Table of Contents
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Title Page
Copyright
His Complete Polar Opposite
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Sneak Peek at Her Forbidden Love Match
Other Books by Theresa
Become a Townie
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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COPYRIGHT
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.
Published by TMP Books Inc.
Copyright July 2019
Edited by CookieLynn Publishing Services
Cover Design by Amanda Walker PA and Design Services
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dedicated to the silence of night.
We spent a lot of time together this time around.
Chapter 1
The last thing Cami needed was a flat tire, but here she was, stranded on the side of the road with not a lick of cell service. She really needed to change her provider to one that actually worked in the entire town of Willow Cove. If something like this were to happen again, at least she would be prepared. God forbid.
She held her phone in the air and hoped the closer she got to the heavens, the more likely a miracle would be bestowed upon her in the form of bars.
Either her five-foot-eight-plus reach wasn’t high enough, or there was no one above who wanted to help a girl out. She released an annoyed sigh and let her arm fall, her hand and phone slapping against her thigh.
“Figures,” she mumbled, not like there was anyone around to hear her except for the cattails that lined the road.
She had a donut, but hell if she knew what to do with the dratted thing. She knew a lot about a lot of things, but unfortunately, car maintenance definitely was not one of them. In her brain, she made a mental note to learn how to change a spare, because if she carried this tidbit of information with her, she wouldn’t be late getting back to her coffee shop.
The Local Bean was her pride and joy—the thing she worked her butt off to make happen, and when she wasn’t there, she felt almost itchy. She put in long hours, but she didn’t mind. The constant access to caffeine helped, but even still, she loved her job. Now it was currently in the hands of Paulie, a college student home for the summer, and the grandson of her mom’s friend.
He was a good kid, but that didn’t mean she trusted him with her livelihood longer than she intended. Twenty minutes… That’s how long it should’ve taken to drive to the bank, drop off the deposit, drive back, and return to her place behind the register. Twenty minutes was not enough time for the kid to completely destroy her business. Now, still a ten-minute drive from her destination, she was stranded.
Walking never bothered her, but of course today, she wanted to wear a new pair of four-inch wedges she’d bought on sale—a decision she regretted with each step she took along the back road, used mainly by locals to avoid the chaos of summer tourist traffic.
The summer heat clung to her and caused a lovely sheen of sweat to appear. She could feel her makeup melting off while her shirt grew wet and stuck to her like a second skin. Her heart raced, and she wondered if that double shot of espresso was a bad idea after all.
The sound of an approaching car and a horn halted her in place. She looked up as her miracle finally was cast upon her. She sighed as she spotted Enzo, her best friend Ella’s older brother, all around nice guy and the ultimate eye candy.
The guy could have been a model with his thick, dark brown hair that was always swept back, showcasing the textures of his natural waves and putting his piercing blue eyes on display. Dark stubble tended to accompany the hard lines around his jaw and mouth, which helped soften his uptight persona.
Though modeling was a career he never considered—since he preferred to take over his grandfather’s restaurant and stay in their quaint little town—it was something she admired since she also chose Willow Cove over a bigger town or city.
Enzo seemed content and happy without setting out for the big world, so why couldn’t she? When she had been on the fence about whether or not she should stay in Willow Cove, he’d encouraged her to follow what she’d felt true in her heart. It was then she knew her heart would always be in Willow Cove.
Enzo pulled up alongside her; the faint sounds of Frank Sinatra floated out of the opened window. He smiled, but like always, he didn’t show any teeth, and it lacked its full potential. As if a full smile would somehow make him less serious. The intensity in his blue eyes was enough to make anyone know that Enzo Moretti was to be taken seriously.
Growing up, Cami had nicknamed him Old Man Buzzkill. She was the wild one out of her group of friends, and somehow Enzo always managed to ruin their plans. Like the time she, Ella, and Krissy were going to sneak out to go to a party. Everything was going great until Enzo poked his head around the corner and busted them, sending them back to Ella’s room like they’d committed high treason. He never did rat them out, though, and for that, Cami always forgave him, even if he was a big ol’ party pooper.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his lips pressed together.
“If you call a flat tire and no cell service ‘okay’ then yup… Everything is just wonderful.” She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up and plastered a cheesy grin on her face. Her antics weren’t enough to even get him to crack a smile.
He reached across the console, his lean muscles straining against his red Vinny Lobster Shack t-shirt, and pushed the passenger door open with no preamble.
She arched a curious brow in his direction.
