To Be Your Girl (To Be Yours Book 1)

by Rae Kennedy

  TO BE

  YOUR

  GIRL

  rae kennedy

  Copyright © 2019 by Rae Kennedy

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: raekennedystudio@gmail.com

  FIRST EDITION

  RAKE Publishing

  www.raekennedyauthor.com

  978-1-7333189-0-7

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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

  TO BE YOUR WIFE

  CHAPTER 1

  “The fuck?” his voice is rough.

  And annoyed.

  He steps out from the darkened doorway and into the tiny hallway, wearing only tight black boxer briefs. He is also literally standing a foot in front of me. I try to back up a bit but I don’t have anywhere to go. Did I mention the hall is minuscule? I’m trying not to stare but the fixture in the ceiling puts out an impressive amount of light and every bulge and indent under his taut skin is illuminated—perfectly highlighting the clearly defined V just above the waistband of his boxers.

  Don’t stare at his crotch!

  I gaze up his body, over his smooth abs and muscular chest. Then I see his arms. His broad shoulders and lean, cut arms are covered in full-sleeve tattoos.

  He looks up, still acclimating to the light, one eye closed and the other squinting in my direction. His jaw is angular and defined, his mouth full with just-right pink lips. His dark blond hair is short on the sides and quite a bit longer on top, mussed all over. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

  I’m going to be living with...this?

  Tuck comes up behind me, placing his large warm hand on my shoulder. “Hey, looks like you already met. Great.” He looks happily between us. “Haley, this is my roommate, Cade. Cade, this is Haley. She’s moving in with us, remember?”

  I stick my hand out and notice it shake a little. Wow, I need to get a grip on myself. He’s just a human man—just the sexiest one I’ve ever seen in real life.

  And he’s mostly naked.

  He looks at my hand then back up to Tuck. “Right,” he says as a skinny blonde in a hot pink dress steps out of his room, carrying her shoes, her hair disheveled and makeup slightly smeared.

  She doesn’t seem to notice us standing there, or me with my arm still outstretched like a total moron.

  “I had fun, Cade. Call me later?”

  “Don’t have your number.” He yawns, eyes still half-shut, and steps back into his room, closing the door on the three of us.

  Um...okay.

  The blonde doesn’t seem particularly dismayed, nor does she acknowledge us. She just turns and walks down the hall then out the front door. I turn to Tuck.

  “What the hell was that?”

  His face scrunches. “Sorry...but you’ll probably have to get used to that. It’s kind of a recurring thing.”

  “Maybe I should have looked into the on-campus housing.”

  “Stop being a baby. This makes way more sense. We’re only five minutes from campus, you won’t have to pay rent, and as an added bonus, I get to keep an eye out on my kid sister.” His grin is easy and infectious. I have missed it. All I can do is roll my eyes and swat him across the arm.

  “Ouch!” he says, rubbing his bicep. “You’ve become violent since I moved out.”

  “Well then, guess I can look out for myself.”

  Tuck humphs in disagreement. “Let’s go get the rest of your bags.”

  He practically sprints down to his truck. I take more care going down the old concrete steps, which are cracked and buckled from the large maple trees in the yard. When I reach the street, Tuck has already managed to sling all four of my bags over his shoulders, the straps haphazardly crisscrossing his torso. Balancing on one foot, he stretches his long arm across the passenger seat. The bags all shift to the left and he stumbles for a second before retrieving my purse. He turns around triumphantly, his big smile revealing the deep dimples in his cheeks.

  “Are you going to let me carry anything?”

  He tosses over my purse.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Seriously?”

  “I got this.” He starts waddling up the steps, covered in my luggage.

  If he wants to be my pack mule, I guess I’ll let him.

  I look up at the house, my home for the next two years. It’s a one-story bungalow with shingles painted some earthy color that I can’t quite make out in the dark—maybe a green? The lit front porch is painted all white with thick square columns. It is adorable—not at all how I had pictured Tuck’s bachelor pad.

  The warm August breeze sweeps through my hair and rustles the trees overhead as I follow Tuck up to the front door. In the entryway, a few pairs of boots and sneakers are lined along the thick baseboard. A black leather jacket and set of keys hang on the wall above a small bench. Around the corner is a modest kitchen with cream-colored cabinets which look like they have been painted over a hundred times. I don’t see a dishwasher, but the kitchen is bright and clean and smells faintly of oranges. It opens to the living room where there is one charcoal gray sofa, a flat screen television that takes up half the wall, and a worn, cognac-colored leather club chair in the corner.

  The wood floor squeaks as Tuck emerges from the hallway.

  “Hey, all of your stuff is in the room. Want a tour?”

  “I think I just took it.”

  He returns my smile. “Yeah, it’s not much, but it works. Here...” He ushers me down the hallway and points to the first door on the left. “I’m sure you gathered this is Cade’s room.” He points across the hall. “And this is yours. Next door is the bathroom and the last door down there is my room.”

  “Only one bathroom?” Shit.

