strangest array of warm “hot-dishes” as they call them. James was understandably stoic when I passed through the queue with

Lorenzo and Dante to convey my sympathies, though I swear he held onto me a little longer when we embraced. His eyes didn’t so much as linger on me for an added second; however, before he was greeting the old woman behind me. While a part of me still likes to think we shared a special connection that night in my hotel room, I’m also struggling with the notion that I took advantage of him in a time of weakness. Weary of the idle conversation between Charlie’s bodyguard and some of Evelyn’s older relatives, I take the time to study the closest members of Evelyn’s family from afar. At her wedding, it was painfully clear the siblings had drifted apart in their separate corners of life. Now, as they’re made orphans, it would do them good to sort things out, make the best of what they have. While I, myself, am the product of a money-hungry workaholic and a brainless, pill-popping drifter who never assimilated my need for a traditional family, my heart aches when I consider their dad may have been the last thread holding this family together. Braden, the youngest of the three boys but quite easily the largest, flew in on the first available flight home from his military assignment in Japan, barely making it in time for the service. Standing near the kitchen, he flirts with two young women, flashing a sly grin at every opportunity. In dress blues and a neatly cropped hairdo, he’s clean cut as well as the most approachable of the bunch despite his intimidatingly immense size. I was easily charmed by his soft brown gaze when he took me out for a dance at Evelyn and Charlie’s wedding. Though a bit too cocky for his own good, I favor his personality the most of James and Evelyn’s siblings. Angelina, the oldest child, fills up half the room with nothing more than her striking presence. With a natural, fair grace comparable to Princess Kate and the man-eating gaze of Beyoncé, she’s bloody intimidating. The way everyone flocks to console her, one would think she was the celebrity and not her brother-in-law. Evelyn mentioned her oldest sister is rather dramatic and has been struggling through an identity crisis of sorts while living down in Miami. Beyond that, she’s a bit of a mystery. As for their middle sister, Sofia, that one’s as hard as an ice sculpture despite being beautiful and able to make a yawn-worthy pants suit look couture. The way the funeral director fidgets as she speaks with a stern look, it would seem she’s putting her law school tricks to practical use. I’ve done my best to avoid any interaction with either of Evelyn’s sisters, worried they’d eat me alive. Evelyn, Charlie, and his sister Katie, gather in a huddle with James and their uncle. It hurts my heart to see my friend in so much pain, but knowing her husband refuses to leave her side and make her go through this alone lessens the pain to a manageable degree. James is an entirely different story. Beautiful face hard and lined with stress, body drawn tight, he’s in the same state he was the night we discovered him in the boxing ring. Angry and cold. Hardened inside and out with a steel gate around his heart. The weight he’s carrying on his shoulders makes him appear decades beyond his 24 years. His chocolaty eyes drift across the room, from sibling to sibling, like

he’s taking stock of their well-being. Their mighty protector. I’m struck with the urge to run to him and wrap as much of his massive body I’m able to in my arms, wanting to absorb a bit of his worry. My body vibrates with the memory of him touching me until I had reached the highest of highs in my sexual conquests. Whatever transpired between us was unshakable and I yearn for another opportunity to feel his beautiful lips on my skin. Once again I swear he can sense that I’m ogling him like a nutter when his complex gaze finds me. His body appears to tense so tightly that it’s a miracle the chords in his neck don’t burst from all the pressure. Something dark flickers inside the depths of those brown orbs—I haven’t the faintest idea if it’s repressed anger or something more convoluted he’s projecting across the room. All I know is the ferocity of it all sends delicious tingles down my spine. Though no one is paying any attention to the strange British girl, I excuse myself from the table and stumble out to the hallway. Suspecting James regrets our tryst the other night along with grieving the unexplained loss of a great man has my noggin spinning. Rubbing at my temples, I stare out a window onto the barren landscape of the cold, blustery afternoon. “Don’t worry, this will be over before long, and we’ll be heading uptown for drinks,” someone says from behind me. I spin around, thinking it’s the voice of James, only I’m met with a strikingly similar version. Though I’d only spoken briefly with Hunter at the wedding and hugged him in the reception line after the memorial service, I’d be able to spot their differences a hundred miles from afar. Not only is Hunter giving me a smart look that I’ve never seen cross through James’s expression, but his body language is relaxed. And then there's his notably smaller, lanky frame, clearly indicating he’s not one to express his anger with his fists all hours of the day. But most telling is the lack of unimaginable torture reflected in his beautiful brown eyes. “Alcohol does have the power to make everything hurt a bit less,” I agree. Wrapping my arms around myself, I offer him a smile. “How’re you holding up?” “I’ve had better days,” he answers, shrugging. His splayed fingers pass through his thick hair. “Nothing could’ve prepared my family for this kind of shit.” “It’s unimaginable. You have my deepest sympathies, all of you. I just wish there was more I could do for your lot. I imagine the ongoing investigation will wear you down over time.” “You want to know what I think?” He steps closer, encasing me in a musky, sandalwood scent. It’s lovely, but it does nothing for me the way the sweaty, raw scent of James did. Head titled to the side, Hunter’s eyes dance when he flashes a dimpled smile. “You’ve already done plenty.” I fall back a step. “I beg your pardon?” “Ev said you’re the first person she’s ever seen talk James down from one of his moods. When your name comes up or he catches Braden flirting with you, he gets surlier than usual. And last night when I asked Katie if you were single, he said he was going to Cupp’s and stormed out of the room.” Closing the distance between

us, he laughs and shakes his head about. “I’ve never seen anything like it. My brother’s a hard nut to crack. You must’ve cast some kind of spell on him because I’ve never seen him act this way before.” As I’m wracking my brain for some sort of a reply, deciding if I should tell him to bugger off or delve more into his brother’s history, his eyes flash to something over my shoulder and he laughs. “Speak of the devil, here he is!” First I hear the dull thud of footsteps on the outdated linoleum floor, then James is suddenly at my side, casting a colossal shadow of severity. It’s difficult to ignore how fit the dark gray suit, crisp oxford, and black tie make him. Jaw freshly shaven and hair neatly combed down, I have to remind myself the poor bloke just finished burying his dad, so I won’t leap into his arms. Yet there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop the longing from climbing up into my throat, making my body heady for more of James Kendall. I’m unable to miss the flash of jealousy that flickers through his stormy gaze when he glances between me and his twin. “Everything alright?” he asks. “Just taking a moment to sort out the differences between you and your other half,” I say, reaching up to stroke his thick arm. He withdraws a little beneath my touch. Whether it’s because he’s angry, confused, regretful, or whatever the reason, I don’t care. Knowing he needs someone to show him that he doesn’t have to carry everyone else’s burdens as his own, I wrap my arm around his waist and nestle myself against his hard frame in a way that hopefully appears nothing more than friendly to anyone watching. “Have you had anything to eat or drink since this morning?” The thick tongue that had me soaking my knickers days ago appears to wet his dry lips. Though he becomes notably less rigid, the tempest in his eyes refuses to clear. “Don’t worry about me.” “The girl clearly wants to worry about you, bro,” Hunter tells him, snickering. “No one ever said you had to be the guardian of the family.” He claps his brother on the arm and steps away. “I’m off to gather the guys and head out. We’ll meet you up at the bar.” Looking up into James’s hardened gaze, my heart staggers with unsteady beats. I regret not stepping forward the past couple of days and forcing him to let me in past his stony exterior straightaway. He’s merely lost in the chaos that followed after having his family’s cornerstone unceremoniously ripped from their lives. He simply needs a gentle reminder that it’s okay not to be in control of everything, that it’s okay to let go and feel the raw burn of pain every once in awhile. “Your somewhat skewed mirror image is absolutely right,” I say once we’re alone. “Let down the fortress you’ve built around yourself and let me storm the castle while I’m here. What can I do for you, James? How can I make it hurt a little less?” When his eyebrows draw together, I’m struck with a nagging desire to curl up inside his embrace and make the rest of the world disappear. There isn’t a thing I wouldn't give to see the rare, rather bashful smile I’ve been given the privilege of

seeing only a few times before. The tension is palpable when he bends his head down and nudges my chin back with his hand. I stutter on a sharp breath, anticipating what’s to come as I steady myself on his thick hip. The intoxicating scent of clean-shaven James surrounds me with a cloud of lust. I close my eyes when his warm, thick lips brush over the skin below my ear. “The things you can do for me can’t be done inside a church,” he whispers. With a quiet moan, my throat and my vagina contract tightly in a move that would make synchronized swimmers envious. “Please tell me it’s possible for it to be done in a hotel room, no matter how tacky the decor may be.” James pulls away without any sort of answer. When I open my eyes, he’s moving back toward the reception area with a hurried gait that would suggest he can’t get away soon enough. How could I have possibly misread his suggestion? A shameful pang of rejection fills me. Then he looks over his shoulder with a dark look that takes my breath away. “Meet me by my truck in ten minutes.” That’s more like it. Evelyn is so caught up in everything that she doesn’t think to ask how when I let her know I’m stopping by the hotel and will meet them at the bar. Not that the town is too big nor are my heels too high that I couldn’t walk the mile or what have you, but I believe her head’s still spinning from watching them lower her last surviving parent into the ground. As I’m sitting beside James in his large pickup truck nearly fifteen minutes later, practically hugging the door so he won't be forced to answer any unwanted questions of anyone who spots us, I war with my conscience that reminds me he’s still in mourning. How much of what we’re doing will he come to regret later on? What’s to say he won’t storm out of the hotel room once more? Then again, why do I care? The sex was phenomenal and well worth the threat of rejection. Following James’s lead, I don’t say a word on the short ride, nor do I open my mouth to say we should stop when we’re outside the hotel and he comes around to open my door. I don’t utter a sound until we’re inside my utterly minuscule room, surrounded once more by the dreadfully outdated patterns of cheap bedding and polyester curtains. The only logical fix to the decor would seem to be a torch and a bulldozer. I anxiously glance at the small bed, wondering how James and I could both possibly fit if he decided to stay the night. Hearing the chain on the door, I look up to see James stalking toward me like a feral beast, shedding his suit jacket before unbuttoning his oxford along the way. I release a quiet squeal of surprise when my back hits the wall. All at once I’m made breathless by the variety of emotions swirling through his eyes as they devour me. Square jaw tense, broad shoulders straight and back, tongue wetting his thick lips, he’s ready to attack. Bloody hell, how I adore the brusque, savage side of this man who has already shown me exactly what’s been absent from my life. When he releases his belt

buckle and yanks down the zipper, letting his dress pants drop to the floor, I know I’m in for the shagging of a lifetime and can’t get my dress and undergarments off quickly enough. My knickers are still hooked on one foot and my heels are still in place when he hoists me into the air and slams me into the wall before sealing his hot mouth over mine. I wrap myself around him and bury my fingers in his lush hair, meeting every stroke of his demanding tongue and strong lips. He tastes like the best kind of combination of danger and goodness all wrapped together in a confusing bundle of lust. Filled with his manly scent, the stale odor of the old hotel room all at once disappears. Heaven knows how on earth I’ll kiss another man again without comparing it to this moment, without remembering the way he sends an eager hand up to flick my nipple while the other digs into my bare bum like he’s claiming me as his prize. I release a gasp inside his mouth before sucking his tongue with all I’ve got. There’s so much barbarity behind his end of the kiss that before long, my head is spinning about. Only mentally, of course. But James is relentless. He doesn’t stop, once again releasing the beast lying dormant within. I reach down between us to stroke his hard length over his boxer-briefs, finding it as strained and angry as James himself. “Let yourself feel this,” I whisper. “Let me take on some of your burden.” With my coaxing, it’s as if his resolve has literally broken and he loses every last bit of control. His mouth and hands are everywhere at once with no promise of being gentle or stopping any time soon. On my lips, in my hair, on my breasts, between my legs, biting my neck, bruising and hard. He even breaks the clasp on my string of pearls, sending them scattering to the floor. It’s the most erotic moment of my lifetime. So much that I swear my skin is literally consumed in fire, singeing against my bones. Before I can process anything, he literally growls against my mouth and enters me with a ferocity so grand that I’m unable to make a sound when I gasp for air. I’m incapable of doing anything beyond sinking my fingers into the corded muscles of his fit body and holding on for dear life while he thrusts into me again and again, fucking me senseless. Despite the chill to the airless hotel room, our bodies become slick with sweat as they slap together and the strong musk of James amplifies my already wanton desire. The beast inside peering out from those warm, brown eyes clearly wants more than I can give, though I do my best to please and match its hunger. The grand build of pleasure is divine against my neglected clit, and I break apart like a vase thrown against a wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces beyond repair. I’m completely dependent on his powerful arms to hold me up as I collapse, shivering against his hard chest as he continues his torturous pace, too blind with want to understand the need to become gentle. Then, finally with a deep grunt, his hips meet mine for one final thrust before his rigid body softens and he practically collapses on top of me, trapping me against the wall. The moment I feel a trickle of

warmth filling me, my heart nearly gives way with a stunning realization too potent to ignore. I haven’t bothered with birth control since I sent my ex packing. And neither of us stopped to think about a condom. Bloody hell.

CHAPTER 5

JAMES

nce I’m able to catch my breath and blink past the dark spots hovering behind O my eyelids, the complexity of everything comes into focus. I’d never set my dark

side loose on a woman like that. I normally reserve that shit for the ring, where it belongs. But Sharlo somehow lured it out, allowing me to transfer every misplaced feeling of aggression on her instead of letting it fester. Something about the gorgeous little blonde ball of fire makes me feel more alive and free than I’ve ever felt wearing a pair of boxing gloves. And damn it, the burn was sensational. “Let me down,” she says, her face suddenly pale. I feel her quivering in my arms. She’s so upset she can’t even look at me. I’m a goddamned monster. “Did I hurt you?” I ask, carefully placing her back on her feet. She slips away to the bathroom without answering, closing the door with a soft click. I fist my hair and look down, ready to throttle myself for losing all control on someone like her. Then the sight of my half-hard dick in the wild, drizzled with cum, shoots a bolt of fear down my spine. Motherfucker. I wasn’t seeing straight when I rammed into her like a caveman. Hearing the sound of the shower churns my stomach. The last time we were together she mentioned she wasn’t interested in having sex without a condom. What if she isn’t on birth control? I was so caught up in my own world that I didn’t once stop to think about the sweet girl I was using for my warped pleasure. I grab a few tissues off the sink-top and clean myself before getting dressed. The sight of the clothes I wore to Dad’s funeral, rumpled in a pile on the floor has the effect of a hard blow to the stomach. I’ve managed to make the shittiest day of my life even worse, something I won’t ever be able to forget. As I’m throwing my coat on, Sharlo comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her damp body, dry hair secured behind her head. “I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I wasn’t thinking.” A forced smile surfaces when she catches my weary glance. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Clearly neither of us were thinking properly.” “But it’s my responsibility. And it still will be my responsibility if you get pregnant. I wouldn’t let you raise the kid on your own.” “Don’t be ridiculous. This was nothing more than a good time. And it’s not a

viable option to co-parent with someone who lives light-years beyond the subway route.” Until this moment, it never occurred to me how much I want children. I figured I’d have a family eventually if I ever found the right woman and didn’t put much thought into it otherwise. The idea of her denying me the right to my kid, even if this was a fling, creates a tight band across my chest. “We’d figure something out,” I say. “It’s too soon for this sort of conversation, yeah? The little nugget would hardly be a living thing this early on.” She tightens the towel under her arms and pulls her shoulders back. “Please, give me a moment of privacy while I hide any evidence of what just transpired. Your sister’s a clever one and will have questions. If it’s all the same to you, I’ve had enough drilling for one day.” A small swell of anger surges inside my gut as I cross my arms, unwilling to sweep the subject under the rug. But she moves over to open the door, tapping her bare foot against the thin carpet, leaving no room for any more argument. “Off you go, then. I’ll be down before long.” I close the distance between us, unable to stop myself from caressing the smooth skin on her cheeks. Though her jaw remains hard, her eyes close and she leans into my touch. She’s far from being someone fragile in need of protection, but the constant defender in me screams that I need to take care of her all the same. And I managed to fuck that up by acting like a selfish bonehead. When I bend down, her lips part with a silent sigh before meeting mine for a slow, meaningful kiss. My cock hardens when she reaches up to twist her fingers in my hair and pushes her soft body against mine. There’s nothing I’d like more than to make gentle love to her all night, but I’ve already done enough damage and she made it sound like what we did was meaningless to her, so I pull away. Her eyes are still closed when I mutter, “I’ll be waiting in the truck.”

A s the subdued bar attempts to celebrate Dad’s life with his favorite Johnny Cash

tunes blasting from the jukebox, Sharlo carries on like nothing happened between us, capturing the attention of every dick within swinging distance just by being her cheerful self. Though I’d like to knock every single one of the pricks on their ass for even giving her the time of day, I sulk behind a pitcher of beer instead, watching her from a bar stool. When the second one is gone, I tap it against the bar top. Patsy, the bar’s long-time manager, appears with her hands on her hips. I’m grateful to see her eyes narrowed skeptically. It beats the dopey, sympathy-filled looks I’ve been getting all day. “I know you’re hurtin', hun, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you drink this much. Are you sure you don't want to take it easy?” Someone claps me on the back so hard that I almost reel around to take a swing at them.

“Six shots of Jose, Pats!” Asher hollers at her, taking the empty stool at my side. The dickhead looks completely out of place in a dress shirt and pressed pants instead of the usual jeans and rock band T-shirt he wears when serving drinks. Meeting my hardened gaze, he pats my arm. “You look like you could use it, buddy.” “No shots for me,” I insist, shaking my head. “It’s for Dad,” Braden says, moving in on my other side. “It wouldn’t be right if we didn’t salute him with his favorite.” “You’re not twenty-one,” I remind him before pressing my lips tight. “Like that ever stopped you?” Hunter asks from over my shoulder. As Patsy pours tequila into six shot glasses on the bar in front of me, I grumble to myself. I’m going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. The shots are handed out to my best friend and brothers, as well as Charlie, who hands me the last one. Asher holds his shot glass high. “To Frank Kendall, one hell of a father, friend, and mentor. You’ll be sorely missed, buddy. This town will never be the same without you.” The other guys answer with an “Amen” and other agreeable cheers. Moisture stings my eyes as I clink glasses with a couple of the guys before chugging the searing liquid down. I swipe the sixth drink off the bar and slug it down too, welcoming the warm glow in my gut. “That was Dad’s,” Braden says quietly, sounding as if I just kicked a puppy. When I discover the others staring at me with the same kind of disbelief as my little brother, I shrug. “Not like he can drink it.” “That was a dick thing to say,” he snaps, slamming his empty glass on the bar. “Stop acting like the world owes you a favor! You’re not the only one who buried their dad today, jackass!” “No, but me and Hunter are the only ones who stuck around to make sure he was taken care of,” I answer. “Unlike everyone else in this family, we didn’t do the selfish thing by moving as far away as possible.” “Come on, JD,” Asher says, pulling on my arm. “Don’t be starting that shit tonight.” I shrug him off as Braden leans over me, nostrils flaring. He’s big enough to be in my weight class and the little shit has enough spirit to put up a good fight. “If you have a problem with me signing up to protect this country, then say it to my face!” Anger at myself sears my veins. I don’t have a problem with him fighting for our country—in fact I’m even prouder of him than Dad ever was—and I never should’ve implied that. But I welcome the surge of adrenaline that comes with the idea of fighting my cocky little brother who thinks he has the entire world by its horns. I stand suddenly, sending the bar stool to the floor with a loud thunk, and meet him eye-to-eye. “Let’s take this outside and see what you’ve got, tough guy!” As Braden and I stand ready to go, the song ends and the place becomes silent as

everyone watches on. Hunter wedges his way in-between us, eyes narrowed with a stern look. “Not the time nor the place for this, brother. Everyone’s here to honor Dad.” I shake my head slowly in warning, jaw clenched and hands clenched at my sides. “Step back. This doesn’t involve you.” “You’re wrong!” he answers, shoving my chest with both hands. “This involves all of us! He’s family, James! The same family you’re always bending over fucking backwards to protect! We all know you’re pissed that someone murdered Dad and we know you like to punch things to make yourself feel better, but this isn’t the way you do it! Especially not today!” I flinch with the feel of small fingers wrapping around my wrist. “James,” Sharlo pleads in a patient but stern tone. I turn to face her. The simple act of looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes softens the hard ball wound tight inside my gut. “The only one kicking any ass tonight will be me if you don’t come along for a breath of fresh air.” That confusing feeling I get whenever she’s around makes a comeback, transforming every irrational thought inside my head into a white fuzz. Gazing into her ocean-colored stare, tension falls from my body like a snake shedding its skin. When my shoulders relax and I inhale a deep breath, her lips quirk with a smile as she slips her hand into mine. My gut coils tightly with her touch. “Carry on, gentlemen,” she tells my brothers and Asher. They watch on with variations of parted lips and wide eyes as she pulls me toward the exit. Outside the chill of the early spring evening greets us in a gust of wind. With a shiver, Sharlo drops my hand to wrap her arms around herself. My eyes drink in the curves underneath the black dress she’s been wearing all day and I suddenly want nothing more than to get her naked again. My balls throb with the idea. “Eyes up here,” she sings, clearing her throat. When our gazes meet, she smiles in a way that makes her blue eyes sparkle underneath the bar door’s light. “Now then. I still may not know you from Bob at this point, but it’s abundantly clear you’re struggling with your dad’s death—as you should. No one should have to endure the grizzly sight of their parent having been stabbed to death. It breaks my heart whenever I wonder what it must be like for you, knowing his killer is still out there somewhere. It’s perfectly normal to be angry and hurt. That’s to be expected. But unless you’re in a ring with a willing opponent, you mustn’t resort to violence. It’s not okay to unleash your beast on your loved ones who are depending on you to help them through this.” Eyebrows drawing together, I shake my head. “Unleash my what?” She steps forward to place a hand over my heart and then tilts her head back to look me in the eye again. “I truly wish I could stay and help you through this because it’s clear you need someone in your corner. But I’m flying out to California tomorrow to visit with my dad and I promised your sister I’d be there for Charlie’s first concert in LA on Tuesday. She’s going to need all the support she can get with all the dreadfully rabid paparazzi that will want an exclusive on your father’s

murder. I’d suggest you put serious thought into either finding a therapist who can help you through this, or finding a way to isolate yourself long enough to properly work it out with your fists. At the rate you’re going, you’re bound to end arse-up in some random alley with missing teeth and a banged-up head.” After all she said, the only thing I can focus on is the fact that she’s leaving. The only good thing to come along after losing my hero is going away. I’ve come to rely on the sight of her beautiful smile to pull me out of the darkness, the sound of her sweet voice to ease the pain. Once she’s gone, there won’t be anything to distract me from my sinister thoughts. Sharlo tugs on my arm until I lean down enough for her to wrap herself around my neck in a warm embrace that somehow seems more intimate than just a hug. I snake one hand around her waist and the other inside her thick hair, pressing my fingers against the smooth, soft skin on her neck to hold her close. Though I’ve never been the touchy-feely type, something about having her in my arms feels natural. Like we are meant to somehow fit together. Knowing I probably won’t have the chance to see her again for a long time, I relish in the feel of her soft breasts pushed into my chest, the steady flutter of her heart. I nuzzle my face into the sexy curve of her neck, committing her vanilla scent and the tickle of her silky hair on my face to memory. Wishing I had the courage to ask her to find a way to stay and to give me another chance, my arms tighten around her little frame instead. She clings to me in return, reigniting the constant pull I feel when she’s close. “If you find out you’re pregnant, I’ll be there for you,” I whisper. “Oh, James,” she sighs in a tone that sounds both pleading and desperate. I pry her shaking shoulders back far enough to stare into the pacific blue depths of her gaze. My heart pounds so hard inside my chest that I’m sure she can feel it shaking my entire body. There’s so much I want to say—to thank her and apologize for fucking up, to ask her to return to the hotel one last time and tell her I don’t want this to end. But the words stick in my throat. Finally, I seal my mouth over hers, hoping she’ll feel everything I want to say with a hard kiss. Reluctantly, her lips and tongue answer while she makes a little noise inside my mouth and digs her fingers into my neck. My hands glide up and down her body, appreciating the tightness of her ass and the way she seems ready to tackle me down to the sidewalk. She’s so much more than just a hot body, but having her wrapped around me is enough in itself that I want to drag her away and have her all to myself. Suddenly, she pulls back. With the side of her temple resting against my cheek, her butterfly-like lashes brushing over my skin, she whispers, “You’re a good man, James Kendall. And you will survive this. Don’t let your anger consume you.” When she leaves my arms, I’m struck with a chill and her absence creates a gaping hole in my chest. In losing her, I’m losing the only thing keeping me grounded. I’m so busy wading through self-pity when she begins to walk away that the

sight of my brother-in-law standing in the bar’s entrance hits me harder than taking a sucker punch in the gut. So much for keeping this a secret from Evelyn. Calm and collected, Sharlo simply bobs her head at him in greeting. The fact that she’s so casual with him like he’s any other guy makes me respect her personality even more. She’s nothing like any other woman I’ve met. I doubt I could ever find another one like her if I tried. “I trust you’ll allow me the privilege of bringing our girl up-to-date when the timing is right,” she says to him. “I’m fairly certain she doesn’t need any complication to what’s already been a shitty day.” Charlie’s freakishly blue eyes flicker between the two of us before he slowly nods in understanding. “Right, then,” Sharlo sings. “Go easy on the big guy. I assure you he’s giving himself more of a beating than any poor bloke who’s brave enough to take him on in the ring.” She pats him on the ass before disappearing through the bar’s doorway. There hasn’t been much time for me to get to know Evelyn’s husband. He seems like an easy-going guy unless something has pissed him off or someone has done my sister wrong. Based on the way his eyes storm over and his stride is heavy when he starts my way, I brace myself for a serious ass-chewing before he says, “You and I need to talk.”

CHAPTER 6

SHARLO

he moment the private car pulls up in front of Dad’s gated mansion on a hill T in Monte Sereno, I let out a breath I swear I’ve been holding since my plane landed

over an hour ago. Not that the sight of his third house in five years sets off any fuzzy feelings of home, but I’ve been dying for something to take my mind off the fact that I merely left James without so much as giving him my number. The beautiful man was a mess and in dire need of more than a proper lay, yet like some sort of call girl working for charity, those were the only services I provided. When Evelyn and Charlie escorted me to the airport early this morning, Charlie’s critical stare and the fact that I haven’t driven in a car in years were the only things keeping me from running back to James. Dad appears beneath the arched pillar on the front stoop, donning a bright polo shirt with his hands in his khakis and a warm smile spread over his pale lips that creases the skin around his bright blue eyes. For someone about to turn sixty, he’s far more youthful in appearance than one would expect. Only a smidgen of white stands out against nut-brown hair as full and thick as that of a man in his prime, and he’s in the best shape of his life. Having only recently left the corporate world, he’s transformed into a man of leisure, spending long days on golf courses as well as competing in triathlons. It seems whenever I ring, he’s in one kind of training or another. Since he failed to pass along whatever athletic gene it takes to understand putting your body through that level of torture, I merely celebrate the fact that he’s taking proper care of himself. As I step out from the car, he’s accepting my suitcase from the driver and shaking the man’s hand, saying something brilliant that has them both laughing. “My baby girl!” he calls out to me. “Welcome home!” Despite wanting to roll my eyes at the absurdity of calling something I’ve only set foot in once my home, I hurry into his open arms. Caught off guard by the swell of emotions suddenly choking me with his familiar aftershave, I clutch the back of his coarse shirt in my fists. Though I may not be close with either of my parents and only see them on occasion, for the first time in ages I’m able to appreciate the fact that I’m not orphaned.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, sniffling. His lips press against my hair. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. How was your flight?” “It’s quite unnecessary to fly me first class whenever I come for a visit. I flew economy a few days ago and managed to get along quite well, even without the complimentary meal and entertainment. It’s not so scandalous how the other half lives.” “Only the best for my girl,” he answers with a chuckle. “Let’s go out back by the pool and relax before you settle in your room. Victoria made a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies with chunks, just the way you like them.” I back away with a laugh. “You do realize I’ve grown into a fully functioning adult and I’m no longer a four-year-old, yeah? I outgrew milk and cookies around the time I stopped lip syncing to Britney Spears in my knickers.” “That’s blasphemy! No one is too old for milk and cookies! It beats that crumpets and tea nonsense your mom was always forcing down your throat when you were little.” The kind of charming smile that helped him become a CEO numerous times tilts his mouth when he reaches for the handle of my suitcase and drapes his other arm across my shoulders. “Speaking of nonsense, have you heard from your mother lately?” “She hasn’t rang me in some time, but Aunt Camila said there were pictures of her latest rendezvous on Facebook. She mentioned something about the Dominican and a forty-year old Frenchman.” “At least I know my money is going to good use,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. We haven’t even stepped foot inside the stark monstrosity of a house when I feel the vibration of his phone between us. Flashing an apologetic smile, he releases me to remove the smart phone from his pocket. “The lawyers are still pounding out some details on the sale of the company,” he explains. “Go on ahead and wait for me on the patio, sweetheart. I’ll be there in a minute or two.” “Of course.” It comes as no surprise whatsoever that I’ve barely spoken to the man before he’s pulled away by business. It’s what I’ve come to expect every bit as much as Mum’s inability to act like a fully functioning adult. I hurry across the stone floor through the living room with my head down, unable to stomach the sight of my massive sweet sixteen portrait on display above the mantel like it’s the bloody Mona Lisa. Once I’ve reached the safety of the patio, I let out a long breath as my eyes roll to the top of my head. Although quite lovely, the new Mediterranean-style house is far too grand for one person living on their own who breaks out in hives with the thought of entertaining. The sprawling backyard provides the kind of utopia I can fully appreciate, reminiscent of a Jane Austen novel with lush greenery and old-world charm. Even though the flowers have yet to blossom and the grass isn’t as brilliant as in the summertime, the sun reflecting down on the Olympic-sized pool is a welcome sight.

Ascending down the grand stairway toward the lower level of the backyard where the pool house sits, the silly thought that I’m a princess entering a ball comes to mind the way make-believe often did when I was young. Mum would never allow me to invite my less fortunate schoolmates over to play because she didn’t want them to know she spent life high off her tits and Dad was always gone on business trips, leaving me with nothing more than an overactive imagination to bide my time. Though Dad would prefer I sleep in a dreadful room clad with pink ruffles and a 4-poster bed that he declared as “mine,” I fancy the smart guest house complete with a state-of-the-art sound system and a well-stocked refrigerator. It reminds me of the similar pool house behind the mansion we lived in a few kilometers down the road when I was a rebellious teenager and threw brilliant parties to bribe others into becoming my mates. After I’ve retrieved a bottle of imported water from inside, I settle into one of the white loungers beside the pool and release a sigh. Were it not for the fact that I’ll be in LA soon with Evelyn, it would be a complete waste of my time to travel all this way to visit a man who has never really been there from the start. Still, it seemed necessary to at least attempt a connection with him after watching James and his family struggle over the past few days. It would seem I’m incapable of going mere minutes without thinking about my tortured lover. Getting his number from Evelyn and checking in to see if he’s doing alright would be easy enough if I didn’t worry the sound of his voice would evoke memories of his lips on my skin and force me to hop on an airplane back to the Midwest. The way he clung to me when we said our goodbyes broke my heart. Yet here I sit on a multi-million dollar estate, sipping on an over-priced water while he struggles to make sense of his loss. Made restless by the self-deprecating thoughts spinning through my noggin, I head back toward the house in search of those damn cookies Dad spoke of. Chocolate always has a way of comforting me even if it wrecks havoc on my already full waistline. It reminds me of being a little girl bouncing on Dad’s knee as I devoured the gooey treats. The memory evokes thoughts of the butterflies and suddenly I’m fantasizing about the sweet little nickname James had bestowed on me. Bloody hell, every single thought leads to a game of Six Degrees of James Kendall. Inside the house, Dad’s voice echoes through the high ceilings, as angry as I’ve ever heard. I find him among the aroma of baked goods inside the cottage-style kitchen, rubbing at his forehead while shouting, “Everything that happened to you was your own goddamned fault! You can’t blame me for all your problems!” That certainly doesn’t sound good. Even in the throws of an unexpected separation with Mum, I never heard him raise his voice to that degree. Besides, she was usually too high on Oxy to understand that she was a part of any conversation. When Dad spies me watching from the entryway, he flinches and turns away. “I have to go, Peter. My daughter is in town for a few days. I don’t have time for this.”

He spins back around, setting his phone on the island. “Sorry about that, sweetheart.” I tilt my head. “Everything alright?” “It’s fine, sweetie,” he insists with a wave of his hand. “That was just one of many disgruntled employees who got the shaft when I sold the company. They don’t seem to understand that what happened after the buy-out was out of my hands.” Despite a line of sweat forming over his dark brow, he flashes one of his easy-going smiles. “What do you say we sit down with a plate of those cookies? I don’t think I’ve indulged in them since your last visit!” I don’t bother to dwell on the subject any longer, knowing from the sudden change of tone that he won’t allow any more talk of business even if I tried. That’s how he’s been programmed all my life. Business and family don’t mix in the complex mind of my father. The familiar exchange makes me feel more at home than I could’ve expected.

T hree painstakingly long days later in which I see very little of Dad and more of

his cleaning staff, I arrive in LA. From the moment I find Evelyn in the private room backstage at the events center, pacing like a nutter with eyes wide, she already seems to be at her wit’s end. At least she appears the way one would expect the wife of a rockstar to be in the crocheted bodice and faux leather pants we designed together when the concept of the Rocker Chique collection first came into existence. When I first told Dad that we were launching the business he was rather impressed, but even more so the night before when I mentioned our line was being considered by a few major retailers. His praise meant more than he could imagine. It’s a boost to my confidence knowing I’ve got his support as I plan to put my heart and soul into this business until it’s a success. “Shar!” Evelyn squeaks, running to me for an embrace. “God, I’m so happy to see you! The stage manager already took Charlie to prepare for the opening song and you would not believe all the women Dante has turned away! How the hell do they get in, anyway? They didn’t even sell backstage passes for this tour!” Eyes rolling toward the ceiling, I back away. “Groupies have a knack for that sort of thing, finding a way in when there’s none to be found. But you have nothing to worry about. Anyone who knows Charlie Walker is well aware he’s smitten with one woman. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. I hear she’s a fit little number. He calls her ‘pickles’ or some odd thing. Rumor has it he tattooed her nickname on his intimate bits to make his intentions perfectly clear to any slag who manages to get her hands down his pants.” “Very funny.” Her arms cross over her bare midriff as she giggles. “This is why I needed you here with me. You make me realize how much I’m sweating the small stuff.” Her eyes take in my fringed mini-dress and oodles of jewelry. “You look

great, by the way!” “As do you.” Looping my arm through hers, I plant a kiss on her temple. “Right, then. How do fabulous women such as ourselves get their hands on a drink in a place like this? We need to loosen you up before you’re exposed to the thousands of screaming women waiting for your husband.” A few minutes later when Dante delivers a bottle of whiskey, I belatedly remember that I could very well be with child and nearly toss my cookies as Evelyn tosses back a swig of the dark liquid. When she hands me the bottle, I point to the doorway. “Hold on. Was that Gavin Rossdale? You never mentioned he’d be here, naughty girl. Were you hoping to keep him all to yourself?” Knowing Evelyn would lose her shit if the lead singer of Bush were really in attendance, I’m not surprised when she darts to the hallway, searching back and forth like a woman gone mad. When she re-enters the room, frowning, I wipe my mouth like I’ve just taken a pull of the whiskey. “I didn’t see anyone, Shar.” “Perhaps I’m suffering from a bit of jet lag.” I set the bottle down on a table and wrap my arm with hers. “Any word from home on your dad’s case?” I ask, hoping to distract her and get an update on James in the process. “Oh shit, I forgot to tell you!” Eyes wide, she grabs onto my other arm. “Hunter said the FBI has become involved. I don’t completely understand the reason why— something to do with racketeering. I guess Dad and Uncle Orin’s paperwork for one of the government farm programs is being investigated. Hunter’s worried Dad was involved in something shady, but I don’t believe it for a second.” My stomach surges on her behalf. I can’t image anything having to do with their dad and racketeering in the same sentence could be a good thing. “How are the others taking the news?” The way she releases me and her eyebrows lower, I worry Charlie has told her of my involvement with James and she’s about to give me a piece of her mind. “Hunter’s the only one who didn’t split after the funeral. He said it’s a total madhouse on the farm. Even though he doesn’t know when they’ll let him move back in, he seems to be taking it all in stride.” “Wait. Where was James headed?” “God, I’m sorry. Things have been so crazy since we left Minnesota that I keep forgetting to keep you up-to-date. Charlie talked him into staying at our place for awhile so he can train with that old boxing legend dude Charlie works with. After what happened between James and Braden the night of the funeral, Charlie thinks it’ll be good for him to get out of town for a few days and focus on something other than Dad’s murder.” My heart literally skips a beat. James is going to be staying mere minutes from my flat! Suddenly I can’t seem to swallow. “How long does he plan on staying?” “He didn’t say. Hopefully long enough to get his anger under control.” A small smirk tilts her lips and she nudges me with her elbow. “Don’t worry, he’ll still be there when you fly back tomorrow. I gave him your number in case he needs…

anything.” Eyes narrowed, I set my hands on my hips. “And why exactly are you looking at me like a cheeky monkey?” She releases a nasally laugh. “Give me a little credit, Shar. At the wedding I noticed you two were sweet on each other and I get the feeling something happened between you guys the night we found him in the shed fighting Asher. I’m fine with it as long as you remember how controlling he was with me all those years. You’ve seen how intense he can get and I’ve seen you somehow manage the impossible feat of talking him down. But if you decide to get involved with my brother, you need to prepare yourself for one crazy-ass ride that doesn’t come with brakes. He takes the well-being of everyone in his life seriously and won't back down for anything. I’m not totally convinced you’re up for someone like that.” “I haven’t the faintest idea what to say to you right now. I’m not about to ‘get involved’ with someone who is merely in town for a few days on holiday.” Not exactly true considering what already took place in Minnesota, but it would seem the words need to be spoken aloud as a reminder to myself more than anything. “And if you believe for one moment that I’d give up my flat in Brooklyn Heights to live on a ranch, I must insist you have your noggin examined for leakage.” Evelyn’s maddening smile refuses to fade when she shakes her head. “We both know I have no business dishing out advice on relationships, but I know from experience what happens when two people who are right for each other feel a mutual attraction. It’s almost impossible to stop something like that. Who knows? Maybe the two of you would be good for each other. The rest of the details might work themselves out if it’s meant to be. You remember how convinced I was that I couldn’t have a meaningful relationship with someone famous.” Dante’s large frame makes a return appearance in the doorway, effectively putting an end to what’s transpiring to be the most awkward conversation of my mostly uncomplicated existence. “Time to go, ladies.” As we’re escorted inside the stadium, the pain from Evelyn’s sharp fingernails digging into the back of my hand are enough of a distraction from my own crises to remind me she’s living one of her own. The roar of the crowd and squeal of an electric guitar are deafening as Dante shows us to our spots beside the stage. We barely make it in time to see strobe lights flickering through a smoky haze, revealing Charlie’s silhouette emerging from beneath the stage pit. The bloke was clearly born for this the way he dominates the stage, flashing his million-dollar smile and moving around with a sexy ease as the crowd howls in approval. Even in a casual T-shirt and jeans it’s easy to see why he’s the fantasy of every American woman possessing a pulse. I feel like a jealous cow when watching my best friend’s eyes glaze over with the sight of her husband ripping into his guitar as he starts crooning one of his latest hits. Once Evelyn adjusted to the pitfalls of being with a fit rockstar, the complications of their relationship were a mere hiccup in the grand scheme of things. At least they were both in the same timezone when it all began.

As much as I’d fancy a fair go with James, there’s far more than distance getting in our way. I imagine loving someone with severe mood swings would be exhausting, and I don’t know that I have what it takes to be in a controlling relationship. No matter, every nook and cranny of my body still manages to tingle with memories of our two stolen nights at the hotel. The severity in those eyes, the way he touched me—the mere memory of it all is enough to properly soak my knickers. What harm could there possibly be in having a little fun together while he’s visiting Brooklyn?

