LOVE ANTIQUE (Rules of Love Book 3)
Page 1
LOVE
ANTIQUE
Lindsey Hart
CONTENTS
BOOK DESCRIPTION
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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
EPILOGUE
LIST OF BOOKS
CLAIM YOUR FREEBIES
BOOK DESCRIPTION
My first impression of him: Rude, hostile and a huge jerk ... with a sexy booty!
He was the one who called ME to sell his huge array of antique stuff. But when we get into an argument with him calling me cheap, it was clear he regretted even finding our little shop.
And after this first encounter with the guy, I thought I would never again lay eyes on that delicious ass.
But like always, fate had a way to intervene where it should not. Especially when I discover a secret box in one of the many antique pieces of furniture I picked from his place.
It was old and the secrets contained in them too precious ... so I asked him to over to my place to pick it up ... who knew this would end up with him kissing me in my own bathroom right in the middle of the night!
This is the third and last book in the steamy romance series, Rules of Love and can be read as a standalone. No cheating. No cliff-hanger. And the kind of ending you will just love. Team HEA all the way!!
COPYRIGHT
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted by email without permission in writing from the publisher. While all attempts and efforts have been made to verify the information held within this publication, neither the author nor the publisher assumes any responsibility for errors, omissions, or opposing interpretations of the content herein. The book is for entertainment purposes only. The views expressed are those of the author alone and should not be taken as expert instruction or commands.
Copyright © Passion House Publishing Ltd 2019
All rights reserved.
You can contact the team at team@passionhousepublishing.com.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lindsey Hart is a married mom and lives in Ohio with her husband and two furry ball Persian cats who consider themselves as owners of the house.
She specializes in sweet to extra hot and dirty romance and strongly believes in happily ever after. If you are looking for a page turner, then you are in for a wild and naughty ride with feisty heroines and alpha male heroes.
Sign up on the Passion House Publishing newsletter to be the first to know about new releases, free book offers, sales, exclusive giveaways, early sneak peeks of new releases, cover reveals and so much more!
CHAPTER 1
Laney
“So, girls, who can I con into going on a pick for me?” It was a damn good thing Rayvn had the receiver on hold, so the caller on the other end couldn’t hear her passing them off. Or at least attempting to.
Laney McLean turned away from the display of homemade jams she’d been working so hard to arrange. Charlotte’s husband, Ben, had been kind enough to make them a new display. He was always making this or that for the store. Which was lucky, because while the three of them made for good business partners, they didn’t have a lot of extra time to spare.
What started out as a small business downtown, something local and artsy that people liked to stop into and browse around, had really taken off over the years. The decision was made to buy a new location and expand their inventory. Part of that included their very successful antique side of the business. When someone wanted something unique for their house, they came on down to the store. They were currently running a list half a mile long with people’s wish list items. That might actually not be exaggerated had Laney bothered to print it off her laptop.
“What’s wrong with your legs and hands? Last time I checked they were working just fine.” Charlotte smirked at her friend from the other side of the counter.
“Honestly, nothing, but I finally got a babysitter for Harmony tonight and Shane and I haven’t been out in ages. Ages. Please, please, please don’t make me turn him down. I need this. I need a night out.”
“Ben and I have plans as well. Tickets to the symphony. I’ve also been dying to see it in forever.”
“Maybe I can reschedule.” Rayvn reached down, about to pick up the receiver.
“Stop!” Laney nearly shouted.
She felt her face heat up after. It was one of the drawbacks of having a really pale complexion. As in porcelain. She had the flaming red orange hair and the smattering of freckles to match. Over the years she’d grown accustomed to the whole carrot top and ginger jokes. And just about every other name under the sun. She’d made her peace with being a redhead a long time ago.
“Are you going to take one for the team?” Rayvn stared back hopefully.
Laney nodded slowly. “I guess so. Although you could reschedule. But we’re all so busy. We need to hire someone to do this for us.”
“Picks are still my favorite though,” Rayvn protested. She gave her head a shake and her dark hair flew all over her shoulders. “It just happens that this guy is all about it being urgent and if we don’t come tonight, we’re going to miss out kind of a thing. He contacted me a couple of weeks ago and I set it up for today, and then I totally forgot.”
“Yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to reschedule,” Laney agreed. “I guess I’ll do it. Please tell me it’s not out in the middle of nowhere.”
“This is Texas, honey, everything is out in the middle of nowhere.”
“You and your damn date night. Both of you.” Laney was only kidding. At least, she thought she was. Both her friends knew how unlucky she’d been in love. If it could even be termed that. Her disastrous dates maybe couldn’t really classify.