“Get in.”
She leapt into the glorious air-conditioned vehicle and yanked the door shut. Enzo’s Jeep was a few years old, yet it looked like he’d just driven it off the showroom floor. She wouldn’t think twice about the five second rule in this vehicle if she dropped food.
“Thank you,” she said with all the enthusiasm she was feeling. She pointed the vents to blow directly at her and closed her eyes, absorbing the cold air against her heated flesh. An appreciative moan slipped through her lips as she rested against the seat.
Enzo cleared his throat, and she popped an eye open. He shook his head and looked out the window.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” He ran a hand over his face. “Do you have a spare?”
“A donut, but it’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Kind of is.”
“Kind of isn’t,” he insisted.
; “It’s round, made of rubber, and it goes in a circle to make the car move. Same thing.”
He put the shifter in reverse and backed up toward her car, coming to a stop just before tapping the bumper. “A donut is much smaller than a full-size spare, and you shouldn’t go over fifty miles per hour with it on.”
He would know all of that. “That won’t be a problem with tourist season in full effect. It takes me twenty minutes just to get across town.”
He held his hand out. “Keys?”
She dipped into her new yellow designer crossbody bag and pulled out her keys. She dangled them in front of Enzo.
His blue eyes stared at the keys with disdain. “What the hell is that?”
“My keys.”
“No that?” He pointed to the Mickey and Minnie keychain with her name on it. It was a gift from her other best friend Krissy, who had brought it home for her from Disney World. Krissy had told her she thought it was the perfect gift for her, since finding ‘Camille’ on any souvenir was nearly impossible. Or maybe Enzo was pointing to the guardian angel keychain Dad gave her when she passed her driving test in high school. Though, it could’ve been the Willow Cove bottle opener keychain.
“What’s what?” she asked.
“All of that.”
“My. Keys.”
He swiped the keys out of her hand and unhooked the car key from the rest before tossing the chains back to her.
“Hey!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll put it back when I’m done.” He shifted to get out, and she reached for her door.
He stopped and glared at her. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to help.”
“Stay in the truck with the AC.”
“Don’t think I can help?” She was an independent woman who might not have known how to change a tire, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help and maybe learn a little as she did.
“No, I don’t need you micromanaging me on something you know little to nothing about.”
Micromanager was a label her friends constantly attached to her. She didn’t see what was wrong with making sure things ran smoothly. It’s not that she thought she could do better—okay, maybe she did—but she still didn’t see a problem with that.
Her head tilted, and she tried to keep from smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your smile says otherwise. Just stay here. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”
If he wanted to go out there and sweat his butt off without her, then she wasn’t going to sit here and argue. “I’m here if you need me.”
“I won’t.”
He got out of the car, and she rolled the window down to adjust the mirror. She pointed it at her car so she could keep an eye on Enzo. Just because she wasn’t out there, didn’t mean she couldn’t monitor the situation.
He went to the trunk, and she probably should have warned him that half her life was in there. Working fourteen-hour days and balancing time to go to the gym and spend time with her friends, her car had become her second home.
The interior made it appear that she had her life together, but that trunk… She definitely should have given him a warning.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Enzo’s words drifted by with the slight breeze that rustled the cattails and seagrass.
She clenched her teeth and decided to get out of the car to help. Enzo told her not to get involved, but he offered to change her tire, not deal with the avalanche of crap she had concealed in her trunk. Most people would have seen that disaster and run the other way.
She walked up the side of the car and peered over. Enzo had all of her stuff shoved to one side and her red lace bra dangled from his finger.
“I’d say you can borrow it, but I don’t think it’s your size.”
He dropped the garment like it was made of molten lava and quickly shoved it into the pile. “Do you own anything that isn’t in the trunk?”
She shrugged. “A few things.”
“Unbelievable,” he mumbled under his breath as he continued to battle the pile to get to the donut. “I thought I told you to stay in the car.”
“I thought I’d be more helpful here.”
Enzo had always preferred to do things on his own, be the person who helped without wanting anything in return, but Cami wasn’t his sister or brothers who let him get away with that nonsense.
“I don’t need your help.”
She shrugged, unconvinced. “You might.”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll see.”
She watched as he retrieved the donut and did her best to keep her opinions to herself, though, he could have easily tossed everything in the backseat and out of the way, but she didn’t want to be accused of micromanaging, so she kept her lips zipped.
He managed to free the donut and placed it on the ground while he fished out the jack. He brought both over to the flat tire and got right to work.