  “No, there’s one attached to my room, so you’ll be sharing with Cade.” The look on my face must convey my horror because he adds quickly, “But you can always come use mine. Just...knock first.”

  “You’re just as gross as you were at thirteen.”

  He winks at me. “Thanks, sis. Why don’t we get some sleep? Cade and I’ll both be at work in the morning but afterward, I’ll show you around town a little and then to campus. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Night, Hale.”

  “Night, Tuck.”

  I shut the door to my new room behind me. It is small, of course, but very clean. A full-sized bed sits in the middle with just enough room for a nightstand on each side, right between the light blue-gray walls and lacy white duvet. A worn-out dresser stands across from the bed. I’m afraid to open the closet and decide to wait until tomorrow to be disappointed. The windows, however, are large and stretch from floor-to-ceiling with a deep sill where I can definitely sit and read or study, and the thick white moldings are everywhere and beautiful. I can work with this.

  Being in Tuck’s house feels weird. Leave i
t to me to be almost done with my Bachelor’s then decide to transfer universities. Probably should have stuck it out, but I just didn’t love the school and didn’t click with any of the students in my program. Tucker had been ecstatic when I told him I’d applied to his alma mater. He is the main reason I’d decided on it. I’ve missed him since he moved out when he was eighteen.

  Sheesh, that was over eight years ago.

  I fall across the bed and let the pent-up stress from the move and the car ride dissolve into the soft mattress. The bedding smells like fresh laundry and the warmth envelopes me. I climb in without even taking off my clothes.

  * * *

  I awake early the next morning with soft light filtering through the lush green leaves of the trees outside my window. On the street, Tuck’s truck is already gone. The house is quiet.

  I take a lingering shower—the hot water doesn’t die out after five minutes like at my last apartment and I feel like testing the limits. I dry my dark brown hair and let it hang in loose waves down my back. The waves aren’t tight enough to be called curls so I usually just straighten my hair, but the straightener is still packed and I don’t feel like fishing for it.

  Back in my room, I put on some cute little briefs. They are white with yellow polka dots and yellow lace around the edges. I put on a tank top and then look around for my gray sweats. Three bags later I still haven’t found them. Shit.

  I give up and stalk out to the kitchen. What-the-fuck-ever. I’m starving.

  There seems to be plenty of food in the house—lots of produce and dried pasta, but not much ready-to-eat. No cereal. Hmm. I bend over, searching the fridge. Guess I can make eggs or something.

  “Whoa!” An unfamiliar deep voice is right behind me.

  I yelp and jump back, hitting my head on a fridge shelf. Cade is standing in the kitchen, fully dressed, his blond hair brushed back smoothly on top of his head, shaved short on the sides. He has a wide, mischievous grin on his face. His eyes flicker quickly down to my undies then back up to my face.

  Holy fuck. I can completely freak out right now or I can keep calm and act like it’s nothing. I’m cool. I don’t care that this stranger is staring at me in my underwear—it covers more than my swimsuit. No big deal. We’re going to live together. I should just get over it. I steady my expression and put on a nonchalant smile.

  “Hi. Um...you startled me.”

  “I should say so.” His eyes go to my bare legs again, not so subtly this time. “Haley, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  His smirk is devious. He puts his hand out to me.

  “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he says. I take his hand and shake it firmly. His warm fingers curl around mine with equal insistence and a shiver runs up the inside of my arm.

  I am being silly. Let’s get this over with. I place my hand on my hip and put my little polka-dotted undies on full display.

  “Well, it’s only fair after I met you in your underwear that you get to meet me in mine.”

  Cade bursts out a hard laugh, slapping the counter as he looks back up at me. “Fair enough,” he agrees, his smile showing through his eyes and it seems much warmer and more relaxed than it had just a moment ago. Of all the things I saw last night, I hadn’t noticed his eyes. They are so blue.

  He moves around me easily to grab an apple off the counter. “You won’t find me complaining about it. Tuck might have a different opinion though...”

  His gaze is definitely lingering on my panties, then up to my tank top. Am I wearing a bra? No. The refrigerator is still open behind me and my skin has gone prickly and my nipples are stiffening. That is my cue to go.

  “Uh, I’ll catch you later.” I haul ass out of there. I can hear him chuckling from the kitchen behind me. Nice.

  * * *

  Tuck and I head out so I can get to know my new town and school a little bit. Class will start in just a few days and I am a bit nervous, but the campus is beautiful with huge oak trees standing out against a backdrop of stately brick buildings all laid out on rich green expanses of lawn.

  The small downtown is also cute. It’s packed with students and intellectuals looking around the shops and boutiques, sketching on benches, and playing street music. The excitement of a new school year is palpable.

  We arrive home after grabbing a quick slice of gooey, greasy pizza for dinner. I have just walked in the front door, left sandal still in hand when a half-naked girl tears around the corner. Awesome.

  “You are such a jerk, Cade. I never want to see you again!” She fumbles to get her heels on and stomps toward the door.