CHAPTER 7

JAMES

hen Charlie suggested the night of Dad’s funeral that I spend a few days in W New York training with Manny Gibbs, I almost said yes on the spot. I’d do anything

for another shot with Sharlo. But I told him I’d think on it. Then I saw Sharlo leaving a little while later and went on my phone to buy a plane ticket. The idea of not seeing her again for months or even longer drove me fucking insane. If nothing else, I want another chance to legitimately make it up to her for acting like a nut-case. I finally had the chance to be with her and I fucking blew it. The sex was explosive both times. Maybe even the best I’ve ever had. But while I was slamming into her like an animal, she watched me with this confusing look that wasn't quite pity but was nowhere near longing. Then the way she said goodbye outside of Roadrunners…I should’ve told her I didn’t want her to leave. The ride from JFK to my sister’s place blows me away with every turn. Even though I grew up in a small town, I’ve been to enough sporting events and concerts in St. Paul and Minneapolis that I’m comfortable driving in big cities. But whenever I think I have a decent feel for how life must be for Ev and Sharlo to live in Brooklyn, something completely unexpected happens. The private driver Charlie hired has an engineering degree but can’t find a job. My sister’s neighborhood, something I pictured as being chaotic since it’s a part of the city, seems relatively quiet as we roll through the stone streets framed by budding trees. The rockstar’s pad I figured would be over-the-top and extravagant ends up being tasteful and inviting like somewhere I could live. And then, after dropping my duffle bag in the spare bedroom and giving the place a thorough once-over, I answer a knock on the front door to find a small blonde covered in tattoos with nose and eyebrow piercings, clutching a brown paper bag and flashing a timid smile. “James, right? I’m really sorry to hear about your dad.” She hands me the paper bag and slips inside, leaving a trail of citrus-like perfume. When she turns back to me, her bright green eyes slowly drag across my chest before settling on my face. “I’m Hope. I used to be your sister’s boss at the bar, now I’m just a good friend. She asked me to stop by and introduce myself in case there’s anything you need. I just

live like a dozen blocks over. I brought you one of Leona’s legendary burgers since I knew Ev left here in a hurry and there wouldn’t be anything in the fridge.” Though she’s hot and her personality is almost as outgoing as Sharlo's, she doesn’t do anything for me, and I just want to be left alone so I can go to sleep. The lack of attraction has everything to do with the British beauty I haven’t been able to shake from my thoughts. “I just got here,” I tell Hope, sticking my free hand in my pocket and peering into the bag. The burger smells delicious and makes my stomach growl, reminding me I haven’t had anything since breakfast. I look back at her behind furrowed brows. “I was just going to watch a little TV before going to bed.” Her sweet lips curl with a smile. “How about I join you?” Acting like she’s done it a million times, she breezes into the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. “There’s a local band playing tonight at Leona’s if you’d rather stay up. You could experience some of the local culture and see where your sister spent a few months of her life.” “Not interested,” I say as she hands me one of the beers. When she looks surprised by my bluntness I clench my fist, ashamed by my impatience. “Sorry. It’s been a rough week.” The anger I’ve been carrying around since finding Dad hasn’t eased up other than the few stolen moments with Sharlo. It itches just underneath my skin, waiting to be unleashed. I have to control it or Hope might think I’m the kind of asshole to get violent with women. “I start training early in the morning,” I add with a tight smile, hoping to somehow soften the blow. “Totally understandable,” she answers quietly. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t stay much longer and I’m in bed by ten. When I agreed to come out, Charlie mentioned he didn’t think it was wise for me to get involved with Sharlo because if things went south, it would make things awkward for everyone. After several hours of tossing and turning, I wonder if he’s right or if I should fight for her. Then again, Sharlo’s too good for someone who’s unable to get a handle on his emotions. When she returns from California, maybe it’s best if I apologize, then leave her alone. But with the thought of her running around LA, surrounded by sophisticated guys who can appreciate her beauty, I’m unable to sleep much at all.

I ’m up at five to run a few miles down the path I mapped out before grabbing

groceries from a little corner store down the block. After making breakfast I catch a taxi to Queens, eager to start training. The recently renovated gym has a sawnwood smell and rustic vibe with barn wood walls and industrial ceilings that are a welcoming sight. It’s like something I’d see back home. But I feel a little out-ofplace when I notice everything from the punching bags to the ring are state-ofthe-art. Cupp’s shed looks like child’s play compared to this joint.

“James Kendall?” a scratchy voice asks. I pull in a sharp breath as the boxing legend who once claimed the heavyweight title stands at the doorway of an office across the room, looking shockingly elderly and frail. The money I borrowed from savings already seems well spent when Manny comes forward and I’m in the presence of his greatness. The dark skin around his eyes crinkles when he offers a genuine smile. “Not what you were expecting? I’ve aged, same as everyone else, though I suppose boxing can take a toll on a person.” I close the distance between us to shake his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” Manny’s dark eyes widen and a grin tilts his wide lips. “Charlie mentioned you were a big guy. How much do you weigh, son?” “Two thirty on a good day.” “All muscle, I imagine. Looks like you take good care of yourself.” He pats me in the gut hard, making my muscles tense, and laughs. “Let’s get you in the ring and see what you’re made of.” By noon, my muscles are burning and Manny’s praising me on every move. At his direction, I punch, split, and block with everything I’ve got. I’m on my feet all morning, later sparing with some kid who hardly looks old enough to go without training wheels. He’s a decent enough fighter, but not able to keep up at my level. About the time Manny’s ready to call it a day, my blood is pumping and my heart’s racing. I’m ready for more. “You show a lot of promise,” he tells me, clapping me on the shoulder. “It’s been a long time since someone at your caliber came through here. You’ve got some of Ali’s skills the way you can float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. Won’t be more than a couple of days before there’ll be amateurs swarming the place, hungry for a piece of you.” The compliment goes over my head when the mention of a butterfly has me thinking about Sharlo and those thick lashes. “Becoming a professional just may be within your reach one day if you keep at it. You’ve got a wicked cross and not many heavyweights have your speed or ferocity.” Manny dips under the ropes, then turns back to me. “Keep up with the cardio and watch what you eat. I’ll arrange for a match against someone significant in your weight class. I imagine there’ll be boys biting at the bit for a chance once word gets out.” “Anyone else I can spar in the meantime?” “Should be a few guys from the club in and outta here the next few days.” His lips tighten as he shakes his head. “Just don’t wear yourself down too much. Charlie told me what happened to your dad. I’m really sorry, son. That kind of thing can’t be easy to take. Anger's a good thing in the ring, but you're gonna have to keep it locked down so it doesn’t control you. Find something that calms you—I don’t care if it’s yoga or pottery classes, just stick with it.” With images of Sharlo naked under me, I nod. My head’s a fucking mess.

I spend the rest of the day in the gym, going a few rounds with a couple midsized guys who give me a run for my money, and lifting weights until it’s dark out and I’m all alone. By the time I’m back to my sister’s place, exhaustion has washed over my muscles and my body feels as if it’s made of lead. I manage to make myself a sandwich and stand inside an ice cold shower a few minutes before going to bed and fantasizing about Sharlo, then passing out cold.

T he next two days are pretty much the same. Early run, taxi to the gym, work my

ass off until I’m too exhausted to stand upright. Manny isn’t there the second day, but I find a bigger guy to spar with who’s more my speed and able to get a few good hits in. Hunter has been good about keeping me up to date on the FBI’s involvement, and one of the agents on the case called the day before with more questions about the night I found Dad. I’ve never felt so fucking frustrated in my life, waiting as they try to find a suspect. Spending every waking hour focused on improving my technique and going at it until I’m hardly able to stand only partially works in keeping my mind off the bullshit back home. A few texts from Hope inviting me out and offering to stop by go unreturned. I’m not interested in adding the complication of a woman into my life. If I were, I’d be doing whatever it took to include Sharlo. But since she hasn’t made an attempt to contact me through Evelyn, I wonder if she’s given up on us. My fourth night in the city, I’m stripped down to my boxers and ready to call it a night around nine. Since immersing myself in the boxing world, I’ve been able to forget about Sharlo for the most part, but I was aware on a subconscious level that she’d be flying to LA to meet up with Evelyn sometime today. And more than likely she’s dressed up in her original way for the concert, shaking her sweet little ass to the music. I can picture her with those big blue eyes closed, head tilted back, hands in the air, a smile spread across her soft lips. The thought has me restless and agitated, making it harder to sleep once I’ve slipped into bed. Hours later I slip down in the darkness to the kitchen for a glass of water. I flip on the TV in the living room and sink into one of the leather couches, hoping to bore myself to sleep. A handful of minutes pass before there’s a series of knocks pounding on the front door. It isn’t all that surprising to find Hope on the front step, but the way she sways on her feet catches me off guard. Dressed in a pair of cut off shorts and a sparkling top, hair curled and makeup heavy, it’s safe to guess she spent the night out on the town. Her bright green eyes freeze on my bare chest. “Oh, m’ god!” she slurs, nearly falling to the side. “Congratu-lations!” I reach out to grab her arm. “You're drunk.” “Yes, I’m drunk,” she says with a nasally laugh. “Took a little detour on m’ way home. Figured I’d stop to see if your sexy ass wanted some company. Evelyn made

me promise you’d be well taken care of. Wouldn’t wanna be a bad friend.” “Christ,” I growl to myself. My eyes sweep over the empty street, pissed as hell that she’d walk alone at this hour while tanked. Don’t her fucking friends care if she made it home? I swear not a single woman I’ve met knows how to look out for themselves. Hope doesn’t seem to be an exception. “Get in here,” I bark, pulling her inside with me. She trips over the threshold and giggles, falling into my chest. The sour odor of booze and her citrus perfume burn my nose. Her warm fingers spread across my stomach muscles and she makes a little purring noise. I’m annoyed, but what do you know, my dick stirs with her touch. There’s no denying she’s especially hot when all dressed up, but I don’t let my mind wander any further. No way I’m doing anything with this girl whether she’s plowed or otherwise. A soft hum falls from her lips. “Damn, you’re massive.” “You can’t wander around by yourself when you’re like this,” I scold, prying her off me. “Do you have a boyfriend or someone who can come get you?” “I’m single and all the people in m’ life are probably still at the bar,” she says, drawing her glossy eyes up to meet mine. She hiccups among a giggle. “Looks like it’s just you ’n' me.” “You need something in your stomach.” I pull her over to the island and help her onto a stool, moving it at an angle. With any luck she won’t fall over. After handing her a bottle of water, I grab the carton of eggs and sleeve of bacon left from my shopping trip the other day and fire up my sister’s industrial stovetop. “Of course you can cook,” Hope mumbles behind me. “Do you know how hard it is to find a guy around here who doesn’t want anything more than a little whambam-thank-you-ma’am? Should’ve known Evelyn’s brother would be a nice guy. I mean she told me you box and work your ass off on the farm. But the cooking thing? You’re unreal. Half the guys I know are hooked on video games an’ think cereal’s considered a meal. Why is it so hard to find someone who’s grown up and ready for commitment beyond the fuckin’ weekend?” Good question. I throw the bacon into a cast iron skillet and crack an egg into a bowl, shaking my head. “Don’t know. You’re not going to find the kind of guy you're looking for when drunk in a bar. That makes you a prime target for assholes.” “Where do you suggest I look? In a boxin’ ring?” I turn to glance at her over my shoulder. “You suggesting something?” “Maybe. And maybe I shouldn’t have had that last Long Island, but getting smashed seems to be the only way I can find the courage to do this kind of thing.” She wraps a hand in her long blond hair and grins while batting her lashes. It’s flirty and cute as hell. “What do you say, big guy? Care to take a girl out for a night on the town?” Moving over to the island, I set both hands on the counter before looking her in the eye. She may not remember the conversation in the morning, but I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and I’m not going to be a dick about it. “You seem like a

good person and I appreciate the offer, but I’m only in the city for a short while. I’m not interested in a short-term fling with one of my sister’s friends.” She leans in toward me, pierced eyebrow cocked. “Who said it’d have to be short term?” “I’ll be back in Minnesota by the end of the month.” “Plans change, James. People change. When there’s somethin’ worth fightin’ for, we evolve for each other. No couple starts out as a perfect match. Sacrifices are made, lives are rearranged. It’s in our nature to pair off.” My eyebrows draw together. “You always get this deep when you’re drunk?” “Prob’ly. It’s easier to speak the truth after a few shots.” Looking down to the floor, my back stiffens. What if she’s right? Hell, she could be perfect for me. I’ll never know unless I give her a chance. Same could be said for Sharlo, and she’ll be back in town by tomorrow night. Then again, the radio silence from Sharlo might be a sign that it’s time to move on. “I’m in a shit-poor place to be dating,” I finally admit, meeting her hopeful gaze once again. “I’m not going to pretend I’m up for this when my head’s not in the right place. I’m here to train. I couldn’t give you the kind of attention you deserve. I’m at the gym all day and ready to crash at night.” When a slight frown pulls at her lips, I fold my arms over my chest and tilt my chin. “You’re a fun, beautiful woman with an impressive job. I’m sure it won't be long before you come across someone who’s good for you.” Before catching her reaction, I turn back to flip the bacon and put the eggs in a pan. With any luck she’ll understand where I’m coming from and not see me as an asshole who refuses to date. The reasons sounded lame to my own ears, but I’m not ready to admit to her or anyone that I’m holding out for someone else. “One drink at Leona’s, t’morrow night,” she pleads. “My treat. We don't even have to call it a date. We can say it’s the start of a friendship. I’ll slug you on the shoulder a time or two if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, like you’re hangin’ out with one of the guys.” I turn back to her, shaking my head. “You’re also persistent.” “Damn right. How’d you think I got hired to manage one of the hottest joints in the city?” She doesn’t say anything more about the subject as I finish cooking and serve her the late night meal on one of Evelyn’s square plates. Instead she tells me stories of Evelyn and Charlie’s first dates while she cleans her plate. Before long, her eyes grow heavy. I make her drink the last of the bottled water, then lead her up to the guest bed. She removes her strappy sandals before I tuck her under the blanket, fully clothed. “One day you’ll make the world’s best husband—prob’ly a daddy too,” she says with a hum, eyes closed. “Whatever chick you decide to settle down with will be one lucky bitch.” My gut roils with unease. Until she said “daddy” I had forgotten all about not using protection with Sharlo. Christ, I really need to have a talk with her. Whether

or not I decide to see where this thing between us goes, I have to know if I’m going to be a father. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake, so let yourself out,” I tell Hope, gathering a set of gym clothes for in the morning. By the time I turn off the lights, I can hear her light snores. I take watch on my sister’s couch downstairs in case Hope decides to wander off later. It’s almost impossible to fall asleep knowing it won’t be long before I’ll be face-to-face with Sharlo again.

CHAPTER 8

SHARLO

always have a bit of a soft spot for the endless beauty of California, but it I ’ll will never compare to the warmth that fills me when the familiar sights of

Brooklyn Heights come into view. The closer the private car gets to home, however, anxiety begins to claw its way up my throat. Upon graduating from NYU, I moved straightaway into the converted church flat with my then-boyfriend, and for a time it seemed where I belonged. Something about the unique feel of the modern decor mixed in with the old world charm of wood and iron had always called to me, made me at ease. The desire to live elsewhere didn’t arise until that nutter reporter stormed in with a gun and kidnapped Evelyn in an attempt to get Charlie’s attention. After setting my luggage by the island, I sort through the mail to find the usual bills. As I pour myself a glass of water, I see an envelope without a return address that must’ve slipped from the pile. It’s lodged between the foot of a stool, near the same spot where I was knocked unconscious. A great shudder runs down my back with the memory of the reporter holding a gun to my head. Evelyn refuses to talk about that night, saying it’s too painful to remember how she had to shoot the woman, and I don’t dare mention the fact that I no longer wish to live here as she’ll undoubtedly feel as if it’s her fault. Accordingly, I’ve been doing overtime with the therapist I’ve been seeing since Richard first cheated on me. As a little girl, I was once the unfortunate recipient of a robbery gone bad in Oakland. The bloke was desperate not to go back to prison and grabbed me, holding a pistol to my head as the policemen arrived. Many sleepless nights were to follow until a child psychologist was able to convince me that I was safe, and the man was not coming back for me. With a sigh, I retrieve the envelope from the floor. It would seem someone wrote my name and address in a hurry as it’s barely legible. Ripping the envelope open, I find a small piece of paper with an odd sentence scrawled in black ink. Not everyone gets everything they want.

“That’s rude,” I say to the empty room. Throwing the note to the counter, I don’t give it any more thought. The city is filled with nutters, though I can’t imagine why one would take the time to seek out my name and address specifically. Perhaps I should be more concerned after all. Then it’s as if the clouds have parted after a brutal storm when I remember James is somewhere nearby. I haven’t the faintest idea what to expect once we’re reunited, but a girl can dream—especially with the aid of a 3” vibrating mate. After showering and running a blowdryer through my hair, it seems nothing in my closet is sufficient for a visit to James. Eventually I’m able to whip together a little something using a blouse I created for our upcoming line that Katie sewed with a pair of lace-covered shorts. It’s feminine and flirty, matching the mood I’m in. By the time I’m standing on Evelyn and Charlie’s stoop, I’m more nervous than a stoner who’s been handed a drug-test and nearly dash off before the door creaks open. “Hope?” I nearly choke on her name when seeing her with a towel wrapped around her naked body, blond hair hanging wet around her shoulders. “What on earth are you doing here?” “Ev asked me to check on James, so I came by last night,” she answers, leaning up against the doorframe and cocking one leg. “He left for the gym early this morning.” A small, wicked grin stretches her lips. “That man is one tall drink of water.” “If big and brooding is your type, then I suppose he is,” I agree, hoping the words don’t come out as surly as they feel. A surge of envy swells inside my chest, making it difficult to properly breathe. Apparently our short-lived affair didn’t mean anything to James, though I suppose that’s really all it was ever meant to be. “I wanted to pop in to grab some designs off Evelyn’s laptop. Won’t take but a minute.” When she opens the door, the lie sinks into my gut. I’m not about to let on to someone I consider a mate that I’m an unflattering shade of green with envy all because she shagged someone I thought I had unrequited feelings for. That kind of thing will have to wait until I’m back in my flat behind closed doors, able to make a spectacle of myself in private.

I ’m not normally the type to mope around, but whenever I recall visions of Hope

standing in the doorway, it feels as if something inside of me will implode. So I do my best to distract myself for the afternoon, taking to a tub of ice cream while tearing through a marathon of 80s adventure flicks. When that doesn’t do the trick, I stare down a bottle of Jack, debating whether it’s worth risking the well-being of whatever pin-sized fetus may be growing inside of me. My period isn’t due to arrive for more than a week. Getting mashed to cure my woes is out of the question. Damn James Kendall for weaseling his way inside my head as well as my

knickers. Deciding being alone in my flat is only adding to the direness of the situation, I pin my hair behind my head and don a pair of stilettos with one of my favorite dresses before hitting the cobblestone path toward Leona’s. It comes as a great comfort to be surrounded by the familiar lull of rock music and immersed in the local culture. All day I was keen to call Evelyn, but as it has to do with her brother and one of her mates as well, I knew it would only give her something to fret about. The next person in queue to always offer a steady shoulder stands behind the bar when I arrive, chatting it up with a few young girls who look smitten with his large muscles and overall fit appearance. Can’t say I can blame them. When Nolan first inherited the bar from his grandmother a few years back, I was already a loyal customer but hadn’t had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. Those dark eyes and lush beard alone were enough to wet my knickers on the spot. I mean bloody hell. The man makes Henry Cavill appear to be a mongrel. It wasn’t long before we learned we had plenty in common as trust-fund babies. Then he told me of his adventures as a Marine, and I was ready to give him a proper shag. Unfortunately, my weasel of an ex was still in the picture and the bond I formed with Nolan began to resemble more of a sibling nature, ruining any thoughts I had of wanting to jump his bones. I can’t help but think he would’ve eventually run off like everyone else in my life if we had been anything more anyway. “Shar!” he calls out the moment he spies me headed his way. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were staying home tonight, sugar cookie.” The two young women immediately scowl in my direction with the dreadful code name for “save my ass” we established long ago when some bloke I had only just met got down on bended knee and asked me to be his bride. At the time I was desperate for Nolan’s assistance and came up with a term so ridiculous he knew I’d never otherwise use. “I couldn’t possibly bare a moment longer without seeing my little sweet-tits,” I reply, flashing the women a wide smile. Chuckling, Nolan moves around the bar-top to my side, and places a kiss on my cheek. “Excuse me, ladies, but this British beauty already stole my heart.” Snarling beneath their breaths, they scurry away, eliciting a giddy laugh from my lips. April, one of the feisty waitresses with whom I’ve gotten shit-faced with a time or two, waves at me from his side and tilts her hand toward her mouth in the universal symbol for drink. I shake my head in small bursts, praying Nolan doesn’t catch on. I grab Nolan’s thick bicep and smile. “Why on earth would you purposely ruin your chance at getting a proper shag?” When he smiles back, a dimple pops into his right cheek. “They were students at NYU. Too young and naive for my taste.” “What is your taste?” I tease, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “Inquiring minds want to know.” “I’ll let you know when I find her.”

I straighten the collar on his dress shirt and sigh. “Really, Nolan. You mustn’t continue working yourself to an early grave. Take some time off. Travel the country. Have a go with an exotic woman in every port if you must. Just get out and enjoy life. There’s no need for you to be here twenty-four seven when you have a perfectly capable staff and a healthy inheritance. You could give the place to charity and you’d still be set for life.” “You know this place is my life.” Sadness creeps into his gaze as it flitters over my shoulder. “Besides, it’s the only thing that has kept me going since my grandma’s memory turned to shit. At least when I’m here I remember the good times with her and not all the times she’s asked me my name or gone off on some rant about how she thinks she’s a teenager and needs to hide her weed from her parents.” “Maybe you should take a note from Grandma Leona’s childhood and let loose. I know it’s hard to see her in such a way, but you need to visit her while she’s still around. You’ll hate yourself one day for it if you continue to simply communicate with her through the nurse you hired. I’ll come along, if you’d like.” When he doesn’t answer and the pain in his expression doesn’t lessen, I collect him in my arms and squeeze tight, wishing I could carry some of his troubles. I know too well how it feels to have an absent family and be abandoned by those you love. Perhaps it’s the reason why I was eager to latch on to Nolan as a family member when we first met. “Eventually it’ll be okay,” I say to him. “You’re strong…you’ll get through this just like you survived those dreadful haircuts in the service.” “Dammit, Shar. Why can’t all women be like you?” he asks, finally giving in to wrap his arms around me. His cut muscles become lax beneath my hold. “Things would be so much easier if we would’ve acted on the chemistry we felt the night we met.” “Perhaps, but I value your friendship more than you’ll ever know. You helped me realize Richard wasn’t the right one. And you were there for me long before Evelyn came along. Now that she’s off touring the countryside with her fit husband, I need someone to call me out when I’m having foolish thoughts.” He draws back, brows pulled downward. “What’s going on? You alright?” “Nothing copious amounts of alcohol won’t cure,” I answer with a tittering laugh. Not that I can actually consume any, but I can at least pretend by sipping soda with a straw. “How about you pull your fabulous ass away from this place so we can hit the clubs in Manhattan? Maybe you’ll find my doppelgänger after polishing off a bottle or two of your favorite bourbon.” “I can’t leave. Hope has the night off.” The mere mention of her name has my stomach sloshing about even if it’s foolishness on my part for believing the thing with James actually meant something. Hooking my arm through his, I give him a bright smile while playing with the elastic band on his thousand dollar watch. Once again I mourn the fact that we’re

missing a physical attraction as we’re so well-suited for each other’s lifestyles. “Right, then. Guess drinks here will have to do for tonight.” Nolan shakes his head, unwilling to let it go. “What aren’t you telling me, Shar?” My eyes catch on a tall, dark-haired figure working its way through the crowd. I suck in my breath until the familiar brown gaze lands on me, warming every inch of my body. Looking fit as ever in a pair of khaki shorts and a white, short-sleeved dress shirt, James makes his way toward where I stand clutching Nolan’s arm. He’s a sight to behold, all muscle and brawn, towering over the crowd in a commanding way and soliciting longing glances from random women. I’m so caught up in the delectable sight of him that I nearly miss how Hope hurries along at his side like a puppy dog, her bright green eyes sparkling with excitement. Before now I’d welcome her with open arms, but the sight of her with my James has me ready to use my claws. “Bloody hell,” I mutter. What are the chances? Pretty high, I suppose, all things considered. Coming to Hope’s place of work was a shit idea. “Who’s that with Hope?” Nolan asks. “Evelyn’s brother, James,” I answer under my breath. Nolan releases a deep chuckle. “They grow them big on the farm.” They’re soon at our side, James’s dark gaze flickering between me and Nolan. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous that I was with someone else. Nails now digging into Nolan’s skin, I straighten my back and pat the back of my head to ensure I at least appear to be holding my shit together. James says my name in a sultry way that drenches my knickers. He seems to be fighting against a scowl when adding, “It’s good to see you again.” “James!” I reply brightly, hoping no one else is able to hear the hitch in my tone. “How lovely to see you!” His dark gaze burns into my skin as he glances down to my stilettos before meeting my gaze once again. There’s desire in those beautiful eyes that he’s unable to hide and it makes my heart flutter. An awkward moment passes before I step forward to give him a half-hearted hug. His bear-sized arms coil around me, holding on like I’m his prized possession. Caught up in his musky scent and memories of him buried deep inside of me, I’m rendered useless in his massive arms, relying on them to hold me upright. Every part of me wants to drag his beautiful ass back to my flat for another go. Then my noggin clears and I remember my replacement stands mere feet away. Straightening my shoulders, I step back and nearly burst out in tears when his warm embrace disappears. “I do hope Brooklyn has been treating you well.” “Ev asked Hope to check in on me.” The words come out brash and rushed, as if he’s eager to explain. Shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes are reluctant when they scan the crowd. “Not exactly sure how she convinced me to come here.” “You couldn’t stay locked up in their brownstone the entire time you’re in the city,” Hope tells him, slugging him in the arm like they’re sharing an inside secret.

“You’re here now. May as well enjoy it.” The intimate interaction sets me on edge, so I once again loop my arm through Nolan’s. “Luv, this is Evelyn’s brother, James,” I say, unable to miss how James’s nostrils flare slightly. “He’s staying at her place while he trains with Manny Gibbs.” Hand held out, Nolan nods. “Nolan Zimmerman. I’ve heard about you—one of the twins, right? Evelyn was one of my waitresses for a short time before Charlie swooped in and dragged her outta here.” Poor bloke still can’t hide the resentment in his tone. There was a time he fancied a go with Evelyn. “She never mentioned one of her brothers was a fighter. I did some boxing back when I was in the Corps, before my sergeant turned me on to jiu-jitsu.” Apparently in one of his sullen moods, James simply shakes Nolan’s hand for a brief moment before his hand retreats to his pocket and his expression hardens. It feels like a blatant disapproval, making my chest impossibly tight. Whether it’s because I want to bust out in tears of joy or tell him to sod off has yet to be determined. Studying James carefully, Nolan crosses his arms over his large chest. Tension hangs thick in the air as the two men seem eager to size each other up. “Sorry to hear about your dad. I imagine it’s been a nightmare for your family.” The darkness in James’s eyes stirs as I can sense the beast coming to the surface. Poor bloke traveled all this way to forget about his dad and here he’s having it thrown back in his face. Determined to keep things between them as calm as possible, I slip my arm behind Nolan’s waist and smile. “Nolan’s the one who sent the weeping willow trees to the farm before the funeral,” I tell James. “This one has a big heart.” “My grandma planted one in her backyard after my grandpa died,” Nolan tells him. “Thought maybe your family would like to plant them on the farm in his memory.” I’m not sure James has heard a single word he said as he’s too busy fuming over the way I hold onto Nolan. His wide chest rises and falls with uneven breaths while angry eyes lock onto where my body is pressed to my mate’s. While a part of me wants to set him straight, another part is determined to make him as jealous as I was after discovering he’d moved on. “So anyway, welcome to my bar,” Nolan tells James, subtly moving farther away from me. Bless him, he still smiles brightly at James even though it would appear the boxing giant is ready to start a row. “Can I get you a drink?” With one last sweeping gaze of my body that’s already achy and wanton with a desire for him to touch me, James squares his shoulders and shakes his head. “This isn’t my scene.” He gives Hope a little pat on the back like she’s some kind of teammate gearing up for a game. I’m nearly embarrassed on her behalf. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m going to head back,” he tells her. All at once miffed by his rather cold shoulder, I pull away from Nolan, ready to throw punches of my own. It’s certainly not the kind of treatment I would expect

from someone I once shagged, regardless of whatever demons he has queued. “You could simply ask me to leave if I’m making you that uncomfortable, James,” I sneer as he’s turning his back. “No need to stomp away like a sixteenyear-old girl who spotted her rival wearing the same dress to the prom.” Spinning around, he reaches out for my arm, clutching it hard. When I wince, however, it’s not because his grip hurts, but because I see the pain encapsulated inside his lovely brown eyes. Ragged beats of my heart shake my entire body and a warm tremor buzzes between my legs as he continues to stare down on me. Intoxicated by his presence, the feel of his hard body pressed against mine, and his masculine smell, I become dizzy. Then he leans down close enough to brush his lips against my ear, and says, “I thought…” he inhales my scent before finishing with, “…you know what? Forget it. Goodbye, little butterfly.” As he storms out of Leona’s, my mind’s a mess and my legs threaten to buckle like a bendy straw. The nickname in itself throws me in a tailspin. I’m only vaguely aware of the fact that Hope has left me alone with Nolan when he slips an arm around my shoulders. “Shar? What in the hell was that about? Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

CHAPTER 9

JAMES

a fucking miracle I make it back to Evelyn’s place considering I hit the I t’s pavement running in no particular direction and my eyes couldn't focus on a

single goddamned thing. When I stop outside my sister’s building to catch my breath, holding my head in my hands, bright light flashes behind my eyelids. I haven’t been able to shake Sharlo from my mind since the night of the funeral. After talking to Hope the night before about relationships and shit, I was starting to think maybe I had a fighting chance with Sharlo. Then I saw her with that rich prick, and I wanted to throw my fist through a wall. Better yet, right through that Nolan dude’s skull. If the gym was open this late, I’d hit a bag until my knuckles bled. Goddamn it! I never would’ve thought in a million years she’d be the type to cheat on a boyfriend, but it was so damn obvious she’s been with Nolan for a long time. Guess I don’t know her like I thought. “James!” My heart lurches clear into my throat with the sound of Sharlo's voice calling my name. I look up as a taxi pulls into the curb with a flurry of slender limbs spilling out from the back. Sharlo runs toward me, biting down on a smile. Even through my anger-induced haze, she's still so fucking gorgeous it physically hurts, sending shooting pains down my spine. The need to release her hair from behind her head so I can run my hands through it vibrates against my fingertips. I just want to fucking smell her…all over me. But she’s with that Nolan guy. My hands ball into tight fists at my sides. “Why are you here?” I ask, well aware my clipped words make me sound like an asshole. She stops on the sidewalk a few feet away, giving me a timid smile that draws my balls tight. “Because I’ve missed your moody arse these past few days, and I’m a fool.” Taking another step closer, she ducks her head. It’s so fucking cute and innocent-like, seeming to have a direct line to my cock. “Nolan is one of my best mates. I love him dearly but not in the way you think, I swear. I was a wanker for attempting to make you jealous. It’s just after seeing Hope here this morning, discovering the two of you had been intimate—”

“Me and Hope?” I ask, cocking my head and pulling my eyebrows down. Her thick lashes rapidly blink like she’s trying not to cry. My little butterfly. “What other plausible reason would she have to strut around wet, in a towel? The start of a poorly executed fashion trend?” “I made her stay because she was drunk," I explain, shaking my head. “She took the bed, I took the couch. Nothing happened between us. She was flirting, but I didn’t act on it. I don’t want her that way.” I make up the difference between us, needing to touch her. Wrapping an arm around her waist I clutch her tight, grunting when my lungs fill with her vanilla scent. We stare into each other's eyes, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “I only want…you,” I finally choke out. A quiet whimper falls from her lips right before I stake my claim on her, sucking her soft lips between mine and burying her small, tight body in my arms. Standing on the balls of her feet, she locks her fingers inside my hair, pulling me closer while answering the kiss in a reckless way that sets my chest on fire. With the sweet smell of her that I’ve missed like crazy filling me to the core, I’m drawn into a haze of need to revisit every inch of her small body until she’s begging for more. Wrapping my hands under her ass, I pull her up until she’s straddling my waist, and start for the steps leading up to the brownstone. She clings to me while I fish the keys out of my pocket and fumble with the deadbolt on the door, still ravaging her lips like a starved man. Once inside, I don’t stop until we’re up in the guest room even though we run into a wall a few times, and I stumble while climbing the stairs. I fumble with the pins holding her hair back until she reaches behind her head to pull them out. The feeling of her soft hair falling down around our faces rips a moan from my throat. With my shins pressed to the bed, I gently set her feet down on the mattress, breaking the connection of our lips. She towers over me for a change as her fingers frantically work on the buttons of my shirt. She’s hot as shit—heart-shaped face flushed, hair wild from me yanking on it, lips red, eyes glossed over with want. When I slip my hands up underneath the back of her shorts and up her smooth panties to cup her tight little ass, she makes a pleasured noise and rips my shirt open the rest of the way, giggling a little when we hear a button ping against something metal. After pulling my shirt off my arms, she goes to work on her own top, pulling it over her head until her golden hair spills over her bare shoulders. Suddenly face-to-face with her full breasts, held in place by a leopard-print bra, I growl before reaching for the clasp that will set them free. “Oh, James,” she whispers as I take one of her perky tits in my mouth. Arching her back, she laces her fingers in my hair while I explore the pebbled skin with my lips and teeth. “You have no idea how bloody much I missed you.” Pulling back, I scoop her in my arms and lower her down to the bed, stopping to stare into her cool blue eyes. The first two times we were together, it was rushed and brutal. I fucked her to silence my anger. This time I plan to be gentle and make

it last. The way she’s looking at me, it’s going to be a fucking miracle if I’m able to go more than ten seconds. “I missed you,” I confess, surprised by the sudden pinch in my throat. With a blindingly bright smile, she holds my jaw in her hands on either side. “Well, then. I’d say it’s a good thing you’re here and we’re past these rubbish misunderstandings because I’m ready to ravage this fit body once more.” Hell, I couldn’t have said it any better myself. Lowering down to claim her mouth again, I sink into the mattress at her side and pull her up close until our bodies become one. Her legs wrap around mine and the kiss intensifies to blazing levels with her warm tits pressed to my chest. Jesus, I can’t get enough of this woman. Every stroke of her tongue against mine, every taste of her sweet lips, every caress of her little hands on my body has my cock straining inside my shorts. I want to consume every inch of her and never stop. Though it’s still not enough time, it seems we’ve been wrapped together for hours before she draws away. There’s a crooked, sexy-as-hell smirk on her lips when she pushes me down to my back and hooks a leg over my waist to straddle me. “My god, I’ve been dreaming of the chance to do this again with you for days. Every time you touch me, I lose my mind.” Her words send a river of lust through me that leads straight to my balls. I didn’t know being with a woman who was so sure of herself could be such a turn-on, but I’m blinded by a need to have her. I grip her hips, ready to flip her back down to the bed and sink my mouth between her legs. “Oh no you don’t,” she taunts with a wag of her finger. “You’re a man in desperate need of being taken care of, and I intend to do just that.” She dips down for a quick taste of my lips and then draws back, grinning. “In every way possible.” Her eyes don’t leave mine as she slowly dips down in to suck on one of my nipples before letting it slip back out between her teeth. Laying back with my fingers laced behind my head, I groan. Then she lowers and runs her tongue across my chest, leaving a sizzling hot trail of saliva on my skin. She works her way down to my shorts, unbuttoning them as she goes so she’s able to lick the skin just above my dick. The erotic sensation along with her golden hair spilling across my chest is enough to make me come in my shorts, though I’m able to ride it out between clenched teeth. When she starts yanking on my shorts I adjust my hips to help her slide them down my legs. I swear to fuck just the anticipation of her soft lips on my cock has me so hard that I worry I’ll be jizzing patterns across the ceiling by the time she has my underwear off. But all at once she has me completely naked underneath her and all I can think about is how radiant she looks when she slides down between my legs. Eyes closed, thick eyelashes resting on her cheek, she wraps her lips around my cock and lightly sucks at the tip before taking it all in. I groan loudly, closing my eyes and titling my head back. Shit, I can’t remember the last time a woman gave

me head. I know for damn sure no one has done it as slow and tauntingly as Sharlo does, using a dizzying mix of tongue and gentle scrape of her teeth. Hell, I didn’t even ask for it and she’s acting like she’s enjoying herself. No woman has ever made me feel this way with a mere touch, and I don’t have a fucking clue what to do about it other than to get those little shorts off her body and seek her warmth. “You’re so beautiful sucking on my cock, little butterfly,” I mutter, sliding my hand inside her angel-soft hair and pulling it aside so I can see her face. “Don’t make me come inside your mouth. I have bigger plans for you tonight.” When she stops and backs away, her eyebrows rise. “In that case, I do hope you thought to bring condoms.” Remembering she could be carrying my child, I freeze in place. If I ask her how soon she can take a test, it’ll kill the moment and I can’t stand the idea of not getting to fuck her six ways to Sunday. I swallow the lump in my throat and carefully move out from underneath her, reaching for the duffle bag on the floor near the bed. The minute I have the foil packet in hand, Sharlo snatches it and rips the package open with her teeth. She takes her time rolling it on me, smirking as her little fingers do all the work. It’s hot while being torturous at the same time. When finished, she reaches for the waist of her shorts. I grab her by the waist and flip her over, making her squeal. Gritting my teeth, I bite out, “My turn.” I catch a wild look in her eye before I bend to kiss the tight skin behind her ear, making my way down her smooth neck before giving much deserved attention to each of her perky breasts. Every inch of her is precious and soft, fragile underneath my mouth and thick fingers. She mewls underneath me, fisting my hair and pushing her hips into my very eager dick. Unable to take it anymore, I claw at the material separating us until the head of my pulsating cock meets warm skin. I sink a finger into her and growl, giving her clit a deep massage with another finger. Sharlo clamps a hand around my wrist and her lips tilt with a sexy smirk. “Easy, luv,” she tells me, her breaths tight and uneven. “We’ll both be through before we’ve even begun.” Pushing her hand aside, I tilt my hips until I’m able to slip inside her wet warmth. We both groan when my cock fills her all the way, connecting us in a way that couldn’t feel any more perfect. Her fingernails dig into my shoulders and I bend down to steal another mind-bending kiss from her soft lips. I draw back and thrust into her again, loving the way she gasps inside my mouth. My finger and thumb toy with one of her nipples as I thrust inside her again and again, shifting my hips so I’m able to go in as deep as physically possible. Sharlo’s fingers move down to clench my ass cheeks, guiding me to thrust harder until I fear I’ll hurt her. I anchor my hands at her sides to stop myself from giving it my all, pounding into her until the headboard bangs so hard it might burst through the drywall. She draws back to steal a sharp breath, her slender neck arched to the ceiling, and she clenches around my cock. My name falls from her lips

like a mantra, over and over, and I fucking lose it with the sight of her ready to come. We tumble over the brink together, each of us making our own sounds of satisfaction. Her little hand rests over my chest as she wails her final release and I bite down on mine. My muscles shake as little tremors rake deep inside her body, and she quivers around my dick. I sigh deeply before sinking my head down to the space between her face and shoulder, laying on half of her body while making sure the majority of my weight is on the mattress. Breathing in her hair and the lingering scent of sex, I can’t remember a time I felt this satisfied or calm. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been carrying a constant tension on my shoulders, afraid for what will happen to everyone I care about. In this moment I feel carefree. Muscles slack, heartbeat slow. I’ve arrived in a fucking nirvana. Sharlo drags a lazy hand up to the top of my head and strokes my hair, releasing a satisfied little hum. “Don’t know about you, but I could use a fag right about now, and I detest smoking. That was lovely.” Face still buried in her nest of hair, I blow out a long breath and hook an arm around her, clutching her to me. If she says anything about going home, it will ruin the moment. And as much as I want to bring up the fact that she could be carrying my child, I don’t want anything to take away from my peaceful high. My breaths slow as she continues to stroke my head, her heavenly naked body tight against mine.

