Lust & Trust

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Lust & Trust Page 1

by Amanda Cain




  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Lust & Trust

  a love story

  Amanda Cain

  Copyright ©2018 by Amanda Cain

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events are entirely coincidental.

  Copy Editing by: Max Dobson, The Polished Pen

  Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

  To my husband and sister for their support and patience.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Emma

  Last night’s rain caused a dense fog over the winding mountainous road from Denver to Estes Park, and I had difficulty seeing the road.

  “Em, if you drive any slower, Linda will be missing two bridesmaids at her wedding!” my bestie, Char, said, laughing. Linda, the bride, was the receptionist at the PR firm where Char and I worked as programmers. If we didn’t make better time traveling up the mountain, we were going to be late for her wedding.

  “It’s a little hard to see through the fog. Unless you want to pull a Thelma and Louise and drive off the cliff, you’ll hush and let me concentrate. Or do you want to drive?”

  “No, no, take your time. I love you, but I’m not ready to die just yet. And just because I’m too afraid to drive these roads doesn’t mean I can’t criticize your driving.” She laughed.

  By the time we got to Estes Park, the fog had dissipated and the sun darted in and out from behind the white and gray clouds, which kept the temperature perfect for an outside wedding. We drove straight to the guesthouse where we changed into our bridesmaid dresses. Linda walked in wearing her wedding gown.

  “Oh my God, you look beautiful,” I said as I hugged her.

  “Thanks! I’m so glad you guys are here. Last night’s weather had me worried.”

  Char hugged Linda. “You don’t look nervous at all. No wedding jitters?”

  “Jitters? No way. Even if the rain hadn’t let up, I would still walk down that aisle to marry Sean.” Linda laughed, but she wasn’t kidding. I kind of liked the visual of an outside wedding in the pouring rain.

  Everything went off without a hitch. The scenic backdrop of the Rockies was the perfect complement to the purple and pink wildflowers that lined the pathway to the trellis, where they recited their vows.

  I watched Linda as she walked down the aisle and thought of the huge contrast between her wedding and my own. For starters, she actually looked happy during her wedding, whereas I looked miserable. A nervous wreck. The knots in my stomach grew more prominent with every step I took down the aisle. I should have listened to my body. A year and half later, Craig and I divorced.

  ***

  Char put her arm around me as we walked to the parking lot. “Now that Linda and Sean are off to consummate their marriage, how about you and I find someplace with a band and check out the local talent?”

  The bride and groom weren’t having a reception until they returned from honeymooning. Char and I weren’t driving back to Denver until morning, so we had the rest of the day and night to play.

  “Sounds good, but it’s too early to find a band. Let’s ditch these bridesmaid dresses for something more comfortable and then browse the shops in town.”

  We found a room at a nearby hotel. I squeezed into my tightest jeans and paired them with a soft white top, slipping on my best pair of SJP four-inch heels. I paid too much for them, but they were fabulous and wearing them gave me confidence.

  “Ready?” Char asked as she came out of the bathroom.

  “Yep. Let’s go sort through all the knickknacks and baubles at the tourist stores and see if we can find any hidden gems.”

  Charlotte and I had been best friends since kindergarten, when she told me she saw Robby Boyd steal my crayons and then helped me execute an elaborate scheme to steal them back.

  At five-foot-nine, Char was striking with chiseled features and long brown hair. For years talent agents approached her, wanting to represent her in a modeling career, but the lifestyle never interested her. Fortunately, she was as goodhearted and down to earth as she was beautiful. Char’s long legs and supermodel body next to my shorter, curvier figure attracted a lot of attention whenever we were together.

  In town, we explored one of the shops, where I browsed through collectibles and jewelry, and Char wandered off into the posters and pictures section. I was excited to find a delicate glass mosaic hummingbird feeder. I loved watching the tiny birds, so full of life and energy, as they flew back and forth, changing direction in an instant.

  Delighted with my find, I went to the register to pay. Fumbling through my wallet, I dropped my credit card.

  “Oh crap!” I bent down to pick up my card, lost my balance, and started to fall.

  “Careful,” a deep voice said as he grabbed my arm from behind and put his other arm around my waist to steady me.

  “Oh …” I started to giggle. “How clumsy of me. I guess I should learn how to walk and chew gum at the same …”

  I turned around to thank the man behind me, who had most likely kept me from breaking my tailbone. I couldn’t finish my sentence. He was gorgeous. Not just gorgeous, but romance novel, book cover gorgeous! Tall with dark hair and deep green eyes that were now staring at me.