  “That was sort of the point of the conversation we were just having.” A shirtless Cade emerges after her, his face completely unaffected as he shrugs her off and turns back toward the living room. Poor clueless girl looks even more upset than before as she runs past me and out the door.

  Yep, and I am just standing here holding my shoe. I have a feeling this is going to get old. On the plus side, I note that he never seems to let them overstay their welcome, so at least I won’t have to try and pretend to get along with any of these girls over breakfast or something. That would be awkward. I decide I will just ignore them as they seem to do me and not worry about it.

  But I can’t ignore the smug look on Cade’s face, who has slung himself over the couch, still sans shirt.

  I walk over to him. “So...you’re kind of a dick.”

  Cade’s eyebrows rise incredulously and he opens his mouth as if to say something but then abruptly shuts it. His eyes narrow and he cocks his head to the left, studying me before a smile creeps upon his face. It is similar to the mischievous one he gave me when ogling my underwear.

  “Was that a question?”

  “Nope. Just an observation.”

  “Well. You’ve got me figured out then, don’t you?”

  Tuck walks in behind me. “Who’s got what figured out?”

  “Oh, Haley here’s got me pegged. Called me a dick.”

  Tuck unsuccessfully stifles his laughter. “I’m guessing this has to do with the girl who passed me on the way out? Sorry, man. She’s pretty good about calling out bullshit.”

  “Oh, I got it.” Cade nods. “There are some perks to living with a chick though, aren’t there, Dots?” He turns toward me, that stupid smile on his stupid pretty face.

  “Dots?” Tuck looks confused.

  “Never mind,” I say, and then turn to go to my room, hoping neither of them notices the heat going to my cheeks.

  Yep, he’s a dick. Nailed it.

  CHAPTER 2

  The first week of class is fairly uneventful. The second week, however, is when I meet him.

  He sits next to me just after the professor has started the lecture.

  “Do you suppose he wears the same pants every day or that he has multiple pairs he rotates?” he whispers, hunched down all sneaky.

  I look at our professor. Milt Trobaugh does indeed seem to wear the same pair of itchy-looking pea-green wool pants every day. He pairs them with about three different cardigans he cycles through, all in different shades of brown. I can’t help the grin that turns up the corners of my mouth as I whisper from behind my notebook like a third grader.

  “I think it’s the same pair, but that he washes them every night—with his one cardigan and one pair of socks.”

  Then he smiles at me. A big, gorgeous smile with perfectly straight white teeth. They stand out against his tan skin. He has beautiful, big dark brown eyes with dark hair that just curls at his ears. His nose is straight, his features sharp and masculine. The spark in his eyes is playful, friendly, even child-like. His cologne is maybe a little heavy, but it smells amazing.

  “I’m Adam.”

  “Haley.”

  “Haley. That’s a pretty name. Perfect for a very pretty girl.” His appreciation is so sincere I can’t help but go all giddy googly-eyed at him. I may have also giggled.

  Professor Trobaugh clears his throat and begins talking a littl
e louder—definitely giving us the evil eye. Adam and I try hard to stifle our snickers. He opens his hand to me under the table.

  “Nice to meet you, Haley.” His voice sounds so sensual when he whispers my name.

  “You too.”

  His thumb strokes the back of my hand just once before we let go. Wow.

  When we get up to leave, his arm brushes mine and we exchange silly grins again.

  “Hey, I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, definitely,” I agree.

  I have to wait until Thursday to see him again. He sits in the same spot next to me like it is no big deal. We muse about Professor Trobaugh’s lazy eye and how he got it through some crazy professoring accident, no doubt. An unlikely Indiana Jones.

  On the way out of class, I don’t see Adam, even though I am totally looking. He must be lost in the sea of coeds all rushing to get the hell out of here. I am halfway to the quad when he catches up to me.

  “Hey!” he says, a little out of breath.

  “Hi.” I slow so he can walk with me.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to... I don’t know, get some coffee or something? Sometime?” He looks hopeful but a little nervous.

  “Of course!” Too eager. “I mean, yeah, I’d like that.”

  The joy on his face is boyish and heartwarming.

  “I have a couple hours until my next class. Are you free now?”

  Now? Yes, please. “Sure. I’m done for the day.”

  We walk over to a little coffee shop just off the edge of campus. It is cramped but cozy. There are tiny teal side-tables and yellow stools surrounded by mismatched chairs and cushions in varying shades of red, orange, and pink. Students are huddled in groups, reading and chatting and working on laptops. It is all grandma-friendly and hipster-cool at the same time. We go up to the counter and I am hit with warm aromas of cinnamon and butter, coffee and vanilla. The pastries in the display look like flaky, glazed-over heaven.

  I order a caramel macchiato and decide to forgo the pastry. He doesn’t need to see me drool this early on—best to leave a little mystery. When I reach for my purse to pay, Adam puts his hand over mine. It is soft and warm and covers mine perfectly.