But then Con Montgomery stood at his elbow. “Lilly?” the man said. “Are you looking for her?”
The question didn’t assuage Alec’s concern. “You know where she is?”
“She left me a message for you,” he said, and he didn’t look happy about it.
“What?” Did she feel sick? Come down with a migraine?
“She asked that you stick by your promise. That you’ll not go after her.”
Alec stared at the other man, but didn’t see him. He only saw Lilly as she’d looked that morning, fresh from his bed, her cheeks rosy, her mouth swollen from his kisses. Her hand had been on his face and she’d pinned him with her midnight-mystery eyes.
Swear to me you’ll let me go whenever I ask.
Lilly’s fingers dug into her cousin Frank’s forearm as she dragged him along the resort’s serpentine paths. He complained, but she shut her ears to it, trying to get as far as possible from the Thatcher event as fast as possible.
“You had no business coming here,” she spit out, furious. Glancing around, she saw that there weren’t any other guests to be seen, but still lowered her voice. “No business whatsoever.”
“How about that Mom and Dad raised you since you were a crying brat?” Frank said, ever one to win friends and influence people. He stopped short, and he was big enough that she couldn’t budge him. “Where the hell are we going?”
She opened her mouth, glanced around again. Okay. Right. Though the paths were well-lit tonight, as usual she’d gotten herself lost. “I’m going to get you some money and then you’re going away.”
“I caught a ride with a buddy,” Frank said belligerently. “You’ll have to drive me back.”
“Are you drunk?” She supposed she should be glad he hadn’t hit the road while under the influence, but the smell of beer on his breath was turning her stomach.
“It’s been a bad week. I broke a tooth.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. “I lost my job.”
As he swigged, she tried to recall exactly what was his latest occupation. Bouncer? Ticket taker at the swap meet?
She reminded herself that all work was good and honest, then reminded herself that Frank had likely lost his good, honest job by showing up late or not at all. It was a long-time habit of his.
Trying to find a well of calm, she drew in a long breath, let it out. “This has got to stop, Frank.”
“Yeah,” he said, drinking deep again. “The usual amount isn’t going to cut it until I find some work. Mom says to ask you for double our usual this month.”
“Double?” Lilly felt the ends of her hair ignite.
“Yeah.”
“Why should I do that?” Lilly said, nearly screeching, her French temper coming to the fore.
Frank’s eyes went even beadier “We’re blood. We need the dough. It’s gotta be double.”
Blood or not, she’d had it, she decided. They’d tainted her past and ruined a future for her, but she wasn’t going to be bled by them in the present. Nuh-uh.
“No,” she said, her voice clear and firm.
Her cousin blinked at her, as if her refusal had pierced his drunken haze. “No…what?”
“No more money. I’ve shown my ‘gratitude’ for what your mother and father did for me long enough. I’ve subsidized week-long benders, bad gambling debts, and more than one get-rich-quick scheme. No more.”
He was staring at her, his body as still as a statue. “We’re cousins.”
She ignored that. “Never again.”
The last words seemed to animate him. In a blur of movement, he reached out, grabbing her wrist to twist it behind her back. The flask dropped with a metallic clatter to the ground and he cocked his free arm, his meaty palm poised for a strike to her face.
Frozen by the malevolence in his expression, her eyes stayed glued to his menacing hand. Such a big man, Lilly heard her aunt say in her head, the taunting, hateful tone she used when speaking to her husband, just before another knock-down, drag-out. Does it make you feel strong to hit a woman?
“Fuck you,” Frank said, yanking Lilly’s wrist higher along her back, until she bit back a cry. His palm hovered, a continued threat. “You’re gonna give us the money. Say it. Swear it.”
“No,” Lilly said, thinking of Audra, thinking of Jojo and Miranda Thatcher, channeling their spirit. They wouldn’t let themselves be used. They wouldn’t want Lilly to let herself be used.
Alec would expect the woman he wanted as his someone to stand up for herself.
She sucked in a breath, staring up at her cousin. “No fucking way, Frank.”
Expecting the blow, she braced, but then, just as she saw his hand begin to descend, her cousin was wrenched aside. He stumbled a few steps away, where he was caught by a very pissed-looking Con Montgomery.
It was Alec who had seized her cousin and thrown him off. Even as he drew Lilly against him, he glared at the drunken man. “From this moment on, you stay the hell away from Lilly. You stay the hell away or I’ll kill you,” he said, fury in every syllable.
With the back of his jacket in Con’s huge fist, her cousin seemed to shrink. “She’s blood. My cousin. She owes us money.”
“She owes you shit,” Alec said with disgust. He shifted his gaze to Con. “Any idea what to do with a scumbag like him?”
“Sure. I can chuck him into the ocean.”
Frank cowered, spittle appearing at the corner of his mouth.
“He doesn’t swim,” Lilly said.
“All the better,” Con and Alec said together. Then Audra’s brother began hauling him along the path, Frank stammering and pleading.
That left Lilly and Alec alone. She shook her head, trying to make sense of the last few minutes. “Where were you?” she asked, knowing she sounded dazed.