  Instead of thanking him like the polite person my mother raised, I said, “Oh shit.” I felt like an idiot. He stood there gracing me with a smile that would make both Chris Pine and Tom Cruise envious.

  He raised one eyebrow at me, tilted his head a tad, and repeated, “Oh shit?”

  “I mean, thank you,” I stuttered, my face burning from embarrassment
. I had no doubt my cheeks were bright red by now.

  I felt too self-conscious to try and engage in any kind of coherent conversation, so I turned around, paid the cashier, and got out of there as fast as possible. Once outside, I realized Char was still in the store, so I sat on the bench across the street and waited for her. I had hoped I put enough distance between the store and myself so my “savior” wouldn’t notice me when he came out.

  Two minutes later, he stood in front of me with my car keys in his hands. “Thought you might need these.” He laughed.

  Although embarrassed, I laughed with him. “Um, well thank you again for saving my butt and my keys.” My face began to burn. I never blushed easily, if at all. This new habit of constant blushing was becoming very annoying. Flustered, I stood up and tried to make a quick exit.

  He touched my arm as I turned to walk away, forcing me to face him. “My pleasure.” He winked. “Hearing you laugh and seeing you blush made the trip across the street worth it. You have a great laugh, and you turn a lovely shade of pink when you blush.” His smile seemed sincere, not cocky, and I started to relax. But then he turned and left. I didn’t think to check his ring finger, but even if he was single, I’m sure he had plenty of women after him.

  And what the hell was my problem? Good-looking men didn’t normally cause me to blush or act like some lovesick fifteen-year-old schoolgirl. I probably left a lasting impression on him—just not a good one, between my clumsiness, stuttering, and blushing. Oh well, not like it mattered.

  Char came out of the store and waved at me. I headed across the street to meet her. I didn’t mention my awkward encounter with the strikingly handsome stranger. Since most of what had made the encounter seem awkward was in my head, there didn’t seem like much to tell.

  We continued down the street, passing several tourist shops and wandered into a local art gallery. Char kept trying to hush me as I laughed too loudly, making fun of some of the modern abstract art. Afterward, we stopped at a nearby café.

  The restaurant’s patio area wasn’t very large. We grabbed a table facing the sidewalk. The sun was still playing hide-and-seek with the clouds, continuing to keep the heat at bay.

  “Linda seemed really excited I’m happy for her,” I said, sipping my lemonade.

  “Me too. I remember her first date with Sean. She came to work late the next day, and her idiot boss stood in front of her desk, screaming at her.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember. She sat there all happy and smiling. I’m not even sure she heard the asshole yelling at her, which probably pissed him off even more. She swore she would marry Sean within a year.”

  “She wasn’t wrong. It’s been less than a year. The heart wants what it wants,” Char said, sighing.

  “Seems crazy to me, but as long as they’re happy. Hey, show me what you bought,” I said as I took a bite of my Caesar salad.

  “Why? You will hate it and make fun of it.” Knowing me all too well, she was reluctant to show me, but with some coaxing, she held up a small poster with a saying about not loving someone who is toxic for you.

  I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing. “Toxic can be a lot of fun if you let it,” I joked.

  “What am I going to do with you, bestie?” She shook her head. “Most of us want to find Mr. Right, but you keep trying not to.”

  “What are you talking about? You found your Mr. Right a long time ago.”

  “I get how fortunate I am, but many of our friends are still looking.”

  “Our friends might be looking, but I’m not. I’m happy, Char.”

  “Speaking of someone who could be toxic, but fun …” She nudged me to look at the guy sitting at the table behind me.

  My breath caught in my throat. Seriously!?

  The guy from the souvenir shop was sitting behind us. Our eyes met. In the sunlight his eyes reflected such an unusual, brilliant green, I wondered if he wore colored contacts. Nah, there was nothing metrosexual about this guy. He had a strong jawline covered with a light stubble. His wavy brown hair was not weighted down with any hair gel, and a few strands framed his face. Perfect for running my fingers through.

  His large rugged hands had been holding his Kindle but were now rubbing his chin as he watched me. Once our eyes met, it felt like we were engaged in some sort of contest to see who would look away first. We both nodded and smiled in recognition, but then we just stared at each other. It should have felt awkward but it didn’t. I enjoyed the view.

