Rush (Hector & Millie) (Seaside Valleria #1)
Marianne Knightly
Contents
Also by Marianne Knightly
Synopsis
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
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Also by Marianne Knightly
Acknowledgments
Rush (Hector & Millie) (Seaside Valleria #1)
Copyright © 2018 by Marianne Knightly
ISBN# 978-1942729129
All Rights Reserved.
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Cover Design: Marianne Knightly
Editor: Jami Gold
Copyeditor: Jessica Snyder
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Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Also by Marianne Knightly
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Seaside Valleria Series
Book 1: Rush (Hector & Millie)
Book 2: Ripple (Persy & Sully)
Book 3: (coming 2018)
Book 4: (coming 2019)
Book 5: (coming 2019)
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Royals of Valleria Series
Book 1: Alexander & Rebecca
Book 2: Marcello & Grace
Book 3: Arianna & Finn
Book 4: Charlotte & Nate
Book 5: A Royal Holiday (Novella)
Book 6: Catharine & Edward
Book 7: Royally Ever After
Book 8: Lorenzo & Lily
Book 9: Sarah & Vittorio
Book 10: Permanently Princess (Novella)
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Box Set: Books 1-3
Box Set: Books 4-6
Box Set: Books 7-9
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Royals of Valleria Short Stories (exclusively for e-newsletter subscribers)
Story 1: Delusional (featuring Alexander & Rebecca)
Story 2: (coming soon)
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The Italian Shipping Millionaires Series
Book 1: Dante
Book 2: Adrian
Book 3: Giovanni
Book 4: Luc
Box Set: Books 1-4
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Copyright © 2018 Marianne Knightly
To all the Millies out there: It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.
Synopsis
“I’m messed up,” she confessed. He’d probably figured that out, but she needed to say it.
* * *
“I know, baby,” he said softly. “That doesn’t turn me away. It only makes me want to hold you closer.”
She feels she doesn’t deserve him…
He feels he doesn’t deserve her…
What happens when they finally discover they’re both wrong?
* * *
Millie could do this. Easy. No problem. So what if her former Hot Man Customer was now her current Hot Man Boss? So what if he also wanted to date her? With her terrible family and the burdens she carries, no way will Hector stay with her long term. He deserves someone better than her.
* * *
Hector liked his Millie—his Amelia—since nearly the first moment they met. So what if she’s shy? He’ll wait for her. So what if her evil half-brother is making a repeat appearance? He’ll protect her. He’d never thought he’d be successful—not running a pub or being in a relationship—after losing his legs in the army. It’s been years and he’s still recovering, but he’s learned to live with his demons. He’ll work hard to make his pub and his relationship with Amelia a success, even if some days he doesn’t believe he deserves it.
* * *
When Amelia’s circumstances take a dangerous turn, Hector will do whatever it takes to help her, whether or not she wants it. Can they both overcome their fears and histories for a future together?
* * *
Rush is a slow burn romance about loving and believing in yourself, as much you do the one you love.
Welcome to Valleria, a country nestled along the Mediterranean. Whether it’s the small towns or larger port cities, you’re sure to find a friendly face—or more—along Valleria’s seaside shores. Far from the politics of the palace, follow this group of friends as they find love, support each other, and perhaps even meet a royal or two at the local Masillian pub, the Seashell.
Chapter One
Nearly out of breath, Millie chanced a glance at her watch. She’d been at work at the Royal Court pub for barely an hour, but it felt like eight. Exhaustion weighed down her limbs and her back was killing her.
Goddamn Piers. Her boss and half-brother never scheduled enough people on the floor. She’d have to run around all night to manage everything.
Rush, rush, rush. That’s all she ever seemed to do.
She pushed her dark purple glasses up her nose—they never stayed put—and gazed around the room. Fresh beer for tables six, one, and nine, a dinner order for table two, and table eight needed to see the menus again because two more people had joined them and wanted dinner.
Rush, rush, rush.
She shoved her order pad into the black half-apron she wore, shifting her long, baggy cardigan up a little to do so.
She called the drink and food orders to one of the bartenders—not Piers—and saw someone standing just inside the pub’s doors by the hostess station.
She was also to play hostess tonight. Three bartenders but there was only her to manage the pub’s entire floor and hostess station.
