Home to Me

by LaVerne Clark

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Home to Me

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and other major retailers

  “You’re going to do this with or without my help, aren’t you, Luce?”

  Her jaw set under his fingers, and she gave him a defiant nod.

  He ground out another curse and opened his mouth. “If this is what you really want, what you think you need to get past this, I will be your lover. Me. No one else. Got it?”

  Her eyes grew wide, and her pretty pink lips parted as she stared up at him, her expression dumbstruck. Exactly how he felt when he heard the words trip out of him. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t exactly been planning to say that. But no matter that it was a spur of the moment thing; the steady beat of his heart and the sudden clearing of his head assured him it was the right thing to do. It was the only way he could guarantee her safety. Too many things could go wrong while she was so delicate, and he’d have no way of knowing until it was too late. No way was he risking that—risking her. Not when he could stop it happening altogether.

  His grip on her chin loosened, and his thumb caressed her jaw. “God knows, you deserve to have the world at your feet, Lucy, and you deserve better, but if you’re determined to go down this path, know the only man I’ll be offering you is me.”

  Home to Me

  by

  LaVerne Clark

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Home to Me

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 by LaVerne Clark

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2019

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2582-8

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2583-5

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my own older brother’s best friend, Anthony,

  the love of my life.

  I'm so glad you finally gave in to me.

  ~

  And to Sarah Blakey—

  thank you for sharing

  that kick-ass, worst pick-up line ever!

  It is a doozy.

  ~

  And finally, to my editor, Josette.

  Thank you so much for your belief, your enthusiasm,

  and for helping me bring this story to life.

  Chapter One

  “He did what?”

  “Ouch.” Lucy Caldwell winced as the screech reverberated in her head before lodging behind her eyeballs. She squinted across the bar table to bring her best friend, Suzie, into focus, then closed one eye. Nope, still two of her. “Dumped me. Apparently I’m cold. Frigid, I think his exact words were.”

  Indignation spread over Suzie’s face, and Lucy raised her glass in a mock toast before knocking back the amber liquid. Shuddering as it slid down her throat in a fiery burn, she signaled to the barman for another couple of shots, then stared down morosely into her empty glass. If she were being honest, the fact he’d dumped her wasn’t what hurt. After all, she couldn’t really blame the man when she hadn’t invested much of herself into the relationship. No, it was his words that cut to the quick—and the paralyzing suspicion that he was right.

  With her defenses so low, she’d been powerless to resist the force of nature that was Suzie on a mission when she announced she was taking her out to cheer her up. Which was how she found herself half-smashed at the local bar, slugging back whiskey, shot after shot. Before she knew it, she’d unburdened herself of the whole sorry tale in an alcohol-fueled confessional, and she had to admit, it had felt great. She felt lighter than she had in years. Coming home had been the right thing to do.

  Blinking back tears that came too often these days, she glanced down. Her order had appeared in front of her as if by magic. Huh. She held the amber liquid up to the light, then took a swallow to ease the blockage in her throat. Would the remnant of shame that clung to her like a second skin ever be as easy to distill?

  A snort of disgust sounded from across the table, and her head jerked up, her eyes meeting Suzie’s. They blazed with fire.

  “That dirty, rotten bastard. How dare he treat you like that? This was what—your fourth date with him? I swear if he wasn’t my cousin and lived across the Tasman, I’d be over there and giving him a swift kick in the balls.”

  Feeling the telltale quiver to her bottom lip, Lucy bit down on it and bent her head, forgetting for the moment the long fall of blonde hair she used to hide behind was no longer. Her friend’s cat-eyes narrowed into dark slits, and Lucy closed her own. She’d never been able to keep much from her.

  “Screw it.” Suzie’s voice was as hard as diamonds. “I might just go and do that anyway.”

  Mildly alarmed before, Lucy’s alarm grew as her friend fished around in the voluminous handbag she carried around. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m giving him a piece of my mind, that’s what. If you could have heard the begging he did to get your number in the first place. Then he goes and says that, just because you wouldn’t put out. What a pig. If he only knew what you’ve been through.”

  Horrified, Lucy stared as the cell phone was unearthed and her friend started swiping the screen, muttering under her breath. Leaning across the table, she snatched the phone out of her hands.

  “Hey! Give it back.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t call him, please. It’ll just make everything worse, and I really don’t want him knowing that ugly stuff about me. Besides—” She broke off and took a deep breath. “He kind of had a point.”

  Suzie sat back in her chair, one finely plucked brow raised, her arms crossed over her chest.

  God. How uncomfortable was it to discuss the finer points of a relationship when the cousin of the significant other was the receptor? Excruciatingly so, that’s how. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. Instead, she picked up her glass and knocked the remainder of her drink back in one gulp. The whiskey burned down her throat, delivering its desired effect, warming the inside while numbing the out. Her vision swam, and she blinked to clear it, her surroundings blurring around the edges.