I ’d be a liar if I pretended I wasn’t disappointed to find Sharlo’s side of the bed

empty in the morning. I slept like a fucking log, only waking once in the night to discover she had rolled away from me. I drew her sleeping body back to mine and instantly fell asleep once my arm was locked around her waist. From the intensity of the light pouring into the room, I’m betting I missed my morning session with Manny by hours, and he won’t be impressed after all he went through to arrange next week’s match. I roll out of bed and drag my fingers through my wild hair as memories from the night before skate through my mind. The way it all played out—each of us thinking the other had moved on with someone else, then discovering it wasn't true, then her coming to find me—made it seem everything happened for a reason. And the way we had been so gentle with each other…I allowed myself to feel something for her. “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you,” Sharlo’s voice trills from the doorway. Looking up, my eyebrows lower on their own. In my NIN concert T-shirt, hanging off one creamy shoulder, and nothing else, she’s mouth-watering hot. With my naked dick stirring back to life, my eyes slowly drag up her toned legs before settling on her hand holding out a plate with toast and eggs. “You made me breakfast?” “I would’ve done it sooner had your arm not been locked around me as tightly as

a pit bull’s jaw,” she answers with a sexy little laugh. She gently pushes the plate into my stomach. “Afraid I’m not as brilliant in the kitchen as your sister, but I’m able to fry an egg and make toast without setting off any fire alarms. You were sleeping so sound that I decided you wouldn’t be coming downstairs anytime soon.” Fuckin’ A. She’s on track to being the perfect woman for a guy like me who isn’t really relationship material to begin with. “I’m late for training.” Crossing her arms, she shrugs her bare shoulder. “Then I suggest you eat quickly. Don’t imagine you’ll be worth much without a little protein to start your day.” Setting the plate on the dresser, I pull my underwear on from the night before and shift my weight from one foot to the other before looking her in the eye. “I had a good time last night.” “Oh, I know,” she sings with a smirk. “No need to rehash what transpired. Consume your calories and be on your way.” “Come with me,” I blurt, unsure how else to tell her that I don’t want her to leave without sounding like a desperate loser. Interest sparks in her blue eyes. “You want me to watch you fight?” “I’ll mostly just be slugging a bag and shit, but yeah, I’ll probably spar a little. I’ll introduce you to Manny and some of the guys.” Stepping closer, I dip my chin as my lips twitch with a little smile. “They’d probably welcome the chance to strut their stuff for a gorgeous woman. The place gets pretty boring when you’re locked inside all day.” She brings one of her fingers up to her mouth and gnaws on an already short nail. While looking down at the floor across the room, her lips bend with a smirk. “I suppose I could borrow something from Evelyn’s closet.” Her eyes draw up to meet mine, filled with uncertainty. “You’re sure you want me there?” I dip my chin with a nod. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.” “Okay, then,” she answers, breaking out in a wide grin. “Just give me a moment to reschedule a meeting with Charlie’s sister and I’ll be all yours.” Looking into her gaze, something hardens in my gut. Shit. I haven’t even known her that long and I’m already worried what I’ll do when she leaves. We may not have much time together, especially since I have to get back to Minnesota to help Uncle Orin and Hunter with planting, but I don’t want her out of my sight while I’m in the city. I have no idea what to do with the sudden need to have another human being close.

CHAPTER 10

SHARLO

hen James invited me to tag along to the gym, an offer I knew at once I’d be W unable to turn down, I expected there to be sweaty blokes and an electrified

atmosphere. What I wasn’t expecting was the rustic accommodations, the kindly old champion who takes a fancy to me from the go, or the way my stomach dips and bends with the sight of my surly warrior receiving the brunt of another man’s fists. I’m at a loss when trying to find ways to prevent myself from running over to the ring and begging him down on my knees to stop. I’m convinced I won't be able to handle watching him in a real fight. “You alright, sweetheart?” a deep voice asks behind me. “You look…tense.” I turn from my bird’s-eye view in the armchair to see a giant of a man looming over me. With wild brown hair and piercing green eyes, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and gym shorts, I’m unable to look away. As the size of his muscles are comparable to James’s, it’s clear he’s here to train, as well. The man has a look about him that’s both dangerous and intriguing due to a deep scar dividing one eyebrow and another one along his rather thick jaw. His wide lips spread with a friendly smile as he tips his head in the direction of the ring. “That your boy up there?” I’m unable to answer, not because I’m blinded by the man’s beauty—which, in all fairness, is a lot to take in—but because I’m not exactly sure what James is to me. Calling him my “fuck-mate” seems a bit crass, all things considered. Though we haven't discussed the status of our relationship, it seemed our bodies did a fair amount of talking on our behalves. Regardless, there’s no room for us to explore anything beyond a good shagging. He’ll leave before long and I’ll be left alone once more, no matter the feelings that I may have begun to develop. After a deep breath, I answer with, “The bloke in the blue gloves.” The man’s eyes light in interest and his smile grows. “I figured as much since I hadn’t seen him around before. Manny set up a match between me an’ him for next Friday. I’m looking forward to knocking him out.” Bending down, he rests his hand on the back of my chair until our faces are ghastly close. “How’d a goofy bastard like that manage to find himself a gorgeous British woman? Care to let me in on the secret, babe?”

“First off,” I say between clenched teeth, “I’m not your ‘babe’ or your ‘sweetheart’, and the mere act of calling me such when I don’t know you from Bob makes you a sexist twat. Secondly, you apparently haven’t spent any time watching James fight if you think you’re going to ‘knock him out’, as you say. And—” “Oh,” the man interrupts, one side of his mouth tilting with a wicked smirk, “I like you.” Moving his hand from the back of the chair, he squeezes my shoulder in a way that’s far too intimate coming from a complete stranger. “I enjoy a woman that’s up for a good fight. Gives me something to look forward to in bed.” If I didn’t already see him as a cheeky monkey, the suggestive wink he passes me would’ve sent me over the edge. Sucking in a deep breath, I become frozen in place. “I’d suggest you remove your hand before James literally removes it on your behalf.” “You think I’m scared of your man?” Releasing a low, irritatingly brass chuckle, his fingers continue touching me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I could beat him with one arm tied behind my back.” I’m ready to twist his arm behind his back and tell him to sod off when a great commotion arises from the ring. Gigantor and I both swing our heads around to see James’s opponent crash to the mat. He’s barely laid flat before James dips between the ropes and marches toward us, face pinched in irritation. His trainer shouts his name with an air of confusion, but James doesn’t slow his approach. I almost pity the bloke at my side, but I’m not that daft. “Get your fucking hand off her,” James warns him in a deadly tone, nostrils flaring about as if unable to control the anger stewing inside. The way the veins in his arms pulsate, I would guess he’s clenching and unclenching his fists inside his gloves. “Just giving your girl a proper welcome,” the man says, lifting both hands into the air. “No harm done.” “I could see clear across the goddamned room that you’re making her uncomfortable,” James bites out. “Touch her again and I’ll snap your fuckin’ arm in two.” Bloody hell. Knowing he’s about to lose his cool, I pop to my feet and wrap my hand around his sweaty bicep. My intimate parts perk to life with the familiar scent of James after a workout. It stirs up a queue of memories from the first time we shagged. “It’s alright, luv. This ‘man’ is nothing to get excited about.” “Breaking my arm wouldn’t make for a very fair match next week,” he tells James with another chuckle, either too moronic to understand I just insulted him or smart enough to know going after me with James at my side is a shit idea. “Though it’d probably be your only chance at beating me.” The intensity rolling off James when he glares back at the man, eyes narrowed, is enough to make anyone soil themselves in fear. “You’re Freddie Vaughn?” “If you want to back out, I’ll understand,” Freddie says with a nod of his head. “Your girl might be tempted to move along once I’ve rearranged that pretty face of yours.”

“No need to be a wanker!” I scold him, scowling. “I suggest you back away before I show you the kind of self-defense moves my dad insisted I assimilate at a very young age.” Freddie shakes his head, chuckling far too hard for someone dangerously close to getting their ass kicked. “Is this girl for real?” Just as James starts toward him and I’m stepping in to hold him back, their trainer appears at our side. His wrinkled gaze jumps between them. “That’s enough of that, boys. Save it for the ring.” “Can’t wait,” Freddie tells him as he cracks all the knuckles on one hand. The guy must have a death wish because his smirk returns when he glances back my way. “Looking forward to seeing your beautiful face in the crowd, sweetheart.” I do my best to physically restrain James before they start a row as Freddie struts off toward the bench press. “You’ve had a long week, son,” Manny tells James, his gaze all at once gentle. “Take the rest of the day off, spend it with this lovely lady. A little downtime can be just as good for the soul as training at the gym.” Lips quirking with a grin, his eyes swing my way. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sharlo. I’m counting on you to take good care of this young man. Make sure he’s in prime condition for next Friday’s match.” My stomach flutters when I realize I’m promised at least another week with James before he’s to leave. I take the old man’s frail, wrinkled hand between mine and smile. “The pleasure was all mine. And I promise to have him in tip-top shape.” James appears too distraught for words when he simply dips his head in compliance. As soon as Manny’s stepped away, James slips an arm around my waist and brings me tight up against him. “You okay, little butterfly?” “Of course,” I answer, setting my hand on his chiseled breastbone and looking him square in the eye. Being in close proximity to him this way and hearing the nickname makes it ever so tempting to drag him back to my place and spend the afternoon shagging. With the way he’s looking back at me, I wouldn’t expect him to put up any sort of fight either. “You must’n worry yourself over these kinds of things. I’ve lived in the city on my own long enough to know the difference between someone who poses a serious threat and someone simply in need of a good tongue thrashing. That big oaf knew exactly who you were and was merely trying to ruffle your feathers.” His parched lips part and the brilliant tongue all my favorable bits have gotten to know appears to wet them. “Let’s blow outta here. I could use something to eat.” “I know the perfect place to grab a bite.” Running a hand across his clammy chest, I throw him my most playful smile. “As long as you promise you'll leave room for dessert.” James is too distracted by watching Freddy across the gym to realize I’m being cheeky. Again I’m plagued with the sickening feeling that I’ll enjoy watching their row about as much as I care to endure another Brazilian waxing in this lifetime.

A fter stuffing our gullets with some of the best burgers the borough has to offer,

we head out on foot for the subway that will return us to Brooklyn Heights. James has been surly since we left the gym, having very little to say during our meal and giving me the coldest of shoulders. It would seem he’s still dwelling on our interaction with that Freddy bloke. Determined not to see it spoil our remaining time together, I take his large hand in mine and veer off the sidewalk toward the street, motioning for the first unoccupied cab to come into sight. “I thought we were taking the subway,” James says, frowning. I toss him a playful wink. “Change of plans.” He opens the back door and waits for me to slide in before sitting at my side. “Calvary Cemetery,” I tell the driver. “The old part.” “You got it,” the old bloke answers with a tilt of his head. When the car pulls away from the curb, James draws his eyebrows together. “You’re taking me to a cemetery?” “Nothing you see back home will compare to this one,” I promise, turning toward him. “The sculptures alone are worth a visit. And it’s past time you see a bit of the city, consume some of the local culture. I’d hate for you to travel all this way and see nothing more than four walls and the faces of those poor blokes you’ve been intent on rearranging.” After a short ride, the cab pulls up to the gates. As James insisted on buying my lunch, I insist on paying the driver before he leaves us alone at the mouth of the place I’ve always considered so fascinating. Seeing as James still seems reluctant to enjoy himself, I loop my fingers through his and lead the way through row after row of mausoleums and intricate headstones. I first became interested in the old cemetery when one of my art professors at the university cited the beauty in some of the mausoleums and statues. I never told a soul of my strange ritual, not even Richard back in the days when I was daft enough to believe he was my true love. This became my sanctuary, a place to meditate and clear my thoughts. Though it’s not exactly quiet with the madness of the Expressway so nearby, I was able to find my own kind of peace when discovering the beauty there was to be found in something so morbid. Once we’re afforded a brilliant view of the Manhattan skyline, I settle down in the grass beside my usual spot, pulling James down with our intertwined hands. His fingers leave mine, and he sighs deeply while running a hand through his mussed hair. Upon seeing him glance around with reluctance, it occurs to me how imbecile I’ve been bringing him here so soon after his dad’s death. “Is this alright?” I ask, trying not to cringe. His gaze settles on the skyscrapers and he nods. “The city looks so small from here.” “I’ve always adored this view. Wish I could afford something like it. Mindboggling how over a million people are on that island and it still stays afloat, eh?

And to think there are twice as many people buried in this cemetery. It’s madness.” James settles back on his hands, seeming to take it all in with a new appreciation when he gives the headstones surrounding us another sweeping glance. “Take a proper look at this,” I tell him, pointing to the one nearest my side. It’s rather small and obscure, the faded letters becoming more difficult to read from the elements of nature. But I know it by heart, having read it dozens of times. “It reads ‘here lies an unknown woman. Though she was young and beautiful, her life remains a mystery. May she rest in peace.’” Looping my arms around my bent knees, I smile up at James. “When I was a student, I spent oodles of time sitting here in this very spot, pondering what it would be like to be this woman—to pass without my loved ones knowing I’d gone on to the next realm. Or possibly not having anyone who gave a shit about my existence. Before I met Nolan, I was in this rather confounding state of my life in which I was far too caught up in things that made me unhappy. My parents’ divorce, Mum moving back to England, my cheating asshole of an ex, the fact that I didn’t have a lot of mates, and the idea that I may never find a lucrative job with my art studies. I was a miserable git, unable to see past my misfortunes to celebrate the small things in life. Unable to realize there were things worth going after and worth doing no matter my small misfortunes.” When his gaze averts to his feet, I reclaim his hand. Though he doesn’t pull away, he’s still unable to look my way. “We only have one shot at this life, James. Once it’s gone, we become nothing more than a mere name etched in stone, if we’re lucky enough to have found people to love us. Your dad was a lucky man to have so many children left to carry on his legacy. And from the size of his memorial, it would not only appear he touched many lives, but filled a respectable number of hearts as well. Though I didn’t know your dad aside from a few conversations at Ev’s wedding and the fact that he was a Fred Astaire at heart, I doubt any parent would want to see their child in so much pain rather than living their life to the fullest as they did. From what I’ve seen, you’re the thread holding your family together. As noble as that may be, I worry you’re too caught up in protecting them to focus on what makes you happy.” His teeth clench several times before he turns to regard me, his eyes heavy with pain. “I have my reasons.” “And I respect that, luv.” Drawing my hand up to his hard jaw, I run a thumb along its sharp line, hardly able to contain myself from ravaging his sultry lips. The ever-present intensity outpouring from somewhere deep inside his soul causes me to shiver. “It’s just that you mustn’t live your life so wrapped up in others’ that you neglect to truly live your own. I implore you to take a step back and find a way to continue to be their protector while immersing yourself in things that make you smile, because I have to say, when you do smile, those bloody lips have a way of making this world a better place for the rest of us.” His hand covers mine, causing a bout of pleasure to course through my lady bits. “What if it’s not that easy? What if the thing that makes me happy isn't within my

reach?” From the fierce way he’s looking back at me, I’m all at once pressed for breath. While I’d like to think he’s alluding to the fact that I’m what makes him happy, I can’t presume to know bugger all about what’s going on in his fit head. “Everything’s within your reach. You simply have to want it badly enough to make it yours.” To my utter dismay, his hand returns to his lap and his eyes dart back to the skyline. “Nothing’s that fucking easy.” “You’ll never know until you try,” I answer. For a moment he’s still, contemplating our conversation. Then his eyes return to mine, filled with unspoken complexity. “Have you taken a pregnancy test yet?” Wincing quietly with the unexpected land-mine of a question, I avert my gaze. I’ve been anxiously awaiting the arrival of my period, eager to know what future the hands of fate have dealt. It seems a bit ridiculous to think I could become attached to something with characteristics akin to a kidney bean, yet there’s a strange flutter in my stomach when I think we may have created something that would bond us for life. Offering a tight-lipped shake of my head, I turn back to meet his dark stare. “I imagine we should know if there’s reason to panic by the end of next week.” His brilliant tongue appears to wet his lips as his gaze skips back and forth between my eyes. “Whatever happens…whatever you decide to do, I won't let you go through it alone. It won’t be easy if I’m not here, but we’ll make it work somehow. We’ll take it one day at a time. You can call the shots as long as you don’t force me out of your life.” The ambiguous declaration is more than I can take. Is he merely saying he wants to help raise the child, or is he offering something more? When I don’t say anything in return, there’s an awkward silence that follows. I haven’t the faintest idea what I would do if I discovered that I am, in fact, pregnant. I’ve allowed myself to fall for someone who’s unavailable not only geographically, but for the most part, emotionally as well. And yet, I can't imagine giving a child away for someone else to raise. James certainly wouldn't allow it. I’m falling hard for the gentle giant at my side. Aside from the fact that he appears to enjoy our bedroom activities, I haven’t a clue what else he could possibly want out of this relationship. I doubt whatever may be taking shape between us could survive nightly video calls and rare opportunities to see each other in the flesh when all I want to do is ravage his brilliant body 24/7. All at once James rises to his feet and reaches for my hand. Once we’re standing so close my breasts are pressed against his rigid chest, he bends down for a sweet, unassuming kiss that’s still hot enough to blast my knickers into orbit. Then he breaks away, giving me a sultry look that makes my heart leap in my chest like one of those intolerable Jack-in-the-box contraptions. “You're coming back with me to Ev’s place,” he says among a possessive growl. I haven’t a single reason to protest, knowing from the desire thick in his tone

that he’s planning to give me exactly what I’m craving.

CHAPTER 11

JAMES

he shit Sharlo said at the cemetery hit home in more ways than I’m willing to T admit. No one has ever been able to glimpse inside my thoughts and put them out

there on display, making me face my reality. Though her candor makes me uneasy, there’s also a strange calm that washes over me, making it seem possible that I could place my burdens on her without it being overwhelming. But the idea of leaning on someone who’s as good and sweet as Sharlo hardens my insides. At times she reminds me of my sister Sofia before shit went down and changed her for life—hell, it changed both of us. I’d rather die than see Sharlo forced to go through the same kind of adjustment. The possibility that she’s carrying my child gives me all the more reason to protect her from the kind of shit that’s out there. Protect her from assholes like Freddie Vaughn. Even though she claimed to be fine when he was harassing her, I’m looking forward to the opportunity to rearrange his face for making her uncomfortable. The cab ride back to my sister’s is filled with a thick intensity every time our gazes meet or Sharlo’s body brushes against mine—none of which seems to be accidental. Ever since that kiss at the cemetery, I’ve been itching to strip her naked and take her to bed. Her vanilla scent is faint compared to usual, but every now and then I catch a whiff and it almost physically hurts not to draw her into my arms and continue that kiss. My balls are so tight by the time we’re walking up the steps to the brownstone that I swear to god they’ll burst before I make it inside. As soon as I hear the door click behind us and she’s saying something about a text from Evelyn, I whirl around and toss her over my shoulder. “What on earth are you doing?” she demands through a fit of giggles. “Making my shower more interesting.” She continues to squirm and giggle as I haul her small body up the stairway to the master bathroom. Setting her feet on the floor, I stare her down as I shed my clothes, loving the way her innocent blue eyes spark with lust once I’m buck naked. A sexy little grin that I’d fight Mike fucking Tyson for the chance to see again spreads across her lips as she quickly does the same, discarding her borrowed clothes onto a pile until every inch of her creamy skin is exposed for my eyes to drink in.

Something unhinges with the sight of Sharlo offering herself to me, no questions asked and no expectations demanded. There's no bullshit with her, no need to pretend I’m something other than myself. I don’t have a fucking clue what she sees in me or what she wants out of this thing we have. All I know is everything about her calls to my darkest desires in a way I can’t explain. When I’m deep inside of her, my worst fears are quieted and for a short time I’m able to find peace. I grab her hand and pull her over to the shower, turning the nozzles before bending down to claim her sweet lips. A quiet hum sounds in her throat before she wraps her fingers in my hair and pushes her soft body into mine, kissing me back with full tongue. The feel of her perfect tits and warm pussy taut against my tense muscles nearly has me coming against her belly. Feeling like I’m about to lose my load, I pull back to rest my forehead on hers, breathing heavily. How the fuck am I supposed to control myself when just being around her makes me dizzier than a sucker punch to the head? Next thing I know, she’s leading me all the way inside the shower and we’re both drenched. She releases my hand to grab a bottle of shampoo before moving behind me. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me do all the work.” Her gentle fingers begin to massage shampoo into my hair, their sensual caress making it hard not to grab her by the hips and hurry things along. Though I can hardly take the pressure in my balls any longer, she’s setting the pace and a twisted side of me wants to know what it feels like to hand total control over to someone else. With a growling moan, I close my eyes and let her finish before she nudges my head forward to rinse underneath the warm shower spray. Once the shampoo is gone, she grabs the body wash and spreads the gel across my back, stopping to knead my aching muscles with expert pressure from her thumbs. I know what she’s doing—taking care of me in a way she thinks I deserve, and I’m useless to stop it even if I don’t necessarily agree. It feels fucking amazing to receive her affection. If I didn't know any better, I’d say she’s touching me lovingly, something I have no idea what to do with. Love isn’t something I’ve felt for anyone outside of my family in a very long time. She continues to spread the gel across my entire back until my body's as useless as a wet noodle and my cock is uncomfortably hard. Then she moves around to face me and begins the process on my chest, grinning when I loosely set my hands on her hips. My eyes draw down to watch the drops of warm water trail across her flawless skin, soaking her hair in darker than usual strands around her delightfully pink tits. The need to take one in my mouth is so overwhelming that a growl slips from my throat. As her hands move down to my thighs, slowing to a deliciously taunting rhythm, I rest my hands on the shower wall behind her to restrain myself. When one of her fingers swirls around my cockhead, I snarl through my teeth. Sharlo quickly rises up to meet my mouth with hers, slipping her tongue inside and kissing me hard while her hand wraps around my impossibly strained dick to tug lightly. She comes up for air when I fist a handful of her wet hair.

“I need you, baby,” I growl out against her lips. “I need you so fuckin’ bad.” Looking up at me from behind wet lashes, her lips quirk with a smile that seems too sad for her beautiful face. But then her hands wrap around my neck and I boost her up into my arms. I move over to a dry corner of the massive shower and lower her down until her tight pussy clenches around me, milking my release when I guide her up and down. I stare into the clear blue eyes of the only woman who has meant more to me than I can express in words, and wonder how in the hell I’ll ever be able to leave her behind to head back home. A part of me hopes she is pregnant so there won’t ever have to be a goodbye, and we won't have any excuses not to stay in each other’s lives. Then she’s kissing me again and my thoughts are silenced with an intense wave of pleasure crashing through my groin. Roaring, I pull her off me so quickly that her eyes widen and her mouth forms a perfect “O.” When she sees the cum shooting against her stomach, I clench my teeth and curse myself for forgetting a condom yet again. Maybe the subconscious need to keep her in my life isn’t as subconscious as I’m trying to make myself believe. “We seem to have a knack for getting carried away,” she says playfully, nudging me back toward the shower stream. Her eyes darken when she smirks. “Looks like I’ll have to wash you down once more.” Too spent to protest, I steady myself on her shoulder when she goes to work, not at all surprised when her touch makes me hard all over again.

O ver the next thirty-some hours, when I’m not in the gym we spend every waking moment together, locked away in the brownstone. Every time I learn something new about her, my desire to stay with her grows until it’s this massive thing that’s bigger than the both of us. She’s bold and unreserved in her sexual fetishes, ready to try anything new. She doesn’t care if we’re gentle and slow or hard and fast, and it drives me insane. The way I feel about her can’t be described in words, so I try my best to show her with my body, giving her everything she wants. When I wake on Sunday, I decide to surprise her with an outing she’ll never forget. While she sleeps quietly at my side, I use my laptop to plan our day. Once finished, I set the computer on the nightstand and decide it’s time to wake her. “Mmmm,” she hums when I nuzzle the smooth curve of her neck. I deliver a string of soft kisses down her silky skin to her breasts, lightly scraping my teeth over a taut nipple. One of her hands twists in my hair as she leans up, gasping. “I believe I now know what heaven must be like.” “Lay back, little butterfly,” I whisper against her firm skin, loving the way my breath makes the skin around her nipple pebble. “I plan to enjoy my breakfast before we go on an adventure.” “An adventure, eh? What exactly do you have planned, James Kendall?”

“It’s a surprise,” I answer before taking the breast in my mouth and swirling my tongue around its little peak. She gasps again when I work my thumb over her clit. Before long, I sink two fingers into the warm wetness between her thighs. Part of me worries she’s too sore to take on any more. Another part knows my sweet girl’s naughty side will secretly cherish a little bit of pain and she’d stop me if she didn’t want it. I finish her off with my mouth, lightly brushing her clit between my teeth before sucking on it until she’s crying my name and digging her sharp nails into my skin. I could make her come a dozen times every day and still want to do it again. The way she throws her head back and loses all control has me nearly falling off the edge right beside her. I can almost get off by just watching her lips part and her tits push up into the air whenever she utters my name at the peak of her arousal. When she tells me it’s my turn, I chase her off to the shower, promising there will be time for that later. She’s dressed by the time I’m done showering and we’re out the door right on schedule. On the subway ride to the car rental company, I catch her studying me several times with a confused expression. Later, as I drive the foreign car over the East River, she holds her bottom lip between her teeth whenever she looks my way. It’s obviously driving her crazy that she doesn’t have a clue where we’re going. “Had I known you were up to something, I could’ve arranged for a driver,” she finally says after a long break of silence. “You barely fit behind the steering wheel.” “It was cheap,” I answer, shrugging one shoulder. Setting my right hand over hers, I wrap our fingers together and grin like a fool. I seem to be doing a lot of that these days. “My dad taught us to save our money for the important things.” She smiles and squeezes my hand. “Sounds like your dad was a wise man. I wish I would’ve had the chance to get to know him properly.” “I could tell at Evelyn and Charlie’s wedding that he really liked you. He normally doesn’t like to dance.” Eyebrows shooting up, she asks, “You saw us dancing together?” “I saw everything you did that night,” I confess. “When you danced with my cousin, I wanted to drag you away from him. When that drummer from Charlie’s band wouldn’t stop flirting with you, I wanted to throw him into a snow bank. More than anything, I wanted to take you up to my room, but I knew Evelyn would be pissed that I messed around with her friend on her wedding day.” I rub her bony wrist with my thumb as I look her in the eye. “I wish I would’ve had the balls to do it anyway.” Her cheeks darken a little when she laughs. “Tell me more of your dad. What was he like when you were growing up?” “He worked long hours like your dad, only I got to ride along with him in the field. I was never really into farming. When I was a kid, I just liked hanging out in the tractor so I could watch my hero go to work. In the fall, he’d put in fifteen-hour days until he was so tired he could hardly stand. He wasn’t an especially big guy, but he had massive arms from working the augers and lifting seed bags. I admired

how his hands were always dirty and scarred from hard labor. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Then he decided I could handle driving tractor by myself and it suddenly wasn’t as much fun. Dad was a slave driver and didn’t let us have much of a social life. I was a punk about it for a while and said some things I wish I could take back, especially after Mom died. He became a completely different person once she was gone.” “I can’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve been like for him, left to tend to all those children on his own.” Tilting her head, her eyes narrow with a look that makes me feel vulnerable. “Would you give it up then?” she asks. “Running the farm with your family?” “It’s complicated,” I answer truthfully. While I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for a real chance to be with Sharlo, it isn't as simple as walking away without making arrangements. I can’t leave my brother and uncle high and dry now that Dad’s gone, especially when some of the land is in my name and the crops will need to be in the ground soon. “So what was it like being an only child?” I ask, hoping to skate around her unanswered question. We share more childhood memories with each other the rest of the way as the city fades behind us, making the remainder of the two-hour trip fly by. When we’re close to our destination, I pull over to the side of the road and reach into my pocket, grabbing the tie I snagged from Charlie’s closet. “You drove all this way to gag me on the side of a road with a five hundred dollar swatch of silk?” Sharlo asks, giving me a playful expression that makes me want to pull her outside and fuck her while she’s bent over the hood of the car. My balls tighten with the visual. “Bravo, darling. You’ve come a long way in embracing your kinky side.” Chuckling, I swallow hard before bending to wrap the material around her head and securing it with a knot in the back. “Not now, little butterfly,” I whisper against her ear, “but definitely later.” Her entire body shivers when I steal a slow kiss from her lips before pulling back into traffic. Past a small bridge and a down gravel road, we arrive to a nearly empty lot. I park near the entrance before running over to the passenger side, opening Sharlo’s door, and guiding her toward the little cottage. A round old woman with thick white hair piled on top of her head comes dashing out the front door to greet us. Wearing a long dress with bright red flowers and a wide smile that spreads her lips thin, I decide she’s the friendly type before she even opens her mouth. Glancing at Sharlo, she claps her hands together. “Ah, young love!” she declares with a soft laugh and a slight Italian accent. “You’ve brought her here as a surprise, no?” Though slightly rattled by the old woman’s assumption that we’re in love, I nod in reply. “Eccellente! My name is Fiona.” “I’m Sharlo and the brooding romantic one is James,” Sharlo answers, blindly sticking out to her hand for the woman to take. “Lead the way to the male revue if

you must. Just know I don’t have any hard limits and enjoy a little spank or two.” The woman refuses Sharlo’s hand, instead throwing her a stern look before motioning for me to follow. Though Sharlo’s comment about being spanked grabs my dick’s attention, I have to bite on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing when she obediently walks along with me, her hand still extended. “You can put your hand down,” I whisper. “She doesn’t seem the touchy-feely type.” We follow a small stone path through tall grass where I spot a few free-range chickens and squirrels roaming about. The woman takes us through the first doorway inside a dome-shaped structure lined in plastic. “Follow the rules clearly printed inside the entrance, no? You pay twenty dollars each.” I dig into my billfold and pass her a $50 bill. Without bothering to ask if the rest is a tip, the woman stuffs it down the front of her dress and starts back for the first doorway, tossing me a playful wink. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything, signore.” “Thank you!” Sharlo calls after her. “If it’s a brilliant show, we’ll tip accordingly!” Laughing, I lead her through the second doorway where the air feels warm and clean. Taking advantage of the moment, I stop to study the tilt of Sharlo’s lips, the gentle slope of her nose, the feminine lines of her jaw, the gentle curl of her golden hair across her slim shoulders. In nothing more than a plain gray, sleeveless Tshirt that’s somewhat loose on her but still clings to the swell of her gorgeous breasts, and modest cut-off jeans that make her legs look longer, she’d still put every centerfold to shame. Needing someone the way I need Sharlo is a completely foreign concept, yet it somehow feels right. There’s no denying it at this point—I’m a fucking goner. Pushing my body up against hers, I reach back to release the tie. “Keep your eyes closed,” I say before brushing my lips over hers and stepping back. When her dark lashes come into view, I grin to myself, pleased with my decision to bring her here. “You can open them, little butterfly.” The moment her beautiful blue eyes come into view, she slaps both hands over her mouth and makes a high-pitched squeal. I’m hoping it’s a happy noise. As she tries to take in every last part of the habitat—green plants and flowers as bright as Fiona’s dress taking up every square inch—a thick dusting of black and orange butterflies takes flight, seeming curious by their new visitors. Sharlo slowly lifts her hands out at her sides, patiently waiting for several to land on her bare arms. “Oh, James,” she declares among a sigh. It’s not the same way she breathes my name when I’m making her come, but it’s a close second. The smile on her face stretches so wide that I feel myself matching it until my cheeks are ready to crack from the pressure. I’m able to see a glimpse of the carefree little girl who went with her dad to the beach to watch the migrating butterflies, as well as a glimpse into the kind of innocent happiness she’d have to offer our child. How could anything be better than a lifetime with someone free-

spirited who makes me feel worthwhile and lets me worship her body to the point of exhaustion? “You brought me to a Monarch sanctuary,” she finally says with a wavering smile. “Don’t tell the handsome bloke I’ve been shagging the past few days, but it would seem this even beats a proper spanking.” Then she pulls me into her arms with big fat tears filling her eyes. “You have no idea what this means to me.” I try like hell to think of a way to tell her what she means to me, but I’m caught up by the tender way she strokes my cheek and looks up at me like I’m the only guy in the world. I tilt her chin back and kiss her the way she deserves, wanting to show her the words I can’t seem to say. Thoughts of returning home cracks me hard in the chest. As much as it hurts, it’s inevitable.

CHAPTER 12

JAMES

still halfway dark outside and Sharlo’s sleeping soundly in my arms when I I t’s wake to the sound of my ring tone. The night before we ordered dinner from

Sharlo’s favorite burger joint and watched a new release with her curled up against me. After deciding the movie was lame, she straddled me on the couch and gave me the most sensual lap dance of a lifetime. I took her to bed and we went at it hard until we both passed out from exhaustion. It’s nearly been a solid week since we reconnected, one that’s been filled with exploration of each other’s bodies and minds. Things changed between us after I took her to see the butterflies. Every touch meant something. Relentless fucking took a back seat to slow and steady sex in a silent devotion of our bodies. It’s impossible to think about anything but her, even when I’m supposed to be concentrating on my technique with Manny in preparing for the upcoming match with Freddie. More than ever I dread what it will be like when I’m forced to return home for planting in a couple of weeks. I don’t ever bring it up, and I’m beginning to suspect Sharlo’s in denial since she’s always going out of her way to avoid the subject, except for when we were in the rental car and she asked if I’d give it up. My phone continues to ring, ripping me away from my thoughts. First taking a minute to inhale her intoxicating scent and nestle my lips in the thick of her soft hair, I silence the ringer and disentangle our limbs before sneaking out into the hallway. “James,” my twin greets me in a slow, reluctant voice, “you have to come home. The FBI arrested a suspect in connection with Dad’s murder.” Being around Sharlo has done a helluva job repressing the anger that reared its head the night of Dad’s funeral, but with Hunter’s news, the dam suddenly breaks free. My fingers grip my phone so tightly that I’m surprised when I don’t hear the stupid thing crack.“Who?” “This isn’t something I should tell you over the phone.” “Hunter, fucking tell me or I swear to god—” “It’s Uncle Orin.” What the fuck?

Ice cold dread trickles down my back. Why—what reason would Dad’s own brother have to kill him? They’ve had minor disagreements over the years, but nothing violent or too earth-shattering. Uncle Orin has always been a pretty laid back kind of guy, a lot like Dad, and they acted like the best of friends as much as they were brothers. When the FBI first told us they believed Dad and Uncle Orin had conspired for years with a government employee to get more money out of the state’s conservation program, I thought the idea was bullshit. But maybe it wasn’t Dad. Maybe Uncle Orin was the one scamming money, and Dad tried stopping him. My mind can’t wrap around the other alternatives. “They won't say what they have on him,” Hunter continues, “but it can’t be good. He’s in there without bail. You’re gonna have to come back, JD. This has turned into a real cluster-fuck. We have to plan for planting since it doesn’t look like he’ll be out by then. I can’t run the planter and take care of everything else on my own.” “I’ll be on the first flight out.” Numb, I end the call. The possibility that my own flesh and blood is a murderer festers in my gut, threatening to purge everything from the night before. It’s like one of those shitty detective shows Dad liked to watch has become my real life. Staring down at my phone, I try to get my shit together. The match with Freddie will have to be cancelled and I don't have Manny’s number, but it’s almost sixthirty and he’s always in the gym by six. Guess I’ll be hitting the gym one more time before I have to split. I steal back into the room, slipping into a T-shirt and gym shorts. Sharlo makes a cute little moaning noise from the bed, jarring me back to reality. How in the hell am I supposed to head home and leave her behind? “Everything alright, luv?” Fucking hell. Every time she calls me that, I struggle with whatever’s happening between us. I know it’s a term she uses on all her friends, but her voice sounds different when she uses it on me, like it means so much more. “I have to go,” I grunt with my back still to her. If I turn and look into her beautiful eyes, it’ll only be harder to let her go. “Hunter needs me.” “You’re going home?” she asks, suddenly right behind me. When her thin arms wrap around my waist and her warm, naked body presses to my back, I clench my jaw. “I thought we had more time.” “Don’t have a choice. Something came up and I have to help run the farm.” “Were you planning to leave a tip on the nightstand before you left?” Though she’s trying to make light of a situation as usual, I can hear the disappointment she’s trying to hide. The thought of leaving her is more painful than I could’ve imagined, like someone reached into my chest and ripped my heart out with their bare hand. I whip around to take her delicate face in my hands. “Come with me.” Her blue eyes widen and a hotter-than-shit smirk pulls at one side of her lips. “Exactly how long will you be staying?”

“A few weeks, maybe more.” The smirk fizzles. “I can’t stay that long. I still put in occasional shifts at the gallery and our fashion line demands my attention.” “Can’t Katie handle it until Evelyn returns?” With a gut-wrenchingly sad look, she pulls my hands away from her face. “I want to be there for you, luv. I really, really do. But you can’t ask me to sit around on your ranch and do nothing while you’re off working ungodly hours. That sort of thing would drive me nutters. I don’t mind popping back for a visit, but that sort of lifestyle isn’t my cuppa tea. Without having the option of shopping for anything my heart desires in the middle of the night, or the constant bustle of traffic and rude people to keep me on my toes, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” And there it is, the biggest obstacle keeping us apart. While I don’t mind the big city life, and I actually dig my sister’s quiet little neighborhood, I have a duty to carry on Dad’s legacy and keep the farm running. Letting myself feel something for this beautiful, perfect woman was as stupid as thinking I ever had a chance at becoming a boxing champ. With my stomach coiled into a tight knot, I turn my back on her naked body before I do something stupid like take her back to bed and beg her to change her mind. “After I’m packed, I have to run down to the gym to tell Manny the match is off.” “What time’s your flight?” “Haven’t booked one yet.” “I’ll see what’s available,” she offers. Then she steps in beside me to rest her hand on my bicep and asks in a soft voice, “When will you be coming back?” “I don't know,” I answer too roughly. “After we’ve finished planting, there’s spraying to be done and I have to help my brother sort through some other shit.” When I turn to catch her pained expression, I can hardly breathe. “You’ll call me when you know? I mean…if there’s a baby?” “Of course,” she answers in a mockingly-cheery tone. I catch the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she moves away to slip into her panties and bra. “Once we’ve booked you a flight, I’ll arrange for a car to take you to the airport.” A minute later she’s fully dressed and returns to me with another depressingly weak smile. With her hands resting on my chest, she rises to her tip-toes and brushes her lips over mine. Then her mouth moves to my ear, her lashes brushing over my cheek, and she whispers, “I’ll miss you, my love.” Each of her soft steps down the hallway feel like a strike to my chest. Knowing this goodbye may be final, I’m nearly as gutted as I was the night I found Dad’s lifeless body.

W ith three hours to spare before my ride is set to arrive, I head to the gym with my packed bag and let off some steam after breaking the news to Manny.

Disappointment flared in the old man’s eyes when I told him I was leaving indefinitely, but he smiled and told me he understood, then said I was welcome to come back any time. It was nearly as hard to accept his kindness as it was Sharlo’s flat goodbye kiss outside of the brownstone. “Can you believe this fuckin’ pansy-ass?” someone yells. I’m so deep into my workout that I don’t realize the comment was directed my way until I hear, “Guess Midwestern boys don’t have the balls to fight someone with my reputation.” Fuck. Breathing heavily, I still the bag I’m working with and turn to face Freddie, my jaw jutted out. Dressed in street clothes, he’s surrounded by two big guys and they're all smirking like fools. Knowing he’s only here to stir shit up, I begin to remove my gloves. “Couldn’t be helped,” I say with a shrug. “Family emergency back home.” Freddie crosses his meaty arms, chuckling to himself. “I call bullshit. I think you’re just afraid that hot-ass pussy of yours would’ve realized she’s making a mistake and should be fucking a real man like me instead.” Roaring, I launch myself at him. He anticipates the attack and locks my head in the crook of his arm. I reach down for his knees and pull, catching him off guard and throwing him down to the floor. His buddies are cheering him on as he flips to his side and locks an arm around my neck. I roll up to sit and knock him off my back, sending him back to the ground. When I come at him with my fist cocked, he dodges the first blow but doesn't anticipate the second one I deliver to his stomach. As he’s recoiling from the strike, I throw another into his face. I’m flooded with satisfaction with the site of blood streaming from his nose and intend to hit him again until a set of arms lock around my chest and drag me away. Eyes narrowed on Freddie as his buddies help him back to his feet, I roar, “Don’t ever talk about her like that again, motherfucker!” “He’s not worth it, James!” the man holding me back yells. “Shake it off!” “I’m not done with him!” I protest, struggling to break free. I wiggle away from the man enough to jab my elbow into something hard. As the arms drop from around me, I twist around to find Sharlo’s friend Nolan cradling his bearded jaw. “Where the fuck did a boxer learn all those jiu-jitsu moves?” he asks, frowning. “Why are you here?” I return, scowling after that coward Freddie who’s already scampering away with his hand over his bloody face. “Shar asked me to give you a ride to the airport.” Nolan flexes his jaw and smirks. “Wasn’t expecting I’d have to defend myself.” I wasn’t expecting him when Sharlo said she’d arrange for a car, but whatever. As long as he gets me to the airport on time, I’m not going to complain. I gesture to his jaw. “Sorry about that.” He readjusts the rolled-up sleeves on his dress shirt. “I can take a beating.” Maybe Nolan isn’t such a bad guy after all. Shaking off the residual anger from my run-in with Freddie, I cross the room to grab my duffle bag. Leaving this gym feels like another difficult goodbye I’m not ready to give. It was a welcome escape from all the bullshit dragging me down.

