WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

by Jewel, Bella

  How do I say goodbye to this man? The one who tricked me with his lies and won me over with his loyalty.

  “Thank you for everything,” I murmur.

  “You’re thanking me now?” He gives a subtle grin, that dimple stunning me with its exquisite allure.

  “Yes. For what you did today, I’ll be forever grateful.”

  He lowers his gaze, that grin turning somber. “Don’t mention it.”

  I keep my head high, faking determination as I walk outside into the dimming late-afternoon sun, and approach the cab.

  I don’t want to leave, but it’s the only thing I know. I’m always running, always seeking distance. I don’t have any experience doing anything else. Staying and fighting for what my heart craves is a foreign concept I don’t know how to battle.

  “Wait,” he calls.

  I freeze, as if moving even an inch will stop him from trying to make me stay. My belly tumbles as his footsteps approach, then he grabs my hand and gently glides me around to face him.

  My lungs seize as he leans in, placing the sweetest, softest, most flawless kiss on my tingling lips. I could die from the pleasure. From the affection and pure perfection.

  Then he steps back, turns toward the house, and stalks away. “Goodbye, princess.”

  Epilogue

  Her

  One month later

  I saunter into Atomic Buzz and approach Brent behind the bar.

  “Your third visit this week,” he drawls. “I don’t know if I should be thankful for the company or concerned of impending alcoholism.”

  I roll my eyes and slide into my favorite seat. “I didn’t realize I could become an alcoholic from two drinks a night.”

  “Everyone has to start somewhere.” He grins at me and slides over a Long Island Iced Tea, my current drink of choice. “You’re just a little slower at this than my regulars.”

  After I left Hunter a month ago, I came here. There had been nowhere else to go. I’d loathed the thought of spending another night in a hotel when I knew Hunter wouldn’t come after me, and my apartment was nothing but empty space.

  Brent had welcomed me back with open arms and a large amount of growled concern. He’d wanted to know what happened, and for the first time in ten years, I’d been willing to pour my heart out.

  I told him everything.

  Well, not everything.

  I explained the situation with my family and went into detail about my search for the man who murdered them. He now knew that Hunter had helped me find Jacob, and thankfully he didn’t pester me for more details when I gave vague references to why my time with both men had come to an end.

  Brent looked after me for those first few days. He let me crash on his couch for a night, and helped the moving company place my furniture back in my apartment the next day when the truck arrived.

  He became more than a friend in a short space of time, and quickly turned into someone I now consider family.

  “How was the old duck today?” he asks, polishing the bar. “Did she make me any cookies?”

  “The cookies are always mine, you know that.” I smirk. “But she’s good. We spent three hours in her kitchen while she unsuccessfully tried to teach me how to make a red velvet white trifle.”

  Brent snickers. “I guess you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

  “I’m not old.” I glare.

  Betty had been another task on my newly made bucket list. It had taken me a week to work up the courage to return to Eagle Creek. When my cab pulled into her driveway, she had been standing on the porch, looking down on me as I stepped onto her lawn.

  Turns out, she welcomed me back with just as much enthusiasm as Brent.

  I crumpled in her arms. I actually had to fight not to sob like a little bitch. And as I explained my unworthy reasons for stealing her car, she filled my belly with coffee and homemade apple cake. She’s been doing the same thing every Sunday for the last three weeks.

  I’ve created a life and a home for myself in Portland, not just a place to hide.

  The door to Atomic Buzz swooshes open, and Brent raises a brow at the newcomer. “I think this guy’s lost. I bet you ten bucks he asks for directions.”

  “No way.” I swirl my Long Island Iced Tea, not bothering to look over my shoulder. “I still owe you money from the last time we had this bet.”

  The time when Hunter had walked through that door.

  The footfalls approach, and I cringe, not wanting my time with Brent to be interrupted with menial chitchat.

  “What can I get you?” Brent lowers a hand to the fridge below the counter, waiting.

  “A Corona.” The voice is low and subtle, barely a whisper of a response.

  My heart stops. It’s him. The man I’ve dreamed about for nights on end.

  From my peripheral vision, I see him slide onto a seat, leaving a vacant spot between us. Just like the first time we met.

  “You lost?” Brent slides a coaster across the bar and places Hunter’s beer bottle down on it.

  “No.”

  “Looking for something in particular?” Brent taunts.

  “Yeah.”

  I swallow over the tightening in my throat. “You’re wasting your time with monosyllable answers,” I whisper. “He’ll keep pestering you until you divulge your deepest, darkest secrets.”