“Coming after you. I could hear the conversation between the two of you, but I couldn’t find you in this fucking maze.” He looked frustrated and ticked off and completely out of patience, but he ran a gentle hand down her back. “Are you hurt?”
“You didn’t keep your promise to me.”
He hesitated a moment. “No.”
Frowning, she gazed up at him. “A man should keep his promises.”
His expression turned hard. “Not this man, not that promise.”
“Then I can’t trust—”
“Lilly,” he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. “You can damn well trust me. You can trust me on this. I will always follow you because I will always have your back. Here, home, wherever.”
“Baby steps—”
“There’s not going to be any baby steps either, sugar. I was wrong to suggest it and it was wrong for you, too. What’s going to win you is the truth.” He sucked in a breath, then pinned her with his gaze. “I want everything. I want it all. I want it now.”
Her head jerked back.
“Listen, Lilly,” he said urgently. “Hear me out all the way.”
The pulse in her throat beat so hard and fast she found it difficult to swallow. “What?”
“I want everything from you. And in return I’m giving you my total commitment,” he said, then paused. “That is how much you are worth to me.”
Pressure built behind her eyes, her throat closed up tight. I’m worthless for a man like you, she’d told him, but he didn’t believe it.
“Remember how I said I might figure out what it would take for you to fall in love? I have, and that’s it. My total commitment, for however long I’m here on earth to promise it.”
She sniffed, understanding he meant no one knew how long they had to commit, to promise, to love, but he wasn’t going to hold back. She’d told herself the rich were different, that life and risk were somehow easier for them, but that wasn’t true at all. The Thatchers weren’t blessed, they were survivors, determined to reach for happiness, despite their experience with death.
“What if I don’t know how—”
“I’ll show you,” he said instantly. “And
not because of how I was raised or who did the raising. But because I have a vision of what we can have in my heart and I’m going to share it with you. I’m going to make you believe in it. In us.”
“Us,” she echoed.
“I’m in love with you, Lilly.”
No one had ever said that to her before.
His hands moved to stroke her hair. “God, it feels good to say it. I love you.”
He searched her face and he must have seen something he liked there, because his expression softened. “Sugar…”
Us. Her hands clutched his biceps as warmth unfurled inside her, something that had been locked away behind her barbed-wire heart. It felt like hope.
Total commitment.
I’m in love with you.
“What if I can’t—”
“Sh.” He placed a finger on her mouth. “Women are the strongest, smartest creatures I know. Absolutely, you can.”
“Absolutely, I can,” she repeated, wanting it to be true. Wanting to move beyond a lifetime of emotional insecurity.
He took her face in his hands and thumbed away tears that she swore she’d never shed until meeting him. His forehead pressed to hers. “So take pity on a poor guy and make his dreams come true, why don’t you?”
And all that barbed wire was nothing against the soft look in Alec’s eyes and the tender tone of his voice. It fell away, leaving her heart to beat raucously in her chest, as untamed as the feelings that this man generated inside her.
“No more this is how Durands love,” she murmured, looking into his beautiful face, making her own promise, her own total commitment. “This is how Lilly loves.”
And going on her tiptoes, she kissed Alec.
Making all his dreams come true—and of course, every one of her own that she’d forever hidden away. Now, exposed to air and light and a man’s loving touch, they would grow beyond her wildest imaginings.
Monday morning, approximately two weeks later. Carol’s Coffee.
The bells on the doors of Carol’s tiny place jingled as a pair of early morning patrons entered. He was in a suit and tie, she in something similar, but a more feminine version, obviously. They both looked ready for the day, even before their caffeine fix.
The woman lingered by the case of baked goods while he came straight to the order counter, stating what they wanted even though they hadn’t changed their choices in the two years since she’d opened. Of course, until very recently they hadn’t come in together, missing each other by only minutes.
Carol didn’t know how they’d finally made a connection.
But there was a diamond engagement ring on her left finger and he wore the easy air of a man who spent his nights with the right woman in his bed.
He looked over at that woman now, his expression amused. “Lilly. Baby. Are you going to pick something or just stare in longing?”
“Chocolate croissant. And for rushing me, Alec,” she said in a teasing tone, “there’ll be no sharing with you.”
His arm slipped around her waist as she strolled to his side and he drew her close. Pressing an absent kiss to her temple, he reached inside his pocket for his wallet.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve already got the very best thing all to myself,” he said, and completely missed the way his Lilly’s expression turned warm and sweet as he dug out a card.
True love, Carol thought on an appreciative sigh. She wondered where they’d found it.
# # #
Dear Reader:
Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the first book in the Heartbreak Hotel series. Lilly and Alec have moved past their past hurts and fears and are facing life together from now on. Just for fun, you might like to listen to the song “What Ifs” by Kane Brown…it inspired me during the writing of this story.
Speaking of Kane—that is, Kane Hathaway—he’s more than a little intrigued by the resort’s mystery guest and jilted bride, Audra Hathaway. Alec mentioned an intervention and Kane just might decide he’s the one to help the beautiful blonde…though he’ll be dismayed to discover she’s been writing out a Naughty List and wants help checking off each line item! Look for ME AND MR. JONES coming soon.
