by Terry Towers
Description
When Major VanBuren approached me with a very special and highly classified assignment, I felt honored. I’d been waiting for a chance at a covert mission. Imagine my surprise when he hit me with the details – he wanted me to befriend his eighteen-year-old daughter, newly arrived in town and harboring a broken heart. My new ‘assignment’ entailed becoming a glorified babysitter and her new BFF; I thought it was as honorable as being in charge of the cafeteria – complete bullshit if you ask me.
And then I met her...
Olivia is all legs, golden hair, and she has the most captivating blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
While my mind tells me to keep things on the up-and-up, my dick has other plans. What was supposed to be an easy bullshit mission is quickly becoming one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever been tasked to do.
Table Of Contents
Watching Over Her
When Major VanBuren approached me with a very special and highly classified assignment, I felt honored. I’d been waiting for a chance at a covert mission. Imagine my surprise when he hit me with the details – he wanted me to befriend his eighteen-year-old daughter, newly arrived in town and harboring a broken heart. My new ‘assignment’ entailed becoming a glorified babysitter and her new BFF; I thought it was as honorable as being in charge of the cafeteria – complete bullshit if you ask me.
And then I met her...
Olivia is all legs, golden hair, and she has the most captivating blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
While my mind tells me to keep things on the up-and-up, my dick has other plans. What was supposed to be an easy bullshit mission is quickly becoming one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever been tasked to do.
Failure to Stop
Since when did the procedure for giving someone a ticket for running a stop sign include a very hands-on pat-down against the hood of my car, not even giving me a chance to see his face? I swear, cop or not he’s getting very close to getting Tasered; my hand was mere inches from the Taser in my open purse. But despite the high inappropriateness of his pat-down there was something very familiar about the way he was touching me – even the scent of his cologne triggered familiarity.
I never dreamed when the inappropriate, yet highly erotic frisking was over that I’d be standing face to face with my former high school sweetheart, town troublemaker and love of my life Devon Land. But there he was with a cocky smirk, looking sexier than I remembered and thoroughly enjoying my shock.
One big mistake cost me the upscale life in New York I’d grown to love, forcing me to return home to Alabama. I swore I’d never move back to my small town, I’d outgrown it, but with a temptation like Devon intent on reminding me of the life I’d left behind can I leave a second time?
Excerpt from
Seeking Prince Charming
Chloe is falling head over heels for a man she feels complements her unlike any man she’s ever met. He’s kind, has a great sense of humour, they have so much in common it’s uncanny and he always knows what to say to make her feel special. He’s her Prince Charming. Problem is, she’s never met him face to face and has no idea what he looks like. When the time comes for Chloe to meet her Mr. Right she’s shocked to find out who he turns out to be.
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Watching Over Her
Copyright 2017 by Terry Towers
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(Story previously published under the title of “Flyboy” by author Ryla St. John, all rights have been transferred to Terry Towers. Copyright of the original and re-written/revised/re-edited, version of the story is owned by Terry Towers.)
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.
The material in this book is intended for ages 18+ it may contain adult subject matter including explicit sexual content, profanity, drug use and violence.
Watching Over Her
By
Terry Towers
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Prologue
Olivia
I shouldn’t be doing it, I knew that. I was a bad, bad person for even considering it. This was a big invasion of privacy. But I felt like I had no options left and this was the only way to find out the truth and settle my mind, once and for all. He sure as hell wouldn’t admit to me the truth. He was leaving me with no option, really.
I’ll check it out and once he’s in the clear I’ll never do anything like this again, I promised myself.
Sitting in the front seat of my boyfriend Michael’s truck, I watched him from the window as he chatted with some friends across the parking lot. We’d just been leaving the movies when he noticed a few buddies of his. After letting me into the vehicle, he’d jogged across the parking lot, leaving me alone in the truck with his mobile phone.
My finger hovered over the keylock pad as I bit down at my lower lip, weighing the pros and cons of this intrusion. I knew his code, he used the same code for everything, 7440. Looking up from the phone, I stared at his back, evaluating his body language; I determined that it didn’t look like he planned to end the conversation anytime soon.
JUST DO IT! a voice in the back of my mind screamed at me.
So, I did it. My fingers flew over the numbers on the phone and the main screen popped up, the yellow text message icon reading three new messages. Considering we’d been in the movies together they weren’t from me. But it could be anyone, a football buddy, his parents, it didn’t necessarily have to be a girl.