Nolan steps in beside me as I head for the exit. “What’s with you and Freddie?” With the mention of the asshole’s name, my veins heat up once again. “You know him?” “Every now and then he shows up in the jiu-jitsu circuit. The guys a reputation for being an asshole to everyone he fights and doesn’t know what he’s doing. Some boxers can transition over without too much trouble, but Freddie has a lot to learn. You, on the other hand, show a lot of potential based on what I just saw.” “Don’t know anything about it. I was a wrestler in high school. Sometimes that training kicks in.” Nolan pulls a key fob from his pocket and stops to unlock a newer BMW, tipping his chin my way. “When you come back to the city, have Sharlo give me a call. If you’re interested, I’d be willing to work with you on some jiu-jitsu moves. There’s good money to be made in the MMA circuit.” Crossing to the passenger’s side, I grunt. “Don’t know that I’m coming back.” Nolan stares at me over the car’s roof, rubbing his jaw. “Have you told Sharlo that?” Without answering, I slip inside. Since he’s a good friend of hers, he’s probably ready to launch into a speech about fucking with her and I’m in no mood for that shit. Hurting her is the last goddamned thing I would ever want to do. Nolan plops down into the driver’s seat, tight-lipped when he shoots a dark look my way. “Shar’s not like most girls. Ever since that Richard fuck cheated on her, she’s tried to keep it casual with guys. She doesn’t want to get attached to anyone because she's worried they’ll take off. She won't admit it to anyone other than me and her therapist, but she has abandonment issues. Her mom split the country without her and her dad was never around. It’s the only reason she kept taking Richard back. Some twisted part of her thought he was the best she could do. I know she comes off as being tough, but there’s a vulnerable side to her that she goes out of her way to hide from everyone, including me. If you want to be with her, you’re going to have to prove you’re not some random dickhead who’s going to just walk out of her life. You’ll have to fight hard for her, James—probably harder than you've fought for anything in your life.” Though I already caught on that Sharlo wasn’t as tough as she lets on, I feel like a massive jerk for basically walking out on her when it seems that’s her greatest fear. Maybe it's best that I’m leaving the city since I’m proving to be the kind of guy who’s willing to leave without looking back.

CHAPTER 13

SHARLO

llowing James to leave the city without falling to my knees and begging him to A stay was one of the hardest experiences I’ve ever endured. It’s undeniable I think of what we have as something far beyond a simple affair, though I’m not exactly sure how to define it either. What we had was beautiful, though we both knew it was temporary. He had little to say after asking me to accompany him back home, making it clear his family’s business is his priority. That’s not something I can ask him to walk away from with a clear conscience. Unfortunately my wanker-of-aconscience was also quick to remind me that I’m going to have some hard and fast decisions to make if I’m carrying his unborn child. James texts to let me know he made it safely back to their ranch. The message is short and cold, with no mention of how he felt about our short time together or how he wishes things could be different. It would seem he’s moving on, leaving me to struggle with the idea that things between us may not work out the way I had hoped. The first few days after he’s gone, I’m able to keep myself occupied by working double shifts at the gallery, sketching out new designs for our Rocker Chique line, shopping for material in the Garment District, daily luncheons with Nolan, scheduling extra appointments with my therapist, and taking video calls from Evelyn as they work their way across the country on Charlie’s tour. Every bloody time my phone rings—which is much more than usual—I dive for it like a complete nutter, thinking James has rung to say he’s decided to come back. But I seem to have made some juvenile’s prank list as there’s no one on the other end, and the calls are all originating from a blocked number. There’s one exception on the rare occasion when Mum rings. I wouldn’t have answered the call had I not known she was still out of country and figured she had once again changed her number without telling me. I was right. Mid-week when I meet Nolan for dinner at our favorite rooftop restaurant, there’s a glass of champagne waiting beside the empty setting. Always the perfect gentleman, he hurries around to kiss my cheek and pull my chair out. As he reclaims the seat across from me, his handsome face lights with a smile brighter than the city skyline to his back. He’s maddeningly attractive in a sports

coat and pin-striped dress shirt, so it’s no surprise when I catch an entire table of middle-aged women throwing lustful glances his way. A person would have to be completely blind not to appreciate his good looks. “Glad you’re here, Shar. I ordered a bottle of their best bubbly to celebrate.” I wrap my fingers around the smooth glass stem. My stomach churns at the idea of drinking even the smallest bit of alcohol with the likelihood that I’m pregnant. I’ll be damned if I’m going to be responsible for messing up the poor child’s noggin. It will already have enough of a struggle with a mum who can’t get her shit together. “And what are we celebrating exactly?” I ask. Nolan settles back against his chair with the kind of smoldering look that, for a short time, made me long to be more than his good mate. His free hand strokes his well-trimmed beard and a cocky little grin quirks his lips. “To being the kind of friends that can tell each other everything.” I prop my chin with my fist and narrow my eyes. “Something you’d like to ask?” “You always have a drink when we get together for lunch, but you haven’t had one in days. What gives, Shar?” “Simply because I’m not in the mood to get intoxicated you’re to assume there’s something I’m not telling you?” Nolan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you going to sit there and pretend I don’t know you by now?” I sigh dejectedly, letting my shoulders slump. “I haven’t been flying the Japanese flag in some time.” When Nolan’s eyebrows draw down with confusion, I roll my eyes. “I believe I may be pregnant.” “Was that so hard to tell me?” he asks with an annoying chuckle. I point across the table at him. “You mustn’t breathe a word of this to Evelyn.” “So it’s her brother’s?” “Of course it’s her brother’s. Are you insinuating I’ve become some kind of slag?” “Just checking,” he answers, shrugging. “The way he left—” “He wanted me to come along.” “Why didn’t you?” “He lives in God’s country, Nolan. You have no idea, you’ve never been there. A person can drive for miles without seeing another living soul. How long do you think I’d survive in a place that destitute?” A dull ache spreads through my belly with the truth. “Perhaps it’s a sign I was never meant to do anything more than get off with him.” Nolan crosses his arms over his thick chest. “What’re you planning to do if you are pregnant?” “That is an excellent question considering I know fuck all about parenting.” “No one knows anything their first time,” he tells me, offering a brilliant smile. “Why do you think those ‘what to expect’ books are so popular? You’d figure it out, Shar. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

My phone buzzes from inside my purse with a call. Other than my persistent admirer, no one bothers calling, so it’s of no surprise to see “blocked caller” flash across the screen when I reach down to silence it. “Was that him?” Nolan asks, raising one eyebrow. “Unless he’s gone barmy and decided to buy an untraceable phone, it wasn’t James. I seem to have caught the attention of an anonymous admirer.” Nolan leans over the table, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Someone’s harassing you? How long has this been going on?” “It’s nothing, I assure you.” “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He reaches for his phone and begins typing furiously with his fingers while occasionally glancing my way. “Remember my friend Brent? He’s a computer engineer and a fucking genius with cell phones. I’ll have him meet you in the morning so he can get a trace on the caller.” “That’s quite unnecessary,” I sing with a sigh, knowing he won’t back down regardless. His phone dings with a message that he reads before setting it back down. “He said he’ll meet us when I open the bar tomorrow.” Crossing his arms over his chest, his features smooth out and he sighs. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and James? The only time I’ve seen you with him was that night at the bar and you were acting like a total nut job before you ran out of there. He didn't have much to say on the way to the airport, but I got the feeling he was reluctant to leave.” “What does it matter?” I ask, holding my hands out at my sides. “Not much can be done. We had a lovely time while he was here, but he’s obligated to his family’s business, and I’m not about to pick up and move somewhere that requires cowgirl boots. We may have been right for each other in other ways, but in the end, it’s over.” Nolan’s brows shoot upright. “You’re not going to tell him if you are pregnant? That doesn’t seem fair to the poor guy. Or the baby.” “If I am carrying his child, I suppose I’d tell him eventually, just not until the mystery of his dad’s murder has subsided a bit more. He doesn’t need the added stress of deciding how to raise a child from a million miles away. And if he decides later on not to partake in this, the little nugget would still have a charming Uncle Nolan to change his nappy and teach him whatever he needed to know about properly caring for his John Thomas.” Nolan chuckles. “You’re hoping it’s a boy?” “Don’t be daft. I’m hoping it’s not a thing. I don't have time in my life for a miniature James, no matter how handsome and charming he may be.” “Have you taken a test?” Shrugging, I take a slow sip of my water. “I visited the pharmacy yesterday and brought one home. Something about holding that little box in my hand made it too real. I will get there, eventually. It’ll just take some time since I’m unable to find courage in the bottom of a whiskey bottle.”

Nolan reaches across the table to take my hand in his. “Would it help if I came over?” “You really believe I can pee with Manhattan’s wealthiest playboy perched at my side?” I squeeze his hand and laugh when he scowls at my playful jab. “Sorry, but it’s something I need to do on my own.” “Don’t put it off, Shar. Knowing you, this is something you’ll procrastinate the hell out of until your pants don’t fit and you’re asking me to bring you pickles and whatever shit pregnant woman crave. Better to get it over with now before you make yourself sick worrying about it.” After the waitress arrives to take our order, I’m able to avoid the subject for the rest of the night, though Nolan continues to give me forlorn glances as if I’m a troll at a pageant. We part ways after his nightcap and I return home to stare at the small contraption that will reveal my fate. Somehow I seem to think ignorance is bliss and tuck it back inside the medicine cabinet.

A t a time earlier than fit for human decency, I meet Nolan and his mate, Brent, at

Leona’s. Nightmares of screaming infants and an unreasonably furious James made for a shit night of sleep, and I’m ready to row when the computer geek insists on hijacking my phone. By the time Charlie’s sister, Katie, pops in early afternoon to work on building some of my ideas for our collection, I’m mad to the point of being certifiable. Normally I’m the one to sketch out our ideas, Evelyn enters them into the computer to generate a pattern, Katie sews them together, and we all three handle the business aspect of things. Today, however, I’m merely able to scribble random drawings of sad little butterflies as Katie manipulates swatches of cloth. After forty minutes of hashing out a design, she drapes an arm over the dress form, scowling my way. Dressed in a fuchsia top and a pair of loose-fitting slacks, I’m again pressed to understand how someone who always appears ready to hit the beach circa 1985 can possess such an astute eye for fashion. “Alright, what gives?” she demands. “I swear it’s like aliens have nestled inside that pretty little head of yours and abducted the Sharlo we all know and love. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think a minute ago you were about to deck me one for disagreeing with your fabric choice. Evelyn mentioned you’ve seemed a little off since her brother left. Unless you want me to tell her to skip Charlie’s tour and fly back for an intervention, you best start spilling the beans, missy.” “You wouldn’t dare.” Tossing her golden hair over her shoulders, she flashes a wicked smile. “Try me.” “I swear you and that brother of yours were raised by a pack of Mad Hatters,” I mumble, straightening my shoulders and setting the pen in my hand down onto my sketch pad. “Breathe a word of this to Ev or your brother and I’ll tell them both of

your torrid affair with Dante the night of their nuptials.” Katie rolls both her eyes and a hand through the air. “My time with the hot bodyguard is up, but whatever. My lips are sealed, sister. Just because I enjoy the art of gab doesn’t mean I can’t keep a juicy secret to myself. Remember, I have two teenage boys. I’ve seen and heard shit that would make you think twice about using the bathroom at my house.” “I don’t want to know what on earth you’re insinuating, especially when I may be dealing with that sort of thing far too soon for my liking.” “Wait…” Her eyes skip back and forth on the wall behind me. “Are you—” “I’m several days late, yes. I have a test, I just haven’t the courage to actually soil the little piece of plastic.” “I knew it! The way you were looking all doe-eyed at James when we were back in Minnesota and he couldn't stop staring at you, I figured something was going on!” Mouth open, she reaches out to lightly punch my shoulder. “You lucky bitch! Why didn’t you say anything before? If I didn’t feel like such a cougar around that man, I would’ve shimmied my way up that gorgeous body like a monkey! I mean, those pecs and arms, and that jaw. I’ll bet he can fuck like a real man because, I mean, he’s the real deal—a homegrown hunk of meat. We are talking James, right?” “What is it with you people thinking I’ve become the town whore? Yes, James, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your indecent thoughts to yourself, considering he may be the father of my unborn child.” “Holy shit! How perfect is that? Best friends becoming sisters-in-law? That would officially make you part of my family!” Her little hands clap together in a flurry as she jumps up and down like a small child in need of a lavatory. “Oh my god, you love him! You guys are in love!” Reaching out, I snatch her by her arms and force her to stop. “Quit your bloody blabbering! I hate to burst your delusional bubble, but there have not been any declarations of love and most certainly there’s no mention of marriage vows being exchanged. You’re at sixes and sevens.” “Throw British insults at me all you want, but I have a knack for predicting this kind of thing,” she answers with a smug smile. “Charlie thought I was crazy when I told him he’d be marrying Evelyn one day, and look where that got him. You haven’t taken that test yet because you know I’m right. You know James is your future and for some reason it scares the shit out of you. Believe me, I’ve been there. I did the out-of-this-world hot guy who had me screaming for mercy. You think having a baby at twenty-five sounds scary? You should try having one at fifteen, then find out the dad is a total loser after you’re knocked up with number two. All before you’ve even graduated high school.” Resting her hands on my shoulders, she takes on the kind of stern look I haven’t received since the time I smuggled my pet ferret in my bra to primary school. “From what Ev tells me, James isn’t the type to let anyone he cares about suffer. You could have a hangnail and he’d be at your side with a clippers. While I may not

know you well enough yet to understand what it is specifically about the possibility of being a parent that scares you, I’m living proof that you can successfully raise a child without having any clue what you’re doing. We’re all capable of mistakes and poor decisions, Shar. It’s called life. If you had zero regrets and nothing to be afraid of, then you're not really living. With or without James, you’re strong enough to do this. So march that perky little ass of yours into the bathroom and take that test before I find a way to make you.” “Hold up, I’m trying to decide if you missed your calling as a psychotherapist or a drill instructor.” Shaking her head, Katie points at the bathroom, lips pressed together. I merely nod and retreat with her hot on my trail. When I reach for the kit on the counter, she snatches it first, skimming through the directions and mumbling to herself. She snags a packet from the box and hands it to me. “Just pee on it. You picked a great test—we’ll know in five minutes max if there’s reason for alarm. I’ll be back in a minute.” She leaves the room as I pull my knickers down and squat over the loo. By the time I’ve placed the stick on the sink counter and perched on the tub across the way to watch intently, Katie’s back with an open bottle of white wine. “Not until I know,” I insist, holding a hand out to stop her from getting any closer. “It’s not for you.” She takes a long guzzle before sitting at my side. From the corner of my eye, I can see she’s staring the test down as well. “It feels like an eternity when you’re waiting for these dumb things to lay out the rest of your future with one little line. At least if one of us has a good buzz going, it’ll liven things up.” Laughing, I say, “Might I ask at what point you knew it wouldn’t work between you and the boys’ father?” “It was lots of little things that just kind of added up over time. We were just kids ourselves and had no business playing house. He was always more interested in getting drunk with his buddies. I probably would’ve been out drinking with him if I didn’t have the baby. And he was more worried about getting tickets for the hottest concert than figuring out how we were going to pay for diapers after I moved out of my parents’ house. One time Charlie got into it with him because Jason spent all our grocery money for the month on beer, and I had to sneak mac and cheese from Mom and Dad’s house. Money was a constant issue with us, and it never really worried Jason unless it somehow interfered with partying. I guess it finally hit home when I found out Jason slept with his ex while I was still in the hospital after giving birth to Allen.” I glance over at her. “That wanker!” “That’s accurate,” she agrees without looking away from the test. “I was embarrassed that it took me that long to see him for what he really was.” “This may be a bit bold of me to ask, but how do you trust another man after something that devastating?”

“I haven’t officially dated since I kicked Jason out of the house. I’ve just messed around whenever I have a craving, like with Dante at his place. I figure it’s not worth having a revolving door of random men and getting the boys involved in the kind of drama that comes with relationships. Instead I put all my focus on them while getting myself through college. They’ll be out of school before long and I’ll have time to pursue the kind of partner that doesn’t require batteries. But when that day comes, I’ll trust anyone who can prove themselves worthy because they won't be Jason. It’s both a blessing and a curse that all men aren’t the same. When you find one of the good ones, you need do everything in your power to hold on to them.” Of course her inspirational speech has me thinking of James straightaway and how he could be one of the proverbial “good ones” she mentioned. I recognize he’s an anomaly of sorts, having more of an interest in his loved ones than his own well-being, but what would it cost them if I were to selfishly pull him away from the Midwest because we had a child together? What if looking out for James’s best interests means letting go of him to ensure he’s where he belongs? Worse yet, what if he were only to return out of some obligation to the baby? When James took off, he didn’t even try to pretend that he'd be coming back for me, proving how easy it would be to lose him. And I’m the product of parents who don’t believe much in the sanctity of marriage and sticking it out for the better good of the team. Who’s to say I’m any different? I’m torn away from my brutal thoughts with the sound of Katie calling my name. When I look at her, she tilts her head toward the test. Two bloody little lines stare back at me.

CHAPTER 14

SHARLO

he next morning as I’m attempting to enjoy a cuppa tea in my pajamas T without feeling sorry for myself or wondering what in the hell to do next, my front

door swings open and Katie enters in a blur of dreadfully bright colors and patterns. “Oh good, you’re up!” she sings brightly as she places an arm-load of recycled shopping bags on the counter top in front of me. “I mean why wouldn’t you be? It’s nearly noon. By the way, your door was wide open. I thought you were going to start locking it after that psycho woman attacked you and Ev.” “Apparently I was expecting a delivery from the grocer,” I answer sarcastically, running a hand through my mussed hair. “Although I must say I prefer the usual delivery boy. A little pubescent, perhaps, but at least he doesn’t wear patterns that send me on a psychedelic trip so early in the day.” “Glad to see you still have your wits about you. I was worried after last night’s bombshell you’d be in a shitty mood.” She begins pulling items from the bags and setting them in a pile beside the fridge. Carrots, apples, lettuce, celery…the crop of vegetation is never-ending. “Are we planning to entertain farm animals?” I ask. “You need to start eating healthy. I got you in with Dr. Jo-Lynn, the best ob-gyn in Manhattan. This woman isn’t easy to see, especially on such short notice. It took a little name-dropping, but I got you an appointment for today at five. By the way, if the receptionist gets all giddy and weird, it’s because you’re Charlie’s other sister. She might ask you some questions about him and want your picture. Sometimes the weird ones will ask for a lock of hair. Just go with it.” “I’m perfectly capable of scheduling my own appointments.” “It’s important that you get on prenatal vitamins as soon as possible,” she continues before I’ve finished my sentence. “You need to boost your folic acid levels to prevent birth defects. And you’ll have to start drinking a ton of water until you feel like your eyes are floating.” She throws all hundred-and-ten pounds of herself into opening my refrigerator doors. Next thing I know, she’s rifling through the shelves, removing bottles of wine, a half-used carton of guacamole, and apparently anything else she deems as “junk.” “You’re going to want to start walking or running every day because I’m telling

you, those extra pounds start packing on sooner than you think. One day you’ll be using rubber-bands to stay in your favorite pair of jeans as long as possible and the next you’re shopping for shirts that don’t make you literally look like a watermelon.” “Perhaps you should’ve started by wearing something a bit more subtle,” I tease, tugging on the back of her bright orange shirt once she returns to my side. “It’s sweet of you to purge my kitchen of everything that makes life worth living, but I haven’t been given much of a chance to let the situation sink all the way in despite only sleeping a few hours.” Setting my cup on the counter, I rub my weary face with both hands. “I was afraid if I closed my eyes I’d be plagued with nightmares of screaming toddlers with sticky fingers yanking on my hair.” Clicking her tongue, Katie sets a hand on her hip. “Children aren’t all bad. I mean, sure, in the beginning you worry about dropping a newborn when you’re operating on two hours of sleep at a time, and you have to deal with blowouts involving that nasty yellow poop that smells worse than dog shit, but the first time they smile, or crawl, or say ‘mama’ it’ll all be worth it. I promise. Even if they do grow up to be spoiled, ungrateful teenagers who only talk to you when they need money for gas.” “You do make it sound so delightful.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Have you told James yet?” “I haven’t told a soul, and I ask that you don’t either. I’m plan to handle this in my own way, at a time I deem fit.” “Fine by me, but heads up, you only have nine months to do it,” she reminds me with a shrug. Truth be told, I haven’t a clue when I plan on telling him. I meant it when I told Nolan that James already has too many responsibilities and this would only drag him down. If he wanted to be with me, he would’ve found a way to make it happen by now. I certainly have no intentions of forcing him into it by bringing a helpless human into the equation. “What’s this?” Katie asks, grabbing a small pile of letters beside the toaster oven. “Junk mail,” I say, leaning across the counter to swipe them away before she gets a proper look. After returning from the week I spent with James, more mysterious handwritten letters without a return address appeared amongst my mail, this time without postage. They’re all the same, really, blabbering on about how I’m spoiled and should share my wealth with the less unfortunate. I’ve been meaning to do something about them, I just haven’t a clue what. I suppose the letters and prank calls could be related, but they’re not harmful enough to warrant a call to the authorities. My laptop trills from the coffee table, causing me to jump out of my skin. Catching Katie’s look of concern, I laugh. “Right, Ev was planning to ring when they’ve arrived in Vegas,” I say, hopping off the stool onto my feet. Pointing at my

belly, I narrow my eyes at Katie. “Not a word of this. Do you understand?” Biting down on her lips, she nods, but I’m not entirely convinced. By the third ring, I’ve flipped the screen up and find my bestie smiling back at me, looking all too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the west coast time zone. “Morning, Shar!” “Hold on,” I say, pretending to scan my keyboard. “I’m looking for a button to dim your chipper mood.” “Didn’t you sleep last night, or what?” Her smile melts into a frown. “Are you still in your pjs?” Rolling my eyes, I flip my hair to one side of my head. “Not all of us get to prance about the countryside on holiday, rubbing naughty-bits with celebrities.” A mischievous smile sparks a light in her eye. “Speaking of, did you see the texts I sent last night?” “Battery must’ve died,” I lie with a shrug. No need to get her involved in my harassment woes when Nolan’s friend is already on it. Surprisingly, twenty-four hours without feeling the need to check my cell phone every thirty seconds has proven to be quite liberating. “Better charge it up because you’re not going to believe who I ran into last night. I swear, Charlie has the most random famous friends.” “Have you heard anything from the ranch?” I blurt, bracing myself for her answer. With a small roll of her brown eyes, she says, “You mean the farm? No one says ranch in Minnesota.” “Maybe not, but they do have particular names for their food and drink.” I try my best to swallow, but my nerves aren’t having it. “Is everyone alright?” Her freckled shoulders rise with a shrug. “I talked to Hunter this morning. I think he’s still reeling from the things that came out yesterday at Uncle Orin’s hearing.” Even through the computer screen I can see worry fill her expression as her chest rises with a deep sigh. “None of us want to accept that Dad’s own brother might’ve killed him.” “What?” I ask amongst a sharp breath. Her eyebrows furrow. “James didn’t tell you?” When I slowly shake my head, she explains, “They arrested our uncle. The FBI says he was the one lying to that government program to make more money, and they think our dad wasn’t having it. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me James didn’t tell you since he’s not dealing with the news very well. Hunter said he spends all his spare time fighting at the shed or getting shit-faced at the bar.” Closing my eyes, I fight back a sudden wave of tears. This would explain why James seemed so distraught when he left. And he asked me to come home with him because he needed me. But I refused. “Shar, I thought you said you guys hung out while he was there. What happened?” “We spent quite a bit of time together,” I confirm, opening my eyes to face her once more. “It was lovely, but in the end we knew with the distance involved, it

wouldn’t work.” “Are you okay?” Stomach surging with the sympathetic look she’s projecting, I bite down on my lower lip. I certainly don’t want to lie to her, but I’m afraid once I begin to peel back the first layer of my emotions, the rest will become exposed, and I’ll become a mere puddle on the couch. “Hey, Ev!” Katie interrupts, plopping herself onto the couch at my side. “Hey, Katie! I didn’t know you were there!” “I just stopped in to discuss something Shar created,” she answers smartly. As Evelyn tells Katie of her run-in the night before with an actress I’ve never heard of, I stumble away, allowing my tears to spill. James’s life is literally spiraling out of control. If he were to discover I’m pregnant, it would only add to the nightmares of his reality.

L ater in the night, I’m startled by a loud disturbance somewhere in the not-so-far distance. Glancing at the glowing clock on my nightstand, I confirm what I had already guessed from watching the sky grow dark outside my bedroom window when I couldn’t sleep. It’s bloody late. Once again there’s another loud scuffle-type noise. Immediately, my torturous mind goes to places I’d rather forget and all at once I’m plagued with the memory of a blonde nutter holding a gun to my head. I grab the portable phone I had brought in from the kitchen before going to bed, suddenly grateful Nolan had insisted after Evelyn’s kidnapping that I procure a landline for emergencies. After dialing 9-1-1, my shaking thumb hovers above send. Maybe my imagination is simply going wild now that there’s more at stake than my own well-being. I rub my hand over my abdomen, wondering what it would be like if James gave up everything else in his life to be with me. Wondering what it would be like if we had a family together. Breath held, I wait for more noises, but all’s quiet. Deleting the emergency numbers, I dial Nolan instead. “Shar? What time is it?” he asks in a groggy voice. “Apparently time to buy diapers.” “Really?” All at once he sounds alert when he asks, “How do you feel about it?” “The same as when you saw me last. Dreadfully conflicted.” “I take it you’re calling because you can’t sleep. Want me to come over?” “No, I’m fine,” I answer with a reluctant sigh. “Just…I thought I heard something. But I hear a lot of somethings that aren’t there ever since that reporter broke in.” “I’m coming over.” “No need to come all this way, luv. I’m sure it’s merely my maternal instincts trying to activate.”

“I’m not in Manhattan—I crashed for the night on the bar’s couch. Stay on the phone until I get there.” A third bang is followed by the unmistakeable sound of shattering glass. With my heart leaping clear up into my throat, I drop the phone with my hand held over my mouth, holding back a scream. Someone’s inside. “Shar?” Nolan’s voice is muted against my blankets. “Shar!” After several deep breaths to slow my racing heart, I bring the phone back up to my ear. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sure there’s no need to panic, but I definitely heard some disturbance downstairs.” “Add a line on your phone and dial nine-one-one.” “But—” “Now, Shar!” Though all is quiet down below, my fingers are trembling when I push the buttons.

“So no enemies that you can think of?” the uniformed officer asks once more,

pushing at the brick with a pen. He’s a muscular man with large arms, nearly bursting from his button-down. The sight of his brawny figure has me longing for James, even though the officer is Puerto Rican, and they look absolutely nothing alike. “Anyone who’d want to hurt you or give you a little scare?” He tilts his head to the side, glancing at Nolan. “Ex boyfriend, maybe?” Nolan looks at me with raised eyebrows, lips pursed. From the moment he arrived, a good ten minutes before the squad car, he’s been irritated all because I wouldn’t let him hold me like a frightened child. “Richard’s daft but he has no reason to be angry,” I answer, twirling my fingers around the strings of the hoodie covering my pajamas. “We broke up over a year ago and we’ve been civil ever since. Besides, this is his building. He’s responsible for any damage.” I gesture to the open door where the man’s partner writes on a tablet, blue and red lights flickering across his face. “Are the lights necessary? I believe we can assume the brick won’t be any sort of threat.” “She’s been getting prank calls,” Nolan blurts at my side. “A friend of mine tried to trace the number, but whoever was making them must’ve been using a burner phone. Some prick is trying like hell to get her attention.” With chills running up and down my spine, I stare at the evidence lying amongst a pile of broken glass. The words “spoiled brat” were written on paper in black marker and taped to the brick before it was tossed through the window. The message reminds me of the letters. “There’s more,” I confess, cringing as I close my eyes. “What?” As expected, Nolan’s tone would suggest he’s relatively upset. I open one eye to look at the officer. “I’ve been receiving anonymous letters as well. You’ll find them on the counter-top, next to the toaster oven.”

Adjusting his hat, the officer glances between me and Nolan before heading for the kitchen. Nolan steps in my personal space, brows furrowed, and reaches for my arms. “Oh no you don’t,” I say, taking a step back. “This is precisely why I didn’t say anything before. I can’t have you looking at me like that. Until tonight, I had everything under control. It’s not necessary for you to worry. No one was actually harmed.” Though his frown softens considerably, his nostrils flare. “Go pack a bag. You’re not staying here by yourself.” “Don’t cavemen normally pound their chests before they tell a woman their place?” I reply, gently pushing him back. “He’s right,” the officer says, joining us with the stack of letters in one gloved hand. “It’s probably best if you don’t stay here by yourself. Whoever’s trying to scare you is still out there. We’ll take these letters and the brick back to the station and check for fingerprints.” He tips his chin at Nolan before handing him a business card. “We’re going to need her cell phone back from your friend. You can bring it to the station first thing in the morning.” Taking the card, Nolan nods. “Sorry to drag you out here in the middle of the night,” I tell the officer as he hands me a card as well. “For nothing more than a brick, besides.” “You should take this seriously,” he answers. “Someone has it out for you. Stay alert and aware of your surroundings at all times. Try not to go anywhere alone.” Touching the brim of his hat, he releases a dimpled grin. “Call me if you need anything. We’ll be in touch.” “You can reach her at the number I gave you with my statement,” Nolan tells him. “She’s going home with me.” When Nolan turns to give me a smug look, I open my mouth to tell him the caveman act is definitely becoming a thing of annoyance, but he’s right. The idea that there’s someone out there who possibly means to do me harm makes my stomach flip over itself. I can’t take any risks. I have an obligation to protect this baby.

CHAPTER 15

JAMES

like hell that I could say the two months since I left Sharlo have gone by I wish in a blur, but every goddamned day has been slower than the last, dragging out

endlessly despite burying myself in field work. And the fact that she only sent a few short texts since I returned stings like a motherfucker. The last time I tried calling, I received a message that her number was no longer in service. As tempting as it is to ask Evelyn what she knows, Sharlo would never forgive me for dragging my sister into our mess. But Christ, not knowing what’s going on is really starting to piss me off. Am I going to be a dad or not? Nothing has been able to take the edge off the constant burn in my chest that started up the minute I boarded the airplane in New York. Worse yet, they’ve started Uncle Orin’s hearings, and Hunter says he’s looking pretty damn guilty. When sparring guys in Cupp’s shed wasn’t proving to be enough to forget my fucked-up feelings, I tried drinking myself senseless before deciding the brutal hangovers while operating tractor weren’t worth it. What I really need is Sharlo. After parking the planter away for the year in our shed, I stop by to see Asher at the bar. I’ll do anything to avoid the farm. Every goddamned time I step foot inside, I’m reminded of the night I found Dad. There’s nothing waiting for me there anyway. And with every day that passes, it becomes clear I don’t want to spend the rest of my life working on the farm. Roadrunners is packed, even by Saturday night standards, as the dark storm that was brewing all day finally lets loose. It was bound to happen once the crop was in the ground simply because I’ve been thinking about flying back out to New York. Now I may have to stick around to replant if we get the forecasted flood. Once inside the bar, I shake the excess water off my head and take one of two open stools between a few of the local drunks. “You look like a wet dog, JD,” Asher teases from behind the bar. “Maybe one of these days you should invest in a razor.” Fingering the thick growth on my chin, I shrug. I gave up caring how I look once I became knee-deep into farming. Ivy told me the other day that it made me look “Hollywoodian”—whatever the fuck that means. Since I have no desire to speak to

that woman ever again, I didn’t bother asking. At least she finally seemed to get the hint that I’m not interested. Last time I saw her, she shot me a dirty look before moving to the other side of the bar to hit on some younger guys from out of town. “It’s called a beard,” I snarl as Asher hands me a glass of pop. “Maybe someday you’ll hit puberty and be able to grow one.” Asher sticks a hand in his dark hair and laughs. “I figured you’d be a moody fucker with all this rain. Guess the trip to see your girl is postponed?” I don’t share emotions and feelings with my buddies, but Asher figured it out on his own in the last few weeks and encouraged me to return to her as soon as possible. Knowing I probably won’t get the chance to see her for another week or two has my stomach permanently clenched. Hunter’s sliding onto the stool beside me before I can answer. He clocked out earlier in the afternoon, so it’s no surprise he’s already half pissed-up. “Didn’t figure I’d see you up here, JD. Run out of shit to put away?” “Someone’s gotta do it,” I mutter, peering into my amber drink. “Actually no one has to do it this early in the season, especially when we might be dragging everything back out in a few days.” He claps me on the back. “I get it, bro. We’re all on edge with Uncle Orin’s trial coming up. I just don’t think you should be around when it starts.” Hearing Hunter mention the trial has me grinding my teeth together. The attorney prosecuting our uncle seems to think she has a pretty solid case against him that includes a full fingerprint in my parents’ bedroom and his lack of a solid alibi. While that fuckery has been going on we’ve been meeting with Dad’s attorney to see what can be done about the farming business. Uncle Orin and Dad split the cost of the machinery down the middle. A majority of the land was in Dad’s name and was willed in equal parts to me and my siblings. If they’re able to convict our uncle, the attorney thinks we’ll be able to operate this fall without any hiccups. “You should go back to Evelyn’s until the rest of the family gets there,” Hunter suggests. “Levi’s around to help now and Braden will be home soon on leave. The three of us can manage whatever needs to be done.” Our cousin Levi grew up helping on the farm, and we were always tight. He was a wreck when he first heard his dad was arrested and left his corporate job in Minneapolis to hang with us, volunteering to do whatever needs to be done to keep the family business going. But Hunter and I have yet to negotiate the cost of renting our siblings’ shares of land to farm, so I suggested we should invite them all back for a 4th of July barbecue. When I mentioned it to Evelyn, she volunteered to have everyone up to their place in the Hamptons. Hunter agreed it’d be a good change of scenery and a way to get our minds off Dad and Uncle Orin. Selfishly, I was up for anything that involved getting closer to Sharlo. “I agree, JD, you should get out of town,” Asher chimes in. One of his shiteating-grins crosses his lips. I wait for him to rat me out in front of Hunter and mention Sharlo, but instead he says, “You could reschedule the fight with that

douche from the gym.” I look down as my fingers grip the glass of pop. The opportunity to finally put that prick Freddie in his place gets my blood pumping almost as hard as the thought of seeing Sharlo. “I’ll stick around to see what this rain does,” I tell Hunter. “Forget about the damn rain,” he insists, shaking his head. “Whatever acres might get flooded out I can re-plant by myself. Ash, here, can help me with seed bags. It’ll help him get those flabby arms back into shape.” Asher plops his elbow on the bar in front of Hunter and offers his hand, ready to prove why he’s the arm-wrestling champ in the area. “Wanna see just how ‘flabby’ they are?” As they’re bantering over who’s stronger, I’m already on my phone, checking for flights to New York. I’m coming back for you, little butterfly.

L ess than 48 hours later, I’m on Evelyn and Charlie's front step, scratching my

cleanly shaven jaw. Being in their neighborhood has already lifted some of the stress off my shoulders and I’m not surprised when I’m filled with the sensation of returning home. A part of me has started to wonder if I could make Brooklyn my home. It’s hard to separate what I want out of my future versus who I want to spend it with. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, though, and my gut tells me I wasn’t meant to stay on the farm the rest of my life. The door flings open before I’ve had a chance to ring the bell. “James!” my sister cries, throwing her little body into my arms. “I’m so glad you’re here!” It's a little over the top compared to how we’ve greeted each other in the past, but whatever. I'm so damn excited to be back that I find myself smiling when I lift her in my arms. “Me too,” I say into her hair. She drags me inside, beaming brightly. Her over-the-top excitement reminds me of how she was as a child, minus the usual pigtails or braids that Hunter and Braden were always pulling. Maybe Charlie really was the best thing that ever happened to her, like she keeps claiming. Like Sharlo is to me. “Did you have supper on the plane?” she asks. “I’m good,” I answer, setting my bag by the door. Food is the very last thing on my mind. “Supper,” Charlie repeats under his breath, chuckling. “Gets me every time.” He crosses the kitchen to shake my hand and give me a solid clap on the arm. Barefoot in a plain gray T-shirt and long basketball shorts, it’s hard to imagine the same guy performing in front of thousands of screaming fans. For being famous, he always does a good job at staying humble. And as much as his hair has grown out since the wedding, he’d seem better pegged as a surfer. “Good to see you, brother.

The maid said this place was so clean after you left that she wondered if anyone had actually been here. Hope it worked out for you.” “Didn't spend much time outside of the gym,” I say. Or outside of the bedroom. “So I hear.” Before I can catch his expression to see if that was meant sarcastically, he retreats to the refrigerator and pulls out three bottles of beer, popping the tops on an opener mounted underneath the counter. “Manny was pumped when I told him you were coming back. He said to stop in tomorrow and he’ll reschedule that match.” He hands a beer to Evelyn, then one to me before wrapping his free arm around my sister. “The Yanks are playing the Mariners if you want to sit back and chill for the night, order carry-out.” I look over at my sister, hoping to gauge her reaction to what I’m about to say. “I was thinking I’d go see Sharlo.” Something like guilt flickers in her expression as she takes a swig of her beer. “Does she know you're back?” “Not unless you said something.” “You should probably text her before you go anywhere.” From her stiff smile, there’s obviously something going on that she doesn’t want to tell me about. “You know, to make sure she’s home and up for company.” “‘Up for company’?” I repeat, scowling. What the fuck does that mean? My sister leaves her husband’s side to clamp her free hand around one of my arms. “Shar told me you were kind of seeing each other when you were here. But that was months ago, JD. Things have changed. She’s been going through…some shit.” I clench my teeth at the thought of her going through something bad without me. Or because of me. “Is she alright?” Evelyn shakes her head. “Sorry, I can’t say anything more. She should be the one to tell you.” Veins on fire, I flex my free fist at my side. “She’s seeing someone else?” I ask. If she’s moved on, it would explain why she didn’t stay in touch after I left. Even though I took off without a promise to return and we never said one damn word about being exclusive or whatever chicks need to hear to know they're taken, I thought the week we spent together would’ve meant something to her. “You have to talk to her,” Evelyn insists in a small voice. Fuck this shit. If it was that easy for Sharlo to get over what we had, there’s no point in going after something that must’ve never been there to begin with. I scoop my bag off the floor and sling it over my shoulder. “Guest room mine?” Evelyn appears to be on the verge of crying when she nods. I head up the stairs with only one thought: Manny better be able to schedule that match right away. I’m going to need to blow off a helluva lot of steam.