Interested in sharing your thoughts about Lilly and Alec’s romance with other readers? I hope you’ll leave a review for the book here and look for more of my books to enjoy.
To not miss out on new Christie Ridgway releases and to get other information about upcoming books and specials, sign up for my my newsletter. You can also follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or visit my website.
I’ve also included here an excerpt of ALMOST WONDERFUL (Almost Book 1)—another one of my sunny, sexy romances.
All the best!
Christie Ridgway
Excerpt – ALMOST WONDERFUL
Almost Book 1
© Copyright 2017 Christie Ridgway
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Chapter One
Two miles of magic.
Trudging through soft sand, Meg Alexander remembered that’s how she’d thought of her childhood Neverland, Southern California’s Crescent Cove. Even after ten years away, she recalled how lucky she’d felt growing up here.
Meg’s great-great-grandfather had purchased the land as a location to make silent movies such as The Courageous Castaways and Sweet Safari, and the tropical vegetation he’d trucked in for authenticity in 1919 continued to thrive at the cove today. The buff-colored bluffs rising up from the beach were made more colorful by the bright green fronds of date palm trees and the salmon and scarlet flowers of bougainvillea that nestled beside the native sagebrush. Closer to shore, floppy-leaved banana plants, chunky Mexican fan palms and colorful hibiscus shrubs surrounded the fifty eclectic cottages, most of which had been built during the 1920s through 1950s.
Each of the beach houses at Crescent Cove was different, their form-following whims now long forgotten. Their paint schemes were as varied as their shapes and sizes, though the colors selected blended well with the landscape of sand, earth and vivid flora. The single similarity was that in every one, windows peered oceanward.
Meg didn’t dare look in that direction, herself.
Growing up, her mother had told Meg and her little sister, Skye, that merfolk lived in those waters off shore, protecting the cove with their supernatural powers. Growing up, Meg had believed in that, just as she’d believed that sand dollars were the merpeople’s currency and sea glass the discarded pieces from some mysterious merchildren’s board game.
But Meg didn’t believe in magic or mystery anymore.
“Good morning,” an elderly male voice said.
Startled, Meg looked up. “Hey, Rex. Good morning, yourself.” Rex Monroe, ninety-some years young, was the only full-time resident at the cove other than Skye, who had managed the property since their parents’ move to Provence, France. Yesterday, for the first time in a decade, Meg had met up with the nonagenarian as he walked along the sand. Like now, the clouds had been low and damp, the typical gloomy “May Gray” weather conditions. “Getting in your daily constitutional?” she asked.
Rex patted his belly, covered in a flannel shirt tucked into soft chinos. “It’s not just you ladies who have to watch your figures. Are you settling in okay?”
“Oh, sure,” Meg said, waving a hand. It was actually weird being back in her childhood bedroom, ten years after leaving the cove at nineteen, but her sister had been invited to the out-of-town wedding of a former college roommate. How could Meg have refused to step in? Memorial Day weekend was the kick-off of the Crescent Cove summer season. Someone had to be on hand to pass out keys to the bungalows and handle minor crises.
Even if it was a major crisis, in Meg’s mind, to be back here.
“I see you have a satchel of tools,” Rex said, pointing to the canvas bag she carried. “Something need fixing already?”
“Not really. Just trying to keep busy.” Anything to prevent her from thinking of the last summer she’d spent at the cove. “I’m going to scrape the deck railing
at Beach House No. 9. I understand that Griffin Lowell has been staying there the last couple of months, but since he’s away for a few days, Skye hired a contractor to take care of the blistering paint while he’s gone.”
Rex gave Meg a piercing look that reminded her he was a former war correspondent, one who’d won a Pulitzer during World War 2. “What? The man Skye hired doesn’t have some sort of electric paint-removing machine?”
“Uh, well…” Meg glanced at the simple metal scraper at the bottom of her bag, sitting beside a few other basic tools and her bottle of water. “You know what they say about idle hands. I thought I’d do the work myself.” An idle mind was even more dangerous, Meg had decided. She had to stay busy to avoid thoughts of that last summer. Of Peter.
Rex nodded as if he understood all she didn’t say aloud. “You come visit me if you’d like some company, all right?”
“Thanks, I will,” Meg said with a bright smile, though she knew she wouldn’t. She didn’t want company. Company might bring up Peter. Company might ask her why she’d run away from her childhood home and never returned. Company might make her admit how much she’d lost, including the happy-go-lucky girl she’d once been.
Meg was too smart to allow that to happen.
“Enjoy your walk, Rex,” she said, and then continued down the beach.
The south end of Crescent Cove was bounded by a sea cliff that pushed into the Pacific. Though the top of it was wide and flat, there were steep trails snaking up its side that led to various outcroppings from which, she remembered, daredevils used to launch ocean jumps. Skye had posted warning signs against the practice, but from the look of those clearly defined routes, it remained an enticement. The last cottage in the cove snuggled next to the bluff, a two-story, brown-shingled building with blue-green trim and a large deck extending over the sand.
A driftwood sign was tacked to the outer railing, words painted in the same color as the trim. Beach House No. 9.
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