Best Laid Plans
Sanctuary Series, Book Two
by Abbie Zanders
Copyright © 2019 by Abbie Zanders
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at https://abbiezandersromance.com
Cover Designer:
Cover Image: Lance Allen Photography, www.gfallen.com
Cover Model: Enrico Ravenna
Editors: Meg Weglarz, megedits.com, and Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Epilogue
Thanks for reading Best Laid Plans
If you liked this book...
About the Author
Also by Abbie Zanders
Acknowledgements
Special thanks go to members of my readers group, the Zanders Clan for all of their love, help and constant support. In particular:
Rebecca T., for bringing the lovely and talented Enrico Ravenna to my attention. He makes for a wonderful depiction of Heff on the cover.
Kasey B. and Carmen F., for coming up with names for local facilities.
To my friend and fellow author, Tonya Brooks, for always being there, no matter what.
My amazing ARC Angels team, who help ensure that what you’re reading is as close to error-free as it can get, and for providing such great snippets and quotes for teasers and promo.
And thank YOU. You didn’t have to pick up this book, but you did.
Chapter One
Sandy
“Well, uh, thanks.” Sandy Summers cringed as the words came out of her mouth. They sounded so lame. What were women supposed to say in a situation like this? She wasn’t well-versed in one-night-stand etiquette. But she had just had the best sex of her life, so she’d felt compelled to say something.
Propped up on one elbow and looking sexier than any man should, he watched her, his dark green eyes glistening as that glittering diamond stud in his ear caught the light. Long, glossy hair draped over his cheek and neck, as inky black as the intricate tats that adorned his tan, muscled arms and torso. His lips quirked up in a roguish half-smile, all the more devastating now that she knew exactly the kind of pleasure those lips were capable of.
“You’re welcome.”
His voice, like everything else about him, screamed dark, decadent, and delicious. The personification of sin—that was what he was. Sin and pleasure and a wellspring of guaranteed orgasms. In the last three hours, he’d given her four. His fingers were as skilled as his tongue, and the way he moved those hips ...
Heat rushed into her face while simultaneously blossoming in the still-tingling region between her thighs. His grin widened, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Maybe he did. Or maybe he was just really, really good at reading body language. He had known exactly where to touch, when to lick, and how to bite to take her right to the edge over and over ...
Stop it, she silently commanded, pushing the words down toward her rebellious regions, the ones clamoring for just one more. You’ve had more than enough.
She jabbed one leg into her jeans, a physical manifestation of her frustration as the haze of post-orgasmic bliss began to dissipate. He continued to watch her, still and predatory and, for the moment, satisfied. Although, given his remarkable endurance and recovery time, that wouldn’t last long. She needed to leave before he coaxed her back into that bed and reminded her why she’d thrown caution to the wind in the first place.
Not an easy thing to do when he was looking at her like that.
She spied her panties on the chair in the corner where they must have landed after he tossed them over his shoulder. An image of him grinning in smug triumph as he’d removed them slowly and with such deliberate intent, his eyes burning with lust, had her nipples hardening again. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with a quick recovery time.
She snatched them up with a huff and unceremoniously crammed them into her pocket before her traitorous body won the stay-versus-go tug-of-war with her mind. She didn’t need to be putting on damp panties. The trip back to her place was short enough to go commando.
He made no move to stop her, which was her saving grace. He just lay there, the sheet draped over the bottom half of his happy trail, watching her with the lazy interest of a man who had gotten off a few times too. No false platitudes or disingenuous sentiments. They both knew what this was—namely, nothing—and they were completely, totally, absolutely, one hundred percent on the same page about that.
She pulled the shirt over her head, grabbed her purse, and turned to look back at him one last time. She sensed, more than saw, a wariness lurking beneath that smoldering stare. As if he was expecting her to suggest something more. Like maybe grabbing a drink sometime or a request for a repeat.
She wouldn’t. In less than a week, she’d be starting her new life, and he’d be nothing but a lovely memory tucked away in her personal, private spank bank.
Sandy offered him a genuine smile. “Bye.”
His eyes flickered, widening slightly in either surprise or disappointment—she wasn’t sure which.
“Bye.”
Wham, bam, thank you, stud.
Without another word, she turned and left the motel room before she changed her mind and jumped him again, leaving the same way she’d come in—by the back stairs. She kept to the shadows, thankful that the owner, Mel, was too lazy
to fix the burned-out lights in the lot.