R unning the familiar path through the peaceful streets before the sun is up does

wonders to clear my head. So does spending the entire next day with Manny, putting all the bullshit into my fists. Though the old-timer is happy to see me, he seems confused when I push him to re-schedule the match as soon as humanly possible. Despite his reluctance to have me in the ring so soon after my hiatus, I assure him I was putting time in at the ring back home. Thankfully, he gets Freddie to agree to come in the next night. The next twenty-four hours that follow, I throw myself into the most intense training of my life, feeding off the darkness twisting through my head. Feeding the monster that’s more than ready to fight and prove that my life is about more than a hot piece of ass, no matter how sweet she may be. The night of the fight, Evelyn and Charlie arrive to the gym before there’s any sign of Freddie or his idiot sidekicks. I watch from the doorway of the locker room as Charlie signs some autographs before they take a seat on folding chairs in the front row. My stomach dips and bends when Evelyn saves two seats beside her, but before long, Charlie’s bodyguard and manager show up to claim them. I’m able to breathe easy again knowing Sharlo won’t be sitting front and center. The place becomes irritatingly loud as spectators pack in until there’s nowhere to even stand. Whatever reputation Freddie has built up must be pretty fucking big to draw this many people for an amateur fight. And I swear I see money exchange hands between a few guys. The hype will make it even more exciting when I knock him on his ass. Minutes before the fight is to begin, Ty, one of the local guys I sparred with a time or two steps into the ring with a microphone in hand. “Who’s ready to get this party started?” he shouts over a sudden blast of hip hop music. The crowd erupts in applause and whistles. As he holds my arm into the air and introduces me to the crowd before rattling off the rules for an amateur fight, I catch sight of a blonde near the back, wrapped in the arms of someone much taller. When Sharlo’s ocean blue eyes find me, my breaths become tight and I’m unable to look away from her beautiful face. A bout of need, raw and searing, rips through my gut. Everything comes to me in total clarity. I never should’ve gone home without promising that I’d be back for her, giving her something to hold onto. She was always so much more than a good lay, even the first time in the motel when I let myself go and fucked her like a psycho. She understands my conflicted thoughts like no one else and makes me believe the good in life can outweigh the bad. Finally able to breathe normal again, I offer a small smile. She visibly winces and presses her lips together. The hands around her move up to her shoulders and I allow myself to look up to the man’s face. Nolan stares back at me with an expression of indifference. Heat of a different kind scorches my veins. I was actually starting to like the rich prick, and Sharlo swore they were only friends. Maybe that fucker had different intentions all along. I picture myself tearing through the crowd and knocking him to the ground, laying my claim on Sharlo. No way I’m backing down. She’s mine. I’m torn from my thoughts with the ring of a bell. Then Ty is motioning for me

to meet Freddie in the center, so I look away. Freddie’s immediately in my face, giving me a lethal smile as he bounces on his feet. “What’s the matter, pansy-ass motherfucker? Your hot little piece of British ass finally run off with a real man?” The first blow to his face feels so fucking fantastic that I follow it up with a left hook to his gut. The crowd cheers as Freddie stumbles backward, trying like hell to stay upright and create a safe distance between us. I work my way back across the ring toward him, pleased to see a look of fear cross his eyes. He recovers with a few good shots before I deliver a straight right that catches him in the eye and makes my shoulder burn like a motherfucker. The bell sounds, and I retreat to my corner, never losing sight of Freddie’s murderous glare. “That was a solid first round,” Manny tells me, wiping at my forehead with a towel. “Keep throwing those fast jabs. He doesn't have the stamina to keep up with them. Keep moving around him, finding new angles. You’ve got this, JD.” I suck down a mouthful of water before jumping to my feet for the next round. Freddie looks ready for blood as he comes at me, lips pulled back with a sneer and nostrils flaring. I immediately catch him with an uppercut, and he responds with a whacking body shot that only temporary throws me off-center. The lick of pain that comes with it only fuels my building rage. Nothing can stop me from putting this fucker in his place. When I move around him, he misses a left, giving me the perfect angle to catch him with an inside uppercut. Blood flies from his mouth as he falls to the ground, but it doesn’t take him long to get back on his feet and come at me again. His lips spread so wide with a sneer that I can see every last inch of his mouth guard. “Maybe Sharlo will let me have a taste of those sweet tits,” he taunts. “She looks like she could use a good fucking.” A bolt of adrenaline strikes me so hard that I almost stumble backward. “How the fuck do you know her name?” With a wink, he lifts his chin. “I know a lot about your girl.” I’m in a haze of anger when he cracks me with a strong left to the jaw. I wobble on my feet as my eyes skim across the crowd. As I’m recovering my footing, I catch Sharlo’s gaze, impossibly wide with fear and both hands held over her mouth. A bell announces the end of the round, but I continue to go after Freddie, determined not to look weak in front of my girl. We’re pulled apart among the frantic bell and shouts from the crowd. “What was that, son?” Manny scolds when I sit. “He’s making this shit personal,” I bite out with a growl. “He found your weakness. Lock that shit down and keep it clean. I didn’t spend all those hours trainin’ you to watch you get ejected.” “Yes, sir,” I answer. No way in hell I’m getting ejected from anything before I give that asshole the beating he deserves. When I’m back on my feet for the next round, Freddie goes out of his way to keep a gaping distance between us. I come after him with a hard left, clipping him

in the gut, and surprising him with a follow-up right uppercut to the face. He falls to the mat with a thud, warranting a roar of excitement from the crowd. Ty is down at his side, counting, but it’s clear as Freddie struggles to catch his breath that he’s done for. I’m caught off guard by the cheers that follow. Nolan wasn’t exaggerating when he said there weren’t too many people in Freddie’s fan club. As Ty holds my hand up in the air and declares me the winner, I catch sight of Sharlo by herself, darting for the exit. Finding Nolan caught up in conversation with a group of guys, I spit out my mouth guard and start through the crowd toward Sharlo, yelling her name above the excited chatter from the crowd. My sister and Charlie intentionally step in the way as I’m pulling my gloves off. Charlie offers a fist. “Way to go, man! That guy didn’t stand a chance against you!” “Thanks,” I say, knocking my knuckles against his. I hand my gloves to Evelyn. “I gotta go talk to Sharlo.” “Wait a minute, JD.” Her eyes flicker downward to my gloves. “I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but since you’ve been hell-bent on avoiding her until now, you should know Sharlo and Nolan are serious.” When she looks back up at me, she sets her hand on my arm. “She moved in with him.” The ruckus around us becomes secondary to my pounding heartbeat. I shuffle backwards, shaking my head. The only word I can manage is, “No.”

CHAPTER 16

SHARLO

L

eaned over on the sidewalk, hands braced against my knees, I gulp in the brisk night air and desperately try to calm my racing heart. Nolan didn't think coming to watch James fight was a good idea, but I was insistent. Once I reminded him that I agreed without protest to move into his flat, and pretend we were together so Evelyn wouldn’t get word back to James of my stalker, he finally gave in on the condition that he accompany me. I can’t recall an instance in my lifetime as terrifying as watching James take hits toward the end, when I was worried he was going to lose the match. With the blow that almost took him down, it was as if my feelings for him were beat from my chest, forcing me to face what I’ve so desperately tried to deny in thinking I could do this alone. I need James every bit as much as this baby needs both its Mum and Dad. “Sharlo!” his deep voice calls out, sending tingles to my lady bits. Twirling around, I find James in the doorway with the most confusing of expressions upon his handsome face—eyes wide and lips in a tight line as his chest rises and falls with a slow, heavy breath. It’s almost as if he’s angry, relieved, and elated all at once. Can’t say I’m able to get a handle on what I’m feeling at the moment either, except that my pulse is racing faster than a squirrel on amphetamines. As my big, beautiful protector stalks close, reminding me of the old “bull in a china shop” adage, my lungs seize, forcing me to hold my breath. His swollen eye from the fight makes him appear both more charming and dangerous. When he first stepped out for the fight, I was lost in a cloud of desire. Now that he’s standing close enough that I can feel his warmth and smell the man who forever altered my world, I could very well soak my knickers on demand. I try desperately to swallow once he’s in front of me, but that’s clearly not happening anytime soon. “Hello, luv.” “Why didn’t you return my calls?” His words are clipped and impatient, coming out as more of a growl. Though I’ve prepared myself for this moment a million times, expecting the worst, my lips still quiver when I blurt, “I’m with Nolan now.”

His chocolaty gaze burns right through me, rendering me completely useless to fight. “You're lying.” “I’ve moved on,” I whisper, barely able to utter the lie. “Bullshit.” Incapable of resisting the need to touch him any longer, I rest both hands against his thick, sweaty chest. Why seeing the man after a good workout makes me feel like a tomcat in heat, I have no idea, but I’ve practically forgotten what we’re discussing when I say, “It’s better this way.” “You’re pregnant.” A massive arm wraps around me, dragging me up tight against his unrelenting muscles. I whimper with the familiar feeling of comfort his powerful hold is able to produce. “It’s the only reason I can think of why you've been avoiding me since I left.” Looking down at my hands that have taken on a mind of their own, I stroke his brawny muscles like he’s a house pet. “I didn't want to bother you. Your family needs you.” His hand frames my jaw, tilting my head upright. “I need you.” My God, I didn’t know how badly I wanted to hear those three words again. Temporarily unable to speak with the declaration, I drag my eyes back to meet his. They’re filled with an intensity that brings a nuisance of fat tears to my eyes. I’m desperate to give him a reason to stay, though I’m afraid the wrong words will make him angry. “And I want to be there for you. I really, truly do. It’s just with the distance between us—” “We’ll find a fuckin’ way to make it work,” he promises, seeming on the edge of an angry outburst. “No way in hell I’m letting you raise my child by yourself.” Again, the fear that he merely wants to be with me out of an obligation resurfaces. Before I’m able to say anything more, his warm lips are on mine, and he’s holding on to me with a fist anchored in my hair. The kiss is so deliciously hot that I’m suddenly forgetting why I resolved to push him away and agreed to this rubbish of pretending I’d survive without him. When his powerful lips consume me in sync with his probing tongue, I dig my nails into his back and hum dreamily, unable to believe we’re finally reunited. The scorching heat between my legs is unbearable. The kiss is eventually broken, leaving us both short of air. His hands move up to cradle my face as he looks me square in the eye. “I have to grab my bag. Don’t go anywhere. I’m not leaving here tonight without you.” “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” I admit with a resolved sigh. “I’ll have to speak to Nolan first.” His beautiful eyes narrow. “Fuck that guy. Unless you’re really with him, what do you care what he thinks?” “I swear to you, he’s never been anything more than a good mate. But—” “If you want to be with me, I don’t give a shit what Nolan or anyone else has to say.” As his thumbs stroke my cheeks in tandem, he shakes his head to and fro.

“Why does my sister think you’re with him?” Though I knew the question would come to light eventually, I hadn’t prepared myself with an answer that wouldn’t send James over the edge. “It’s complicated.” “Fill me in later.” He bends down to lightly brush his lips over mine in a sweet gesture that makes my heart ready to burst from my chest. “Stay. Here.” Pulling back, I smile and give in with a nod. There’s no question: I want to be with him tonight. That rare smile, more brilliant than Evelyn’s husband with a guitar in hand, makes an appearance before he runs back toward the gym’s entrance through a queue of people beginning to make their way out. From the gym’s door, Evelyn and Charlie make their appearance. Lips set in a tight line, she whispers something in her husband’s ear before starting toward me, alone. Her wounded expression doesn’t touch the immeasurable guilt building inside my chest. “Is everything okay?” she asks, rubbing a hand over my bare shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I told him you’re with Nolan now. I thought he deserved to know the truth.” I take a strand of her expertly curled hair and run it through my fingers, sighing. “One day soon you and I are going to have ourselves a chat about the necessity of lies as white as the snow and why I possess the mind of a juvenile. Tonight, however, I’m taking your brother to my flat to sort things out.” The corners of her mouth lift with a smirk. “There are so many things I could say right now, but I’m guessing it’s best if I bite my tongue.” “I’d suggest you bite it hard,” I agree, rolling my eyes. “But not so hard you bite it completely off. You’re going to want it later to deliver a proper lashing after I fill you in on my sordid mess.” She pulls me close for a quick hug. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. Just as long as you’re okay.” “I will be.” Or so I desperately hope. When James charges back out of the gym several minutes later, a smug look lit across his handsome face, Nolan’s a mere step behind. Based on my friend's unyielding scowl, it would seem they exchanged words of an unpleasant nature. I brace myself for what’s to follow when Nolan takes my arm. “Do we need to separate you two?” Evelyn asks in a motherly tone, glancing between the two men. “Can we talk?” Nolan asks me. His eyes dart over to James, who has nudged his sister out of the way to stand at my side, and he adds, “Alone?” “I will be back,” I promise James, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. Then I whisper, “No need to call the brigade. He’s harmless.” The way James’s hand lightly skims down the small of my back and across my bum as I step away, I’d venture to guess he’s reluctant to let me go. However he does score a point for allowing me time with Nolan when I know his protective nature wouldn’t normally have it. Nolan leads me far beyond a pack of smokers and turns to me with tangible

regret oozing from his pores. “I’m sorry, Shar. The guys from my gym were drilling me about James, and I didn’t see you leave. Are you okay?” “I wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m some delicate flower that has been pissed on by a mongrel. James has never hurt me, Nolan. At least not on purpose. He merely wishes to catch up on all the joyous fun he missed out on these past few weeks.” “You told him?” “There was no need. He already guessed that I’m pregnant.” Shaking his head, Nolan crosses his arms over his chest. “I meant did you tell him you’re living with me because someone is after you?” “Are you mad?” I half-whisper, looking over my shoulder to make sure neither James nor Evelyn are still anywhere near enough to hear. “You can’t simply tell someone like James that I’ve caught the attention of a nutter. The fact that I haven’t the faintest idea who’s responsible for this nonsense will completely send him over the edge of reason. Were you paying attention to what the man is capable of back there?” “What excuse are you going to give when you bring him back to my place? He deserves to know, Shar.” “I…ah…” Knowing he won’t be agreeable with my plan, I bite down on my lips and avert my gaze beyond his shoulder. “Don’t even think about it. You can’t go back to your place. Even the cops don’t think it’s safe until we find out who’s behind all this!” I meet his narrowed gaze and cross my arms over my stomach. He does have a point. “Alright then. I’ll take him to a hotel if that will make you happy. I certainly can’t have an audience for the kind of proper welcome I have planned.” The pinched expression on his face relaxes as he gives into my stubbornness. “I hope you know what you’re doing with this guy. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so…severe. If he ends up hurting you, I’ll be first in line to kick his ass.” His lips quirk with an almost-there smirk. “Even if he is a helluva fighter.” “He’d never dream of harming a single hair on my head and besides, I’m a big girl,” I say, tapping his nose with my forefinger. “And I’ll be an even bigger one before long.” Laughing, Nolan throws an arm around my shoulders as we start back for the others. The moment we’re within James’s radar, Nolan clears his throat and draws his arm back down to his side. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he whispers. “You’re more ‘delicate’ than you know.” I afford him a scolding glance before moving back to James’s side. When his fingers lock around mine, I slump against him and curse myself for being so pliable. It seems no matter how hard I fight, I’ll never be able to deny my heart what it wants.

n what feels like an eternity later, we’re holding hands as we check into the same posh hotel on the Upper East Side that Mum insists on occupying on the rare occasion she pops in for a visit. I’m normally not one to drop copious amounts of money on such frivolous things, but the second James believed the tale that my flat was being exterminated, I decided I would do everything in my power to make this little reunion and the celebration of his victory as brilliant as possible. Based solely on the connection vibrating between our bodies, however, we could’ve reunited on a rock in Central Park and still have made it memorable. We’re greeted with the lovely fragrance of several dozen white roses that fill a round table in the entryway of our suite. It’s necessary to pass through a high-end kitchen and sitting area with modern furniture to reach the bedroom. The square pillars surrounding the king-sized bed swathed in rich bedding as well as the steps leading up to it are certainly an added bonus, as if making a stage for our eventual lovemaking. After he’s showered, James stands at the wall of glass windows spanning across the bedroom. They provide an impressive view of the city that’s bright with a magical array of twinkling lights. Dad’s fortune already seems worth every hundred spent. Though I’ve come to fancy the quiet life in Brooklyn Heights over Manhattan, there’s something inherently romantic about seeing the charming city outdone by the charisma of my handsome protector wearing only a pair of gym shorts slung low on his hips. Watching him take in the view, I can’t stop myself from grinning like some kind of school girl. “I imagine it’s a much different world than what you’re used to,” I say. “There’s a lot of fucking people down there.” “That’s precisely why I chose not to live on this island of mayhem. I adore living close enough to get my fix of the excitement and culture you won’t find elsewhere in the States, yet far enough to keep my sanity.” He draws away from the window and takes a lingering look at the bedroom. “I don’t care what you said at check-in, I’m not letting you pay for this. Where I’m from, men take care of their women.” A delightful shiver runs through me with the sound of him calling me “his woman.” I start in his direction, shaking my head. “If you knew the obscene payments my dad was ordered to give my mum every month in spousal support, perhaps you’d better understand why there are no limits when you’re the sole heir to Teddy Rockford. It makes me a bit of a spoiled princess, I suppose, but he’s done so much for various charities over the years that it’s inspired me to save my eventual income from the fashion line for something meaningful. I have yet to find a cause that I can pour my heart into, but I’m confident there’s one out there. I’m hoping one day the right one will bite me in the arse.” There’s a hint of surprise in his big brown eyes when he pushes one hand into the deep pocket of his shorts. It makes him both adorable and sexy. “Ev never mentioned you were in it for charity.” “That’s because I haven’t told her or Katie. I don’t want them to think I’m any

I

less motivated to make our business a success. I’m every bit as excited about seeing our designs out in the world. Charlie has already convinced some of his friends to sport a few of our best creations in hopes they’ll get photographed and generate some hype. I have yet to decide if that makes me want to pop the top on a bottle of bubbly or hurl for days on end.” Setting my hands over my stomach, I laugh. “Guess I won’t have much of a choice in the matter. This wee one has already made it hard for me to keep anything down.” A tick ripples over his jaw when he glances down at my belly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Evelyn told me your uncle’s a suspect in your dad’s murder. You’ve been through so much already. You’re always protecting everyone else, James. I figured it was past time someone protected you.” His dark eyes narrow. “I wasn’t raised to run away from my responsibilities.” Pulling on his arm, I let him up the steps and direct him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Full disclosure, healthy relationships aren’t my forte. Neither is becoming a mum. Clubbing while downing half a bottle of Jack, that’s the type of task I’m fully capable of performing. I suppose it isn’t completely my fault considering I was raised by a woman who was more interested in getting high off narcotics than attending her daughter’s primary school concerts.” I lower down to straddle his lap, biting back a pleasurable moan when his arms wrap in a lover’s embrace and I’m brought closer to his broad chest. “You say you want to be in my life, then you must be made aware I’m far from perfect. I’ll do things that’ll make you second guess your decision, possibly even send you running.” “I have imperfections too. We can fight past them together. I’d fight to the death for you.” Suddenly his hand is on my belly. “I’m going to take care of you and our baby the way you both deserve.” Heart fluttering with his declaration, I lift my fingertips to brush across his wide lips. “In that case,” I pause to briefly replace my fingers with my lips, “I just happen to be in dire need of being taken care of in this very moment.” His expression hardens ever so slightly. “You still haven’t told me why you’re living with Nolan.” All at once pleased that he’s wearing gym shorts without the hassle of a zipper, I slip my hand inside and reach for his gloriously hard cock. “We’ll have all the time in the world for that later,” I whisper before claiming his lips.

CHAPTER 17

JAMES

he moment Sharlo takes hold of my dick, I fucking lose it and hoist her up T into my arms, bringing her back down to lay in the center of the hotel bed’s plush

comforter. Though her eyes widen, she giggles and quickly pulls her tank top off over her head with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. It never fails to amaze me how she’s so willing to give all of herself to me, despite my fucked-up mistakes. I run the pads of my thumbs underneath her see-through lace bra, loving it when her tits become rock-hard from my touch. With a devilish smirk, she tries to nudge me back. “Let me take care of you,” she begs, lightly touching her fingertips to my tender eye. “You’ve been through so much tonight.” “No. I neglected the one person I care about most. I should’ve been there when you found out about the baby. I want to make it up to you.” I lean down to press a gentle kiss on her lips. “Tonight’s all about you.” Releasing a soft sigh, she gives me a smile that makes my heart skip. After unhooking her bra and pulling it off her arms, I cup her beautiful breasts in my hands and take my time enjoying them, giving each perfect swell the attention it deserves with my mouth. Her fingers thread through my hair and yank hard enough for me to get the hint: she wants me. Now. My lips wander down to her soft belly and give it a tender kiss. It’s crazy to think our child’s somewhere inside. “Hi, little butterfly,” I whisper. Sharlo chokes out my name in a happy cry. Continuing to drag my lips across her vanilla scented skin, I move down her hot little body until I’ve reached the skin just above her short skirt. She makes a throaty noise when I dig my fingers into her hips and nip her flesh with my teeth. Now my name falling from her lips sounds like a desperate plea, so I hook her skirt with my fingers and pull it down, none too careful. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so many goddamn weeks that it physically pains me to not be buried inside of her already. She’s gasping as her warm little fingers meet mine to tug at her panties. Finally, I’m given the kind of fan-fucking-tastic view I’ve been dreaming about every night since I left. I waste no time in sticking my tongue inside her warm slit. She mewls like a

jungle cat, tugging my hair at the roots. As I continue to taste her sweetness, digging my fingers into her peachy ass, she grinds her hips against my face while cooing in approval. I suck and tug on her little bud with my teeth until she’s making carnal noises in her throat and shuddering against me. I’ve never heard anything as fucking hot as Sharlo coming apart because of something I’ve done. The need to take her vibrates through my core as I rise back up to study her pink cheeks and eyes glazed over with lust. It’s hard to tell if she’s coherent when she tugs at my shorts, licking her lips with the sight of my cock springing free. “It would seem I’ve missed some parts of you more than others,” she teases among a darkened gaze. Chuckling, I kiss my way back up the curve of her neck until I meet her lips. She claims my mouth with a stuttered breath, kissing me with renewed purpose. A flame of hope burns bright in my gut. She’s the only thing I’ve ever selfishly wanted. If we can find a way to make this work, to raise our child together and live as a family, I’ll die a ridiculously happy man. She slithers down beneath me, perfect aligning my pulsating dick with her opening, and guides my hips until I’m sliding inside, hissing through my teeth with the glorious feel of her surrounding me. I take my time stroking in and out, twisting my hips and savoring the blissful look that comes over her feminine features as she moans my name. Heart bursting with joy, I lean down to ravage her lips once more before muttering, “I’ll never let you go again, little butterfly.” A swell of ecstasy erupts at the base of my spine with the feel of her sweet little pussy clenching around me, squeezing my cock for all it’s worth. When I move to pull out of her, she clamps down on my shoulders and meets my gaze. “Damage has already been done,” she teases with a twinkle in her eye. Once I’ve finished erupting inside of her, I collapse against the mattress. Snuggling into my chest, she says, “That was lovely, but if it’s alright with you, I’d rather reprieve that long of a break in the future.” I wrap her in my arms, groaning when the feel of her skin on my cock makes it harden again. Ignoring it, I bury my face in her hair and inhale her scent as well as her essence. How did I have the strength to leave her? “You have no idea what you do to me,” I say, blowing out a long breath. “Something favorable, I hope.” I can hear the humor in her tone, but the way she tilts her head back to look me in the eye, it’s easy to see the doubt lingering behind her beautiful blue eyes. “I’m staying for good this time. I’m not going back.” She props herself on an elbow, her expression lit with hope. “What about the farm?” “They’ll have to find someone to take my place. My cousin seemed interested in coming back. Maybe he’ll take over. And Nolan said there’s good money in MMA fighting. I have enough in savings to live off until he sets me up for some real fights.”

Fighting against a bright smile, she rests her hand on my chest. “You need to properly think this through. I don’t imagine a family business is something you can so easily step away from.” “I have thought it through. Every day since I left you. Farming was never my thing. I only stuck around after high school because someone needed to keep an eye on our dad.” I lift my hand to stroke the back of her head with my fingers. “Now that he’s gone, the things that are important to me have changed. My siblings are old enough to make their own mistakes without me there to clean up after them. Being a good dad is my number one priority now.” “I’m worried your expectations are set far too high.” She lets her head drop against my chest and breaths out a quiet little sigh. “I haven’t the slightest idea how to be a proper mum. There are days when I think it would be best to give the little nugget away so it has a fair chance.” My fingers clamp into her skin harder than I intend. No fucking way I’m letting her give my child up for adoption. “We’ll learn the parenting thing together.” I loosen my grip on her and bury my face inside her hair. “I promise you won’t have to do this on your own.” Rather than saying anything in return, her fingers trail over the edges of my chest, back and forth, until she’s breathing steadily in my arms. As I stare at the ceiling, I find myself amazed at how fucking happy she has made me. For the first time in what feels like forever, my heart has made room to love someone other than the family I grew up with.

Sunlight fills the room when I wake to an empty bed and the sounds of loud

gagging. I stumble across to the massive bathroom and find a naked Sharlo bent over the toilet. When she catches me watching her from the doorway, she lets out a surprised squeak before slapping a hand over her heart. Guilt for making her jump washes over me like a tidal wave. “You scared the shit out of me!” she gasps from behind a curtain of hair. “Look away. You mustn’t see me like this. I’m hideous.” “You’ll always be beautiful to me, little butterfly.” I cross the room and lower to the tiled floor at her side. Taking her silky blond hair in one hand, I press my lips against her clammy neck. “Sorry I scared you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “I’m fine, I promise. Just a bit nauseated. Can’t decide which is worse—these sickening spells or times when dinner makes a repeat performance.” “Why are you so jumpy?” She makes a choking-laugh noise before shaking her head. I help her back on her feet and wrap her in my arms. When she slumps against me, her shoulders begin to tremble. “What’s going on?” I demand, kissing the top of her head. “Tell me, baby.”

“Bloody hormones have made me a diabolical mess,” she mutters, pulling back to meet my stare. Her hands raise to either side of my jaw. “Before I say one word, you must promise me that you’ll stay calm.” “Sharlo,” I warn with an impatient growl. Dropping her hands to my arms around her, she pulls in a stuttered breath. “I’ve been living with Nolan because it would seem I’ve caught the attention of a nutter.” Acid rises in my chest, making it harder than a motherfucker to swallow. “What?” “It’s all under control. It was nothing more than prank calls and a few letters that made about as much sense as Ozzy Osbourne delivering a commencement speech. Nolan thought it was best if I stay with him for a time to see if it would stop, and it has. I’m simply a bit over-sensitive because of the baby.” “What did the letters say?” I bite out. “Nothing to get all worked up over, sweetheart. Someone with a knack for jealousy and foul language, hardly worth your time. Some detectives took the notes as evidence.” “The police were involved?” “They came to investigate a broken window. The important thing is that I was never physically harmed. It merely left me angry I wasn’t able to take the edge off with a shot of something strong.” I grind my teeth together in an attempt to keep my shit together. I should’ve done more to get in touch with her while I was gone. I was fucking around back home while someone was trying to scare the shit out of my girl. The way she keeps trying to make the situation seem less serious, it seems they succeeded. “Stay here,” I say, moving away from her. Her little feet slap against the tile behind me. “Wait! Where are you going?” In record time I’ve thrown on my shorts and sleeveless shirt. Sharlo hangs on my arm as I storm toward the suite’s entrance. “Please,” she cries. “You mustn’t leave when you’re this angry. Look at me! I’m perfectly fine. Whatever you’re thinking of doing can wait. We need to talk this through!” Looking down at her tear-streaked cheeks, I feel like I’ve been gutted with a filet knife. I refuse to sit around yet again while the cops fail at catching the person responsible. I bend down to give her a deep, caressing kiss that should leave no doubt in her mind what she means to me. Her lips, salty with tears, part when I slip my tongue inside, and she reaches up to clutch my hair in her fists. Her quiet whimpers are absorbed inside my mouth as I kiss her with everything I have to offer. When ending the kiss, I shake my head and stare into her beautiful eyes. It scares the living shit out of me when I realize my entire world has become invested in only her and the life she’s carrying. “Don’t ask me to stand by and watch while someone hurts the woman I love,” I tell her. Her swollen lips parting with a quiet gasp are the last thing I see before taking

off running down the hallway. “We don’t even know who did this!” she calls after me. But I have a pretty fucking good idea, and I’m going to make the son of a bitch pay.

T he sun is high in the sky by the time I pound on the door until it feels like my fist

will punch right through. After scoring an address from one of the guys at the gym, I hardly remember getting in a taxi and giving the driver the house number. I forgot my cell phone in the hotel, but at least I had the sense of mind to grab my wallet. “Answer the fucking door, Vaughn!” I roar, pounding again. “We need to talk!” The door finally swings open, banging against the wall inside. Freddie’s face is as raw as hamburger from my punches, and one eye has swelled shut. Looking like he just rolled out of bed, dark hair sticking up every which way and wearing nothing more than a pair of boxers, his dark brows pull together with a scowl. When his mouth opens, I don’t give him the chance to say anything before I tackle him to the ground. My already sore muscles scream in pain as we fall back into a rickety stairway and begin to wrestle. Neither of us are at full strength so soon after the fight, but I manage to get him in a headlock before long. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarls, clawing at my arm. “I know you’ve been stalking her, you sick fuck!” I roar. “What the fuck you talkin’ about? Stalking who?” “My girl, Sharlo!” “I haven’t done shit to her! Fuckin’ A, man! How’d you find my house?” “I know it was you—you knew her name!” I remind him, tightening my hold around his neck. “Tell me the truth or so help me god they’ll have to identify you with dental records by the time I’m through with you!” “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, man. The only time I’ve ever had anything to your girl was the first time we met at the gym. Just because I talked smack about her during the fight doesn’t mean I’m some kind of psycho. It was all just a technique to get you riled up. Stalking women isn’t my thing! I’m not into that kind of shit!” “Why should I believe you?” “Because I have a wife and two babies! I’m not stupid enough to do something that could land me in jail. I wouldn’t give them up for the world. Especially not for some amateur match!” Realizing I may have gone too far, I release him and back away. He’s quick to crawl away from me as he sputters and tries to catch his breath. Either he really is a psychopath and able to talk his way out of the situation, or he’s being sincere and had nothing to do with Sharlo’s harassment. But Freddie? A family man? The alternative—that he’s lying—seems much easier to swallow. “If I find out you had anything to do with it, I’ll come back and finish you off,” I

warn as he’s collecting himself off the floor. A curvy, dark-haired woman in shorts and a tank top comes dashing down the stairway with a bundle of blankets in her arms. When the baby she’s holding whimpers, she moves the bundle up to her shoulder and pats it lightly, her diamond ring catching my eye. Jesus, he really does have a family. The look of concern on the woman’s face comes off as harsh as a slap to the face. It’s the same look Sharlo gave me before I stormed out of our hotel room. What the hell was I thinking, leaving her to assault an innocent man? “Baby?” she asks Freddie in a pinched voice, looking from me to her husband. “What happened? Is everything okay?” Freddie gathers the woman in his arms and bends to kiss their child’s head. “Everything’s fine, sweetheart.” Then he tilts his head my way and smiles. “Remember James from the match last night? He just came by to apologize for beating me down. He’s begging for a re-match so I can return the favor.” “Doubtful,” the wife snaps, narrowing her dark eyes my way. “You were ruthless in what was supposed to be a fight in the name of fun. I think it’s time for you to leave.” “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” Hanging my head, I lower my gaze and turn away. Guess I’m a shit judge of character after all. “When you find the person responsible, don’t let anger cloud your judgment,” Freddie calls out. I spin back around to see him gesture to his wife and their baby. “It’s not worth losing the things that are most important in life.” His words hit home, making my stomach churn.

B y the time I’ve made my way back to the hotel, I already know I’m in the deepest

of shit before the suite door flings open to a tiny little blonde dressed in bright colors that hurt my nearly swollen shut eye. When I meet the woman’s narrowed gaze, I finally recognize her as Charlie’s older sister, Katie. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man twice over. “You asshole!” she exclaims, grabbing a handful of my shirt and hauling me inside. “Okay, I’m sorry I called you that because I don’t actually know you, but you can’t just take off on a pregnant woman when you’re upset! Are you out of your mind?” “Possibly,” I grumble. Over the top of her head, I catch Sharlo bursting from the bedroom doors in a silk robe, looking the worst I’ve seen her. Her red-rimmed eyes widen behind her wild hair and her mouth forms a perfect “O” as she runs toward me. “I was so bloody worried!” she cries, bumping Katie out of the way and throwing herself into my arms. “Where did you run off to?” Holding my girl tight, I throw a pleading look Katie’s way. Arms crossed over her stomach, she makes a little pouting noise before collecting her purse and cell

phone off the coffee table. “I’m not leaving until I know you two are going to be okay,” she announces. “I’ll be in the hallway if you need me, Shar.” Her icy stare flickers back to me as she makes her way toward the door. “Don’t make me unleash my crazy.” A moment later, the door slams shut behind her. “I’m sorry, baby,” I tell Sharlo, rubbing her back. “I was so pissed I couldn’t think straight.” “Where’d you go?” she asks, burying her face in my chest. “Doesn’t matter. I was wrong. I should’ve stayed and talked it out like you said.” Her ocean-blues travel upward to meet mine, overflowing with fresh tears. “I’m no expert on relationships, but I’m fairly certain there’s a rule out there that clearly states you can’t simply tell a girl you’re in love with her for the first time and then storm away without affording her the opportunity to reciprocate.” A tight band of hope expands across my chest when I draw in a sharp breath. Before I know it, the edges of my lips are curling with a smile. “Are you saying you love me too?” “Well now that you’ve gone and sucked the romance right out of the moment, I’m not so sure I’m ready to declare my feelings at this point in time.” Clicking her tongue, she rolls her eyes to their corners. “Of course I love you, sweetheart. I don’t blubber like a school girl for just anyone.” Relieved she isn’t as angry as I had expected, I bend to kiss her. Although I vow to find the person responsible for making her life hell, Freddie’s warning hangs heavily in the back of my mind. I swear to myself that I won’t do anything to make Sharlo hate me or, worse yet, do something that would make me lose the two people I wouldn’t know how to live without.

CHAPTER 18

SOFIA

pparently the universe doesn’t think it’s sufficient enough that my charter A plane was delayed by three hours after some imbecile had it double booked, or that

the gargantuan my brother-in-law sent to pick me up smells as if he bathes in some off-brand cologne that reminds me of the cheap soap found in public bathrooms. Oh no. Because when I step out of the SUV in front of what must be my little sister’s vacation home in the Hamptons, I twist my ankle on the way down. Not only does my cappuccino spill down the front of my white skirt, but the heel on my Valentinos snaps like a twig. “Come on!” I bleat, catching myself on the side of the vehicle. “Could this day get any shittier?” The driver—I believe he said his name was Donny or something to that affect— comes to my aid from the rear of the vehicle. As I slip the sandals off both feet, the bear-sized man holds my arm, burying my bicep in his massive grip. Even though it’s presumptuous for him to touch me in any way, I can’t deny the small wave of flattery that rises in my chest. I’ve been pushing attractive men away for so long that I’m unprepared for the slightest display of intimacy. “You alright?” he asks, studying me with a cocked eyebrow. He’s handsome enough and his bright green eyes are difficult to look away from, but I can’t get past his foul odor or the plethora of tattoos marring his massive body. He’s more Evelyn’s type—rough around the edges and a bit frightening. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s served time for misdemeanor crimes. “I can run inside and grab you a towel.” “No need,” I say, waving him off. “I’ll change once I’m situated in my room.” When I reach for my wallet to tip him, the man holds his hands upright and backs away. “Not necessary. Charlie told me you’re family, which means your ride was covered in my generous salary.” His thick lips curve with a dimpled grin and he motions toward the house with a tilt of his head. “Go ahead. I’ll bring your luggage.” Though his flirting is innocent, I’m unable to smile in return. I have yet to meet a man that I can be myself around or grant my complete trust. And besides, I’ve

invested too much into my future as a cut-throat attorney to let some bodybuilder with a cute smile make me lose my concentration. “Thank you.” I turn away from him, basking in the warm sun on my face and inhaling the salty sea air. The heat isn’t nearly as intolerable as Texas in the summertime, and I’m looking forward to getting a little color on the beach while here. It’s the only thing that could make this little family reunion bearable. Jealousy stirs through me with the impressive sight of Evelyn and Charlie’s shingle-style vacation home. My eyes greedily drink in the beautiful woodwork moldings, transom windows, gambrel roof, turrets, and brown shingles used as siding. Despite its light warmth and weather-beaten appearance that would attempt to make you believe it’s humble, I’m sure that between its square footage and the prime beach-side location, the estimated value is more than I’ll earn in a lifetime of representing even the wealthiest of clients. Even without having stepped foot inside, I can say with confidence that my friends in Dallas would simply die for a place of this caliber. Evelyn regards Charlie’s fame with insignificance, and the abbreviated amounts of time I’ve been around them it would seem they’re incapable of keeping their paws off each other, but seriously. The fact that he’s America’s most beloved rockstar and easily worth a quarter of a billion dollars must’ve played some part in the attraction. Although I don’t know my sister as well as a sibling should, I’d be willing to bet my prized Louis Vuitton handbag that money played some factor in her agreement to marry a mere stranger at such a young age. Don’t get me started on that “love at first sight” bullshit because that’s reserved for tacky chick-flicks and those cheap romance novels they sell at grocery stores. I’m busy appreciating the ornate landscaping as I climb the front steps and fail to notice someone coming out the door until the thick wood collides with my backside. A squeak flies from my mouth as I’m knocked over, landing head-first in a flowering bush, bare feet in the air. Ouch. As I’m struggling to escape the prison of greenery, a hand locks around one of my wrists and pulls me upright as if I’m made of air. Blushing, I glance down as I straighten my skirt, happy to see my arms are somehow scratch-free. Then I look up. All at once I’m facing a man so stunning that, despite being the former captain of the University’s debate team, I’m rendered speechless. Fuck me. I’ve always had a weakness for men with well-groomed beards and thick eyebrows. With dark eyes, dark wavy hair, sharp features, and an olive-hued complexion, I’d guess he’s of Greek decent. Not only that, but he’s built like someone who treats his body like a temple and spends a fair amount of time in the gym. The best part? He looks to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties. Right around my age. From his designer button-down rolled at the sleeves, I can’t help wondering if he’s a successful businessman of some kind who doesn’t know how to completely let loose. Broad shoulders set, square chin high, ridiculously muscular chest puffed out just slightly—I would venture to guess he’s in control of every aspect of his life and isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. A warm spasm licks between my legs with

the imagery of him dominating me in the bedroom. Pulling my shoulders back, I press my lips together and meet his alluring, russet-colored eyes. They’re lit with humor as he struggles to hold back a smile. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see you coming. Are you okay?” Guys like him are inevitably smooth talkers, able to negotiate their way inside a woman’s panties with a mere wink or a smile. It’s the reason I’ve always stuck to the intellectual, homely type. They’re a safe bet and no-nonsense, providing minimal conflict in my life. I’m not letting this cocky son of a bitch get to me. “My pride’s a little bruised, but I think I’ll live,” I reply. When he chuckles inside his hand, I narrow my eyes. Even if he is hotter than Hades, I’m infuriated that he’s humored at my expense. “Could you maybe not laugh? I’ve had a crappy day and you’re not making it any better.” Shaking his head, his smile grows. “Sorry, it’s just…” He reaches above my head. From the corner of my eye I catch sight of a silver Rolex on his wrist. Hot and loaded. I freeze as his hand plucks something from my hair. A second later he produces a cluster of shrubbery. “Just as I suspected, you’re even more beautiful without this in your hair.” Face warm with the compliment, I push a stray strand of golden hair behind my ear. “Oh.” All at once Charlie’s driver joins us with my luggage in tow. “Hey, Nolan,” he greets the playboy, grinning. When they bump fists, I hold back an eye-roll. They’re both so infuriatingly macho, they may as well be crossing dicks in a show of their manhood. “Can you show me to my room now?” I ask the driver, pinning my arms tight against my stomach. “I can take her,” Nolan offers, taking my luggage away from the man. “Charlie sent me out here to find you, Dante. He wants you to make a run for more ice.” “I’m on it,” Dante answers with a tip of his chin. Predictably, he throws me a flirty wink. “Good meeting you, Sofia. Go inside and take a shot to unwind. I’ll catch up with you later.” “Not happening,” I snap, unable to keep paranoia from rearing its ugly head. Is he suggesting I “unwind” so I’m more vulnerable to his advances? Realizing I came off as crass, I recover with, “I mean, shooting alcohol isn’t my thing.” “Okay then.” He exchanges an unsure glance with Nolan before retreating. Once he’s gone, Nolan faces me once again, one of his eyebrows lifted. The combined raspberry and leather scent of his cologne tickles my nose, smelling an awful lot like Tom Ford. Classy bastard. “So you’re Evelyn’s sister. I’m sorry about your father.” I nod once, having no idea what else to say. “Any of my other siblings here yet?” “Just James.” “Lucky you.” Nolan shrugs. “He seems like a good guy.” “He can be,” I mutter to myself as he starts for the house, pulling my suitcase

with one hand and lugging my carry-on with the other. I debated for the better part of a week whether or not I wanted to accept Evelyn’s invitation. Being around James all weekend is going to bring back too many memories. I sigh deeply when stepping inside my sister’s “play house.” It’s even more impressive than the outside, possessing the perfect decor and furniture combination for a relaxing retreat that includes the salty smell of the ocean and the distant roar of waves. Inside a state-of-the-art kitchen there’s a spectacular display of food and beverages complete with red, white, and blue orchids expertly arranged atop the white linens. Several cute, young caterers mill about, one of them flashing a polite smile when I meet his gaze. They’re so good-looking that I half expect them to strip down to g-strings later in the evening. Where did that come from? Oh yeah, that’s right. The need to get laid. Beyond a wall of sliding glass doors that are wide open for the occasion, dozens of people mingle as Charlie and his bandmates assemble their instruments on a make-shift stage. Just as I catch sight of my youngest sister with her British friend, both of them appearing so happy and carefree that it make me envious, Nolan hands me a flute of champagne. “You’re the one who went to law school in Texas, right?” he asks. “Yessir,” I answer, unsure if the southern drawl that comes out was intended or accidental. “You should consider relocating to Manhattan after graduation. I have a long list of friends who could use a good attorney. Myself included.” “How do you know I’m any good?” I look at him from behind the glass before taking a drink. My stomach instantly burns when the light bubbles slip down my throat, adding to the warm burn Nolan has already started. “I haven’t even taken the bar.” “You’re from the Midwest and you’re Ev’s sister. What else do I need to know?” A sexy as hell smirk tilts his beautiful lips as he waits for me to deny it’s true. “If we’re making assumptions, then I would guess you spend your days chasing bunnies around your ranch.” A deep, rolling laugh falls from his lips. “Not even close. I own the bar in Brooklyn Heights where your sister once waitressed.” He must be the classiest bar owner in the city. Before I can interrogate him any more, my little sister steps inside the house, her dark eyes wide and a bright smile pulling at her lips. She’s changed in the short time since Dad’s funeral, appearing more sophisticated in a well-coordinated outfit of dark blue Daisy Duke shorts, a bright red tank top, dark hair pulled back with a white bandanna. “Sof!” She runs to me and flings her arms around my shoulders, almost knocking me over in surprise. When did she get so physical? “I’m so glad you’re here! The others should be here any minute. I can’t wait to have the whole family together again!” “You must be deep into the booze already,” I comment with a stuttering laugh.

