Folly and Forever (Omega Mu Alpha Brothers Book 3)

by Kimberly Loth

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Sneak Peek: Chapter 1

  Sneak Peek: Chapter 2

  About the Author

  Also by Kimberly Loth

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Loth

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced in any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is completely coincidental.

  Cover design by Rebecca Frank

  Interior Design by Write Dream Repeat Book Design LLC

  For Lonnie

  Thanks for being my second mom. Between the both of you, I learned everything I ever needed to know.

  For the thousandth time, Bethany wondered why on earth she chose to major in tourism. It had seemed such an exotic career at the time. Her college advisor, Dr. Crotts, made it sound so appealing. She envisioned herself working on a cruise ship or managing a five-star hotel in Paris. In reality, the farthest she’d ever been from Charleston, South Carolina, was the summer she turned twelve, and her parents took her to Disney World.

  Instead of traveling the world, she was stuck working for the Board of Tourism, handing out brochures on the best things to see in Charleston.

  She frowned at the couple arguing in front of her. They were probably in their fifties. Bethany guessed they were celebrating an anniversary or something, but they were giving her a headache. She loved her parents, and missed them fiercely, but at times like this she wanted to take the advice they’d given her and throw it out the window. Her parents had convinced her that dance was an impractical degree, but somehow thought tourism was better. She’d probably be making more money dancing.

  She waited for a pause in the argument and jumped in.

  “If you are looking for a romantic tour, go for the private carriage ride. If all you want is a nice tour around Charleston to learn the history, then you should book the group tour.”

  The wife glared at the husband. He frowned and dug out his credit card. “We’ll go with the private carriage ride.”

  Bethany took his card without looking at him. “Excellent choice Mr.…” She glanced down at the card. “Miller. You won’t be disappointed.” She set the card on the counter and smiled at the wife. Then she picked up her walkie and called for a carriage. The boys always hung around outside the office, so it wouldn’t be long before one showed up. Bethany ran the credit card, had Mr. Miller sign the receipt, and directed them to sit in the chairs by the door.

  Less than a minute later, the door opened, and Bethany’s heart raced. She hated the way her body betrayed her in moments like this. She should be used to all of the carriage operators. But they were all so male and cute. She had to be professional, but her palms were already sweating. At least she didn’t have to shake anyone’s hand.

  Dylan sauntered up and gave her a million-watt smile. She dropped her eyes, instantly uncomfortable. He was the worst flirt of all of them.

  “Is this my one o’clock?”

  Bethany waved the couple over to the counter. “Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Miller, meet Dylan Halford. He’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

  Dylan held out his arm for the wife, and she took it with a giggle. The husband frowned. Bethany made the mistake of glancing at Dylan before he escorted them out. He winked at her, and her face flushed.

  Dylan was harmless enough, but, like most men, he always flustered her. He was young. A history major at the college. His girlfriend was adorable and hung out at the office every chance she got, but Dylan flirted with any woman who crossed his path, and Bethany never knew how to react. She was desperately shy, and flirting was not her forte.

  They climbed into the carriage, and she sighed. She’d never be good at her job if she couldn’t talk to people. Well, she could talk to women. It was the men she had trouble with. Even the old ones. She was lucky that most people who came in looking for information were either couples or groups of women.

  She wanted to go home to her enormous house, revel in the aloneness, and read. Books were better companions than people. She checked the clock—an hour left on her shift.

  The bell on the door jingled, and a courier rushed up to her. “I need Bethany Davis.”

  “That’s me.” She gave the girl what she hoped was a nice smile and not a grimace. Seriously, what was she thinking choosing a career where she had to talk to different people all the time?

  The girl handed her an envelope and disappeared out the door. Bethany stared at it for a second. The envelope had no return address. She slid her finger under the flap and tugged it open, not wanting to see what was in there. Envelopes like this never had good news, but she wasn’t prepared for how awful it could be.

  She read the first line and collapsed into the chair behind her. This couldn’t be happening. But it could. Her house would be going to the tax sale in a week. The house was all she had left of her parents. The only connection she had. When she baked cookies, she could sit at the table, close her eyes, and imagine her mother was there. No other house could do that for her. Nor did any other home have a chip in the fireplace where her dad dropped his bowling ball. She squeezed her eyes shut and took two deep breaths, trying to push away the awful knots in her stomach.

  This possibility had occurred to her since the taxes hadn’t been paid for two years, but they were too expensive. Her savings account had about half of what she needed, but she hadn’t expected it to go to sale already. Her house was worth a few million, and she was about to lose it in less than a week over a few thousand dollars. The smart thing to do would be to sell it first. At least then she’d have money to live off of.

  She never thought rationally where the house was concerned. She was born in that house and had never lived anywhere else. It was her refuge. The one place to get away from the world. All the good memories of her parents were in that house. Sure, it had a few bad ones as well, but most were happy. She wouldn’t survive without it.