Rayvn and Charlotte grinned back at her. They were all so different, all three of them. Not just in appearance, but also in their personalities and their lifestyles. Maybe that was why they could all work together, day in and day out, and not kill each other. Rayvn had hair as dark as her name suggested. Charlotte was blonde and curvy and Laney… she looked nothing like either of her friends.
She was more waiflike than womanly, had hair down to her waist and vibrant green eyes. She was petite, barely reaching past five five. She’d actually done some modeling for those fantasy style shoots, the kind where the photographer dresses the models up as fairies and elves and things. Apparently, she was perfect for it.
“We’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Rayvn picked up the receiver before Laney had a chance to change her mind. She confirmed the time for the pick and scrawled down a few other details on a notepad that was always next to the phone. Probably the address and directions.
Laney closed her eyes. She just hoped it wasn’t too far out into the countryside. Most picks were since they were usually going through older houses, old barns, that kind of thing. Even the estate sales they sometimes went to were usually out of city limits.
God, I’m ancient. Where the hell did my twenties go? It wasn’t that Laney felt the whole biological clock thing ticking away. It would just have been nice to have someone to do things with. And by things she meant everything.
Rayvn hung up, tore the piece of paper off the notepad and walked out from behind the counter. “Here you go. He said to come at four. I think it’s going to take about an hour and a half to get there.” She winced at Laney’s sharp look. “Sorry. Seriously, I really am. I would have gone…”
“No, I haven’t done a pick for a while. Maybe it will be okay. Although, I just hope I find some light things or that there is someone there to load it for me. I’m getting tired of hauling everything around by myself.”
“That’s what we have the dolly for,” Charlotte beamed.
“Seriously? That thing is almost no help at all, especially when I have to run it over all the uneven ground that is everyone’s damn yard.”
“Maybe the guy I talked to on the phone will be a hottie. He kind of had that deep sexy style of voice…”
“Rayvn!” Laney said sharply. “God. I don’t need another blind date. I’m done with that. And the whole online thing. And the being set up by friends. And the meeting people at bars. And-”
“Well, where else are you going to meet someone?” Charlotte gaped at her. “You can’t give up on the online dating. That’s how I met Ben and now we’re married.”
“Yeah and I bid on Shane at a date auction,” Rayvn added.
“He was a dick at first.”
“He might have been, but we’re happy now.”
“I know,” Laney grinned. “I was just kidding. Kind of. But seriously, I’m done with the meeting people in random ways. I guess if it’s meant to be, someone will just walk into my life.”
“That’s a terrible plan,” Charlotte protested. She was all about being proactive, organized and having a plan. Which was great for the store. She was even that way in her personal life. Unfortunately, it just didn’t work for Laney.
“I’ve tried everything. You know I have. This guy is probably fucking seventy years old. He has that deep sexy voice from smoking too many pipes on the front porch.”
“Well, his name is Hector so…”
“Hector?” Laney said in disbelief. “Okay, that is definitely an old man name. No chance he’s hot. Zero.”
“Maybe he has a hot grandson?” Charlotte stared at her hopefully.
“You are ridiculous.” Laney rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Both of you. I’m off men for now, thank you very much. I’ve had enough drama and shitheads and bastards and assholes and guys who act like children to last me for a lifetime.”
“I know. I wish I could just conjure someone up for you.”
“Tell your sister-in-law to host another date auction. Maybe I could find someone the way you did and we’d hate each other at the start and then somehow have a happily ever after anyway.”
“Hey. That happily ever after is hard work,” Rayvn protested.
“I know. And if anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
Rayvn had a pretty shitty start to love as well. She’d gone through a marriage dissolving, a pregnancy loss. She deserved to find Shane and be happy and have her rainbow baby. Laney wasn’t jealous. She just wished that her own luck wasn’t so damn rotten all the time. She seemed to attract the worst kind of people. Except they weren’t like that at the start. No, at the start they showed all sorts of promise and it wasn’t until later that their true colors came out.
Charlotte held up a set of crossed fingers. “Here’s to hoping for the hot grandson.”
Despite the fact that Laney rolled her eyes, she couldn’t help but admit, deep down, that she had her fingers crossed too.
CHAPTER 2
Hector
After eighty years, the Erwin family farm was no more. Hector Erwin’s parents had been gone for thirty-nine years. His father had a brother, until at age ten, Henry Erwin drowned swimming in the dugout at the neighbor’s across the gravel road. Hector wasn’t sure how it happened. His grandma teared up whenever he asked, which was all of twice. His grandfather had always been tight-lipped. He wasn’t from the era of men who talked about feelings or showed any kind of emotion.