Though she doesn’t appear drunk, I can’t explain her perky mood unless, of course, it’s because she’s in stupid love with her husband. Ugh. The idea makes my eyes yearn to roll to the back of my head. “Says the girl with a drink in hand,” she retorts playfully. Then her eyes catch on my skirt and luggage. “Let’s get you settled in your room. I have some stain remover you can use.” “I’ll bring her luggage,” Nolan offers, setting his glass down to lug my things. “Thanks,” Evelyn tells him, turning to wiggle her eyebrows my way. When we start off down a long hallway, she whispers, “You two seem to be getting along well.” I ignore her comment, unwilling to admit he’s working his way under my skin in a favorable way. I simply need to remind myself that I’m only in town for a few days and my hectic life doesn’t allow for a meaningless fling. Evelyn leads me inside a small bedroom that’s charming as hell. White walls, white ceiling fan, dark wooden floor, blue Persian rug, antique armoire, and a 4-poster iron bed with white curtains make it a serious contender for the most tastefully decorated bedroom I’ve ever stepped foot inside. As much as I want to ask who’s responsible for the beautiful design, I’m too jealous to utter a word. “Sorry we don’t have enough beds for everyone to get their own,” Evelyn tells me, crossing the room to open a set of French doors. “You’re sharing with Angie. At least you two will have your own private backyard to hang out in if the madness gets to be too much in the next few days.” Nolan passes me to set my luggage on the white comforter. “I’ll let you two catch up.” Then he spins around to give me a dimpled grin. “I’ll save you a spot up front by the band.” Heat spreads through my cheeks when he walks out. “Oooh, I think someone has caught Nolan’s attention,” Evelyn sings, flopping down next to my luggage. The doe-eyed look she gives me gets on my nerves. Huffing, I cross the room to the bed and tug at my suitcase zipper. “Not interested in a player like him.” “You’d be surprised. He’s super sweet, Sof, and he, like, never dates. You should give him some serious consideration.” “And what?” I snap, rifling through my clothes. “Start a relationship over Skype?” It hadn’t occurred to me that I should pack anything remotely sexy. Every item of clothing I consider is boring and safe. When I look up at Evelyn, her eyes are narrowed and her arms are crossed. “I thought you weren’t sure where you wanted to work after graduation. I’m sure New York offers loads of opportunities for lawyers.” “First you move way the hell out here and now I’m hearing James isn’t going back home either. You expect me to drink the Kool-Aid next? I don’t know what’s so exciting about New York. It’s filthy and packed with criminals.” I shimmy out of my skirt and step into a pair of linen shorts good for making my legs appear extra long and lean. “Besides, I don’t think I could stand being that close to James

again.” “He’s not so bad,” she scolds, picking through my suitcase. “He’s changed somewhat since he decided to stay. Sharlo has a way of bringing out the best of him. He’s not as cranky all the time.” She hands me a one-shouldered shirt made of a pale pink, buttery satin, gifted to me by a good friend whose daddy struck it big in oil. “Shit, Sof. Hermes? How do you afford this stuff? I should send some of my designs back with you to Texas. You’d be a great advertisement for our clothing line even if it’s not really your style. You have the perfect body.” “You’ve got the wrong sister,” I mumble, snatching the shirt back and setting it in the suitcase. I’d never admit to anyone that my well-off friends sell me their designer clothes for a steal. “Fake it until you make it” has been my motto for as long as I can remember. “Modeling is Angie’s thing. I couldn’t handle the unwanted attention.” Evelyn pops to her feet, snorting. “Like men don’t look at you anyway? You’re a knock out and you’re crazy smart. I don’t know why you’re so dead set against dating.” “Because men aren’t a priority in my life.” Raising my eyebrows, I give her a hard stare. “I’m perfectly capable of providing for myself. Not every woman feels the need to find a rich hottie to take care of her.” “You think that’s why I married Charlie?” she asks in a sharp tone. “You obviously know nothing about me. I don’t buy Hermes or spend ridiculous amounts of money on any material things, and neither does my husband.” Shaking her head back and forth, her eyes begin to water over. “Why has it always felt like you hate all of us? I haven’t done anything to you, but I know James can be an overly possessive jerk sometimes. It just seems you go out of your way to avoid him and treat him like shit.” “I don’t hate him!” I snap back. Tears begin to spill down her cheeks when she asks, “Then what did we ever do to make you want to move as far from home as possible?” “It’s complicated,” I say quietly, swiping away my own leak of tears. “In case you haven’t noticed, this family is getting smaller by the minute. We need each other, Sof. James needs us. I can’t even begin to imagine what it did to his head when he found Dad. He could really use our support, regardless of what mistakes he made in the past.” She starts for the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. “Do me a favor and at least try to come down off your high horse while you’re here. I miss the big sister that would get down on the floor and play Barbies with me for hours, or take me to the pool in town and out for ice cream afterwards. She had a big heart and actually wanted to hang out with me.” When she’s out of sight, the dreaded memory from my junior year of high school —the one I’ve done everything to forget—returns in a blinding rage. Ready to throw up, I collect my things and begin to repack. Being around my siblings always makes everything worse.

CHAPTER 19

SHARLO

eclaring myself “ecstatically happy” doesn’t do the radiant feeling in my belly D proper justice as I prepare for Evelyn and Charlie’s 4th of July celebration. After

telling them about the baby, James and I agreed to keep the news from the rest of his family until they’ve had a chance to acclimate to the idea that I’m more than Evelyn’s good friend. We were also agreeable to coming up to the Hamptons a few days earlier than his family in order to avoid the expense of the hotel in downtown Brooklyn where we’ve been staying since his return. We claimed one of the beach house’s posh rooms by making love in the bed so many times that it’s a bit of an oddity to be fully dressed and standing upright. Charlie and Evelyn were the first to arrive, each of them rattling off about the party. Lorenzo and Dante were next, setting up a small stage in the back yard. Neither seemed all that surprised to learn James and I were officially an item, though Lorenzo held his hands over his heart and made a comment about “all the good ones being taken.” I assured him that James was never into him anyway. Nolan came soon after in a van filled with cases of alcohol that took the men the better part of an hour to transport inside. Katie, her teenage sons, and her mum weren’t far behind, arriving in time to instruct the caterers and wait staff of their duties. The morning flew by as I helped Evelyn prepare for the gathering, decorating and ensuring everything was in order. It’s late afternoon by the time we’re in the master suite, primping for the party in designs Katie and I specifically created for the occasion. After I’ve curled the last of Evelyn’s dark locks, I secure her hair with a white headband. The entire time she gives me this wide-eyed stare and knowing grin. It’s maddening. “Are you going to share what’s on your mind,” I ask, “or do I have to beat it out of you with that leather crop I just spotted in your closet?” When her face becomes scarlet red, I cheer silently to myself. At least she finally stopped staring at me like a nutter. “I can’t believe I left that out,” she mumbles. “Not exactly a surprise your rockstar’s into kink,” I tease. “We all have our fetishes.”

Her hands shoot up to cover her ears. “I don’t want to hear yours!” Laughing, I pry her hands from the sides of her head. “Tell me what’s going through that noggin of yours and I promise to keep my scandalous rendezvous with your brother to myself.” “I can’t believe you’re going to be the mommy of my niece,” she confesses, her goofy smile making another appearance. “Or nephew,” I correct sternly. “As challenging as it would be, we mustn’t rule out the fact that I could be raising a miniature version of James. God help us all.” “Whatever. I really want it to be a girl. Just think, Shar! The two of us could spoil the shit out of her, having girls’ trips together to get our nails done, shop, whatever. All the things you and I normally do together, only we’d have a mini Sharlo to show off. We could design the world’s cutest little dresses and make matching bows for her hair. She’ll be the most gorgeous bug in the world with your hair and JD’s big brown eyes!” My heart stutters with the vision of a blond-haired, brown-eyed beauty nestled inside the safety of James’s thick arms. Perhaps this parenting gig isn’t so dire after all. “As grand as that sounds,” I tell her, “from what I understand that’s not how it works. You aren’t able to simply ‘pick’ the baby’s sex unless you’re filthy rich. Even then, there’s not enough money in the world to choose after conception. Do we need to have ourselves a little discussion on how these things work?” Snorting, she bumps my arm. “Whatever. We’re going to be family, Shar. I mean officially.” “You and the baby, yes.” She clicks her tongue. “You can’t be my niece’s mom and not be related to me. That’s not how it works.” “Well your brother hasn’t exactly popped the question, now has he?” Her lips curve with a smirk. “Do you want him to?” “Perhaps one day, when the timing’s right.” I press my lips together, keeping the remainder of my thoughts on the subject to myself. It’s quite unnecessary to share my nagging question of whether or not James merely wants to be with me out of obligation to help me raise the child, or that the concept of marriage terrifies me more than the rumored Backstreet Boys reunion. And it’d be a wasted breath to argue we haven’t been together long enough when a short courtship worked brilliantly for my mate and her rocker. Evelyn turns to glance at herself in the vanity mirror. When she faces me again, her entire face is lit with a glowing smile. “By the way, Charlie and I talked to Katie this morning and she has no problem with you guys staying here as long as you need. I know you’re trying to figure everything out between my brother being homeless and your place not being safe, so I wanted to help out in any way I could.” I shake my head. “We couldn’t impose.” “Why not? It’s the least I can do after you invited me to come out here and live with you. I never would’ve met Charlie, and there’s no way I’d be this happy. I owe

you big time.” I pull my bottom lip through my teeth as I contemplate her offer. I did recently resign at the gallery and could work on designs for our fashion line from anywhere. And the idea of not having to return to the flat where there seems to be a target on my back has me sighing in relief. I’m not completely sure James would go for it though, especially seeing as he mentioned an interest in pursuing MMA fighting with Nolan’s guidance. There are still so many bloody issues we have to sort through that it makes my head woozy. There’s a soft knock at the bedroom door before James pushes his way inside. It doesn’t seem to register with him that his sister’s also in the room the way his eyes darken as they study me from head to toe. He licks his lips before they quirk with an adorable smile. “You look se—” “Don’t say it!” Evelyn pleads, popping to her feet and clapping her hands over her ears once more. “Wait until I’m out of the room to start any dirty talk!” Then she hugs me and whispers, “I’m so happy for you guys.” “Enough to loan us your crop?” I whisper back. “I’m outta here!” she cries, scurrying from the room. “If she has a problem with me saying you’re sexy as fuck, this is going to be a long weekend,” James tells me, biting back a grin. “You’ll simply have to whisper your sweet compliments into my ear,” I say, joining him in the doorway. I become putty the moment his arms wrap around my waist and I’m immersed in his manly scent. I can’t imagine there will ever come a day when this beautiful man fails to spark excitement between my legs, making me crazy randy. Now that I’ve envisioned him as a fearless protector of our infant, it’s going to take a brigade to stop me from expressing my feelings for him in public. He bends, grazing his lips across my earlobe when he whispers, “You look sexy as fuck.” “Don’t suppose there’s time for a quick round?” I ask, gripping his fit ass with both hands as he plants kisses up and down my neck. “I’ll always have time for you, baby, but if we start now, we’ll miss the party.” “That’d be rather unfortunate,” I manage despite becoming breathless from his tender kisses. With a groan, he settles his face in the curve of my neck and flexes his muscles around me. “You make me so fucking happy.” Tears prick my eyes, making it difficult to respond without breaking down like a blubbering wanker. This is a man who once didn’t know the meaning of “happiness,” and now he’s saying I’ve afforded him the opportunity to understand it. Does it make me a masochist that those specific words make me want to throw him down on the mattress and make love until the sun goes down? I squeeze him back and whisper, “I believe I know the feeling.”

unter hollers his greeting in an ear-splitting noise when we enter the backyard. After slapping hands with his twin, Hunter crushes me in his arms. As he sets me back down on the patio, his eyes dart down to where James claims my hand and he snickers. “I fucking knew it! That bastard Asher acted like there was nothing going on between the two of you, but…twin intuition, man!” Leaning in, he kisses me on the cheek and whispers, “I totally called it.” James pushes him away from me, pretending to be angry. Or at least I assume he’s pretending the way his lips twist with an almost-there smile. “Quit flirting with my girl. Go cool yourself off with a beer. They’re inside by the food.” “About time you found yourself a good one,” Hunter tells his brother, slapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t screw it up.” “Asshole,” James mutters as his brother strolls back toward the house. Then he’s pulling me in his arms and running his lips along my jawline. I once again feel a need to drag him back to the bedroom, company be damned. “You still feeling okay, baby?” he asks. “I’m brilliant,” I promise, turning to meet his lips. Despite having an audience of more friends and family that have arrived, some of which I don’t recognize, James goes wholeheartedly after the kiss, gripping my bum and gyrating his hips into mine. I’m gobsmacked when we hear a high-pitched squealing noise calling every nearby dolphin, and break away from James to find his oldest sister, Angelina. Granted, I’m still intimidated by her timeless beauty, especially when she’s dressed as if preparing to sail the Greek islands. But I’d be lying if I claimed her reaction didn’t feel like a seal of approval that I hadn’t anticipated. “How long has this been going on?” she asks, coming after me for another crushing embrace. The Kendall children sure know how to make a girl feel welcome. “A while,” James barks out, obviously not ready to go in on the details. “Well, I can’t believe there’s someone out there willing to put up with our James,” Angelina replies, backing away with her fingers locked through mine. “You’re well on your way to sainthood, sister.” “That’s a bit brass, don’t you think?” I scold. “He’s been the rock for your family all these years. I would think he deserves nothing less than the utmost respect for putting everyone else’s needs ahead of his own.” Her piecing blue eyes flitter between me and James as a blush fills her cheeks. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Her perfectly white teeth flash when her eyes settle on her brother. “Sorry, JD. I’m glad you found someone who isn’t afraid to say what’s on her mind. You deserve to be happy.” James merely stares at her until Evelyn appears to greet their sister, breaking the tension. I rise to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “I’m feeling parched. I’ll be right back with a pint for you and something far less exciting for me.” With heavy eyes, he draws me in for a soft kiss before letting go. I feel as if my head is in the clouds as I wander off toward the house in search of a beverage. I

H

finally understand the meaning behind the old cliché “stupid in love” and wish to shout my devotion from the rooftop. Perhaps I understand that “baby brain” nonsense Katie once mentioned as well. Braden, looking fit as ever, seeks me out as I’m leaving the kitchen and greets me with an embrace so grand that I’m quite literally swept off my feet and nearly spill my ginger ale. He’s as built as James and wears a musk cologne that sets my heart aflutter. No use pretending the Marine Corp bit doesn’t excite me in a way Nolan’s patriotism once did either. Even in board shorts and a Billabong T-shirt, his regulation haircut gives him away as being in the military. Once he sets me down, he slings an arm around my neck in a side-hug and flashes his deep dimples. “Please tell me it isn’t true about you and my brother. I can think of a dozen things I’d rather call you than my sis, and none of them are PG.” A bright laugh falls from my lips. “Best not let him hear you say such things. You do remember he has a possessive side, yeah?” “I can take him,” he quips, winking. “I hope you and my sister at least invited some of your hot friends. I’ve been in Japan for way too long. I need to find myself a good ol’ American woman.” “If there are any present, I’m quite sure they’ll find you,” I tease, bumping into him with my hip. “You’re rather difficult to miss.” “Brae!” Evelyn calls out, running to her brother. Katie trails in behind her, stopping at my side to watch as the siblings hug and exchange words. Her eyebrows raise as her gaze fixes on Braden’s plump ass. “Hot damn,” she whispers. “Having Ev’s brothers around is like being on the set of a photo shoot for Calvin Klein underwear. What in the hell was in the water where that family grew up? I’m going to need some alone time after watching them parade around without shirts all day. If I weren’t old enough to be that boy’s mother, I’d be willing to teach him a thing or two.” “Hunter’s unspoken for,” I whisper back. “And he’s, what? A whole two years older than this one? I can’t be messing around with boys who are hardly older than my sons, Shar! People go to jail for that kind of thing!” “Only if they’re under eighteen.” I wiggle my eyebrows, soliciting an eye-roll from Katie. “And I’d like to point out you’re not literally old enough to be their mum. They’re in their twenties and this one has been around the world, fighting for his country. Nothing’s stopping you from having a bit of fun.” “Stop. Tempting. Me.” Wiping at her face, she begins to walk away, muttering, “I need a shot of something really strong.” Catching her sister-in-law’s forlorn expression as she passes by, Evelyn turns to me. “What’s with her?” “Sexual frustration,” I stage whisper. Braden bursts out laughing before starting out after Katie. “I’ll see if I can be of assistance.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Evelyn calls after him. “This is all so lovely,” I say, hooking my arm through Evelyn’s as I take a sweeping look around the backyard. Charlie stands behind the microphone on the make-shift stage, tuning his guitar as his drummer’s making adjustments to his kit, and the rest of the guests start filling in to watch. “Can’t believe I’m among the privileged about to witness Thrashtag’s first public reunion.” She grins madly, the pride for her rockstar husband glowing in her eyes. “Anyone within a mile radius will hear them. By the end of the night, the beach down there will be packed. Charlie doesn’t seem too concerned about it though. He says everyone along this side of the Hamptons is pretty chill. Most everyone knows he owns this place, and they usually leave us alone.” “Where’s Sofia? I have yet to see her since she arrived.” “We got into a pretty ugly fight,” Evelyn admits, flattening her smile. “I suppose I should go check on her.” “No bother, I can do it on your behalf. You should be up front-and-center when your hubby strikes his first chord. Wouldn’t want him thinking he’s lost his biggest fan.” “Are you sure you want to put yourself through that? She can be…difficult.” “Haven’t you heard?” I ask with a goofy grin. “Difficult Kendall siblings is my specialty.” I kiss her on the cheek before heading back into the house. “Third bedroom on the right!” she hollers to my backside. “You’re the best, Shar!” As I make my way down the hallway, I hear the opening notes of one of my favorite Thrashtag songs and curse myself for being so agreeable. “Sofia,” I call out quietly, tapping my knuckles on the door. “You in there, luv?” With no answer after a full minute of tapping on the door, I try the handle to find it open. The room is completely bare with no sign of anyone ever having been inside, though the French doors are wide open. I start across the room, intending to close them, when my eyes catch on a patch of blond hair near the driveway. When I step outside, I find Sofia with her luggage in tow, waiting alongside the curb. “Sofia!” I call out. “What on earth are you doing?” She jumps with the sound of my voice. When her eyes find mine, she snatches her rolling bag and takes off in the other direction on foot. “Wait!” I yell, taking off towards her. “Where are you going?” She must sense I’m not far behind when she begins jogging down the sidewalk and cries, “I’m leaving! It was a mistake to come here!” “Don’t be daft. You’re certainly not going to walk back to Texas!” When she refuses to slow her roll, I take off in a sprint and curse myself for not keeping up with my fitness routine because of morning sickness. This child hasn’t even found its way out, and already it’s turning my life on its head. Sofia reaches the end of the sidewalk on the cul-de-sac and begins to cross the street. I’d be tempted to laugh at how quickly her heeled feet shuffle across the asphalt if I weren’t so annoyed. That one is even more stubborn than her brother.

“Trust me when I say your sister wants you to stay!” I tell her, crossing the street at her heels. “I’m not up to date on whatever may have transpired between you and your siblings in the past, but they all seem quite eager to mend bridges! Stop pouting and come back so we can talk this over properly! I’m horribly out of shape and can’t chase you much longer!” I’m unable to hear her response over the deafening roar of an engine.

CHAPTER 20

JAMES

harlie’s band finishes up their first song and everyone in the backyard loses C their damn minds, clapping and howling. A small crowd has gathered where the

backyard meets the beach, some of them talking with Dante and others taking pictures with their phones. Though I’ll openly admit I’m a Thrashtag fan, I don’t have it in me to applaud while looking around for Sharlo. Even though she said she was feeling okay, I have an uneasy feeling about her disappearance since she said she’d be right back. I wouldn’t put it past her to say she was fine just so I won’t worry. Nudging my way past everyone, I start for the house and make a quick sweep of the bathrooms. Just as I’m passing one of the empty bedrooms, I hear the squeal of tires followed by a gut-clenching scream. Adrenaline shoots through my limbs, pumping my legs. I dart through the empty room and through the open glass doors leading to the front yard, stopping in the driveway. At first I wonder if I imagined the god-awful noise, then I glance down the street and find a set of burn-out marks leading up to a dark sedan that’s crashed into a neighbor’s stone gate. But I hardly pay the car any attention before my eyes land on a woman—Sofia—running to an unmoving body. Sharp razors of dread shoot up my spine. I know those bloodied legs and the sandals scattered around them. No. No! My legs start pumping, propelling me toward the nightmare. When Sharlo’s broken body comes into view, I almost fall on my ass. Her eyelids are closed and her face is covered in road-rash. Blood soaks into the pavement around her head. It reminds me all too much of the night I found Dad. I stumble backward, shaking my head. No no no! Not my Sharlo! The sound of someone yelling my name sounds distant and fuzzy, like they’re standing at the end of a tunnel. My stomach clenches violently as someone roars, “Call an ambulance!” Quiet moans send me running in the direction of the car. A gray-haired man

murmurs from behind a deflated airbag in the driver’s seat. I stalk toward him and grab onto his unbuckled chest, yanking him out onto the grass by his shirt. The stench of booze clings to him like shit on a pig. A blinding need to kill him for hurting Sharlo shakes me to the core. “I’m so sorry!” the man cries, thrashing his head back and forth. “I’m…I made a mistake! I wanted him to pay…what have I done? Oh god! What have I done? Please forgive me!” His broken apology spins through my head, the words disconnected and slurred. My hand trembles, trying to make a fist. “The cops are on their way, JD,” a deep voice says behind me. “Let them handle it.” Then someone is pulling on my arm, dragging me away from the man. Soon I find myself stumbling toward Sharlo’s body. There’s an earth-shattering howl that rips through the warm evening air as I fall to my knees at her side and take her limp body in my arms. So much blood… “You shouldn’t move her!” a woman cries. “Don’t even try stopping him,” someone tells her. “The ambulance said they’re five minutes out. She’s gonna be okay.” Face pressed into her blood-soaked hair, my heart seizes when I can’t find her vanilla scent. “Come on, Shar, wake up. You can’t leave me. Come on, baby, open those beautiful eyes.” A string of meaningless words continue to fall from my lips as my heart rips in two.

“ W hy haven’t we heard anything?” I ask no one in particular, continuing to

pace the tiled floor. It’s been three fucking hours since we arrived, and we haven’t gotten a single fucking update. The antiseptic smell of the emergency room does nothing to calm my nerves. When I told the EMTs in the ambulance that Sharlo was pregnant, the already tense atmosphere in the claustrophobically small space became dire as they exchanged a worried glance. It was hard to miss the look of sympathy the female technician gave me. “They’re focused on helping Shar right now,” Evelyn says in a gentle voice, setting her hand on my arm. “She’s going to be okay, JD.” I jerk away from her with a flare of anger coiling inside my gut. “No one has told us she’s going to be okay.” As she shrinks away from me into her husband’s arms, her eyes red and tired from crying, I kick myself for being a dick. She’s just as upset as I am, and she has every right to be. When they wheeled Sharlo away for surgery, I was in a haze of shock and didn’t

notice who all had joined me in the ER until the police came to question Sofia and then me before promising to keep us updated. They didn’t have much information other than the asshole’s name. I was too worked up to remember it two minutes afterwards and only recall them saying he was from California. The place has been unnaturally quiet since we arrived. The only other patients to come through have been an old lady who fell, and a 10-year-old kid who had a firecracker go off in his hand. The lady’s elderly husband and a set of freaked-out parents are the only other people waiting, and they’ve each thrown me dozens of uneasy glances since they arrived. Nolan, Sofia, Evelyn, and Charlie look various stages of worried when I take a sweeping glance at each of them. I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone. “Can we get you something?” Charlie offers, rubbing Evelyn’s shoulder with one hand and tugging on his ratty old baseball cap with the other. He’s always so paranoid about being spotted in public, but I think he forgets he’s made my sister nearly as famous. “Maybe you should go to the bathroom and clean up.” Glancing down at Sharlo’s dried blood covering my hands and shirt, I’m struck with another crippling wave of fear. The woman I love is fighting for her life, and I can’t do a goddamned thing about it. “Go back to the party,” I tell them all. “It’s what she’d want you to do.” “I’m not leaving you here alone,” Evelyn insists, folding her arms over her stomach. Charlie hugs her from behind. “And I’m not leaving her.” A small sob comes from Sofia when she says, “It’s my fault she’s here. I can’t leave until I know she’s going to be okay.” Nolan, sitting at her side in one of the plastic chairs, slings an arm around her shoulders. I almost do a double take when she leans into him, crying into his chest. Guess my stone-cold sister still has some feelings under that icy demeanor after all. I still don’t fully understand what took place that had Sharlo chasing Sofia down the street or why the old man who hit her was blubbering about making some guy pay. Everything happened in a fucked-up blur, and my mind struggled to keep up. All I know is that I was listening to the band when I should've been looking for her sooner. I failed to protect my family. “Shar’s dad booked a flight that leaves San Jose in a couple hours,” Evelyn reports, looking down at her phone. “It’ll be early morning before he gets here.” Fucking-A. Can’t wait for that conversation. Sorry, sir, for getting your daughter knocked-up and then letting some drunk asshole almost succeed in killing her. I may as well tuck my balls between my legs right now and head back to Minnesota. A severe-looking older woman in blue scrubs and a matching paper hat comes charging out of the swinging doors they took Sharlo through. From her washed out expression, it looks as if something drained her of all energy. “Nolan Zimmerman?” she asks in a grave tone. My eyes dart over to Nolan as he rises to his feet. “That’s me.”

“Come with me, please,” she tells him, gesturing with her hand. Nolan has started to grow on me since that day at the gym when he pulled me off Freddie, but I’m suddenly jealous he’s Sharlo’s go-to person. If anyone should have the right to know what going on, it’s the father of her child. Nolan stops dead in his tracks, pointing my way. “He’s her fiancé.” I’ll be damned. The white lie makes me want to hug the guy and even kiss his fucking cheek. The woman’s lips tighten like someone who has sucked on a lemon. “You’re the only one listed as her emergency contact.” “I just proposed to her this morning,” I blurt, all at once wishing the lie was true. Christ, I would’ve married her the minute I came back to the city had I known this shit was going to happen. When the woman gives me a skeptical look, I add, “Please. She’s everything to me.” She gives in with a deep sigh. “Alright then. Both of you, come this way.” Nolan hurries to my side, clapping me on the shoulder. “She’s gonna be okay, man.” The boulder in my gut prevents me from answering. I’m on auto-pilot when we follow the woman into a small, sterile room with a set of chairs. The low buzz of the lights over our heads sets my teeth on edge. Is this the room where they break the news to families that their loved ones have died? I make a point of standing in front of the chair and crossing my arms, letting the woman know I have no intention of sitting. “I’m Doctor Lewis, general surgeon,” she tells us with a small bob of her head. “Miss Rockford has suffered several serious injuries. She fractured her pelvis and her right femur. We operated on her leg, but her pelvis will simply take a considerable amount of time to heal with bed rest. We had to remove one of her kidneys that was punctured in the accident, although as you may know, it’s perfectly normal for a healthy adult to function with only one. We’re most concerned about the blood collecting between the layers of tissue that surround her brain.” As the news sinks in, I swear to fuck the floor drops out from underneath me. “The sudden blow to her head tore the blood vessels that run along the surface of her brain. It’s called an acute subdural hematoma. We put her in a medically induced coma to keep the pressure from increasing in her skull. We’ll have to monitor her closely with CTs to determine whether or not it’s necessary to operate in order to relieve the pressure.” Nolan sets his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Are we talking brain surgery?” he asks. “Like I said, we’ll have to monitor her condition closely before we make any decisions.” “The baby…” I bite out, already knowing the answer before she speaks. If her pelvis was broken and her kidney had been punctured, the little guy wouldn’t stand a chance.

Looking me straight in the eye, the surgeon’s lips turn downward. “I’m sorry. There weren’t any heart tones when she arrived.” Pulling in a sharp breath, my fingers curls into fists. Sharlo wasn’t on board with the motherhood thing in the beginning, but had started to change her mind in recent days. Just yesterday there was a glowing light in her eyes when she showed me an article online saying our baby was the size of a kumquat. If the blood pushing on her brain doesn’t kill her, the news that our baby is gone easily could. When I turn to leave the room, Nolan says something and pats me on the back. The woman’s voice drones on as I stumble my way back out to the waiting area, almost colliding with Evelyn and Sofia. “What’d she say?” Evelyn asks, digging her fingers into my arms. The lump in my throat is too large to swallow, making it feel like I’ll choke to death before I can breath again. I push past my sisters, drawn to the exit by some invisible force. Shuffling through the dim-lit parking lot, I continue on without any idea what I’m doing or where I’m going. We lost the baby. If Sharlo doesn’t make it either… My chest contracts so hard with the thought that I think I might be having a heart attack. I’m a ways down the block when I hear the pounding of footsteps on the pavement behind me. Before long a hand grabs my shoulder. I whip around, ready to beat the living shit out of something or someone. Charlie ducks as I throw my fist, narrowly escaping the blow. “Whoa! It’s me!” The near-hit felt good. I don’t know how to deal with the dark emotions surging through my chest other than to hit it out with my fists. I look away from Charlie, unable to speak. “Nolan told us,” he explains. “I’m sorry about the baby. I can’t fucking imagine what you’re feeling right now, man. If that was your sister in there…” He stops short, shaking his head. “Jesus, I can’t even think about it without wanting to bust something. Look, bro, I get it, you don’t want to talk. That’s cool with me. But Sharlo’s gonna need you to keep your shit together once she’s awake. And she is going to wake up because we both know that feisty woman is strong as hell.” He grabs the back of my neck, waiting for me to look him in the eye. “She’s gonna be okay. You hear me?” Clenching my jaw together, I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

L ater I return from washing the blood off my hands in the men’s room to find

Evelyn quietly snoring in Charlie’s lap and Sofia resting on Nolan’s shoulder. The rest of the small waiting room is empty. I don’t have a chance to sit before a nurse comes over. She’s young and pretty, probably just out of nursing school by a year or

two. “Are you James?” she asks. When I nod, her lips bend with a sincere smile. “They’ve moved your fiancée to ICU.” “Can I see her now?” I ask, surprised by the sound of my voice cracking. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You can see her first thing in the morning. In the meantime, go home and get some rest. Your fiancée has a long road ahead of her.” Then she spins around to leave. A second later I’m hot on her trail down the hallway, unwilling to accept her answer. “Where are you going?” Charlie calls after me. As a nurse’s station comes into view, he hurries to my side. “You heard what she said. They’re not going to let you bend their rules.” “I’d like to see them stop me.” He hangs back, grumbling to himself when I approach the nurse as she’s stepping behind the pod. When I clear my throat, her long, dark lashes flutter. “Did you need something?” “I need to see her,” I grumble, running a hand over my head. Jesus, even my hair hurts. It feels like a week has passed since we were at my sister’s beach house and everything was okay. My bones ache worse than than after a fight from carrying so much stress. “I know you said it’s past visiting hours, but—” Her head tilts and her lips curl with a smile that feels too condescending. “I’m sorry. Hospital policy—” “I don’t give a shit about your fucking policy!” I snap. “I have to see her! Now!” She holds her palms up and glances over her shoulder, probably looking for someone to back her up against the giant psycho. “Sir, please calm down or I’m going to have to call security.” “That won’t be necessary,” Charlie butts in, stepping around me. Smiling, he sets both elbows on the desk to give her an eyeful of his inked sleeve, and removes his baseball hat. “He didn’t mean to snap at you,” he adds in a sappy voice. It only takes the woman a second of staring at his face before her mouth drops and she quietly gasps. Normally I’ll throttle him for openly flirting with another woman, but he’s already working his magic. Batting her eyelashes, her smile grows. It reminds me of the way Ivy used to look at me when I was sparring in Cupp’s shed, only Charlie’s able to work his charm ten times faster. I’d be impressed if he wasn’t married to my sister. “I’m sure it sucks you were scheduled to work on a holiday,” he continues. “It’s been an all-around shit day for my brother-in-law. The woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with was hit by a car. You can imagine how badly he wants to see her. Can you just look past the policy this one time? Neither of us would tell anyone if you were to bend it.” The woman glances over her shoulder, licking her lips and twirling a strand of curly hair around her finger. Then she turns back to us and stands, leaning

uncomfortably close to Charlie. If she makes it any more obvious how badly she wants him, I’m going to wake Evelyn and fill her in on the situation. “Let me take a picture with you and I’ll let him sneak in there, but he has to be gone when the next shift starts. I can’t lose my job over something like this.” “Of course not,” Charlie says with another charming smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” “It’s Veronica,” she answers, giggling. Looking at me, she points to a door no more than thirty feet away. “She’s in there.” “Want me to come with you?” Charlie asks. “Go back to your wife,” I say. “I need to do this alone.” I catch Veronica pouting before I head off toward the room. Stopping to brace myself, I purposely don’t look through the glass windows of Sharlo’s room. I know what I’m about to see could very well be the fucking end of me.

CHAPTER 21

JAMES

small hand squeezes my shoulder, drawing me from a deep sleep. A “Hey, it’s me,” Evelyn whispers.

Bolting upright from the side of the bed, I wipe my exhausted face with both hands. My little sister stands at my side, her eyes heavy with worry. I’m still in the chair at Sharlo’s side in the ICU room. Her chest rises and falls with the aid of the ventilator as machines blip and beep with her vitals. Seeing her unconscious, almost dead-like with half her body wrapped in bandages, did some weird shit to my head. Without a smile on her now pale lips or seeing her big blue eyes shining with mischief, it feels like her spirit has vacated, leaving an empty shell behind. I must’ve begged her for an hour to open her eyes and call me a “wanker” for not taking better care of her and our baby. I half expected her to sit up and laugh, confessing this was all some stupid fucking prank. I must’ve passed out some time in the night while I was stroking the only spot on her arm free of road-rash. My body’s uncomfortably stiff, aching with worry from the day before. Evelyn looks equally exhausted, still wearing her wrinkled 4th of July clothes. At some point she took her long brown hair out of the handkerchief she was wearing and it sticks up around her head in a way that would’ve been comical before shit went down. Her weary eyes appear to see right through me when she speaks. “The day nurse that checked in this morning wasn’t happy that you were here all night, but Charlie convinced her to let you stay. I think she was scared security wouldn’t be able to remove you anyway. I was surprised to find you still sleeping since they’ve checked in on her a few times in the last couple of hours.” I clear my throat, still thick with sleep. “What time is it?” “Almost seven.” The way she stares at Sharlo, face pale and lips quivering, I wonder if this is the first time she’s seen her friend since the accident. She looks ready to faint when she reaches for my hand. “Her dad is here. You should come out and meet him, then give him some time alone with her.” Pressing my lips together, I rub my sweating hands over my knees. It’s the moment of truth, the meeting I’d do anything to avoid. Looking and smelling like shit, I’m about to stand face-to-face with the first man to have Sharlo’s heart.

“Give me a minute,” I tell Evelyn, nodding. When she nods back, tears spill from her eyes. “She’s going to get through this, JD. She’s too strong not to.” “Yeah,” I answer quietly, wishing I felt as confident. With the sound of the door clicking shut behind my sister, I stand and press my lips to Sharlo’s forehead. “I won’t be far, little butterfly. You work on healing so we can start the rest of our life together.” I try not to let it upset me when she doesn’t even so much as flinch in response. I try to hold my shit together as I shuffle out of the room, feeling like a traitor for turning my back on her when she needs me more than ever. I try like hell to convince myself I’m sweating like I just finished a match because it’s unnaturally hot in this hospital and not because I already know I won’t live up to Teddy Rockford’s standards. What do I have to offer his daughter? He’ll know I don’t have the means to support the lifestyle he’s given her. He’ll know I’m a fucking failure for letting this happen to his daughter. A man who could easily be in his late 40s paces beyond the nurse’s pod, rubbing and twisting his hands with his gaze locked on the tiled floor. His slacks and dress shirt are rumpled and there’s a dark suit coat draped over one arm. Based on his thick frame and light brown hair, I wouldn’t have picked him from a crowd as being Sharlo’s dad. Then his head jerks in my direction, and I’m looking into a very familiar pair of ocean-blue eyes, lit with pain and despair. “James?” he grunts. I actually consider bolting as he starts my way, jaw clenched and neck corded. Even though he’s fairly tall and looks to be in great shape, I still tower over him in height and width. But it’s not like I’m about to fight him if that’s what he needs to get past this. I deserve whatever retribution he feels a need to deliver in the name of his beautiful baby girl. The moment I’m convinced he’s going to deck me, his arms encircle around me and he claps my back. “I’m so sorry, son!” The words sound choked and filled with sorrow. With my arms still at my sides, I blink several times, trying to clear the confusion from my mind. Why the fuck is he apologizing to me? “Sir?” I ask. “Nolan filled me in when I got here,” he explains, stepping back with a hand lingering on my shoulder. With his other hand he swipes at each of his wet eyes. “I know you’re in love with my daughter. I know about my grandbaby.” His eyes flicker up to the ceiling for a moment as he collects his breath. “If I weren’t such a shitty father and had the decency to check in on her every now and then, it wouldn’t have taken a flight across the country while she’s fighting for her life to learn about you.” “I’m the one who should be apologizing, sir. I was there. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” His eyebrows draw together. “You were beside her when she was hit?”

“I was inside my sister’s beach house. She told me she was going to get a drink. I should’ve gone looking for her sooner.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens. “You can’t possibly blame yourself over something like that. If you know my Sharlo the way Nolan claimed, then you know damn well she’s got a spirit that can’t be tamed. If you tried to watch over her twenty-four seven, you’d smother her to death.” “Still—” “No,” he says firmly, taking a step closer. “You don’t get to carry the burden for what happened. If you and my daughter are in love, then I don’t need to know you to understand you’d do anything to protect her. She’s a very intelligent young woman and wouldn’t have let you in her life after that insolent bastard Richard unless you were worth it. Nolan told me you’re a good man, and he wouldn’t have any reason to lie.” His eyes fill with tears once again and he stutters on a breath. “What happened to my baby girl because of some incompetent fool who got behind the wheel after drinking is not on you, son. Do you understand me?” The instinct to protect him kicks in when I mirror his pose and give him a hard stare. “She’s going to pull through this.” He dips his chin as a tear rolls down his cheek. “I’m going to go in and see her, then you and I can spend time getting to know each other.” This time when he puts his arms around me, I hug him back. As unexpected as it was for him to defend me, the fact that I seem to have his approval is the one thread of hope I have to hold on to in this never-ending, fucked-up nightmare.

“ W e don’t know how long she’ll be like this,” Evelyn reminds me, crossing her

arms under her chest as she stands in the middle of the waiting room. “If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be strong enough to stay by her side. You need a good night of sleep and a change of clothes. You’re going to scare people with all that blood on your shirt. And when’s the last time you ate?” “The cafeteria has food,” I grumble, refusing to budge from my spot on the couch. “I’ll be fine.” Charlie moves behind her, wrapping her little body in his thick arms. “He’s right, freckles. We can bring him back a change of clothes and some take-out. I wouldn’t leave if I was him either.” He presses a kiss to her temple before saying, “Let’s go. Nolan and your sister are waiting in the car. Everyone’s exhausted.” Evelyn points a finger my way, eyes narrowed. “Promise you’ll call if you need anything.” “Can’t, phone’s dead,” I answer, lifting one shoulder. “We’ll bring you back a charger,” Charlie promises with a bob of his head. He steps at my sister’s side and takes her hand, pulling her toward the exit. “Go get something to eat!” Evelyn calls over her shoulder. “I mean it, JD!” When her head whips back around, she almost collides with two somber men

wearing cheap suits. “Excuse me,” the taller of the two says to her, flashing a stiff smile. I watch the men continue on to the nurse’s pod, their matching strides filled with purpose. After a minute, a nurse points beyond them to where I sit and the men turn to look at me. When I realize they must be here because of Sharlo, I bolt to my feet and start for them. “James Kendall?” the taller man asks. The way his dark hair is buzzed down to almost nothing and he carries himself with still, calculated movements, I peg him as someone who served in the military. When I grunt in reply, he extends his hand. “Detective Coulter. This is my partner, Detective Freeman. We’re with the NYPD.” “Are you here about my daughter?” Teddy asks, emerging from Sharlo’s room. His red eyes are a brutal reminder of how hard it hit me the first time saw her unconscious, hooked to all those machines. “Are you Theodore Rockford?” Detective Coulter confirms. When Teddy nods, the detective passes him a thoughtful expression. “We were sorry to hear about your daughter. We were assigned to her case when she was being harassed in Brooklyn Heights.” “She’s not fucking dead,” I snap. “Of course not,” Detective Freeman replies. In contrast to his partner, he’s older and soft-spoken with gentle eyes. The good cop. “He meant to say we were sorry to hear she was in a serious accident.” “Hold on!” Teddy pleads, holding both hands out. “My daughter was being harassed?” A wave of guilt washes over me. It never occurred to me that I should’ve made Sharlo tell her dad what was happening. “I didn’t know about it until recently,” I tell him. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private to have this discussion,” Detective Coulter suggests. He turns to the stern-looking nurse still standing behind the counter. “Is there an empty room we could use?” She points to a room on the opposite side of the wing from Sharlo’s. “Number two is open for the time being.” I follow the two men alongside Teddy into the empty room. A wavering uncertainty burrows its way inside my chest as I wonder why the men are here. Could the accident have something to do with the person that kept calling her? Teddy seems equally anxious, refusing to sit as Detective Coulter suggests. “What do you know about the person responsible for harassing my daughter?” he demands. “We came here this morning to talk to you about Peter Sandeen,” Detective Coulter tells him. “I understand he worked under you when you were the acting CEO of RH-Tech Industries.” “Christ!” Teddy spits, covering his forehead with a hand and lowering to the empty bed. His fingers and thumb methodically rub at his temples. “What did that bastard do now?”