  That was stupid. Of course she’d survive, but leaving the house would be like giving half of herself away. She didn’t know how to be Bethany Davis if she wasn’t Bethany Davis of 1535 E.
Ashley Avenue.

  For the last hour of her shift she contemplated what to do. No brilliant ideas came to her. She’d sleep on it, and if no plan presented itself, she’d call Mrs. Calhoun and offer her the house if she could close within the week.

  As Bethany cleaned up her area, tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, and she quickly brushed them off her face. Crying on the job. All she needed now was Dylan or one of the other guys asking her what was wrong. They might even do something stupid like try to hug her.

  She could survive this. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe she should use this as an opportunity to reinvent herself. She could use the money from the sale to open that dance studio she’d been dreaming about. Maybe the house was keeping her stuck in the past. But her heart clenched at the thought of never stepping foot in there again.

  Bethany kicked off her shoes and sighed, taking in her wide foyer. The grand staircase where she should’ve glided down on prom night and watched her date’s eyes light up. At least that’s what her mom imagined. Instead, she’d stayed in bed, curled up reading Gone with the Wind. Again.

  She had slid down the railing a time or two and crashed into the wall. The last time she did, and left a dent, her mom had laughed and suggested they repaint. The soft blue had been Bethany’s idea.

  She dropped her keys on the entry table and ran her fingers along the shells she’d placed there. They were the ones she and her dad often found when they strolled on the beach early in the morning. Sometimes she’d go out there now, and sit and imagine him next to her, waxing on about the weather or his sailboat.

  After this week, would she ever see her home again? She’d never be able to afford something that would fit all the furniture. Parting with the house would be difficult, but losing all the stuff might break her. It’d been three years since her parents died, but she wasn’t ready to move on yet. She needed the house and all of her parents’ things to stay grounded in the world.

  She had few options. Mrs. Calhoun would be over the moon, but that made Bethany’s stomach churn since the woman had every intention of tearing the house down. It wouldn’t last long after she sold it. Maybe she should consider listing it so that at least Mrs. Calhoun couldn’t destroy it. She shook her head. If she’d paid more attention to the tax notices, she could’ve had more time. But now, listing it would take too long. Mrs. Calhoun was probably her only option.

  Her phone rang, and she jumped. She cleared her throat before she answered, the number unrecognizable.

  “Hello,” she said tentatively.

  “I found you a roommate,” Vivian’s voice drawled through the phone.

  Bethany sighed. She signed up with the agency a few months ago, and they told her they’d have a hard time finding her a roommate, but if she wanted to move out they could fill it in a heartbeat. Getting a roommate to pay that kind of cash would be nearly impossible. She argued that it was a massive beach house, and she wouldn’t settle for a penny less. Now she wished she’d considered it because at this point, she couldn’t take on a roommate. Too little too late.

  Bethany stared at the tax sale notice in her hand. Mentally she added up the rent in her head. The money would not be enough. Even with the security deposit.

  “I’m afraid I’ve run into some issues. Unless the tenant is willing to pay six months up front, I’m going to have to pass.”

  “Hang on a sec.”

  Elevator music played out of the phone. Bethany shook her head. No one would pay six months up front.

  Vivian clicked back on. “Done.”

  Bethany’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at the bill. That would buy her some time. Course that wouldn’t make her current on her taxes, just catch up the last two years, but at least she wouldn’t be losing her house. Yet. If she found a better paying job, maybe she’d be able to actually keep it. The renter would help too. She might even be able to save enough in a few months to catch up completely.

  “Sign her up. When does she want to move in?”

  “This evening, I think.”

  “What’s her name?” Bethany wanted to make sure she welcomed her properly. In spite of being socially awkward, her southern mother raised her to be polite.

  “Jamie Green.”

  “Okay, I’ll be home. Thanks, Vivian, you’re a lifesaver.”

  Bethany tried not to think too hard about actually having to share her sacred space with someone else. She would welcome Jamie but wouldn’t let the girl upstairs. The house had five bedrooms, all of them suites. Two were on the main floor, and three were upstairs. That would at least give her some semblance of privacy, and she could always escape upstairs if it got to be too much.

  Bethany grabbed her cleaning supplies and headed into the guest suite in the front of the house. When the doorbell rang, she rushed from the room, flinging the door open. Her next-door neighbor and best, well only, friend, Bunny, stood there with a look of panic in her enormous blue eyes.

  “Bunny, what’s the…?” But Bethany lost the rest of her words. Bunny was holding a squirming baby alligator in her hands. Bunny was definitely an odd duck, but an alligator was the last thing she expected to see.

  Bunny pushed her way past Bethany into the front room of the house. “Where’s your closest bathtub?”