But I knew it was, every instinct in me told me it was true. This wasn’t the first time I’d been cheated on and dumped for another girl. This was familiar territory. I didn’t want to be right, please god don’t let me be right, my fragile seventeen-year-old heart was already crying out in pain. I almost lost my nerve; we were just a week from prom and everyone I knew already had dates. If I was right and he was cheating I wouldn’t even get to go to prom, and if I did get up the nerve to go, it would be as some loser without a date standing in the back of the auditorium watching all the beautiful couples in love, rocking in each other’s arms.
But I’d already gone too far. It was rare for this phone to be out of his grasp; this opportunity may not happen again for a long, long time. The last thing I wanted was to end up being the laughingstock of the entire school, like last time. I’d felt forced to move out of my father’s house in California to live with my mother in Boston just to end the humiliation and ridicule of my classmates the last time. At least if it happened again, high school was almost over.
With a newfound sense of resolve, I knew that this had to be done, so I pressed the text messages button an
d his contacts with messages popped up. As suspected, the three new messages were from Emma Carrol, one of the girls in our homeroom class. My breath caught in my throat as I pressed her contact and their correspondence popped up, spanning for what appeared to be months upon months. Every single dirty word sprang up for my reading pleasure, or displeasure, whichever way you’d want to think of it.
I began to read…
A part of me was relieved. All those times I’d voiced my concerns and he’d brush me off telling me I was paranoid and being stupid, saying that he’d never hurt me the way Trevor had, he’d been lying and I’d been right in my assumptions. He’d thrown it back at me, saying I had trust and paranoia issues. A couple of times he even had the nerve to suggest that maybe I needed to see a shrink to deal with my insecurities.
But I didn’t need to.
Because I was right.
As I scrolled down the months’ worth of messages I became more and more sick to my stomach at their conversations. Every single horrible thing I thought about myself was voiced in one way or another in the text before me. It was one thing for me to think badly of myself in some aspects, but a million times worse to see someone I loved felt the same way I did about my faults. I was so overwhelmed with humiliation and anxiety, I just wanted to crawl into a corner somewhere and die. It wasn’t until a teardrop landed on the glowing phone screen that I realized I’d started crying.
He said he loved me and promised he’d never hurt me.
I’d trusted him.
He’d lied.
Guys lie.
How could he do this to me? What did I do to deserve this hurt?
“What do you think you’re doing?” my soon-to-be-former boyfriend asked in an angered voice as the driver’s side door was flung open.
I was so engrossed in the messages, I’d forgotten to keep an eye on the group of guys so hadn’t even noticed them break up or Michael walking back to the truck. I looked up at him. Through my teary eyes, he looked like one big blur – hearing his voice, but not really registering his words.
“What is all this?” I finally managed to choke out.
“What is what?” He knew what and the anger faded a bit from his voice; he was busted, and he knew it.
I turned the screen so that it faced him. The words “I’m in love with you” were blinking on the screen. He’d said them to her on numerous occasions throughout the text, which resulted in a blush emote and a “love you too, baby,” from her in return. But it was all the deep and intimate stuff that he told her about me, things that only the man I knew and loved was supposed to know, told to him in confidence. It was the blatant betrayal.
He threw his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to say, Olivia?”
My mouth dropped open as I stared at him. What did I want him to say? Was he serious? Even though there was nothing in the world he could say to me that would fix the damage that had been done by me reading what I’d read, there was a logical starting point of “I’m sorry.” Maybe followed by an attempt at an explanation, though it would do no good.
Taking an unsteady breath in I gathered myself. Wiping the tears from my eyes and feigning a bravado I didn’t feel, I replied, “Say nothing. These text messages say it all. I just want you to take me home.”
He hesitated at the door, no doubt unsure of what to do. In all honesty, I was surprised at how calm I was right now. I’d envisioned myself screaming and ranting, but there was an unsettling calm about me. Maybe I’d been waiting for this all along, preparing myself for the worst before the worst even happened. However, considering how long they had been corresponding, the worst had been happening for months.
“Olivia…”
“Take. Me. Home,” I growled through clenched teeth.
Heaving a loud sigh, he nodded. “All right.” Sliding in behind the wheel, he started the engine and pulled out of the parking spot. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t ask for the phone back, so I tossed it into the tray on the dashboard of the vehicle. I was done with it.
As we drove back to my house, I could feel him periodically looking at me, but I refused to return his gaze. The fact that I was even in the same vehicle with him made me want to vomit. The cab felt way too small right now, claustrophobic. As soon as he pulled into my driveway, the vehicle hadn’t even come to a complete stop before I was opening the door and jumping out.
“Olivia, wait.”
I heard his voice and while a part of me ached to look back, I refused. I was done with Michael Ackles. I wanted as much distance between myself and that man as humanly possible.