Detective Coulter glances at his partner before saying, “We have evidence in our possession that proves Mr. Sandeen was the one making anonymous phone calls to you daughter. He was also a confirmed passenger on a flight that would’ve brought him to New York around the time someone broke into her apartment.” “Someone broke in?” I ask, flexing my fists. “She told me it was just a broken window!” Teddy springs to his feet, face as red as a tomato. “Where is he? I’ll kill that son of a bitch!” “I understand you’re upset, but you might want to be careful what you say in our presence,” Detective Freeman suggests in a calming tone. “Maybe you can find comfort in the fact that we have Mr. Sandeen in our custody. He confessed to following your daughter from Brooklyn Heights to her friend’s beach house and hitting her with a rental while under the influence.” “Why?” I ask, looking back and forth between Teddy and the detectives. “What the fuck was he trying to prove by hurting Sharlo?” “He’s angry with me,” Teddy answers, rubbing at the back of his neck. He stares at a blank spot on the wall as he continues. “When I switched companies, he lost his job. He lived beyond his means and couldn’t make the mortgage payments on his house. His wife left him and took their three kids. He called me almost every single day after he was let go, begging me to get him a job with my new company. I told him there was nothing to do. When he tried extorting me for money, I tried to make him understand it wasn’t my decision to let him go, but…fuck!” “He’s being held on aggravated driving while intoxicated and attempted manslaughter charges,” Detective Coulter explains. “It’ll be amended to voluntary manslaughter if your daughter doesn’t pull through. He’ll be facing up to a lifetime in prison.” Teddy glances at me with quivering lips. “He was once my friend. He used to come to our house for dinner, for Christ’s sake! I never thought he’d go to this extreme to get back at me!” The desire to punch something vibrates down my spine, possessing me to the core. I don’t know whether I’m angry at Teddy for not telling someone about the crazy asshole sooner, angry at the detective for insinuating Sharlo may die, or still angry at myself for going back to Minnesota when all this was happening. It’s most likely a combination of all three. All I know is the hallway sways around me when I hit the ground running.

W ith a chuckle Nolan removes his headgear and steps down from the ring. “Shit, James. You’re a beast—a force to be reckoned with. Between your skills that only keep improving and that fight with Freddie becoming a YouTube sensation, the MMA circuit isn’t going to know what the fuck to do with you.” Sharlo once called me a beast too. I wipe at the sweat on my face before my

fingers settle in the thick hairs lining my jaw. “I should head back.” “You’re better off here, working things out,” he insists, throwing me an ice-cold bottle of water from a cooler set up beside the ring. “You’re starting to make the nurses nervous the way you stalk around the hospital day and night.” “I need to be there when she wakes.” I swear to Christ I’ve said the same thing a hundred times to my sisters. When the doctors took the tube out of Sharlo’s throat and let her breathe on her own, they expected her to wake any moment. That “moment” stretched into days, the days into weeks. The doctors explained it was merely taking time for the swelling to go down and that her brain seemed to be functioning normally. It didn’t make me feel one goddamned bit better to hear that. Teddy did what he could to work from the hospital until he was required to attend a meeting in London a few days ago. As many times as he tried to get a hold of Sharlo’s mother, she couldn’t be reached by phone or through her family, so I hired Charlie’s personal PI to look into it. So far he hasn’t been able to find a thing on her. It’s like the selfish bitch vanished into thin air. Sofia was forced to return for her internship two days after the accident and caught a ride to the airport with Braden. Hunter and Angie stuck around a few days longer. Charlie left to finish his tour the day after that. Around a week later, Evelyn decided it was too stressful to be around me and left to join her husband in Kansas City. Nolan was the only one to stick around and has been sleeping at Charlie and Evelyn’s beach house. At first I worried he felt an obligation to stay, then I started to appreciate the fact that there was someone to help me get through this shitstorm. I step down from the ring and wipe my face with a towel. The shitty little gym Nolan rents out for a couple of hours each day is stark and cold, not nearly as welcoming as Manny’s, but I don’t have to deal with random dickheads like Freddie Vaughn, and it’s only a ten minute drive to where my entire world remains in the balance. And Nolan’s training helps to harness the anger that rages out of control whenever I think of Peter Sandeen killing my unborn child. “I’m heading down to the city tomorrow to check in on the bar,” Nolan tells me as he slings his gym bag over his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to leave her and I get it, but you should really consider coming along. Evelyn will be back tomorrow night and could let you know if anything changed. It’d do you some good to break away and catch your breath. I hired a Prince tribute band for Saturday night. Someone with Minnesota roots can’t say no to Prince, right?” “I have no interest in making Sharlo think I bailed on her for some wannabe.” Nolan lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head. “Fair enough. Can’t say I didn’t try. I was just hoping to find an excuse for you to shower and shave, maybe even trim that mop on your head.” “I know what you’re trying to do,” I tell him as he starts for the door. It’s as close as I’ll get to thanking him. It’s impossible to be thankful for anything these

days when the one thing I want is out of my reach. “I’m bringing dinner later,” Nolan reminds me before slipping out the door. I shower and change in the gym’s locker room before heading to the hospital on foot. Stepping out into the sweltering summer air does little to slow me down, and I’m by Sharlo’s side in no time. Mere minutes after I arrive, Carrie, one of the regular nurses, comes strolling in with a bright smile. She’s one of the few who doesn’t annoy me and lets me stay in the room when she’s changing Sharlo’s dressings. She always goes out of her way to be nice to me. “Good afternoon, James. It must be hot outside. You look…overheated.” I wipe at my sweaty forehead with the back of my arm before titling my head in Sharlo’s direction. “Any changes?” I ask. “I’m afraid not.” When she moves in behind me to adjust one of the machines, she squeezes my shoulder. “Her vitals are still strong, though. Your girl is one hell of a fighter.” “You don’t know the half of it,” I mumble. Taking Sharlo’s hand in mine, I place a kiss on the back of it before stroking her arm. The doctor encouraged me to talk to her as much as possible. Though it felt a little stupid at first to talk to someone who can’t reply, I’ve convinced myself that my voice is going to bring her back and now I can’t shut up. “Hey, little butterfly. Ready for your exercises? By the way, I kicked Nolan’s ass again today. If he tries to tell you any differently, he’s lying through his teeth.” “God, you’re so sweet,” Carrie tells me, sighing. “I wish I could find a guy that was as loyal as you. Sharlo’s a very lucky lady.” “I’m the lucky one,” I insist, staring down at Sharlo’s pale lips. “I was stupid enough to walk away from her and she took me back. Once she’s awake, you’ll understand why I won’t make that mistake twice. She’s the greatest thing to ever come into my life.” “Ugh, you’re going to make me cry,” she mutters while adjusting something on a machine. All at once I feel Sharlo’s fingers move against mine. I hold my breath as I wait for her to do it again. When she doesn’t, I glance up at Carrie. “She just moved her hand.” “It could be a nerve ending.” She steps in beside me and places a hand over Sharlo’s forehead. “Sharlo, can you hear me? James is here, waiting for you. Come on, sweetie, open your eyes.” “Sharlo, please, baby,” I plead, stroking her hand. “Open your eyes, little butterfly.” My heart slams to a stop when two beautiful blues the shade of the ocean appear.

CHAPTER 22

SHARLO

deep into the most intense tennis match with Fight Club era Brad Pitt, I ’m attempting to distract him with a distastefully short skirt, when I hear my

name spoken in a rather dire way. My brain turns to mush as I struggle to open my eyes. Pain. There’s so bloody much of it. Moaning, I attempt to utter the words to express my wild discomfort, but it would seem some wanker stuffed a load of rocks down my gullet. And what’s with my throbbing head? “Open your eyes, little butterfly.” My stomach flutters about with the sound of the deep voice. I know that voice. I’m finally able to part my heavy eyelids. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust against a harsh light. A beautiful, large man hovers over me with the most delicious beard. Forget Brad Pitt! The sight of this man has my lady bits doing Olympicworthy summersaults. Tears fill his big brown eyes as his lips part. “Jesus Christ, Shar,” he mutters before bending to press his lips against mine. Electric bolts shoot through me with the connection of our mouths. It’s heavenly. His entire body trembles as his warm mouth lingers and his grip on my hand tightens. The way he breathes heavily through his nose, it would seem he’s crying. Wouldn’t expect to see someone big enough to bench a school bus break down in such a fashion. After a beat, his lips trail down to my jaw and his wet face nuzzles the crook of my neck. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” When he repeats the second sentence, it would seem he’s merely convincing himself. What on earth is happening? Why is this man sorry? A suspended ceiling and canned lights linger above me. Am I late for class? My eyes catch on a clear bag and several machines at my side. Fear clenches my insides as I press hard against the man’s large hand. I’m in a hospital bed? But what happened? Am I broken? When I move my legs in an attempt to sit upright, my nether regions blaze with excruciating pain.

“It hurts,” I manage, digging my fingers into the back of the man’s hand. “She’s going to be in a lot of pain,” a woman says. “I’m increasing her drip to make her more comfortable, then I’ll grab the doctor.” Heart fluttering, I bring my free hand to my mouth, brushing my lips with my fingertips. My suffering seems a small price to pay for the lovely kiss. Perhaps if I told the man once more… My eyes close again. Soon the beautiful man and the sterile room drift away.

“Her eyes are opening.”

A warm hand squeezes mine. “Sharlo, it’s me. It’s Dad. I’m here, sweetheart. I took a red-eye so I could talk to my girl.” A slightly gray-haired man comes into view, wearing a rumpled suit. His bloodshot blue eyes evoke misplaced memories of wishes and butterflies flying through the sky. But why is there so much pain? “Are they here?” I ask. The man’s eyebrows squeeze downward. “You mean James and Evelyn? James is here with me.” I close my eyes. James and Evelyn. The names are familiar, but I can’t seem to pinpoint why. “Shar?” the man asks, squeezing my hand. “Do you know who I am?” There’s a quiet pause that follows before the gentle voice of a woman comes from my other side. “Remember, it’s perfectly normal for her to be confused. Her brain is still healing.” “How do you feel?” another man’s voice asks. I peer between my lashes beyond the man holding my hand and find the fit, bearded man from before standing with his arms crossed over his thick chest. A warm, delightful feeling spreads through my insides. “My head,” I say, searching for more words. “We should let her rest,” the woman says. Visions of the beautiful man and a swarm of butterflies fill my head as I drift off to a blissful sleep.

M y eyes open to a gorgeous brunette smiling down on me and stroking my arm. A funny little laugh falls from her lips. If she’s so happy, why is she crying? Are all the people in this place nutters? “Good morning, Shar,” she says. “Holy shit, I missed the hell out of those pretty blue eyes.” Memories flicker through my mind of the woman’s face on a computer screen and her dressed in a beautiful white gown. They’re delightful thoughts that make

me want to smile. My friend. She’s my friend. “Evelyn?” She laughs and bends to plant a tear-laced kiss on my cheek. “Yeah, sweetie, it’s me.” My throat burns and my body aches. Why must I hurt so? “Water,” I plead, bringing my hand to my throat. My friend retrieves a glass from nearby and holds it in front of me until I’ve taken a few swallows through the straw. When I flinch from the throbbing in my skull, her features draw down with worry. “Are you in pain?” I bob my head. “You could say that.” “I’ll be right back,” she promises. “I’m going to grab the doctor and call your dad. He must’ve slept in this morning.” She pats my arm before backing away and leaving me alone. Before looking around, I inhale a deep breath that intensifies the pain. The wretched smell filling my lungs and the incessant beeping noises at my side could only mean one thing: I’m in a hospital. What happened? There’s a tube sticking out from the back of my hand. I try to sit to get a better look at my body. Pain rockets through my head, so I lean back once more and sigh. Before too long, an attractive woman in her 40s wearing a white coat enters the rooms. My breath catches when the beautiful man from earlier trails in behind her. The severity inside his chocolatey gaze sets my heart aflutter and all at once I remember. My fierce protector. My James. As he approaches to take my hand, his wide lips tilt with a sexy, gentle smile. The simple act makes me feel safe. And loved. The woman greets me with a graceful smile. “Good morning, Sharlo. I’m Doctor Harris, your neurosurgeon. It’s good to have you back with us again. Can you tell me on a scale from one to ten the level of pain you’re experiencing, one being mild discomfort and ten being unimaginable?” “I…” I glance between her and James. “Where am I? Have I been here long?” Nothing really makes sense at the moment aside from his warm brown eyes watching me, filled with tenderness. “You’re in the East Hampton Hospital,” the woman answers, linking her hands in front of her. “You’ve been here for three weeks.” Bloody hell. I certainly wasn’t expecting it to have been that long, though I don’t recall James having a beard before. The doctor’s smile fades. “Do you remember what happened?” Meeting James’s stare, I shake my head. My immediate memories simply allow me to remember that I love this man with all my being. His jaw goes to work as his nostrils flare. “You were hit by a car,” he bites out. That would most certainly explain the Humpty Dumpty-type complex overtaking nine-tenths of my body.

“I don’t…I can’t remember,” I confess in a quiet voice. Several confusing thoughts have run through my mind since I first woke, making very little to no tangible sense, like the beeping of the machines creating a familiar tune or the hands of the clock having no particular order. Perhaps this is another anomaly. “The guy’s name is Pete Sandeen,” James continues with cords standing out from his neck. “He worked for your dad but was let go when your dad changed companies. We didn’t know about the connection until the detectives assigned to your harassment case came here to talk to your dad. The asshole was so drunk after he ran you down that he confessed to everything. He’s the one that was harassing you. He wanted to hurt your dad by going after you, only you were too damn stubborn to tell him someone was stalking you. He’s in jail without bond. They’re waiting to sentence him to see…” His eyes draw down and he clears his throat. “They wanted to make sure you were going to be alright. The prosecuting attorney wanted to make sure he was charging him with the right thing.” I’m quiet for a moment, chewing on everything he had to say. The only thing I’m able to dwell on is the fact that Dad came to see me. When did I see him last? “Why does everything hurt?” I ask, turning back to the doctor. “You incurred a number of major injuries,” she explains. As she continues to describe the surgery and how they put me in a coma, James squeezes my hand until it’s numb. Then the surgeon stops to look at James before taking a deep breath. “Sharlo, do you remember that you were pregnant?” I was pregnant, as in past tense? Did I have a child while I was here? Am I a mum? Then it comes to me with blinding clarity. Our baby. The kumquat. A swell of panic all but chokes me. When tears prick my eyes, James releases a muffled cry. “I’m sorry,” the doctor says in a gentle voice. “There was nothing that could’ve been done. The pregnancy was terminated before you arrived.” “I should’ve been there,” James blurts among a hoarse whisper. “I’ll give you two a moment alone,” I hear the doctor say. “No.” The word shoots from my mouth before I can fully think it through. Jumbled thoughts and feelings warring inside my head are as confusing as night and day. I refuse to let him take blame for this. I’d do anything to protect him. The only emotion I’m able to clearly grasp is a ball of red-hot anger, singeing my flesh as it tears a hole through my soul. “He needs to leave.” James stares down on me like he’s been struck. “Shar—” “No.” I interrupt, turning away before he can see the tears in my eyes. “I don’t want you here. I need to be alone.” The doctor moves over to him and sets her hand on his shoulder. “Give her some time.” When James stands and shuffles toward the doorway at the woman’s side, the innate desire to call out to him and beg him to come back to me is swallowed by

something dark and unrelenting. Fury as I’ve never known it before takes up my entire being, inhabiting my bones and rooting in the furthest depths of my brain. Why did this happen to us? Curled into a ball of utter misery and pain, I let the puzzling barrage of feelings spread until I’m fast asleep.

A string of unremarkable days and nights pass before my memories slowly

become a solid timeline of events and I’m able to clearly grasp what has happened in the past few weeks. It was never my intention to cause James more pain. I simply wanted to love him with all of my body and heart, the only way I knew how, and show him what it’s like to be on the receiving end of compassion. I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of having a child until he came back to me, and we had begun to plan for a future that involved the three of us. I was so giddy that I had even sketched out a design for a sleeper that was swathed in crossbones and roses, and begun a queue of names. Then I did the unthinkable by failing to protect our child. Putting all my energy into accepting that I was to become a mum and envisioning James as a happy dad was foolish. My best efforts have been for shit. I was out of sorts when I kicked him out the other day, but perhaps it’s for the best that I remain out of his life. Whenever he looked at me, he’d be reminded of the accident and what could’ve been had I not been struck down. He’d never forgive himself for not protecting me. He’d be so angry at the world that it would become this thing between us that we’d be unable to tame. Among the many memories to return, Evelyn’s declaration of wanting a niece to dote on sears my chest. It’s most difficult to look her in the eye whenever she comes to pay a visit. Although she never mentions the baby or her brother, I feel the unease she’s trying to hide from me in every hesitant movement, every unspoken word. James stays away at my request, though I’ve heard his voice from the hallway and overhead Nolan updating him on my condition when he thought I was asleep. One morning when I wake, I literally have to rub my eyes with both fists, wondering if I’m off-my-tits on narcotics. The woman standing before me is a mere shell of the woman who raised me. Time has not been kind to her aging body and her team of plastic surgeons has been busy nipping and tucking. It’s difficult to assess if the look she’s casting is a grimace or a smile. I suppose given the situation, it could be a bit of each. It’s terrifying to see a reflection of myself in her steel blue gaze. I’d fancy getting hit by a car again over becoming someone as artificial and calloused. Just recently, Dad admitted he wasn’t able to reach her, said she had changed her number. Last he’d heard, she’d run off to Caicos with a new man. “Mum?” I ask, surprised by the rawness of my voice. Seeing a glass of water at

my table side, I stop to sip from the straw. The small effort it takes to set it back down sends a bolt of pain through my pelvis region. “What on earth are you doing here?” At least when her brows draw down and her lips tighten I’m able to read her emotion. “Don’t be ridiculous. My daughter was struck down by a car.” “Yes but last I heard you had run off with your newest flavor of the month.” “His name is Amando.” She crosses the room to sit beside the bed, straightening the sheet beneath my armpits. No hugs, no declaration of love or glad that I’m a mere step above road-kill. It’s what I’ve come to expect every bit as much as the appearance of two little white pills she slips from her purse and swallows dry. Holding back an eye roll of epic proportions, I shake my head. It’d be ridiculous to expect anything more from her after all these years. It takes me back to my childhood, watching her float in and out of lavish rehab facilities where she rubbed shoulders with the likes of washed-up rockstars and actresses. All it accomplished was to get her into exclusive events. “How did you know where to find me?” I ask. “No one had your number.” “Some persistent bloke rung me, said he discovered my whereabouts with the aid of a PI. He was quite crass even though he said he loved you. He was rather insistent that you needed your mum.” James. A warm appreciation strikes my core, reminding me why he would’ve made such an excellent father. He’d do whatever it took to make those he loves happy, even if his efforts were rejected. Even though I was being an asshole, he still was going after what’s best for me. It strikes me with blinding clarity what a wanker I’ve been. James is everything I want in a man without really knowing it’s what I was searching for: kind, loving, sweet, gentle, loyal, and a tiger when it comes to sex. My soulmate, if I can wrap my head around the notion that we’re only meant to procreate with one other being out of the billions roaming this earth. Unable to look me in the eye, Mum smooths back my hair instead. “Please tell me you weren’t foolish enough to fall for the antics of a handsome man, darling. You’re far too young and beautiful to fall prey to the idea that a relationship can last forever.” “I’m twenty-five,” I remind her with more sass than intended. “Despite my neglectful upbringing, I’ve learned there are, in fact, happily-ever-afters, and people are capable of sharing the kind of love that sticks. And, might I add, it seems necessary that I remind you the two of us are nothing alike. I would never turn my back on those I care the most about in favor of a carefree lifestyle involving grossly younger boys who only want my money and an endless supply of Oxy to wash down with ridiculously priced cocktails in the sand.” A pained expression flickers across her face as she lifts her hand, ready to strike my cheek. I close my eyes, willing her to slap some sense back into me for leaving

the love of my life. I essentially followed in her footsteps by shutting him out. I made a grossly miscalculated mistake, and I can only pray to the gods of forgiveness that he’ll overlook the fact that I was a bloody fool. Mum releases a stuttered sigh before I hear the tale-tale click of heels on tile. She left. Again. I refuse to become her by running away from the best thing that ever came into my life.

C arrie, the annoyingly bubbly nurse to answer my page for help, succeeds in

rounding up James in record-breaking moments. A crippling heartache arises from deep within my soul when he appears in the doorway, rigid and hesitant. The thick beard remains and signs of exhaustion soften his normally hard features, standing out more than his blood-shot eyes that probe mine for answers. I’m responsible for this. I single-handedly made him this way. My stomach wrenches with a pain brighter than the one inside my head and a wave of unbearable sadness releases with a loud sob. James marches across the room and draws me into his arms, sniffling in my ear and creating a protective barrier around my body with his tense muscles. My head and the rest of my bruised body scream in pain with each cry, but it’s nothing compared to the misery of my broken heart. It’s most jarring when I find myself at a loss for words, unable to come up with anything that would comfort the tender man holding me. How do I apologize for pushing him away when he needed me most? How many losses does he have to endure? Life’s so unfair, especially when he has to deal with wankers like me. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him in a voice thick with emotion. “This is not on you. It’s my fault I wasn’t there to protect you.” “Don’t be daft. You can’t be there every moment of the day.” I lean away to cradle his face in my hands, wishing there was a way to go back in time and erase the heartache forever imprinted in his gaze. “I didn’t want to hurt you, my love. I merely thought…I’m not exactly sure what I thought, really. I only know I was angry when you and the doctor explained what happened.” “They warned me that people sometimes come out of comas with confusing thoughts, but I didn’t want to believe that it would happen to you. When you kicked me out, I thought you blamed me for the accident.” His eyes flicker away from me. “For losing the baby.” I release too harsh of a laugh. “Are you mad? I pushed you away because I knew you’d try to shoulder the burden of what happened. I worried you’d never be able to let it go. I feared every time you looked at me you’d remember how you felt when I was unconscious. How you felt when you learned I had lost the baby. Kind of the way you can’t look at me right in this moment.” When his eyes meet mine once more they’re lit with sincerity. “The only thing I

see when I look at you is my future. My entire world.” I pull in a deep breath, deeply moved by his devotion. After all I’ve done, how is he still able to say such things? I wouldn’t blame him if he were to make me rise from the bed so he could properly kick me in the arse. “Your world is not on a very stable axis,” I say, fingering the thick hair on his beard. “You poor thing. You must’ve been an utter wreck.” Shaking his head, a quiet chuckle vibrates deep within his throat. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who knows how to turn everything around to make it about someone else. How about we worry about you? I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died, little butterfly. Before the accident, I was so stoked about having you in my life that the idea of that being taken away…” Leaning into my touch, his eyes close as he pulls in a stuttering breath. “I love you so goddamned much. I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” When his eyelids open, the sadness and worry he harbored while I was out becomes raw, tangible. Wincing from its depths, I lean in to press my lips against his. One of his hands cradles the back of my head, his fingers nestling inside my hair. Our mouths open for our tongues to tangle in a slow, tentative pace that fills my heart with pure, radiant love. The sensation of his prickly hairs rubbing against my skin makes the kiss feel different, but the tenderness behind it is delightfully familiar and leaves me aching for more. Unfortunately, my traitorous body is quick to remind me he won’t be able to touch me in the way I want for some time. I draw back, stroking his beard. “Did you ever leave the hospital?” “Not at first. Charlie convinced the nurses to let me stay overnight until someone in administration heard I was sleeping in here. The past week and a half I mostly slept in the waiting room when Nolan wasn’t able to talk me into going back to the beach house. We’ve been hitting a local gym so he can teach me everything he knows about MMA. If he hadn’t stuck around, I don’t know that I would’ve made it this long.” “Nonsense,” I argue with a small smirk. “You’re a fighter, sweetheart. You were born to survive the most dire of circumstances.” “I wouldn’t survive losing you.” “And I was enough of a knobhead to try to push you away.” Racked with guilt, I lean in to brush his lips with mine once more before asking, “I’m sure this is a waste of breath, but did my mum split town?” “I saw her leave the hospital, but I don’t know where she went. She couldn’t have been in here for more than ten minutes. What happened?” “She was simply herself,” I say with a slight shrug. “Don’t let it worry you. Unless you’re able to convince her that she has something to gain by staying and entering rehab, she’ll find some excuse to return to her narcotic-induced bubble of ignorant bliss.” “She’s missing out by not being in your life,” he bites out as his gaze darkens. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. It’s a miracle you turned out the way you did when you were raised by someone that fucking self-centered.”

“Perhaps that’s why you were meant to come into my life. You’ve more than made up for her negligence.” I resume stroking his face and ask, “Your mum must’ve been a kind woman to have raised such a tenderhearted son. Were you always this protective of your loved ones?” “Some really bad shit went down when I was in high school,” he answers with a shake of his head. Then he looks away to the room’s windows overlooking the nurse’s station “I guess it made me realize everyone I care about is vulnerable in one way or another. I started boxing around that time in an attempt to keep my anger in check.” My heart tears with the thought of something happening to young James. “Tell me,” I plead quietly, brushing a thumb across his lips. “What happened, luv?” “Not my story to tell.” He looks back at me with tears in his eyes. “Just know Sofia has her reasons for moving away and for hating the world.” “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, first losing both your mum and dad, now this.” With a shrug of his shoulder, his brilliant smile makes an appearance. “Knowing you’re okay makes everything hurt a little less.” “Do you remember the night I told you I’m no good at relationships?” When he dips his chin with a nod, I say, “Apparently my skills still require improvement. I wasn’t exactly raised with the best role model. Promise you’ll stick by my side, even when I’m a buffoon and unable to remember that as long as I’m with you, it’s impossible to want for something more. I mean it, James. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have caught you for whatever reason. Please don’t ever allow me to forget that fact.” “I promise to never let you go,” he whispers before returning to my lips.

CHAPTER 23

SHARLO

the weeks following my release from the hospital, I’m overwhelmed with I ndaily sessions with the persistent physical therapist hired by Dad, a barrage of

visits from well-meaning family and friends, and the transition from wheelchair to wheeled cart to cane. Though I’ve been offered enough painkillers to knock-out James and the whole lot of his new fighting friends, I’ve decided to work through the pain au natural based on Mum’s unhealthy history with painkillers, leading to sleepless nights and long days wrought with frustration. The fact that James has stuck by my side as promised should elevate him to sainthood in no time. It’s as if we’ve switched places where I’m suddenly the moody bloke and he’s doing everything in his power to make me happy. Considering James is essentially homeless and I have no desire to return to my flat where the nightmare began, we’re fortunate to ride out the remainder of the summer on Charlie and Evelyn’s good graces, only having to share the beach house on the weekends with Katie and her mildly disgusting boys. When it comes time to getting around, I’m especially grateful for the layout intended to accommodate their wheelchair-bound mother. While James seeks his own kind of therapy through the gym with Nolan as well as a highly recommended psychologist specializing in anger management, I’m left struggling with the loss of our baby in my own way. By the time Sofia comes to visit on holiday in the Hamptons over Labor Day, I’m well beyond due for a night with the girls. Sofia, Evelyn, and Katie arrive with bags upon bags of food loaded with GMOs and sugar. For a several hours, the beach home takes on the personality of a hen house the way our voices and cackles float up to the rafters as we finish off a bottle of Jameson. Nothing can take away the dire situation of one’s life better than drunken conversations with good mates about fit celebrities and their asinine behaviors, especially when Evelyn is able to dish some of the gossip first-hand. “I had an abortion in high school,” Sofia blurts out of nowhere. Katie, Evelyn, and I simultaneously turn to gape at where she sits on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. She looks so unaffected that I expect her to admit she was joking.

“What?” Evelyn whispers. Sofia looks down at her glass with tears spilling down her cheeks. “It started out as an innocent date to the drive-inn. Bobby was a year older and really popular, so I was crazy excited that he agreed to go out with me because I was the quiet type. Later on, we got a case of beer and parked behind the Catholic church. I got uncomfortable when he tried to pull my underwear down and asked him to take me home, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I cried the entire time. A couple months later I realized I was pregnant. I couldn’t keep the baby…it was too hard.” Evelyn appears white when she sets her drink down on the end table. “You mean Bobby Krager? Holy shit, Sof! Did Mom take you to the doctor?” “I couldn’t tell her,” Sofia answers, shaking her head over and over. “She was going through chemo at the time, and she would’ve been so disappointed in my decision. I had a fake ID saying I was twenty but the clinic in Minneapolis made me arrange for someone to drive me home after the procedure. I asked James because I knew he was the only one in the family who would help me without telling Mom and Dad. That’s just how he was—always quiet and minding his own business. I made him promise he wouldn’t tell Bobby that he knew what happened either. He was so pissed that he started random fights at school and almost got expelled. Dad’s friend Cupp decided to teach James how to box. He stopped getting into trouble at school, but he never let what happened go because it was his idea for me and Bobby to hook up. They played football together and James talked him into taking me out. Of course he wouldn’t have known what Bobby was going to do, but he never forgave himself for what happened. It’s my fault he’s the way he is. If I hadn’t told him—” “Nonsense,” I scold, crossing the room to pat her hand. “You were a victim. Your brother has a protective way about him that would’ve eventually come to light on its own even if you hadn’t gone through something so horrific.” But my heart squeezes all the same, and it’s quite difficult not to become a puddle of tears. It’s no wonder my poor love has always been so overly protective and ready to take on everyone else’s heartache as his own. “Sof,” Evelyn breaths among a choked cry. “I can’t believe you never told Angie…or me.” Sofia wipes at her wet face before meeting her sister’s helpless look. “I couldn't tell you, Ev. You were so young when it happened. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like this, I just…I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I figured you guys deserve to know.” Katie’s eyes burn with anger when she asks, “Did you at least tell the cops so that little shit wouldn’t do it again to some other poor girl?” “Back then I thought…” With a forced laugh, Sofia wipes at her face again and looks away. “I somehow thought that kind of thing naturally happened when someone agreed to go on a date. In my pubescent mind I figured he was someone I knew, so it was okay. Now I definitely know better and that’s why I want to become a prosecutor and put assholes like Bobby in jail.”

Evelyn runs to her sister and flings her arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sof!” At first I think Sofia, the most uptight of the Kendall family, is going to tell her little sister to bugger off. Then her face softens, and she ducks her face into Evelyn’s neck. The two of them are shaking with tears as Katie joins in, rubbing the sisters’ backs and whispering something I’m unable to hear. Thoughts of my sweet James forced to keep his sister’s brutal secret all this time makes me want to join their lot and have a proper cry. Instead, I scurry around the corner to the wet bar, knowing it’s going to take something strong to get through this night. I retrieve four shot glasses before pulling Charlie’s prized hundred dollar bottle of tequila from the cupboard. Before I have time to pour the drinks, I hear the back door open and turn in time to see James step inside, hair and gym attire mussed from a workout. Flashing one of his splendid grins fit for a god, his hands rise in front of his chest. “I know I’m not supposed to be here on girls’ night. I’m just stopping to shower and change before meeting up with the guys.” When there’s a loud sob from the adjoining room, he bends to peer around the corner at his sisters and Katie. “What’s with them?” Between his knicker-wetting body, still somewhat slick with perspiration, and the stabbing pains of empathy raking my chest, I’m unable to hold back and make a mad dash for him, throwing myself into his burly arms. Despite my tears, I almost come on the spot with his post-workout musk that never fails to drive me completely nutters. “Whoa,” he says among a chuckle before kissing the top of my head. “What’s wrong?” “Sofia told us everything!” I cry into his hard, clammy chest. “Just when I thought it wasn’t possible to love you any more I hear of the hell you put yourself through in keeping her secret! I want nothing more than to transport back in time and tuck young James away in a bloody bubble!” “Don’t cry for me, little butterfly. I have you,” he whispers, stroking my back. “Sofia’s the one who needs someone to love her the way you love me.” “My god you’re too sweet to be real,” I profess, drawing away to nuzzle against his cheek. I drag my lips along his recently shaven jaw until I meet his warm, needy mouth. Then, breathless, I draw away to add, “I don’t suppose I can convince you to take me to the bedroom and have your way?” Digging his fingers into my ass, he makes one of his growling noises. “Not until the doctor says your body is ready.” “Off you go then. Once you’ve had your fun with Nolan and Charlie, you can bring them back to hang with us girls." Sliding my fingertips beneath the edge of his T-shirt, I grin. “Don’t tell anyone, but there’s an unwritten rule stating girls’ night can be interrupted for a proper dosage of eye candy.” Though his eyes narrow, his lips quirk with a playful smile. “I better be the only flavor of candy you enjoy.”

“You have no idea,” I whisper.

Several weeks later, as we’re rolling down the streets of Brooklyn Heights, my big,

brave protector looks a bit out of sorts driving the economy sized rental car. Still, it’s hard not to feel a sense of pride the way he navigates through the neighborhood as if he’s lived here his whole life rather than months. If I have anything to say about it, we’ll live out the remainder of our lives here together, raising a whole lot of miniature Kendalls. The Hamptons are quite lovely, and I’ve enjoyed every minute we’ve had the luxurious beach house to ourselves, but it will never beat the familiar cobblestone streets and feeling of community I get from being home—home being a relatively loose term as I intend to give Richard notice that I’m permanently moving out of the flat just as soon as I’ve mustered the courage. The sinister side of me wishes to rile James and unleash him for the deed, knowing Richard would likely soil himself if a threat of any caliber were to be made. Since we left the beach house, James has been driving below the speed limit and nearly slowing to a complete stop with every turn or bump in the road. Though I don’t normally care to be treated like a crystal vase, I appreciate how hard he’s trying to avoid creating any added pain to my healing body. Little does he know, I’ve been cleared to shag to my heart’s content so long as I can tolerate any pain it may cause. While I’ve done what I can to elevate James’s sexual frustration, he refuses to go anywhere near my pelvic region, apparently worried he’ll undo the healing or whatever voodoo has settled in his stubborn head. I’m worried he’ll leave me no choice other than to tie him up and have my way. Though I don’t ask why we’re a dozen blocks from my flat, the moment we’re parked beside a row of early 19th-century Federal houses, a bolt of curiosity hits me square in the stomach. “I’ve always loved this neighborhood,” I comment in a high voice, undoing my seatbelt before joining him on the sidewalk. I’ve been in the area several times as a friend from the university recently purchased a home just down the block. There’s a decade-long queue of hopeful tenants wanting to get into the buildings that line the river. “Are you going to fill me in on whatever it is you're up to?” “Just wait until you see the view from the balcony,” he tells me with a wicked grin, taking my hand before throwing me a knicker-melting wink. My neglected vagina perks to life, begging me to take him here and now on this sidewalk. To hell with witnesses—perhaps we could do them the service of educating them on proper love making. “Have you found somewhere that rents by the hour?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously. He’s unable to answer before a smart-dressed woman appears in one of the doorways. It takes a moment for my brain to register that it’s Carrie, the bubbly

nurse who was always trying to brighten my day while I was in the hospital. “Sharlo!” she gushes with enough enthusiasm to gag a saleswoman at Saks. “You look amazing! It’s so awesome to see you again!” “Likewise!” I answer, trying to muster the same level of zest. Seems James was busy making friends while I was out. Pretty ones, I might add, even though I’m not normally the type to let jealousy rear its foolish head. Carrie holds the mission-style door wide and motions for us to hurry. “Come on in!” I eye the set of stairs separating us and sigh. I’ve come a long way in my recovery, but stairs still remain a bit of a bitch. “We’ll meet you inside,” James tells her in a slightly dismissive tone. Carrie nods knowingly before disappearing behind the door. All at once James sweeps me into his arms, carrying me up the stairs like a small child. I giggle rather than telling him to set me down, knowing he won’t take “no” for an answer even if his chivalry makes me feel like a fool. I’ve learned since devoting myself to James that most things are not worth a fight unless they’re rewarded with an earthshattering orgasm. “Is there a reason we’re paying a house call to Nurse Carrie?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He merely smirks in return as we climb the last of the steps. Once we’re through the front door he sets me down, releasing me with a knicker-wetting kiss. I’m dizzy as I give the place a proper look. It’s empty and open, reminding me of Evelyn and Charlie’s beach house, and seems to have recently undergone a makeover. New bamboo flooring stretches into each visible room and the faint smell of paint rolls off the white walls. Tall windows on the far side of a cozy sitting room with a fireplace give an awe-inspiring view of the Manhattan skyline. Nurse Too-Bloody-Perky is nowhere to be seen as James leads me through the main floor into more empty rooms and a quaint galley kitchen equipped with new appliances and arts and craft style cupboards. It’s drool-worthy, really, and has me dreaming what it would be like to live in such a beautiful place with a prime location. I turn to James, pursing my lips in a pout. “It’s quite lovely, but you’re not going to give me any sort of hint what we’re doing here, are you?” “The best part is yet to come,” he whispers, again sweeping me off my feet and whisking me up an open stairway leading to the second floor. He doesn’t set me down until we’re through a set of French doors inside a large bedroom and standing on a wide balcony with a phenomenal front-row seat to the Brooklyn Bridge. The sight before me literally steals my breath away. It’s akin to the view I’ve come to adore while sitting in the cemetery beside the grave of the mystery woman. It reminds me of everything I love about living in the country’s best city. Not only that, but the balcony is cute as shit with well-tended potted plants and matching Adirondack chairs. It’s difficult not to fall hard and fast for the adorable little home as I picture what it would be like to wake at James’s side with the heart of the city

just beyond our reach. “Say the word and it’s ours,” James whispers behind me. It’s hard as hell to focus on the view when I’m merely focused on freeing the hard cock pressed to my back. “Are you mad?” I whisper. “Something like this is nearly impossible to procure!” “It belonged to Carrie’s grandmother. She hasn’t put it on the market yet.” His arms enclose around me, and his lips graze along my neckline. “I was offered a contract by Nolan’s MMA organization. They saw my fight with Freddie, and they want to pay me big money, little butterfly. Your dad is loaning us the downpayment until I have the cash in hand.” “Sweetheart, that’s wonderful!” I spin to throw my arms around his neck and allow him to carefully lift me into the air, throwing myself a silent cheers when the motion doesn’t hurt enough to wince. Though it will be hell on my nerves to watch him fight over and over, I know it’s what he wants and he’s been working so hard to make happen. Since starting therapy, training has become a way for him to destress and he actually seems a bit lighter after his training with Nolan. “But I still have a contract with Richard,” I realize. “I already worked it out with that prick,” he rumbles, leaving me to believe their encounter led to an unpleasant row. “Nolan’s been helping me arrange everything while you were busy with therapy. Your things are packed and ready to go. ” Oh, this man! My man! How can I ever get enough? The answer is never, and my randy body is ready to seal the deal. It’s been far too long since we’ve been able to scratch the ever present itch I feel when in his presence. “What do you think?” Carrie asks, suddenly emerging from the bedroom. “We’ll take it,” I declare, peering at her over James’s shoulder. “There’s an added bonus in it for you if you give us time to enjoy the view alone. Preferably right this moment.” James is kissing me before I’ve heard Carrie’s answer. His hungry lips convey every last one of his emotions, mirroring my own. There was a time I was convinced our love was doomed and I’m unable to believe how far we’ve come—even in the literal sense. There was a time I didn’t believe the beastly protector would have room in his heart to care for someone outside of his family. I didn’t think the universe would allow us to have our happily ever after. The way his lips travel across my jaw and down my neck, suckling at my skin like a starved man as his fingers meld into my hair, it seems safe to assume the poor man is just as eager to shag after all these weeks of holding back. When I reach for the buckle on his trousers, he becomes still. “What are you doing?” he asks, his warm breath on my neck causing a party of shivers to sashay down to my lady-bits. I hook one arm behind his neck and tug at his hair, forcing him to face me. “The doctor gave his blessing, therefore I believe it’s considered bad manners to resist your lover’s advances, no matter how noble you believe you’re being. If you don’t

take care of me soon, I’ll be forced to replace you with a boyfriend of the batteryoperated variety.” Eyes wide, he reaches down to tug at my shorts, then my knickers. “You’re not replacing me with shit. I’ll always take care of you, little butterfly. Always.” It turns out to be another perk of the adorable little home that we’re out of sight of any neighbors when we both strip down to nothing with a speed that would put the most skilled of firefighters to shame. Again we’re drawn together for a kiss that’s so sweet and filled with compassion that it makes big, fat tears fill my eyes. With the feeling of his thick fingers brushing back and forth over my throbbing sweet spot before pressing deep inside of me, I tilt my head back to face the beautiful blue sky and release a noise that comes out sounding like a garbled cry. It’s been too damn long since he’s touched me this way. “Babe?” he asks, always the great protector. “That feels bloody marvelous,” I answer. “Don’t you dare stop.” The strokes of his fingers increase to a steady space, caressing me until I’m lit with delight. An explosion of pleasure rakes my body so hard and fast that I’m unable to hold back when I scream his name. Laughing in a bright, happy noise that I’ve been privileged to hear more often with each passing day, James holds a hand over my mouth before kissing the tender spot behind my jaw. “The neighbors aren’t going to be ready for us,” he whispers. “Turn around. I want you to remember this moment every time you look at the city.” My body’s still vibrating from the beautiful orgasm when I do as he says, carefully spreading my legs as far as the residual pain will allow. He enters me from behind, slow and gentle. The feeling is more divine than anything I’ve known, causing me to moan like one of those B-movie porn stars. “Am I hurting you?” James asks among a stuttered breath. “Stop worrying and let me enjoy this,” I beg, pushing my ass into him. Once he’s pushed all the way inside, I grasp the railing on the balcony and sigh dreamily. “My god. What could I have possibly done to deserve you?” His finger tilts my chin back until I meet his beautiful brown eyes, overflowing with a tender look that can only be interpreted as eternal love. “You were the first person to believe in me.” A half-baked image involving rainbows and chirping birds slips through my brain but then he rocks against me and erases months of sexual frustration, causing me to forget everything except for the fact that I love this man to bits. And I have the rest of my life to prove to him he’s worth more than he could possibly know.