  The impatient tapping of fingernails on wood drew her attention from the pleasant fog, and she glanced up to find Suzie’s steady green gaze on her, her glossed-pink lips pursed with expectation.

  Lucy sighed and rested her chin in her hand. Not for the first time, she found herself captivated by her friend’s delicate dark-Irish good looks. The two girls couldn’t have been any more polar opposites. “God, you’re so beautiful it’s disgusting.”

  Suzie’s arched brow rose higher. “Thanks—I th
ink. I’ll ignore the fact you’re horrendously drunk and take it as a compliment.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now stop trying to change the subject and talk.”

  Horrendously drunk? Lucy’s elbow slipped off the table, and she jerked herself upright. Squinting down at the table, she noted with detached interest the empty glasses littering the surface. Most of them were right under her nose. Hmm. Perhaps she was sozzled.

  She gripped the edge of the barrel table to stop it from spinning. “It was all my fault, so don’t blame Jarrod. I led him on.” She blew out a breath, lifting wispy bits of fringe. “I thought I was ready to have sex with him. I mean, he’s hot, and he made no secret of the fact he wanted me. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t want to sleep with him?”

  The sound of gagging made her break off on a laugh. “It’s true and you know it, Suze. He’s in demand with the ladies. Always has been. Must be something to do with those bedroom eyes of his. Course, it doesn’t hurt he’s good with his hands.”

  “Oh, ugh. I’m so going to have to bleach my brain after tonight,” Suzie muttered with a wince.

  “I meant, being a mechanic and all. Get your mind out of the gutter.” The wicked smile faded, and the familiar feelings of shame and inadequacy flooded her head instead. She turned her attention to the tabletop and squinted. When did that drink get there? She didn’t remember ordering it. Shrugging, she picked it up and knocked it back, no wince or shudder this time. It was getting as easy to drink as water. She placed the glass on the table with a satisfying clunk and sighed. “It didn’t matter what he tried, how he touched me; I just couldn’t get into it. The more he tried, the worse I’d get. Uptight and the total opposite of horny. I doubt it was much fun for him either.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was right and I’m just frigid. I swear I could never have sex again and not even miss it.”

  “What a shame. Sounds like you just haven’t found the right partner yet.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened at the deep, throaty voice behind her and spun around. Her head seemed to lag behind the rest of her body. The whole room swirled into a kaleidoscope, and she tilted out of her chair. A large hand shot out to steady her, the heat in the touch making her knees weak. Or more likely the whiskey, she corrected herself firmly as her gaze connected with a pair of smoky-gray eyes that had haunted her dreams more years than she cared to count. He still wore his dark hair a little long, and her fingers itched to push back the stubborn lock that flopped forward over his forehead, giving him a rakish look.

  “Sam,” she breathed, helpless to stop the silly grin spreading over her face. The chair clattered to the ground behind her as she stood and reached up to hug him for all she was worth. With his arms closing around her, she buried her nose in his chest and inhaled. God, he smelled good. Warm, masculine, familiar. Such a delicious combination, she had to fight not to take a bite out of him.

  “Hey, brat.”

  She looked up and bit back a sigh instead. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed down at her, those beautiful lips she remembered so well curving with amusement mere inches from her own.

  A flash of white teeth interrupted her reverie, and she blinked. Had she been staring at his mouth a little too long? She jerked her gaze away. The sudden move made her stumble, and Sam’s arm tightened around her waist. For a moment, she closed her eyes and savored the feeling, her body wanting to melt against him. Even after all these years, he still felt like home. Belatedly, she came to her senses.

  “Whoopsy-daisy.” She forced a laugh and pushed against his chest, taking a step back at the same time. “I’d better let the barman know about the floor. It’s wonky.” She pointed at the offending spot. “Someone could hurt themselves.”

  “Is that right?” The corner of his mouth twitched in the same way she remembered when he was trying not to laugh. But it always seemed to be at her, and right now was no different.

  A flush prickled her cheeks. “Jeez, that didn’t take long to fall back into familiar territory.” She fisted her hands on her hips and cocked her head to cover the sharp edge that had found its way into her words. “I’m glad to see you still find me so amusing.”

  His expression softened, and he smiled. “It’s good to see you again too, Lucy. I’ve missed you. You look great, even if you’re a little pissed.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” she protested, her tone deadpan, doing her best to ignore the thrill his words brought. “It was the whiskey.” His bark of laughter made her belly flip-flop. She indicated the empty chair next to her friend. “Want to join us?”

  “I’d love to. Hi, Suzie.” He grinned, his gaze warm and appreciative. “You look beautiful as always.”