A thrill ran through her at doing something so naughty, so incredibly unlike her usual hyper-responsible self, but it was a poor substitute for the many, far more quiver-inducing thrills she’d felt in the last several hours.
She slipped into the sultry heat of the summer night, and after a shortcut through a patch of woods and the community playground, she was in her backyard less than ten minutes later. The motion-sensor floodlight flared to life, momentarily blinding her.
“Out for a walk?” Lenny’s voice cut softly through the darkness, edged with concern.
So much for slipping in, undetected.
Sneaking around in the dark, like having one-night stands, was not in her wheelhouse, though, in fairness, it had never been an issue before.
It’s not an issue now, she mentally reminded herself. She was a grown woman, one who didn’t need to worry about things like small-town gossip and community disapproval for much longer. She didn’t owe an explanation to anyone, including Lenny.
“Yep, out for a walk.” She increased her pace, blinking against the brightness.
His shadow shifted on the shared back deck, his cigarette casting a red glow over the lower half of his face as he took a drag.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the smoke reached her nostrils. “I thought you quit.”
“Working on it.”
“Work harder, will you? I’ve got my windows open, and I don’t want my kitchen smelling like an ashtray.”
He immediately extinguished the cigarette. It was tough love at its best. She really hated the habit, but she cared about him. She’d already lost one person to cancer. She wasn’t ready to lose another.
“Is everything all right, Sandy?”
Fabulous. I just had sex with a virtual stranger, and I think he’s ruined me for other men.
She couldn’t tell Lenny that, of course. Not only was he her neighbor and a local police officer, he was also a lifelong friend.
“Yeah, of course,” she said instead.
She opened the screen door, then jammed her key into the ancient lock of the heavy inner door. She turned the knob, adding a good shove with her shoulder to coax it open. The old wooden frame often swelled with the heat and humidity, and this night was no exception. That was one of the downsides of living in a hundred-plus-year-old double-block home.
The upside? Soon, it would be someone else’s problem.
The door didn’t budge, so she rammed it again, this time with more force. She grunted with the impact, knowing she’d probably wonder why she had a bruise there in the morning.
“Here, let me.”
Lenny was suddenly there beside her, crowding her personal space. She stepped back, accepting his help with reluctance and feeling irrationally guilty, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible. He made good use of his bigger, stronger frame, and with one good shove, he got the door open.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. You know, I’ve got a hand planer. I could shave off part of the frame so that doesn’t happen.”
“I’m sure the next tenant would appreciate that.”
His face clouded over with the reminder. “Still haven’t changed your mind, huh?”
“No, and I’m not going to.” She’d worked too hard and come too far to turn back now. It had taken nearly ten years of working two part-time jobs and attending night school, but she finally had her degree and was ready to start a paid internship at one of the biggest graphic design firms in New York City.
She was finally getting out of Sumneyville! Selling the old duplex to Lenny was a smart decision. She didn’t plan on returning—ever—and the money from the sale was enough to provide a small cushion of financial security. She’d already used a chunk as a security deposit, plus first month’s rent, on a semi-decent loft in the city. If she was careful with her living expenses, she’d be in good shape until she could work her way up to her own accounts.
Sandy stepped over the threshold and flipped on the kitchen light. “Speaking of, have you found a renter yet?”
He shook his head, keeping his feet firmly planted on the patio. Lenny wouldn’t enter unless she offered an explicit invitation to do so. Under normal circumstances, she might invite him in for a cup of coffee or iced tea but not tonight. Her body was still humming in post-orgasmic bliss, and she wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could. She’d been busting her backside for years, working long, grueling hours with little or no time for dating, hook-ups, or socialization in general. Who knew how long it would be before she felt this good again?
“No,” he replied. “I plan on fixing a few things first, and that’ll be easier to do if the place is vacant. I can take my time, do it right.”
The place did need some serious upgrades. The water heater was on its last legs, half the outlets didn’t work, and the kitchen and bathrooms hadn’t been touched since the seventies. Lenny was a pretty handy guy, and he’d be able to save a lot of money by doing the work himself. He’d been offering to do just that for years, in fact, but a lack of funds and an overabundance of pride had kept Sandy from taking him up on his very generous offers. Now that the place was all his, he could do whatever he wanted with it.