Edna and Harold Erwin, having no living children, became his legal guardians when his parents were killed in a car accident. It was one of those unlucky things with just enough factors aligned at the same time. He was actually staying with his grandparents at the time while his parents went away on vacation. They were just driving into the city, Houston, an hour away, for a concert. They were going to stay overnight. Unfortunately, it was raining and foggy and their car tires were bald. They never had a chance. Once they lost control on a gravel road, the car rolled. Both were killed on impact.
Hector never had a chance to know them. He did understand, even as a young child, how much pain his grandmother and grandfather, were in. The kind of pain that never diminished. The passing of time numbed it out, but it never made it disappear. He didn’t talk about his parents and neither did they. He knew almost nothing about them.
There were no photo albums that he knew of. None that existed before him. He had his baby photos, photos his grandparents took and cherished. Lord, they loved him. He was their one and only. He had one surviving great aunt and an uncle on his mom’s side who had long ago lost touch.
The farm was pretty much a lost cause, but his grandfather kept up with it as long as he could. When he had a heart attack eight years before, they sold all the cattle off. They lived on that meager amount of money and what savings his grandma had. He knew it was time he left, went to the city and got a job like a real man should, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t leave his grandmother and he knew she’d never leave the farm. They’d spread his grandfather’s ashes there. He didn’t know if his parents had been cremated or not. They were likely spread there as well if they weren’t buried.
At eighty-eight, his grandmother led a good long life. And then she was gone too. He’d had her cremated, as she wanted. He hadn’t yet spread the ashes. He would before he sold the farm.
It was something he knew he had to do. He didn’t have the money to care for it, to fix the crumbling barns and outbuildings. He didn’t have the money to sustain it or get himself established in a way that would produce further profit. He had no choice. The land was pretty much used up. The small farmhouse, the place his grandfather had been born, wasn’t much. He had a little bit of money that his grandma left him in the will. And he had the farm. Soon it would be gone too.
He just wasn’t ready to put it up for sale. Not yet. He had a few things he could sell first. He knew that the barn was worth something. The wood was cedar and the thing was huge. People liked that stuff for crafting and what not. The things inside, old furniture, an ancient wagon, other wagon wheels, even the antiques in the house, they were all worth something.
In a spur of the moment decision, he’d started browsing classifieds sites to see what antiques were currently going for. He chanced on a wanted ad and called the number. The lady on the other end sounded sweet and cheerful. Two things he was not. He agreed to let her come out and take a look. He hoped she was bringing a big truck and a fistful of cash because he sure as hell needed it.
Hector waited. The lady was supposed to show up at five, but five came and went. He paced the living room. He moved from there into the kitchen and paced in front of the fridge. He pulled a carrot out of the bag in the crisper and munched on it. He
pulled out another.
It was nearly six before a huge grey truck and matching enclosed trailer rolled down the driveway. They hadn’t had much rain the entire month and the heat was unbearable. The yard was a dustbowl like pretty much every single July. Clouds of dust kicked up behind the massive vehicle and monstrous trailer. The thing was probably twenty feet long.
He stalked to the window to get a better look at the intruder. He might have called the lady, but she was supposed to show up at the right time. The fact that she was late drove him nuts. He couldn’t stand strangers and strangers who obviously didn’t value his time… they were even worse.
Hector was out the front door, ready to give the woman a piece of his mind when the truck door opened, and she descended from the driver’s side.
A pair of brand-new looking cowboy boots, not the real kind either, some cheap knock off from a department store, hit the red dust of the driveway. His eyes flew up from there and he couldn’t have been more surprised. He imagined a woman in her fifties, maybe sixties, grey hair, a little pudgy, probably even had a few grandkids.
The woman who jumped out of that truck and smiled shyly at him wasn’t in her fifties or sixties. God, she was probably in her late twenties. That was only based solely on her face. Her body looked like that of a fourteen-year-old girl. She was slender, tiny, had that waiflike figure of a woman who stayed that way her entire life. It was her hair that caught his attention. Lord, her hair. It was thick and astounding and trailed like fire, way past her waist. It was a little wavy, thick and soft looking, the kind of thing that women in medieval paintings used to have. She wore a knee-length pink dress with a light floral print and a white scarf around her neck. Her face was sweet, pixie-like, alabaster skin, high cheekbones, a dainty nose and sharp jawline, full lips, and god… the most glorious emerald eyes.