Fucking great.
Even if people sat at the bar, she was still expected to serve them. Because Piers said it was ‘her job’ and not ‘his or his boys’ job’, which meant that the other two bartenders stood around doing jack shit for most of their shift.
She sighed and focused on her new customer. He was looking around with a certain concentration, one which she recognized as meaning he was looking for someone.
He was HOT in capital letters and she let herself take a second to admire him. A broad chest in a tight shirt and wide hips in snug pants that outlined something she probably shouldn’t notice in a customer. So, her eyes went up, up, up, and noticed full lips and olive skin.
Wowza.
He was never going to fit in one of the pub’s tiny booths.
He’s a customer, Millie. Just like the other million customers you’ll have to handle tonight on your own.
She kept repeating that even while she lifted a hand and tucked stray strands of her black, curly hair back into h
er bun, the only way to control her hair on shift, even if it did make her look older than she was.
She walked past him and pulled some menus from behind the hostess stand. “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”
“Pardon?”
She glanced up, her heart jumping a little when they locked eyes. His were the darkest brown, almost black, that she’d ever seen, almost darker than her own black eyes. They reminded her of a gorgeous dark chocolate bar, which also reminded her it had been hours since she’d eaten and hours until she’d get to eat again, so she stopped thinking about food and focused back on him. “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”
He had a deep, rough voice, as if it hadn’t been used in a while. “Yeah. Yes. Um, Captain—I mean, Prince Lorenzo.”
She thumbed her hand behind her. “Captain’s not here yet, but we keep a booth reserved for him in the back. Does the booth work for you? Or would you prefer a table?”
His brows drew together, and his voice was a little defensive. “Why might I prefer a table?”
She hugged the menus to her larger-than-average chest as a flimsy shield and absently pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “The booths are a pretty tight fit, and they’ve been difficult for people like you to manage.”
He sucked in a breath. “People like me?”
Her eyes widened. Shit! She’d offended him. She didn’t mean to offend him. “I didn’t mean any offense. You’re just, um, really big.”
Her eyes fell to his chest and she blushed, the light heat of it racing across her skin. “I’m sorry. Really. It’s hard even for the Captain to get in the booth, and you seem even, um, broader than him.”
Her cheeks heated from a mild pink to a bright red, her face now burning. God, would she ever not be awkward? “I mean, I don’t know why he likes the booth, just that he does, and even some of the other veterans who visit him here have similar issues with the seating, particularly the disabled ones.”
His face shut down. “You noticed my disability?”
Her fingers toyed with the frayed edges of the menus she held. “Um, no. I hadn’t actually. I was just making a comment about how awful the booths are to sit in.”
Her brows furrowed. He had a disability and she’d missed it! Oh, man. She couldn’t see a disability, but she knew better than anyone that not all disabilities were obvious. “I didn’t notice any disability. I’m sorry.”
“Usually, that’s the first thing people notice.”
Her face fell and her nerves took over—never a good thing. “I didn’t. I’m sorry. I can just be so clueless sometimes. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I mean, when you walked in I just saw your chest, which is really broad, like really, really broad. And then I saw your hips and decided I should stop looking down, so then I started looking up, and then I saw your lips and your eyes and…shit!”
She squeaked—actually squeaked!—and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the babbling. She held her breath for several long seconds before sighing. Her hand fell away. “I’m just, um, oh, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up. And hide. Hiding’s good. Running away, also an option.”
He waited a few moments, then spoke, his voice easy. “It’s all right, don’t worry about it. I’m flattered, really. I’m certainly not offended that you didn’t notice my disability first.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She heard a bottle thump on the bar and they both looked over. Peckerhead Piers, the beefy bastard, was watching her with his usual, extremely controlling vibe. She hugged the menus closer to her.
Oh, man. What if Hot Man customer complained to Piers? Her loser half-brother already treated her like shit. If a customer complained, it’d just get worse.
She turned quickly back to Hot Man. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. You won’t, um, mention to anyone I made an idiot of myself, will you?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and ignored her question. “Who is that guy?”
Her body drooped in resignation, and her voice was wooden when she spoke. “He’s my manager.” She rarely mentioned they were related, since she hated his fucking guts. “Did you want to speak to him about what I said?”