I would never allow myself to get hurt like this again – never. That was a vow I made to myself and I planned on keeping it – this time.
Chapter One
Evan
Killing the engine of the motorcycle and engaging the kickstand, I swung my leg over the bike while hanging my helmet, which was black with red flames, over the top onto the handlebars before walking inside the little comic book store. I’d been in Cosmic Comics a few times over the years, but never with a particular mission in mind, beyond perhaps finding some comic books for my ten-year-old nephew who was a hardcore superhero fan.
Running a hand through my hair I stepped inside, noting idly that I needed a trim. My C.O. was a tough bastard when it came to the requirements of uniform and appearance – I wouldn’t dare miss a day of shaving and right now my hair was pushing the limits of too long. Hell, he was a tough bastard regardless, which brought me to Cosmic Comics on my day off.
I scanned the small shop, almost instantly finding the object of my search. Olivia Vanburen, daughter of my boss, and my current mission – though I honestly didn’t see a lot of honor in this assignment, which was right up there with being in charge of the cafeteria.
I sighed inwardly, recalling the major’s words: “She’s a bit shy and insecure, and she could stand to eat a cheeseburger from time to time. Women and their weight issues. Her last boyfriend, Michael Ackles, the son of a bitch, broke her heart, and she needs a confidence boost.” Upon giving her some consideration I would have to say the major had to be blind; she was perfect. I could easily see her gracing the cover of some culture magazine. She was tall and slender, I’d peg her for perhaps 5’8, roughly six inches shorter than myself. Even from the distance of across the room, I found myself captivated by her brilliant deep blue eyes, and her golden hair that fell all the way down her back to the curve of her lower back. Olivia was stunning; how in the name of god someone could break her heart was beyond me.
When stationed in Iraq one of my fellow bunkmates had made a comment once upon seeing a stunning woman that he’d “drink her pee just to taste where it came from.” I think he’d gotten it from the movie Jarhead, but that’s beside the point. It was one of the most disgusting comments I’d ever heard – and let me tell ya, being in the Army for six years a guy hears a lot of nasty things – but believe it or not, at this moment I could see where he was going with that off-color remark. Still not on board, mind you, but I could see where he was going.
Not that I needed to think such thoughts because at eighteen she was a tad young for someone who was coming close to hitting twenty-five. She was too young and certainly off-limits, being Major Vanburen’s daughter. The major wanted me to befriend his daughter, who was also new to town, which made the heartbreak even worse since she had no friends here to lean on. My task was to give her a little safe male attention and pull her self-esteem out of the shitter, not to make her into my own personal fuck toy. I was supposed to be on my best behavior, not out scoring a conquest. It went without saying that Major Vanburen would stick my nuts in grip vice if I did anything out of bounds.
Still, I couldn’t deny she was hot as hell and would only become more so as she grew older and more confident in her own skin. Just by watching her I could tell she didn’t really know how sexy she was. As she turned fully toward me, I moved closer, drawn in by her and my eagerness to interact with her. As I approached and start
ed to walk past her, she didn’t raise her head and so I “accidentally” bumped into her. The bump I gave her shoulder had just enough force that she nearly dropped the stack of comics she’d been carrying toward a display. Luckily my quick reflexes steadied the books with one hand and her with the other, placing a hand onto her shoulder. “Sorry, ma’am.”
She looked down, blushing. “I didn’t see you.”
The flush of red on her cheeks was charming, and I found myself once again having to remind myself to be on my best behavior. No way soldier, no night-before-shipping-out shenanigans with this one. “Olivia?”
She looked up, clearly startled. “Sorry?”
“You’re Olivia Vanburen, aren’t you? It’s been a while, but I could swear I know you.”
She nodded, nibbling on a deliciously full bottom lip and eyeing me with more scrutiny. “Do I know you?”
I shrugged. I’d never been a good actor, perhaps this assignment was beyond my capabilities. “Not really. Your father is my commanding officer. I think I’ve seen you in his office a few times.” And I had, but not in the past three years, not since she left California to live with her mother in Massachusetts.
“Oh.” She released her lower lip and gave me a small smile. “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”
I grinned and held out a hand. “I’m Sergeant Evan Fennel, Miss Vanburen.”
She took my hand, returning my firm handshake with one of her own. It made me wonder if the major had instilled in her the need to give an impression with a firm handshake. “Just Olivia will do, Sergeant.”
“Evan, please.” I made a production of looking at her nametag. “Do you work here, Olivia?” As soon as the question came past my lips, I grimaced. Could I have sounded like more of an idiot? Her father had told me that she’d worked at the comic book store for nearly two weeks.