  The thrill died. Lucy swallowed hard as the whiskey curdled in her belly, watching as her best friend glowed under Sam’s attention. Not that she blamed her. She’d seen the effect Sam had on women over and over during her teens. He’d been gorgeous then, but now those gangly arms and wiry body had filled out.

  The promise in his wide shoulders had come to fruition and then some. The casual black T-shirt he wore defined the impressive muscles of his biceps and chest, earned through the hard, physical work his job as a landscaper demanded. He sat in a relaxed pose, legs outstretched and strong thighs splayed slightly. Realizing her gaze was in dangerous territory, she jerked her head up, fighting the magnetic pull his lower body encased in jeans worn in all the right places had on her senses.

  Turning her eyes back to his face, she bit back a sigh. Reasoning to herself that there really was no safe place for her gaze to rest, she gave in and let it drop to his mouth. God, those lips. She could never be sure if it was the top lip with its perfect cupid’s bow in the middle, or the fuller sensual bottom lip that attracted her so much. Separately they were tempting, but put together, they were a knockout combination. Dirty thoughts invaded her brain every time she looked at his mouth, which was why she’d always tried to avoid it. It didn’t help that her brain flashed back to the memory of how they’d felt against her own that one unforgettable time. It was probably a good thing she was the only one who seemed to remember it.

  She lifted her gaze to find him studying her, a slight frown marring his brow. Under his scrutiny, her body heated in a slow simmer, causing a flush to rise to her cheeks. Their eyes connected, his sparking for the briefest of moments with some indecipherable emotion, and her pulse leaped.

  With that one look, she finally understood what it was that set him apart from the boy she’d known. Sam the man smoldered with an air of dangerous sexuality.

  She swallowed to ease a suddenly dry throat, and it made a funny clicking sound. “What are you doing here, Sam? I’ve never known you to come to the pub by yourself.” She glanced around belatedly. “You are by yourself, aren’t you?”

  He leaned back in his chair, an amused tilt to his mouth at her awkward attempt at conversation. His booted foot nudged her calf, and she pulled her legs back at the contact, crossing them at the ankle.

  “Your mother told me you were back in New Zealand.”

  His words confirmed her growing suspicion, and her eyes narrowed. “And she asked you to keep an eye on me, didn’t she? And just like the old days, you trotted out to do her bidding, to look after the baby.”

  His silence and crossed arms told her she’d hit the nail on the head. Apart from the slight tick beside his right eye, he remained impassive. Once upon a time, her prodding would have caused a reaction. Yet another thing that marked the passage of time.

  Frustration boiled out of her in a hiss. Frustration, and the thought that he wasn’t here voluntarily. “God! I’m twenty-five years old, Samuel Merrick. I’ve been living in a whole different country for the past six years all by myself and did just fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Or another brother. I already had one of those.”

  As soon as the sharp words left her mouth, she wanted to slap herself. Pain flashed in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned down. The whiskey she’d been throwing back churned in her gut, threateni
ng to make a reappearance, and she excused herself from the table, her chair scraping back with a loud screech. Sam rounded the table in a flash, but she held up a hand and shrank away from his touch. “I’m going to the bathroom. Unless your babysitting duties include wiping my butt, you can stay here. Why don’t you make yourself useful and order me another whiskey, huh?”

  “I think you’ve had plenty enough already,” he said, his mouth tightening a little in that disapproving line she remembered so well. He’d worn this look around her often—when he wasn’t laughing at her, that was.

  Rolling her eyes, she marched to the ladies’. At least she thought she marched. It was hard to tell when her vision swam and her head was so cloudy. Slamming the door behind her, she stood before the mirror and placed cool hands on overheated cheeks. She closed her eyes and groaned. Yet again, she was making a spectacle of herself. Was she doomed to repeat such behavior when he was around? What was it about him that made her revert back to a child? She glared at her reflection, berating herself for thinking even for a moment that he was here just because he’d missed her, that he’d sought her out just for the pleasure of her company. And even worse, she was letting her hurt feelings that he hadn’t show. “How will he ever see you as anything but a child if you keep acting like one? You stupid twit.”

  The door to the restroom pushed open a crack, and Suzie’s face appeared in the sliver of space. “Okay to come in?”

  She nodded and shuffled over. “Sorry about that.” She grimaced as Suzie stepped beside her and their eyes met in the mirror. “I’m just sick of Sam treating me like his kid sister. I’m a grown woman, damn it. I thought after these years apart he’d have noticed.”

  Suzie’s eyes rounded, and then her face lit up in a delighted grin. “You’ve still got the hots for him.”

  Lucy opened her mouth to deny it as she’d been doing for years, then remembered her recent promise to act like an adult. Her shoulders drooped. “Is it that obvious?” When Suzie nodded, she closed her eyes. “God, how embarrassing.”