“Fuck, no.”
She jerked back, and her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“No. Though I do want to speak to him about why his employee is afraid of him.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m not—we’re not—it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Millie,” Piers called loudly, and several customers turned to stare.
She jerked again. “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to work. Feel free to take the booth, or there’s an empty table over there, too. Captain won’t mind if you take a table, really.”
She hurried over to the bar.
“Tell me, Millie: what the fuck do I pay you for?”
Putting up with your shit and doing all the work, which I only put up with so I don’t become homeless?
He didn’t wait for her to speak. “I pay you to be a goddamn waitress. You don’t hit on the goddamn customers.”
Her cheeks went pink again. “I wasn’t. He was looking for the prince, and I was letting him know where his table was.”
At the mention of royalty, Piers sneered. He wasn’t a fan of Valleria’s royal family. She hadn’t been there to see it, but word was that he’d once tried to antagonize the Captain, but it hadn’t gone well for him. So, now he kept his mouth shut. It was a well-known fact that the Captain visited this pub, which brought in lots of business that benefitted Piers.
Piers eased back, but barely. “Friend of the prince, huh? I guess I can excuse your behavior. Again.”
God, what a douche. He always made her feel like she should be kissing his feet, just because he ‘let’ her work there. She had to work four times as hard as anyone else, got paid less than everyone else (this she’d confirmed after he also made her do his admin work like payroll without an increase in pay), and had to put up with his abuse. He wasn’t a peach to everyone else, but no one got treated as bad as her.
All because they shared the same father.
She should quit. She should. Just tell him to go fuck himself and leave.
Then she pictured all the bills she had to pay that month, and all the crippling debt she had, and the supplies she needed to grow her side business selling jewelry, and, well, she chickened out.
Again.
So, she did what she always did when he got like this: she shrunk into herself. She kept quiet through the rest of his tirade. When he was finally done, he shoved a tray of drinks and food her way. She tucked the menus under her arm and lifted the tray up with both hands to make sure she didn’t drop it.
She’d dropped a tray once in front of him and had no desire to relive the experience.
After delivering the drinks, food, and menus, she made a quick round to the rest of her tables. Then she tucked the tray under her arm and went back to Hot Man, stopping to pick up some more menus on the way. She could feel Piers’s uncomfortable gaze on her but ignored him.
She pulled out her pad and fumbled with it, not looking Hot Man in the eye. “Sorry, again.”
His voice was crisp, but not harsh. “Stop apologizing. I didn’t take offense, and you didn’t say anything hurtful.”
She paused a beat, then nodded, accepting him at his word. She put down the menus, sliding one in front of him, and the other in front of the empty seat in the booth. “Okay. So, what can I get you? We’ve got some two-for-one happy hour specials.”
“Just coffee.”
“Cream and sugar?”
He shook his head and quickly glanced through the menu she’d set down. “Black. Do you have any desserts?”
Her lips tipped up. Hot Man liked dessert. Be still her thumping heart. “We don’t have a dessert menu, per se. We have some cakes and things from the bakery down the road.”
He frowned slightly. “I don’t recall a bakery nearby.”
“Y
eah, it’s just around the corner. Real famous. We’ve got pastries, pies, chocolate cake, cheesecake, tartes—”
“Tarte’s fine. Whatever kind you’ve got.”
She scribbled it down on her order pad. She could usually remember small orders without writing it down, but with so many tables to cover there was no other way to keep track of it all. “Will do. We’re short-staffed so it’ll take a few minutes, but I’ll be back.”
As she turned to leave, he grasped her wrist. His hand was warm and strong, but not forceful. The slight touch was comforting in a way she didn’t expect. Her breath caught.
“Just a second. Your name’s Millie?”
She looked down at his hand and he let go.
Damn. She missed his hand. What was that about? She wasn’t one to think about customers like this.
He’s a customer, Millie, and WAY out of your league anyway.
She hugged her serving tray to her chest. “It’s a nickname,” she muttered.
“What’s your real name?”
“I’ll get your order.”
His voice was steady and soft. “What’s your name?”
It was the soft that made her give in; no one had spoken to her quite that way in a very long time. “Amelia. Amelia Asti.”
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