EPILOGUE NINE MONTHS LATER

JAMES s we near the large concrete building surrounded by razor-wired fences and A watch towers, my lungs threaten to cave in. If it weren’t for Sharlo’s hand firmly

wrapped around mine, I’d likely pussy-out and start back for the rental. Then again, knowing I’m about to parade my beautiful girl in front of a bunch of low-life convicts creates a gnawing burn in my gut that makes me want to call it off anyway. In a long skirt and loose-fitting tank top it’s not like she’s purposely showing anything off—not that she would normally—but there’s no hiding her curves and she always looks sexy as shit in anything…or nothing. “Remember what Doctor Gotz said, luv,” she tells me as we approach the gate. “This will be a monumental step toward healing.” As if I need a reminder why we’re here. Ever since we boarded the plane for our visit to Blue River for the holiday, I’ve been busy telling myself Sharlo insisted I follow through with counseling before we talk marriage or try for another baby, so backing out isn’t an option. I’d swallow a ball of fucking fire if that’s what it took for her to agree to be my wife. That’d be a walk in the park compared to what we’re about to do. Turning to face me, Sharlo grabs my shirt in her small fists. Her smile is supposed to be reassuring, but her lips tremble enough that I can tell she’s just as nervous. “Make it through this, and I’ll surprise you with one of those kinky contraptions you were eyeballing in Queens last weekend. Just don’t expect anything too outlandish. My bum was literally quaking with the sight of those rubber fists.” If it weren’t for the acid coating my gut, I’d be laughing when I kiss her. After checking in through the visitor’s entrance, we’re led to a sterile room with nothing other than a metal table and set of worn chairs. Sharlo sits by my side and draws patterns on the back of my hand, distracting me enough that I start to get hard when remembering how she attacked me in my childhood bedroom the night before, bringing all my teenage fantasies to life. Ever since she fully healed from

the accident several months back, we’ve rekindled our insatiable appetites for sex. Some days she’s even hornier than I am, but even after a grueling day of training with Nolan, I’m unable to turn her down. Her body’s a drug that I have no plans of ever quitting. “Here we go,” she whispers when the door swings open, gripping my arm tight with her little fingers as if to keep me from jumping up and losing my shit. Digging my fingers into my thighs, I grind my teeth together. Uncle Orin shuffles in alongside a guard, looking ten years older than he appeared the last time I saw him at Dad’s funeral. His long face is pale and filled with deep wrinkles that make him nearly unrecognizable, and his sandy hair has turned stark white. The orange uniform and handcuffs almost look comical on his frail frame. It’s almost impossible to believe this is the same man who taught me how to change the oil on a tractor. The same buddy of my Dad’s who could be found sitting next to his brother at the bar on any given Friday night. The same uncle who never missed one of my home football games. His dark eyes flicker up to meet mine when he takes the seat across the table, and all at once I see Dad reflected in his image. The urge to get the fuck out of the room becomes paralyzing when I wet my lips and try forcing my lungs to function. “Didn’t figure on seeing you ever again when you didn’t come to any of my hearings,” he mumbles. “Heard you moved to New York. What the hell kinda business does a farm boy have in a city that big?” Sweat beads across my hairline as I stare into his ruthless gaze. Every breath I take sounds magnified. This is even harder than I had imagined. What do I say to the man that killed my dad? Glancing at Sharlo, I rub my sweaty palms on my knees. She turns to my uncle, stabbing her pointer finger in his direction. “Listen here, Orin Kendall. This beautiful, tortured soul sitting beside me is the love of my life, and we’re here in an attempt to get on with our future and start a family—one that you robbed of a wonderful, caring grandfather. You will sit there with your mouth shut and listen to what your nephew has to say about the vile thing you did to him and the rest of your family. If you say one word other than you’re sorry, I swear to you I’ll use my father’s connections to make your already pathetic existence in this facility a living hell. Trust me when I say you don’t want to find out the twisted fuckery someone like me is capable of bringing into your life. Nod if you understand me.” Uncle Orin seems to have a hard time swallowing when he bobs his head several times. The beefy guard behind him bites down on his lips before clearing his throat like he’s trying to hide a bout of laughter. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” Sharlo prods in a whisper, turning to squeeze my hand underneath the table. “The sooner you get this over with, the sooner it will be done and we can get the hell out of this nightmare. Think of it as ripping a band-aid off a rather disgusting, festering wound.” Remembering the plans I have for her as soon as we’re out of here, I squeeze her

hand back and nod. When my eyes draw back up to Uncle Orin, my heart thumps hard enough to make me lightheaded. Using Sharlo’s meditation techniques that I once thought were bullshit, I take a deep breath and focus on the deep crease between my uncle’s eyes. Other than with Sharlo, I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings, so I tell myself the words are more for her benefit than my uncle’s. “When I found Dad that night…left to bleed out on his bedroom floor…I vowed that I’d kill whatever low-life scum did that to him. Now that I’m sitting here, seeing you for the pathetic piece of shit you really are, I don’t feel the urge to hurt you like I always thought I would. You’re not the same man I spent my summers working for as a kid, bailing hay and walking beans. You’re not the uncle who gave me toy tractors for Christmas or danced with my mom at the surprise wedding anniversary party you and Aunt Jackie threw them before Mom got sick. “Greed changed you. You and Dad…you were doing better than you ever dreamed you’d make farming, but it was never enough, was it? Money became a priority over your family. It’s what drove Aunt Jackie away. It’s what made you kill your own goddamned brother. All because you were trying to cheat the government out of even more money with those bullshit conservation reports. I don’t hate you because that’d be a waste of energy. But I do feel sorry for you. The rest of us will never get over losing Dad, but at least we have the chance to go on with our lives and find a way to be happy. While you rot in this place, you’ll be forced to dwell on the decisions you made that brought you here. I hope the memories of what you did to my dad keep you awake at night.” Suddenly I’m struck with a need to puke. Saying the words that have been weighing heavily on my mind since he was found guilty several months back took more out of me than I could’ve expected. Unable to say anything more, I shoot to my feet but don’t look away from the old man hunched across front of me, crying inside his pale hands. I’m surprised the fucker has any feelings left to be hurt. “Right then,” Sharlo says quietly, standing at my side. “Enjoy wallowing in a lifetime of regret over the pain you’ve caused your family.” Leaving the prison goes by in a fucked-up blur. I’m still sweaty and shaky from confronting Uncle Orin when we get inside the car. I can’t say how I actually make it back toward Blue River when my mind is anywhere other than on the road. Truth be told, before we head to my cousin Levi’s lake home where we’ll spend the remainder of the day with my siblings and watch fireworks, I’m eager as shit to get Sharlo alone. Especially the way she’s playing with my hand from the passenger’s seat as she sings along with the radio, stopping every now and then to kiss my hand or arm. She knows me well enough not to say anything. She knows I’ll speak when I’m ready. After living together for over a year, we know each other even better than we know ourselves. Can’t say I feel any better now that I’ve ticked off the final box on Sharlo’s list of demands, but as we get closer to the pit, the corners of my mouth lift with a smirk. Even though our time together has been filled with more pain and loss than I

thought I’d know in a lifetime, I’ve never been as happy as I am in this moment. “Know where you are yet?” I ask her as we head down the gravel driveway. “I believe so,” Sharlo comments, sitting taller to get a better look. “Isn’t this the place where you once got me intoxicated on cheap wine all the while pretending you didn’t want to shag the hell out of me?” “You bought the wine,” I remind her with a chuckle, “and there was no pretending on my part. I spent half the night trying to hide a hard-on.” As I park near the same spot I had that fateful night, she looks at me with both eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Lucky for me it’s not possible to detect a lady boner because I sprung one for you the moment I walked into that shed and saw you sparring with your mate.” “Lady boner?” I repeat, shaking my head. A laughing fit hits me hard and fast until my eyes water and my stomach muscles clench tight as the deep sound vibrates against my chest. Shit, I can’t remember ever laughing this hard, though there have been plenty of carefree moments like this since Sharlo came into my life. Looking over at the beautiful, sweet woman at my side that smells like vanilla, tastes like heaven, and always knows how to make me laugh, I’m struck with just how fucking lucky I am to have her as mine. Without her in my life, I don’t know how I would’ve made it past Dad’s death. I’d still be angry at the world and stuck on the farm, following someone else’s dream. Whatever decisions or fate brought us together, I’ll always be thankful. I love this woman with all my heart and can’t wait for us to start the rest of forever together.

SHARLO

W atching my love laugh until he’s heaving for breaths is one of the best visuals

in the world, only second to watching him fall apart with pleasure. In recent months, my James has become a different person of sorts, though every now and then his surly side will return for an encore. Can’t say I mind it so much when the beast is unleashed in the bedroom. Besides, if I wanted someone soft I would’ve given the lesbian thing a go at the university when given the chance. Once James is able to collect himself, he wipes at his eyes before grabbing a bag from the back seat and motioning for me to follow him out of the car. “I want to show you something,” he says, all at once back in a somber mood. This “pit” of his grandfather’s has taken on a transformation of its own since our last visit. Vivid colors surround us from the grass to a set of cherry blossom trees and the blue sky reflected on the small pond. It’s a beautiful, warm summer day and the birds are as noisy as shit as they float about between the tall oak trees. As much as I fancy the excitement of our home in Brooklyn, this certainly has its own charm. I can almost picture us living— Strike that. I seem to have some kind of animal dung stuck to the bottom of my

sandal. “Bloody savages,” I mutter to myself, stopping to search for a stick to wipe it away. All at once I’m hoisted into the air and thrown over James’s very thick shoulder as he marches toward the water. “You were taking too long,” he teases over my cries of protest. “Perhaps next time you can warn me to wear the proper footwear before we go traipsing through god’s country.” Merely chuckling in response, he continues on. Moments later I’m gently set on my feet and he’s kissing me in a desperate way that reminds me of that lovely night we finally gave into our desires in this very spot all those months ago. Lost in the fresh smells of the great outdoors and my man, I hum happily and lose my fingers inside his thick hair, ready to pull him down into the tall grass. Drawing back, he shakes his head and laughs again. Nothing could be sexier than my man with ruffled hair and puffy lips unless, of course, he wasn’t wearing a lick of clothing. “You’re insatiable,” he tells me. “It’s not my fault. Have you ever taken the time to actually look at your reflection?” “Close your eyes,” he whispers, lacing his fingers with mine. “Only if you promise to be naked once I open them again.” “Shar,” he teases in a mock-angry tone. Huffing in mock-hurt, I close my eyes and a moment later he’s kissing each of my lids. “Keep them closed.” “So demanding.” I feel him move away from me. I hear the sounds of a zipper and the crinkling of plastic as I stand in utter darkness, waiting for whatever surprise will make my temporary discomfort worthwhile. Soon a tart citrus scent penetrates the air as James tells me to hold out my hands. Doing as he says, I click my tongue. “Keep in mind whatever you’re about to do could bite you in the arse later tonight when it comes down to you or my vibrating companion.” “I’m confident you’ll choose me,” he whispers, his lips temptingly close to my ear. They brush across my cheek before he pulls away and places a cold, light object in each of my hands. “Stand still.” Several minutes pass as I wait for him to end this ridiculous game. When that doesn’t happen, I blow out a loud breath through my nose and shift my weight. “Are you still there, or am I to expect a YouTube video of my humiliation to go viral?” “A little bit longer, baby. You can do it.” His voice comes from far enough away that I begin to grow more suspicious than paranoid. I’m ready to blurt the secret I’ve been holding on to for the past week

when he finally utters the words I’ve been waiting to hear. “You can open them now, little butterfly.” The first thing I see is his beautiful face, lit with a giant smile that makes my chest burn with love. Whatever has made him so pleased with himself has me wetter than a cheap T-shirt clinging to a slag at a frat party. Noticing something in the corner of my eye fluttering about, I glance down at my hands and gasp. Too many monarch butterflies to count perch on top of orange halves. My heart slams to a halt when I notice a thick silver band peering out from the center of the fruit on the left. A butterfly sits atop a rather large princess-cut diamond attached to the band. I nearly choke on a surprised cry when James removes the fruit from my hand and lowers down to one knee in front of me, the ring held between his thumb and fingers. “Baby, I’ve been possessed by you ever since the first time you called me your ‘love’ even though we had never met before. You’re so damn kind, and intelligent, and funny, and fucking gorgeous, and filled with a beautiful spirit that everyone around you can’t help but love. You took a chance on a moody asshole even though at first I wasn’t worthy of your love. When we lost our baby a year ago, and I was worried you weren’t going to make it either…” Looking down, he tries several time to clear his throat. “I know, sweetheart,” I whisper in a choked voice, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather skip over that part and get to the good stuff.” Laughing through tears, he removes my hand from his shoulder to place a kiss on my fingers. “God, I love you more than you can imagine, little butterfly. You’re everything I could ever want or need to make me happy in this lifetime and the next. You’ve brought out the best in me and I plan on spending the rest of life my showing you how thankful I am for that.” Blinking his watery eyes, his lips spread with a bright smile. “Sharlo Ray Rockford, will you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?” “You bet your gorgeous, tight ass I will!” I respond, holding my ring finger out. Not surprisingly, the band’s a perfect fit as he probably had his sister play a hand in finding the proper size. It’s hardly in place for a full second before I literally jump his bones, pushing him down into the tall grass before destroying his lovely lips and searching for the button to undo his cargo shorts. “Wait,” he says, stopping me. His eyes are dilated and swarming with lust when he smirks. “I brought some of that Boone’s Farm you liked. Figured we could celebrate in style before shagging the hell out of each other.” I burst out laughing when his eyebrows wiggle suggestively with the term I’d never heard him use before now. Playful James is still a bit of an anomaly, though most certainly something I fancy. “That’s a lovely thought,” I say, “but I’m going to take every precaution necessary to ensure this little nugget has a fighting chance at being ‘normal’, whatever that means.” I reach down to pat my belly between us and grin. “Poor

thing will have a difficult go the way it is with a mum that’s likely to forget where she set him down last.” James’s eyes widen until they appear ready to burst from their sockets. “You’re —” “Eight weeks,” I answer, bending to rub our noses together. “I wanted to be sure everything was aces before I told you. The doctor gave two thumbs up, said there’s no reason why I shouldn’t have a perfectly normal pregnancy.” I kiss my way down to his cheek before nipping on his earlobe. “That sort of thing was bound to happen after two people in crazy love got wasted at a Thrashtag concert and made love for three hours straight afterwards, forgoing the need for contraceptives.” Brushing my lips over the edge of his ear, I whisper, “You’re going to be a daddy, my love.” ###

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR If you enjoyed James and Sharlo’s story, please take a quick moment to leave a review on Goodreads and Amazon. You can’t imagine how much I appreciate your time and support! COMING SOON To be notified when Sofia and Nolan’s story, Manhattan Millionaire, is available, sign up for my newsletter. I promise not to be all spammy. Join my street team for exclusive giveaways and random fun: Jennifer Ann’s Rockstars

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ADAM’S LIST

ONE

THE OLD HOUSE BUZZES with angry rock, brazen laughter, and occasional screams from girls; it’s an audio explosion of brass sounds that once again make me question my agreement to come in the first place. Smoke irritates my nose, some of it smelling like the green variety. The “no smoking” sign near the entrance is clearly more of a loose suggestion than a rule as I’m pretty sure I’ve seen over a dozen people with lit cigarettes in hand, some of them among the guys hosting the party. A thick haze drifts through the room above the crowd, the smell even more robust than the cheap keg beer. Sticky goop, probably a mix of spilled beer and strawberry margarita mix, covers the bottom of my newly purchased wedges, making a sick, sucking noise whenever I move my feet. Empty red solo cups litter every crevice of the room, apparently because we’re in college and no one can make us follow our parents’ rules. The crowd’s an odd combination of jocks, hipsters, preps, and kids who don’t belong, like me. At least not anymore. An oversexed freshman who’s built like Jonah Hill—pre-diet—grinds up against me every few minutes, even though I’m nowhere near the area designated as the dance floor. I’m not amused. Clearly, my desire to be alone isn’t obvious by standing in the least active corner of the house. Ladies and gentlemen, this is my life. Or it has become my life anyway, ever since the powers-that-be decided I was way too happy and secure, deciding to give me a healthy dose of reality to choke on. My reflection stares back at me from an old beer sign on the wall. The narrow nose and dark blond eyelashes I inherited from my mom appear exaggerated in the warped glass. The cornflower blue eyes I inherited from my dad have lost their luster, although it could just be the low lit room overpowering their normal vibrance. But who am I kidding. My lips are perpetually cracked because I don’t care enough to drink enough water or keep applying balm. The long, curly locks spilling well past my breasts are in serious need of not only a brushing, but also a touch-up at the roots. Because I’m too lazy to call the salon for an appointment, and quite

frankly, I don’t give a shit. I wasn’t always a fun hater. I had it all in high school. I was a cheerleader with shining blond hair straight out of a L'Oréal commercial, and a killer body that every guy wanted to sack. My long-term sweetheart, Jason, was at the top of the girls’ lists for hotties, and just happened to be the star quarterback. Every girl either wanted to be me, or hated my guts because of my perceived perfection. The social world was at my fingertips. I was living the high life as our school’s queen bee. I don’t think anyone was neither sympathetic nor surprised when I was so unceremoniously knocked down. I look away from the mirror, down to the cup in my hands filled with flat beer. Until recently, I was usually among the typical party girls you see at these kinds of things, slamming down shots of vodka and tequila just as quickly as they’re handed out. I would’ve possibly hooked up with some random guy, and woke in a strange room the next morning. Then my depression meds were kicked up a notch at my mom’s request. Now I’m just kind of numb to life. Taking a pill doesn’t magically make a person’s mental health better. It doesn’t take away all the hurt and anguish over something that forever changed you. The alcohol doesn’t mix with the drugs—I know this— but sometimes I just need to mask the pain of my past. I simply go through the motions of each day, going to classes, work, and letting my best friend drag me to these stupid parties, meanwhile waiting for a booty call from my current fling. I have no drive, no vision of what I want to do with my life. Some days I really don’t care if things ever change. Other days I think I’d be doing the universe a favor if I just didn’t wake up in the morning. You will become what you deserve. Did some ingenious poet with a MFA say that, or was it something I saw on Pinterest? I dump my drink into a half-dead fern in the corner that’s doubling as an ash tray, and check my phone for the billionth time in the last ten minutes. As usual, my best friend/roommate/wing-woman, Kelly, has become MIA, most likely hooking up on her way to the bathroom. Before I can leave in search of her, I’m approached by someone so incredibly tall that he’s possibly headlining in the circus. His dark eyes fall on me, filled with that drunken haze most guys get after a healthy dose of hard alcohol. His short, reddish-blond hair looks messy from some kind of playful scuffle with a buddy. The gray t-shirt he dons with the school’s logo and mascot plastered across the front looks wet from mid-chest down, most likely the result of a spilled beverage. “Hey, beautiful,” he coos in a deep voice. Yep. This is about to happen. “Hey, random, drunk guy,” I answer, folding my arms over Kelly’s red shirt that shows far too much. One of these times I’ll stand up against her brash orders on what I can and can’t wear to these nightmares. These days I’m most comfortable in things that cover every inch of my skin, like a moo-moo or a snowsuit.

He leans against the wall at my side, grinning in the cheesy way really cocky guys do when they think they’re being charming. “What are you doing here all alone, sweet thing?” “Oh, you know. Trying to avoid anyone who thinks because I’m standing here alone that it’s an open invitation to come hit on me.” His eyes narrow like he’s trying to focus. The smell of booze blasts off him with all the appeal of a skunk in heat. “I haven’t seen you around. You probably know who I am, right?” When I shake my head, he touches his chest with both hands. “Cal Howard? Starter on the basketball team?” “A baller?” I fake a gasp. “Shut. Up.” The kind of foolish, drunken smile that can make a guy look like a complete moron appears on his lips. Though I’ve never been to a game, I’m sure if his coach knew he could easily blow a .3 about now, he’d be on his way to developing a healthy dose of bleacher-butt next season. “A pretty little thing like you probably doesn’t know much about basketball. I could take you down to the court some time, teach you how to shoot. Maybe play a little one-on-one?” I send an SOS text to Kelly, hoping she’ll give up among her throws of passion to save me. Where r u? I’ve exceeded my capacity 4 douchery “You textin’ someone?” Cal asks, leaning down to get a look at my phone. Leaning way too close, I might add. The only thing worse than a sloppy drunk is one who’s big enough to fit me in his pocket, and even worse yet, determined. How exactly did I let Kelly talk me into coming here? These parties are the worst. “My boyfriend,” I lie, nodding. “He’s head of security for the Vikings. Big guy, about six four and three fifty. He should be here any minute. I’m sure he’d be into talking sports with you if you want to stick around.” Cal sways on his feet. I can literally see his intelligence shrinking as he tries to think. “Do you have a problem with me?” Taking a deep breath, I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “I would actually have to know you before I could make such conclusions.” His eyebrows raise clumsily as he takes a step closer. “Maybe you should take the time to get to know me.” The stench of his breath about knocks me over when he moves in to grab my arm. “Hey!” I yell, trying to shake him off. “Let go of me!” Quite frankly my new buddy Cal seems too inebriated to have a full understanding of what country he’s in at the moment, but I take a step back anyway, ready to bolt. Out of nowhere, another guy steps in at my side. Nice build with short, dark hair, casually dressed rather than some of the pretentious guys in sports jackets and pressed button downs. The fragrance of men’s body spray, spearmint gum, and

something else musky and manly follows him. I hardly notice anything else once his piercing, steely blue eyes fall on me. “Hey,” he says, his voice deliciously deep and smooth. A nice row of white teeth appears behind his easygoing smile, slight pucker of dimples popping onto his cheeks. I throw my own version of a sexy smile back his way, but it probably looks more like a five-year-old meeting her first Disney princess in person. “Hey.” He tips his head at Cal, his eyes never leaving mine. “Everything okay?” “She’s fine,” Cal answers, finally dropping my arm. “We were just getting to know each other.” The two guys study each other with their chests out, chins lifted, gazes hard. My money would go on the baller by freakishly unnatural height alone, but the new guy doesn’t seem threatened. The intensity between them pinches my lungs. “It’s fine, really. He was just telling me he had to leave,” I finally say, not wanting to see the hot guy get his ass kicked. Cal glares at me a minute before he finally turns, stumbling as he mutters “bitch”, and disappears into the crowd. There’s nothing like the shunning by someone whose morals are clearly higher than yours, especially when they’re too blitzed to remember it in the morning. The new guy shakes his head, irritation visible in his expression. His clear eyes are so beautiful, they about take my breath away. “You okay?” I bray in a nervous giggle. “Guys like that with a shoe size bigger than his IQ? It takes a lot more than that to fluster me.” He chuckles, scanning the crowd like he’s looking for someone. I take the opportunity to give him a good once over. Broad shoulders, square face, thick eyelashes, strong cheekbones, straight nose. Dark stubble covers his jaw, matching his short hair, the slightly longer stuff on top styled in a precarious ‘do. He looks out of place here in his gray raglan shirt, slightly stretched from the muscle underneath, hole-covered jeans, brown leather bracelet, worn-out Chucks. He’d be better suited in the crowd at a rock concert. When he turns back to me, I about die as I’m staring intently at him while biting my lip. “I’m Adam, by the way.” Underneath his approving gaze, I suddenly feel ten times sexier than normal. “Jewels.” He raises his thick eyebrows, smirking. “Want to get out of here?” I sigh. This hottie is probably just another guy looking to hook up—bump uglies, no questions asked. It seems that kind is easier to find than a condom dispenser. A few months ago during my careless stage, I totally would’ve been down for a romp with this gorgeous man. Now that I’m somewhat committed to Levi, however, I can’t let myself go down that path again. “I’m kind of seeing someone.” Adam glances over my shoulder. “Is he here?” I grunt to myself. It doesn’t really matter that Levi works all the time, or that

he’s way beyond his college years. He still wouldn’t come. “No, these kinds of parties aren’t his scene. They’re not exactly mine either, but yet, here I am.” Adam shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just meant we should get some fresh air. This place is pretty thick, and you don’t really seem the smoking type.” “Yeah, sure. I guess my lungs could use a cleansing.” One of his hands falls to my lower back while he uses the other one to keep people from bumping into me as we fight our way through the sweaty bodies. It’s a sweet gesture, one that Levi wouldn’t make in a million years. My imagination kicks into overdrive, picturing Adam’s hand dropping lower to my butt, the other reaching for my— No. I shake my head. I can’t allow myself to go there. Jesus, Jewels. Get a grip. We finally break through the pack of loud drunks and through the front door, letting the cold fresh air of the dark night fill our lungs. The remaining cold leftover from winter chills me to the bone. I suck in a shaky breath. “Yeah, that’s definitely better.” Leaning against a stone retaining wall at the edge of the stairway, Adam rests his hands behind his back, looking up to the dark sky. I stare at his relaxed posture, realizing he’s probably the type I could get along with. The type I probably should be with. Easygoing. Fun. Relaxed. The way his arms bulge just the right amount and his t-shirt bends around the muscles of his stomach, he definitely works out. Probably not for looks, but to stay in shape. Ex-football player in high school maybe. A flush climbs up my neck when I start to envision him naked. My eyes are trailing from his chest to the surge in his jeans when I catch him watching me. “Where you from?” he asks. “Here. I made it a whopping fifteen miles from home. You?” “I live here too.” He thrusts a hand at the house. “I mean, not in this place, but in La Crosse.” The intimate way his beautiful eyes peer into me have me even more intrigued, and majorly turned on. “You don’t go to school here?” I ask, looking down at my phone to avoid meeting his gorgeous gaze. “I dropped out last semester. You?” Sliding my phone back into my back jeans pocket, I find the courage to face him. Once again, the way his eyes drink me in is toe-curling amazing. “Sophomore. Undecided.” Chuckling in his deep, succulent voice, a puff of white air falls from his lips. They’re a nice set of lips, dusty-rose colored and as full as you would want lips on a guy. The kind that would be delightful to suck on. “You mean you’re in your twenties and don’t know what you want to do with the rest of your life? What’s wrong with you?” I grin, excited to play along. “Indecision runs in my family. My mom went to college when she was my age to be a teacher. When I was five she went again to get a nursing degree. Any guess what she does now?”

Under the house light, I catch his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Exotic animal wrangler?” I shake my head with a hiccup of a giggle. “You were this close. She’s manager for a chain of discount clothing stores.” Adam chuckles loudly, clapping his hands together. I love the sound of it, and want to make him laugh like that again. I suddenly want to know everything about him. “I’m probably the only one in this school whose parents don’t really care if I ever declare a major,” I tell him. “They’re more concerned that I get as many life experiences as possible.” Adam tilts his head. “I feel like I’ve seen you before. You work on campus?” “The library. Work study.” It was one of the less creative conditions my parents threw at me after they discovered Levi. While I was less than thrilled when I discovered he had a little boy with an ex-girlfriend, I’ve gotten over it. But it totally put my parents over the edge when they discovered through a friend of a friend that I was seeing a much older man who’s also a daddy. They’re always trying to find creative ways to keep us apart, anything short of locking me in a closet. Adam’s expression lights up. “That’s it. I think I saw you stacking shelves a few times earlier this year.” “What can I say? It’s cutting-edge work.” A few giggling girls saunter between us. In matching slutty tops that show half their bras, and jeans so tight their butts contort with unflattering rolls, it’s no surprise when they throw their long hair of various colors over their shoulders and pass Adam sultry looks. The smell of an actual brewery wafts after them. Adam’s eyes flicker to the sky once they’re gone. “So, cataloging books and drinking keg beer. How’s that life experience thing working out for you so far?” We pass knowing smirks. “Invigorating. Who knew life could be so vivacious?” “Your parents sound like mine.” He gazes past me to the darkness. “I always figure they’re just trying to relive their younger days through me.” “How old are you?” I shimmy my way up to the top of the stone wall across from him, pulling my knees against my chest to keep warm. He turns back to me, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “Just turned twenty-one last month.” “So if you’re not wasting your days away in an institution, preparing for your shiny bright future in the corporate world, what do you do with all your spare time?” “The past couple weeks I’ve been crashing at a buddy’s, trying to decide what I want to do next.” He raises a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “You know, invigorating stuff.” “Sounds like hard work.” I giggle in the carefree way I used to before my life went south. It feels good, as if I’ve shed a heavy weight. “So what have you come up with? Sailing the world? Mission trip to Uganda?”

The soft dimples pop back into place with his grin. “Something like that.” My smile sizzles away. “Wait, you’re not joking.” “Life can be short.” His beautiful eyes become filled with intension. “I want to do something profound.” A pang strikes deep in my chest. I once saw that same level of determination in Jason’s eyes when he uttered nearly those exact same words. Our senior year, after we’d been dating for almost two years, he enlisted in the Marines. I always knew he was really heavily into the military stuff because he came from a family who had all served—his mom, dad, grandpa and a couple of uncles—but it still felt like a blow to the stomach when he didn’t choose to go to college with me as planned. My nearly 4.0 average would’ve given me my pick of schools, but I chose to stay local so I’d be close to Jason’s family, and wouldn’t have to rearrange my school schedule whenever he was on leave. “You okay?” Adam asks, dragging me out of my thoughts. “Yeah. What do you mean, like join the Army?” His lips pull off to the side in a crooked smirk. “No, I don’t think I’m cut out for the military. They’d chew me up and spit me out.” Even though this guy’s still a stranger, his words are comforting. Nervous laughter bubbles out before I can filter it. “Yeah, you don’t really seem the type.” His smirk grows. “What type do you see me as?” I rest my chin on my knees, pretending to turn all serious. “Hmmm, I see you as the type who would find your way up to the front row at a concert. Or the type who would feel comfortable zip-lining over the Grand Canyon. Maybe the type to paddle board in the ocean, maybe even braid some bracelets on the beach and save some sea turtles when you’re done.” “Impressive list.” He casually crosses his arms, amused. “You’re saying you see me as some kind of granola hippie?” I lift just one eyebrow, a trick I inherited from my dad. “Am I right?” With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “I haven’t done any of those things.” Glancing at the thick leather bracelet on his arm, I snort. “Here I thought I had you totally pegged.” “I’m not saying I’d be opposed to any of them.” His teeth gleam in the darkness behind his flickering smile. “It’s just that my parents kept me pretty sheltered. I haven’t been out much.” I lift my head from my knees. “It can’t be that bad.” He glances at the ground before shrugging, as if I’ve hit a sore subject. “We crossed the Minnesota border a few times. Otherwise I’ve never been out of the state.” “Wow,” I say, thinking of all the vacations I’ve been on with my family. “So no rides on a jet plane?” “Nope. The most excitement I’ve had involved the public bus.” “You can file that accomplishment under lame. If you’re attempting to procure a list of more invigorating caliber, I’d definitely add conquering the skies. Once

you’ve arrived in a new airport and walked into a city you’ve never seen, one begins to feel pretty invincible. Everything about traveling puts your senses on a new level.” I lock my fingers around my legs and sigh dreamily. “The millions of people, the ever changing scenery and sights to explore, the fluctuation of weather, even the choices of restaurants. I can’t ever get enough. You know the saying: once you’ve flown through the skies, you never want to walk on the ground.” “Don’t think I’ve heard that one.” I wink. “That’s because I just made it up.” His eyes bore into me with heightened interest. Again, I feel as if he’s undressing me with a simple look. And I really wish we could cut to the chase so he actually would. “I take it you travel a lot?” “My dad’s a pilot for Delta. I’m kind of like the B version of an Army brat. You know, gets to see the world, only we don’t actually ever move.” “Who needs college? Sounds like you’re on your way to becoming a travel agent.” Giggling, I say, “I could be yours, anyway.” Our eyes catch with the double meaning of my words. After a strangely comfortable pause, he says, “What else do you think I should add to this list?” “Well, you have to experience a rock concert from the front row. Nothing too crazy though. You need black belt training to conquer the mosh pit.” His lips tilt in amusement. “You like the kind of music where there are mosh pits?” “It all depends on the level of idiots you’re dealing with. The biggest jackholes usually make an appearance at the heavier rock concerts. I’ll only go to those if one of my big guy friends comes as our bouncer. My friend was nearly flattened last summer at Lollapalooza.” “Sounds like you have no business being in a mosh pit. You must weigh, what, a hundred pounds soaking wet?” I glance down at my fit frame, blushing. Though I rocked the cheerleader’s uniform in high school, I’ve packed on a lot of muscle. I like to run with Kelly to stay in shape, and even did a few 5k runs freshman year. I was lucky enough to get my mom’s high metabolism and been able to eat whatever I want and still stay in a size 4, except for the time when I packed on the freshman 15. Looking back up at him, I roll my eyes. “At least we know you can exclude a career in professional weight guessing at the carnival.” His head tilts back with a deep chuckle. Then he’s pinning me down with his sexy stare again. “So what kind of concert would you recommend?” “For you? What do you listen to?” “Whatever’s on the radio.” When my jaw drops, he laughs. “What? My parents listened to a lot of jazz and blues when I was a kid. That’s all the musical influence I ever got.” “Dude.” I throw my hands out to my sides. “Your parents seriously sheltered you. Child services should’ve been notified of the travesty.”

He gives another easygoing shrug. “I’m open to anything.” I huff as if he personally offended me by not having any special taste in music. “Fine. I’d start out with some Bastille or Mumford and Sons. Everyone likes that shit.” Grinning, I add, “Or we could take you to New Orleans to hear the kind of music you’re more familiar with.” “Okay, fine.” He bites the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to smirk, like he’s letting me know he’s taking this seriously. It makes him drop dead sexy. “What about zip-lining? Is that something you’ve tried?” Laughing, I nod. “I was tricked into going a few years ago when we were visiting Arizona. They told me we were going spelunking when they handed us helmets. I’m scared to death of heights, but I’m telling you, there’s nothing like floating through the air at fifty feet off the ground. I don’t know if it’s the fear of plunging to my death or what, but it’s quite the trip. I’d definitely take you white water rafting, too.” “So, extremely dangerous activities in Arizona, check.” All dimples. “After that, where would you take me paddle boarding?” I space out with the memory of Jason trying to paddle board when he came along on my family’s vacation to Oahu our senior year. He was so athletic, even before he buffed up in the Corps and became a surfing addict in San Diego. Those memories seem so far away, as if in a different life. It’s been over a year since I broke up with Jason, but the gaping hole of guilt and regret in my heart makes it feel like just days ago. “Hawaii,” I answer quietly, squeezing my eyes shut. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah.” A cold breeze flips my blond curls into my face. Shivering, I rub at my prickly legs. “I’m one of those who’s prone to a coma once the booze stops flowing. Give me another hour and I’ll be out for the night.” He leans away from the wall, his eyes worried. “You want to go somewhere else? I mean somewhere public? You look...cold.” “As much as I’d love to blow this place, I came with a friend,” I say, motioning to the house. Kelly was totally hammered the last time I saw her. She’s most likely making out with one of the preppy guys who always seem to fall for her wild spirit and large, chocolate brown eyes. She’s like cat-nip for studs. With his hands still in his pockets, Adam shrugs. It’s so reserved, just like all of his other mannerisms. I can see him hanging out in bed on a Saturday morning, his hair ruffled, no particular plans in mind. “Tell her you’ll come back to get her when she’s ready to go.” Weighing the options in my head, I pull my phone from my pocket. Blowing Kelly off for a guy I’m majorly attracted to seems like a horrible idea. That side of me hasn’t reared its drunken head since Levi and I became a thing, whatever that “thing” may be. Plus, I really should make sure Kelly isn’t so drunk that she’s doing something she’ll regret in the morning. If only she had looked out for me like that the night I met Levi.

I push off the wall. “I should probably go inside and make sure she’s okay.” His eyebrows lift as he takes a few steps closer. “You want company? Just say the word and I’m all yours.” I pull in a sharp, stuttering breath. There’s an undeniable force pulling me to him, unmatched to any draw I’ve ever felt before. I just can’t walk away and pretend we never met. I can’t ignore the tingle in my stomach, or the fluttering of my pulse. While I have no intention of giving my heart to another guy after what I did to Jason, it’s still impossible not to envision myself wrapped around this beautiful man. He takes a step back. “If I’m making you uncomfortable—” “You’re not,” I blurt, reaching out to touch his arm. When my fingers connect with his skin, dynamite shoots through me. “I mean, I’m kind of seeing someone.” “You mentioned that.” The dimples reappear, giving him almost a boyish quality. “Several times now.” When he gleams at me like that, it’s almost impossible not to smile back. “Sorry.” I drop my hand from his arm to nervously slide my phone between my fingers. “I mean, it’s not like he’s got me bugged. It’s not even that serious.” Adam seems to be standing much closer when he asks in a low voice, “It’s not? Serious, I mean?” The tingles I feel in this moment are so out of control, I consider leaping into his arms and taking him right on the freshly mowed lawn. “We haven’t even reached the ‘in a relationship’ status on Facebook.” Adam shrugs. “So simply hanging out with me wouldn’t be considered cheating on this guy, right? Just because you’re seeing him doesn’t mean you’re exclusively committed to him for life. Especially if he isn’t smart enough to claim you as his girlfriend.” The only sound aside from the muffled voices and music from inside are my ragged breaths. His lips are so close, so edible, all my thoughts become a jumbled mess. Levi isn’t here, and it’s not like I have plans to marry him one day. So— I jump when my phone vibrates in my hands. A message from Kelly flashes across the screen. Where r u? I look up and sigh. “My friend’s looking for me. I should probably...yeah, I’m going to go.” After three steps I pause to look over my shoulder. “Are you coming, or are you set on holding that wall up for the rest of the night?” Adam brightens in response. Although I really know nothing about him, I feel a thrill for what’s to come.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jennifer Ann is the pen name young adult paranormal author Jen Naumann uses to write new adult romance novels intended to spice up your life and pull at your heart strings. When not writing from one of the 10,000 lakes in Minnesota, Jennifer is either rocking out at concerts, riding Harley, helping her husband farm, or chasing down one of their four active children. Add Jen as a friend on Facebook to get a glimpse into her crazy mind: Jennifer Ann Naumann @naumannbooks AuthorJenniferAnn www.JenNaumann.net

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First off, I want to send a massive shout out to all the readers/bloggers who showed mad love for Evelyn and Charlie’s story in Brooklyn Rockstar by leaving reviews on either Goodreads or the retailer’s site, telling your friends to give it a try, and sending me messages to tell me how much you enjoyed the story. After writing over a dozen books, this series is by far my favorite and it warms my heart to feel validation on a project I poured my heart into. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your support! Special thanks to my amazing crew for helping me create the best version of this novel: Nina, my awesome publicist for shaping this story into something better; Christopher, my editor for putting up with my antics and misuse of commas while always knowing how to my stories so much stronger; Najla, my cover designer for helping my vision to become a reality. I appreciate everyone’s hard work and dedication even though I can be a royal pain in the ass! Sending my love to all who have joined my street team, because you guys truly rock for putting up with me and continuing to read my books. Special thanks to Corrie, Rachel, and Jennifer for beta reading when this wasn’t necessarily the best version of itself, because I’m not sure what I’d do without your suggestions! Thank you to my sweet cousin Tara for helping me get the medical jargon correct, and thank you to my friend Natasha for helping me with Sharlo’s dialect. To my husband and children, thank you for your support and patience as I put in odd hours and get in my weird writer zones. You guys are the best and I wouldn’t be able to pursue my dream career without you!