“Smart, but you’re sacrificing the monthly income.”
“I’ll manage.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes wandering over the ancient wood cabinetry and gold and avocado appliances. “Besides, if things don’t work out, you’ll have a place to come back to.”
“Things will work out.” They have to.
“Aren’t you going to miss it?”
“Not even a little.”
“But you grew up here. Your roots are here.”
Roots that were planted in harsh soil that stunted my growth, she thought silently, but Lenny didn’t understand that. As far as he was concerned, small-town life in Sumneyville was the closest thing to heaven on earth.
“Think of it as my branches reaching for the sky.”
His frown deepened. “What’s the big city got that we haven’t?”
“Art. Culture. Diversity. Possibilities.”
She couldn’t wait to experience all of it.
Sandy had been fascinated by the energy and pulse of the city from her first visit. She’d been fourteen at the time, and her high school art club had raised enough money for a field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was so different from their boring, homogeneous town. So vibrant. Something had sparked to life in her then, and she’d vowed she would live and work there someday.
Now, that day had finally come, and she couldn’t be more excited.
“Crime, traffic, terrorism,” he countered stubbornly.
“Bad things happen in small towns too, Len.”
He cast accusatory eyes her way. “Yeah? Do you really think you’re going to be able to take your late-night walks around New York City alone? You don’t know anyone out there. Who’s going to have your back?”
Sandy squared her shoulders and raised her chin as she looked him in the eye. “No one’s had my back for a long time.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes. He exhaled heavily, wisely biting back whatever else he wanted to say on the subject.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked instead, his northeast Pennsylvania accent making the question come out sounding like, Jeetyet?
“Yeah,” she lied.
Lenny’s gaze dropped. His lips turned downward and his brows drew together. She followed his gaze and saw the tip of her lacy red panties peeking out of her pocket. Heat rushed up her neck and into her cheeks as she stuffed them further down out of sight, though the damage had already been done. His eyes flicked back up to hers in an unspoken question.
Oh, hell no, I’m not going there.
“Well, it’s been a long day, and I’ve got a lot to do before I leave.”
His eyes narrowed, but once again, he wisely refrained from commenting. “All right. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Night, Len.”
“Good night, Sandy.”
She closed the door and leaned against it. Within a few minutes, she heard his screen door close and released the breath she’d been holding. She was grateful for the temporary reprieve, but she knew Lenny well enough to know he wouldn’t just let it go that easily. It wouldn’t take much to piece things together. The trick would be avoiding him as much as possible before she packed up and left Sumneyville for good.
A familiar happiness bubbled through her at the thought. Freedom was so close that she could practically taste it. A new beginning. A fresh start.
She couldn’t wait.
Chapter Two
Heff
Heff watched the motel door close behind her, then blew out a breath and fell back on the bed. What the hell had I been thinking?
Hell, he knew what he’d been thinking. Big brown eyes, the color of melted chocolate. Curves for days. Small-town wholesome on the outside, sexy wildcat on the inside.
For once, he wished his instincts hadn’t been spot-on. His former commanding officer and current business partner was going to be pissed if and when he found out. Matt “Church” Winston had already warned all the guys about keeping a low profile in and around town, and that definitely included not dipping sticks in any of the local wells.
Heff had been all too happy to comply with that mandate too—until she smiled at him and asked him what he wanted in that low, sultry voice. His immediate thought had nothing to do with the menu she’d placed in front of him and everything to do with tasting her.
Still, he’d resisted. Not just once, but every time they ate at Franco’s, which was fairly often these days. The place had great food, better prices, and after a hard day’s work of trying to turn Church’s decrepit family resort into a place for vets returning from service, it was the perfect spot to fill their bellies and put down a few cold ones. The universe had to be conspiring against him because she was always their server, unknowingly tempting him with her enticing scent and luscious curves beneath the form-fitting jeans and Franco’s polo.
Temptation—that’s what she was. Pure temptation in female form, all the more desirable because he couldn’t have her. Church’s warning was good advice. The last thing they needed was to complicate things and muddy the waters by getting involved with the locals. The small town and the surrounding area were rife with backwater politics and nepotism. Getting the necessary permits and licenses was proving to be difficult enough as it was. The Sanctuary project was running into one snafu after another, and some of the townspeople didn’t seem particularly stoked about having them around.
Best Laid Plans: Sanctuary, Book Two Page 1