  Bethany pointed to the guest bedroom she’d opened up. Bunny rushed in, her four-inch yellow heels clicking on the hardwood floors. Bethany followed, not sure pointing the way had been the right thing to do, but she was certain if she hadn’t, that alligator would’ve ended up in her kitchen sink.

  Bunny had the water turned on, and the alligator’s claws clattered around on the bottom of the rapidly filling tub.

  “Sweetie, why is there an alligator in my house?” Or why was there an alligator at all?

  Bunny turned to her. “Oh, it’s just awful. I saw him at this pet store, and I just had to have him. He was so cute, looking at me like ‘take me home.’ But when I got home, Danny told me I wasn’t allowed to keep him. No matter how many tears I cried, he said no. Told me to get that thing out of his house. Then I had to remind him that it was our house, not just his house anymore, and he got all smart on me and said that if I kept the alligator, it would no longer be our house. So I brought Sweet Pickles over here.”

  Bethany was again at a loss for words. Bunny and Danny got married about a year prior, and she moved into his beach house next door. Bethany and Danny grew up together. Her parents thought she’d marry him because he was the only boy she ever voluntarily talked to. To her, Danny was more like a brother. Plus, he was a little chauvinistic and wanted a trophy wife, which Bethany could never be. Bethany was pretty enough, with an hourglass figure and long glossy brown hair, but she was too short and quirky. Danny didn’t want someone on his arm that looked like she was twelve and acted like a socially inept teenager.

  Bunny fit the bill perfectly with her enormous breasts, beautiful blue eyes, and big blonde hair. Danny met her when he was on a business trip to Birmingham. Bunny had never left Alabama before and came to Charleston wide-eyed and clueless.

  The day after Danny arrived home with his bride on his arm, Bunny waltzed into Bethany’s living room and made herself at home. She didn’t give Bethany a choice and practically demanded that she be her friend, and Bethany loved her for it. Before Bunny came around, the only interaction she had with people was at work.

  Bethany shook her head at the critter skittering around her tub. “Did you really name him already?”

  “Who? Sweet Pickles? Yes. He’s so cute and green.”

  Bethany pinched the bridge of her nose. Sometimes she wondered how Danny managed to get through the day without insulting her. “You do realize that all alligators are green, right?”

  Bunny shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing. “No they’re not. I had a white one named Marshmallow. They have other colors too, but the ones by my house were mostly green.”

  “You’ve had more than one pet alligator?” Just when she thoug
ht Bunny couldn’t surprise her. Bethany didn’t know much about Bunny’s life in Alabama. Her topics of conversation usually rotated from Danny, to shopping, to celebrities, but never her past.

  “Yep.” She started counting on her fingers. “There was Greenie. He was my first one before I got more creative with their names. Then I had Tree, Watermelon, and Grass. Grass was a meanie though. I was sure glad when Daddy butchered him.”

  “Butchered?”

  “Yep. My daddy runs an alligator farm. Provides gator meat for the local restaurants.”

  Huh. That explained a lot.

  Bethany thought for a second and then decided not to ask any more questions. She needed to get the alligator out of her house. “I’m sorry, but you can’t keep Sweet Pickles here either. I have a roommate moving in this evening.”

  Bunny creased her eyebrows. “A roommate? What’d you go and do that for?”

  “You know I can’t afford my house.” Bunny and Danny had been extremely helpful the past several months. Well, mostly Danny, but that was because Bunny spilled the beans that she’d been having financial trouble.

  “Yeah, but what will they do on Tuesdays?”

  Tuesday nights Danny had his HOA meeting, so she and Bunny ate dinner together and watched chick flicks. They always saved one glass of wine for Danny when he was done because he needed it to recover. Anyone who had to deal with Mrs. Calhoun on a weekly basis needed alcohol when they were finished.

  Mrs. Calhoun had been her mother’s best friend. Complete opposite of Bethany’s mother, but tolerable. She was nicer back then. It’d only been since Bethany’s mother died and Mrs. Calhoun wanted the property that she’d turned into a bitch.

  “Maybe, she’ll join us, and maybe she won’t. Please be nice to her, I need her to keep the house out of the clutches of Mrs. Calhoun.”

  Bunny, who didn’t like Mrs. Calhoun any more than Bethany did, narrowed her eyes. She stared at Sweet Pickles for a few seconds and then spun around so fast she almost fell off the tub.

  “What about d-day?”

  “We can still have d-day. I’m sure she’ll understand. Probably even help.” D-day stood for dessert day. Once a month they pigged out on whatever chocolate desserts they could get their hands on. The day varied but it was always the day Bunny got a visit from her Aunt Flo. D-day was non-negotiable. Danny encouraged it, probably because then Bethany had to put up with Bunny instead of him, but Bethany didn’t care. The chocolate was worth it.