  “Getting back to our conversation…” Charlotte poked me, jolting me back to the real universe “…so your marriage to Craig didn’t work. I never thought you two were compatible, but don’t you ever want to find love again? Or be in a long-term relationship?”

  “I’ve always had some issues with commitment, but you know my parents … with them as my role models, can you blame me? Besides, what was Michael if not long-term? We dated for a year, remember?”

  “A year on and off, and you were never genuinely committed.”

  “Char, you know I never cheated on Michael. That’s not who I am.”

  “I meant emotionally committed. The minute he wanted to raise things to the next level, you ran.”

  “Ugh, do we have to have this conversation? I told Michael from the start that marriage was not something I wanted. We started out enjoying each other, but then that changed. He began pushing marriage, and it wasn’t fun anymore. Why does your happiness depend on me having a man in my life?” I asked growing weary. “I’m commitment phobic.”

  “I understand how being around your parents arguing for all those years probably influenced your commitment issues. “Shit…“Char shook her head “…your mom has been much happier since she left your dad.”

  “I know. It’s been thirteen years, and she’s never remarried. She does what she wants, travels, throws parties. She is such a different person now. Like the whole concept of marriage just didn’t work for her.”

  “Apparently, marriage isn’t for your dad either. Isn’t he in the process of divorcing his fourth wife?” We both laughed, but it was true. Marriage didn’t seem to work for either of my parents.

  “Well, not all of us were blessed with parents who walked straight off the set of Father Knows Best. How do your parents stay so happy?”

  “Love, Em. They really love each other, and they’re best friends, even after all the years they’ve been together.”

  “Are you sure your name isn’t Betty Anderson?” I teased. “I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if I’m like my mom. Maybe some people aren’t meant to be married.”

  “I just want you to be happy, but poor Bob loses a friend every time you break up with someone. I know he and Craig didn’t hit it off, but he liked Michael, and I enjoyed the four of us hanging out. I liked doing things as a foursome.”

  “Oh, now I get it. You’re not worried about my love life. You just want to be able to double date.”

  “Shut up and eat your salad.” She laughed.

  Bob was Char’s fiancé. They met two years ago at the Whisky Lounge, where a bunch of us girls were celebrating Char’s twenty-third birthday. Bob had landed a major client, Hayes Construction, some mega company with operations throughout the Midwest. He was with some of his law firm partners, and they were all pretty happy about the new client. I could tell Bob and Char would end up together. He was tall, but still only about an inch taller than Char. Really cute with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. In the two years I’d known him, he had kept a nicely trimmed beard. I had my suspicions that there was a slight baby face hiding underneath. They spent the night slow dancing through the fast songs. Gag me, right? I couldn’t help being a little jealous and anxious that I might lose my best friend to a man, but I was still happy for her.

  My savior from earlier passed by our table, leaving the café. Walking by us, he nodded. “Ladies,” he said, smiling.

  “Wow!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Even his ass is a ten! I’m sure he’s broken a few hearts. Your type!” she
joked.

  “He’s every woman’s type and a few men’s too,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know his name, but I kind of ran into him earlier. I almost fell picking up my credit card, and he steadied me so I wouldn’t fall.”

  “See, that’s why I lecture you about wearing those heels! But if they helped you fall into his arms, maybe I’ll stop lecturing. So did you talk to him?”

  “No, not really. I must have been pretty embarrassed about slipping ’cause I couldn’t stop blushing and acting like an idiot.”

  “Hmm, if I’d of known about this earlier, I would have insisted you go to his table and thank him.”

  “Well then, I’m glad I didn’t mention it. I don’t need you matchmaking,” I said, laughing.

  It had gotten dark, so we decided to leave the restaurant in search for somewhere to dance. We found a small bar off Main Street that was featuring a local band. Soon after ordering her first drink, Char departed for the dance floor.

  Chapter 2

  Emma

  Sitting at the bar by myself, I sipped my wine. For a moment, I let my mind drift to the mystery man that prevented my fall and later made an appearance at the café. I wondered what it would be like to stare into those wicked emerald eyes while letting his hands roam freely over my naked body, tantalizing and torturing me with the promise of pleasures to come. No harm in fantasizing, right? Or maybe there was. The excitement I felt for this handsome stranger had found its way between my legs, and I was now squirming in my seat. Best to push this fantasy aside while I was in public.

 

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