  “Is that so?” His voice washes over me, caressing all of my erogenous zones, touching all my newly formed strength and making me even stronger.

  “Yep,” Brent admits. “So, spit it out. What are you doing here?”

  I succumb to my visual thirst and turn to face Hunter.

  He looks good. Really good.

  A charcoal shirt is molded to the muscles of his chest. Rough stubble hugs his jaw, and those eyes are exactly how I remember them. Although, they’re not harsh like when we first met, but they’re equally intense. Then there are his lips—pure temptation in motion, the slight curve lifting at one side in a half-hearted smile.

  “My sister got knocked up by a lowlife with a heavy hand. He left her as soon as my nephew was born. So, I quit my job, packed my things, and drove here.”

  “That’s…” I want to keep up the recap of our first night together, but my palpitating heart won’t allow it. “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry.” He cringes, and it’s kinda cute to see him uncomfortable. “I actually thought you would’ve come to find me by now. But seeing as you didn’t, I came to offer my support in whatever way you’ll take it.”

  “Support?” My brows pull tight as his gaze rakes me, from my face, to my stomach, then back up again.

  My breath catches. “You think I’m pregnant?”

  “The last time we were together we weren’t…”

  Safe. Protected. I was supposed to get the morning after pill and forgot in the mad scramble to regain control in my life. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “Not…pregnant.”

  I don’t think he means to parrot me. It seems more like shock. Maybe it’s even disappointment building in those clear hazel eyes.

  “I just thought…” He sighs and grasps his beer, taking one large gulp after another.

  Brent clears his throat then fakes a dramatic yawn, again, like the first night I met Hunter. “I think I might have to call last drinks.”

  This time I don’t glare. I can barely hold in a grin. His eyes are gleaming at me, taunting in their memory.

  Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match.

  “It’s barely dark out,” I drawl.

  He shrugs.

  Hunter downs the last of his beer. “He’s right. I should get out of here and leave you alone like I promised.”

  He slides from his seat and pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his cargos to slap some bills on the bar.

  I let him walk away and remind myself of how much I’ve grown without him.

  I’ve found myself in his absence. I’ve almost become whole again. But until now, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for
the final puzzle piece. The biggest, brightest part of being happy.

  “Wait,” I call out.

  He plants his feet. His back straightens.

  Brent grins at me, a pride-filled, happiness-rich grin.

  “You’re supposed to follow me out of here, remember?” I grab my purse from the bar and scoot off my seat to stride toward him. My legs tingle. My belly flutters.

  I walk past him to the door, then pause to glance over my shoulder. This time, the tweak of his mouth isn’t a threat or a taunt. It’s pure elation. Undiluted relief.

  There’s still a hum.

  An absolutely amazing zing.

  It slides down my spine, tightens my nipples, and contracts my pussy in a repeat of the exquisite squeeze from when we first met.

  I was right when I anticipated that Hunter would devastate me and leave me deliciously broken. I was wrong, too. Because he also made me whole again.

  “You waiting for me, princess?”

  My heart does a goddamn flip. It’s enough to make my knees weak and my stomach tumble. “I’ve been waiting for a month.”

  The humor flees his features. “Are you serious?” He approaches to settle in beside me, peering down at me with beseeching eyes.

  “Sorry, I broke character.” I grin. “I’m supposed to point out that you’re following me, then you ask if that’s a problem.”

  His brows pull tight, then finally, he gives a succinct nod. “Is it a problem that I plan on following you?”

  I want to laugh. Goddamn it. The vibration consumes my chest. This man, this murderer, is following instructions to do a cheesy re-run of the first night we met. And I goddamn love it.

  I love him.

  A breath shudders from my lips, and I blink back the burn in my eyes. “I guess that depends on what you want to achieve.”

  My vision blurs as I wait for his response. I remember what he said the first time. I remember the exact words—I want everything.

  “Hey…” His rough palm glides over my cheek, his gentle touch inspiring the first tear to fall.

  I haven’t cried in ten years. Not in sorrow. Not in pain. And definitely not in the overwhelming happiness currently sinking through every inch of my being.

  “I want you to move in with me,” he whispers. “I want you to be mine. I want you to be as in love with me as I am with you.”

  He takes my mouth in a forceful kiss, curling my toes, stroking my tongue with his before pulling back to rest his forehead against mine. “I still want everything, Sarah.”

  I nod, the movement jerky and uncontrolled. “Then, no, Luke. I guess it’s no problem at all.”

  ***

  I hope you enjoyed Hunter!