Cami didn’t know much about changing a tire, but she remembered a conversation, or maybe a movie, that mentioned the jack needed to go under the frame because it was the strongest part of the car.
“Make sure you put that under the frame.”
He stopped what he was doing and glanced at her, piercing her with an ice blue glare.
“What?” she asked innocently when he didn’t say anything.
“I know how to jack a car up.”
“Just making sure.” She bent down, eyes on his movements, and making mental notes in case she was ever in this predicament again. Hopefully she wouldn’t be, but if she was, she wouldn’t need this knight in cranky pants to come and rescue her.
His hands stopped moving, and he glanced up at her. “Must you be right on top of me?”
“I’m just trying to learn,” she said. “Don’t mind me.”
“It’s kind of hard when you’re so close.”
“Why? Do I make you nervous?” She fluttered her eyelashes when he looked at her.
“No,” he deadpanned, and any amusement she was finding had been shot down.
“Okay, Mr. Crabby, I’ll just stand back here.” She motioned to the jack. “As you were.”
Enzo didn’t spare any time, jacking the car up with ease like he’d done it a million times before. Once the car was jacked up, he walked over to his Jeep and opened the back.
Curiosity had her following him. “What are you doing?” she asked and leaned against the quarter panel.
“You didn’t have a tire iron in your trunk—or you did, and I couldn’t find it beneath all the crap.”
“What’s a tire iron?”
He held up a silver T-shaped tool.
“Oh! That thing. I have one. Somewhere.” The last time she had seen it was when she was searching for her running sneakers.
“I wasn’t going to waste time looking for it.” He took the tire iron, moved passed her, and returned to the flat tire. Enzo’s muscles flexed against his t-shirt as he attempted to break the lug nut free. Sweat dripped down his face and onto his collar. He swiped his forearm across his forehead then unexpectedly, he pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, revealing cut abs that had Cami doing a double and triple take. She’d known Enzo worked out. Heck, she’d even bumped into him at the gym a few times, but she had no idea that he was hiding those ripped abs under his clothes.
As a kid, she’d seen Enzo shirtless many times from Moretti family trips to the beach, to bumping into him in the hallway in the middle of the night during a sleepover when she was on her way to the bathroom. It had been years since then, and with him always working and her always working, she never had an opportunity to bump into him on the beach.
Her eyes lingered on the taut skin and the hard ridges that lined each gloriously sculpted muscle. She’d always found Enzo attractive; he was blessed in the gene department that was for sure, but now as he kindly changed her tire, shirtless, sweat dripping across his skin, she was utterly speechless. A first for her.
The corded musc
les in his arms tightened, and he leaned his weight forward, attempting again to break the lug nut free. Cami could do nothing but stare with each grunt and strain of muscles.
The lug nut finally broke free, and he moved onto the next. The other three came off no problem, and while she was happy it was easier for him, she was disappointed she couldn’t watch his muscles bulging and stretching his tanned skin.
He quickly switched the flat tire for the donut and put the lug nuts back into place. “You might be able to get this plugged,” he said as he carried the tire to her trunk. “But the tread is starting to wear low, so you’re probably better off getting a new one.”
She had no idea when she’d have time to do that, but she’d figure it out. She always did.
She followed him to the trunk, and he battled her pile of crap to get the tire inside. Once everything was settled back into place, he slammed the trunk shut.
“All set,” he said.
“Thank you. Tomorrow, coffee is on me.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But see, I will worry about it, and every time you come in the coffee shop, all I’ll be able to think is how I need to pay you back, but you won’t let me, and if you would just let me give you a single cup of coffee at no charge, it would take away this never-ending guilt that is eating away at my insides. Do you want my insides to be eaten away at?”
His eyebrow arched, and she was sure she’d seen him make that gesture a thousand times, but this time there was something adorable about it.
“Fine, one cup of coffee,” he said.
She gave a little jump and clapped her hands together. “Good! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Get the tire fixed.”
He headed to his truck, her eyes lingering on his bare back—an image that stayed with her for the rest of the day.
Chapter 2
Almost every morning, Enzo started his day with a cup of coffee from the Local Bean. Cami’s coffee shop was right down the boardwalk from his family’s restaurant, which made it convenient when he needed a three o’clock pick me up.
He held the door open for a woman in a Willow Cove baseball cap, then went inside. There was no line this morning, probably because it was a Sunday and most people were either at church or sleeping in.
His Complete Polar Opposite Page 1