  To read a BONUS scene, sign up to the Eden Summers’ mailing list and receive—an epilogue from Hunter’s point-of-view.

  Click here for details

  Decker is now available.

  CLICK HERE to check him out.

  Also by Eden Summers

  Hunting Her Series

  Hunter

  Decker

  Torian

  Savior

  * * *

  Reckless Beat Series

  Blind Attraction (Reckless Beat #1)

  Passionate Addiction (Reckless Beat #2)

  Reckless Weekend (Reckless Beat #2.5)

  Undesired Lust (Reckless Beat #3)

  Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)

  Reckless Rendezvous (Reckless Beat #4.5)

  Undeniable Temptation (Reckless Beat #5)

  Reckless Encore (Reckless Beat #5.5)

  * * *

  Information on more of Eden’s titles can be found at www.edensummers.com or your online book retailer.

  About the Author

  Eden Summers is a bestselling author of contemporary romance with a side of sizzle and sarcasm.

  She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she's circling the drain of insanity.

  Eden can't resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.

  If you’d like access to exclusive information and giveaways, join Eden Summers’ newsletter via the link on her website - www.edensummers.com

  For more information:

  www.edensummers.com

  eden@edensummers.com

  CAN’T TOUCH THIS

  Pepper Winters

  Can’t Touch This

  by

  New York Times Bestseller

  Pepper Winters

  writing as

  Romantic Comedy Author

  Tess Hunter

  Confused?

  Don’t worry. It’s the same person doing strange things as all authors are prone to do. Just sit back and hopefully enjoy...

  Can’t Touch This

  Copyright © 2016 Tess Hunter / Pepper Winters

  Published by Tess Hunter / Pepper Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Tess Hunter 2016: authortesshunter@gmail.com Pepper Winters 2016 pepperwinters@gmail.com

  Cover Image: Canstock Photos

  Font: Purchased Commercial License Shimes One by Måns Grebäck

  Cover Design: Tess Hunter / Pepper Winters

  Editing: Tess Hunter / Pepper Winters

  About the Author

  Tess Hunter is the superhero pen name of a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Bestseller who gave up swallowing her one-liners and decided to write them instead. Her libido scares even her and having an outlet to be snarky, stupid, and sexy while cloaked by incognito is the perfect recipe for naughtiness online and in-between the romance pages.

  To sign up for New Release Alerts CLICK HERE

  To hang out with Tess head over to her Facebook page CLICK HERE

  To visit her website CLICK HERE

  To hang out in a Facebook Group CLICK HERE

  Okay, so…I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but here’s a little story about THIS story.

  * * *

  Once upon a time, there was a Dark Romance author called Pepper Winters. She had incredible readers who joined her on the dark side for her special blend of torture and romance (yes, they can go hand in hand—after all, isn’t love a very specific kind of torture?) Anyway, Pepper then lived through August 2016.

  It was the worst month of her life.

  On the 7th of August, she headed to her land to feed her and her friend’s horse. On this fateful 7th of August, the sun was shining, the world was good, Pepper was happy.

  Then the world turned black.

  The horse had shattered its leg, and it was the worst thing Pepper had ever seen. She won’t go into details, but she was there as the horse passed on and was laid to rest.

  She wasn’t alone that day. Her husband was with her. However, the images wouldn’t stop repeating.

  A week went by and still the memory of death remained. Pepper found she couldn’t write Dark Romance while her mind was occupied by such pain.

  So, she cracked open a manuscript and started typing. Sill
y, sarcastic, idiotic one liners between a man and a woman who wanted each other. There was no dark undertones or foreshadowing horror, just pure ‘butterflies in the tummy’ flirting and lots of sexual tension. It helped stop those images and for a few days, she was happy.

  Then on the 18th of August, her little bunny (who has been her fur baby for 8.5 years, been on road trips, planes, slept at the end of the bed, and was her full time writing partner) couldn’t pee very well.

  So, Pepper took her to the vet, saw a terrifying x-ray of a bladder stone and agreed with the vet to do an operation in two days’ time. She ignored the fact that her baby was old, that her instincts were screaming, that her bunny was a cute, happy, cheeky little thing that showed no sign of pain and perhaps try another alternative first.

  But vets and doctors know best, so she bowed to expert opinion.

  The operation went well. Bunny came home. Bunny refused to eat for 35 hours. Pepper and her husband were beside themselves. They hadn’t slept for three solid days; they gave everything they could to encourage this poor little poppet to keep going, all the while knowing she’d given up. When their bunny passed away, a big part of them passed with her.