Kitchen Promises (Riverside Trilogy, #3) (The Riverside Trilogy)

by Brooke Cumberland

  To the authors, bloggers, and readers I’ve met along the way—I love our little community! I love getting to know everyone, helping each other out, asking for advice, asking for book recommendations, and helping out complete strangers. I’m a firm believer in karma and paying it forward. This community is just so welcoming and warm. We’re all here for one purpose and that purpose is for the love of reading and fictional characters. I can’t wait to meet you all at signings next year! Please come say hi to me! I’ll be the awkwardly shy one behind her table!

  Thank you for reading!

  All my love,

  Brooke

  xoxo

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  Continue reading for a sneak peek at

  ALWAYS YOU…

  By

  Missy Johnson

  Synopsis:

  I was thrilled when I was offered a graduate teaching position at the prestigious Tennerson Girls Academy. At twenty-three, this would be my first ‘real’ teaching assignment. Working at the elite boarding school, home to the daughters of some of the wealthiest people in the world, was a great opportunity that I would’ve been stupid to pass up.

  One week into my new job, and I suddenly had no idea why I chose high school…I was a seventeen year old boy once, I knew how teenage girls behaved.

  You can’t even imagine the hell of trying to teach thirty, hormonal driven seventeen year olds who have been cooped up, away from any male contact.

  I could handle the whispers every time I entered the room. I could even handle the obvious attempts at gaining my attention. What I couldn’t handle was her…

  Rich bitches and way too many rules. Was it any wonder that I hated school?

  Add to that the lack of male contact, and I was going insane. Like literally. I wasn’t used to this. A year ago I was normal. I had a boyfriend, friends and a loving family. There is nothing normal about me anymore, and nobody here lets me forget that.

  My name is Wrenn, and I’m only here because my aunt took me in after what happened, but my aunt also happens to be the headmistress of this academy…Can you see my problem?

  I’m hated for my lack of money, and I’m hated for who my Aunt is.

  Then he arrived. Dalton Reed. My new history teacher.

  Slowly, he helped me see that even in the worst situations, there is always hope

  Excerpt

  He dropped me back at my car just before half ten. I was shocked at how late it was. We had been talking for hours. I felt so relaxed around him, yet at the same time, nobody had ever had me feeling so damn wound up.

  “So, you still want to see this movie tomorrow?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Are you asking me out?” I asked, my tone sweet.

  “No. I’m merely trying to broaden the cinematic knowledge of one of my students.” His expression became serious. “Asking out one of my students would be incredibly unprofessional on my part, and unethical. I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

  “What if I wanted to be taken advantage of?” I moved toward him—very slowly, gauging his reaction. He held his breath as I edged closer, until our lips were almost touching. I paused, looking into his eyes, so desperately wanting to feel his lips against mine, but not wanting to step over that boundary without him wanting it equally.

  He tilted his head so his lips brushed over mine, the sensation making me dizzy. His hand wandered up to my face, his fingers gently running along my hairline. Then suddenly my lips were crushed up against his with a passion even I wasn’t expecting.

  As quickly as it began, he was away from me, his eyes a mixture of lust, regret and confusion. I was a hot mess. My heart was beating out of control, I felt hot and cold and lightheaded. Thank God I was sitting down, or I was sure I’d have ended up fainting.

  “I’m sorry, Wrenn. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.

  “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” I replied. He sat, his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, not speaking. “Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked.

  He glanced at me, confused. “The movie,” I reminded him.

  He exhaled loudly. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Maybe not, but I think we need to talk about this . . . ” He nodded as my voice trailed off.

  “I’ll call you.” His voice had softened, as had his expression. His eyes were no longer hard. I nodded, and got out of the car, closing the door. He drove off, and I stood there on the curb, staring until I could no longer see his taillights. Once he was gone, I stepped into my car.

  I sat there, trying to digest what had just happened. Kissing him had evoked everything in me. I felt like a hurricane of feelings and emotions had ripped through my body, leaving me a muddled mess inside.

  Find Missy Johnson

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  Twitter @missycjohnson

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  Continue reading for a sneak peek at

  BEHIND HIS LENS…

  By

  R.S. Grey

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jude

  “Bulliet neat, please.”

  I offer a half smile to the young bartender glancing up at me. A rosy tinge dots her cheeks as her eyes scour down my body like I’m a brand new Maserati with a cherry-red bow. The girl looks like she’s been on her feet for the past ten hours; she’s probably nearing the end of her shift. I notice this, not out empathy, but for a more self-serving purpose. After all, I’ve never been with a bartender who wasn’t more than willing to display her keen talents for me in the bedroom.

  “Anything else, sir?” she drawls seductively, looking back over her shoulder as she reaches up on her toes to grab the bottle of bourbon. Her brown eyes linger on me a beat too long, as if she’s hoping I’ll ask for her number instead of another drink. I let my dimpled smile spread an inch wider, and just like that, I know I could take her home if I wanted. Girls are easy and that’s the way I like it.

  “That’ll be it.” I toss down a hefty tip as waves of laughter overtake the guy next to me at the bar. Bennett, my best friend and lifelong wingman, is taking a swig of his IPA, apparently entertained by the spectacle.

  Pulling my glass of bourbon toward my mouth, I lean back against the bar, waiting for the bartender to walk out of earshot.

  “Sorry, man, I guess some guys just have all the luck,” I mock before tipping back a sip of the dry, smoky liquor. It warms my stomach like sunshine.

  “Yeah right, asshole. She’ll come back around and I bet she’ll only have eyes for me,” he goads.

  This is exactly how our friendship works. Bennett and I each have our own style. He’s uptown; I’m downtown. He’s a fancy accounting exec and always wears a suit to the bars right after work. His dark blond hair is always slicked back with pretentious hair gel, but women eat it up. I, on the other hand, prefer brown leather boots to loafers, and I always have an afternoon’s worth of stubble to run my hand across. Nevertheless, women usually go for one or the other, which is why our setup is flawless. We never leave a bar alone.

  “Is that girl you met the other night meeting you here?” Bennett asks, scanning the dark club for any prospects.

  Natasha. I should be excited to see her again, but it is what it is. She’s hot and wanted to meet up; I didn’t feel like saying no. It’ll make tonight a lot easier, and after a long day, that’s exactly what I need. Don’t get me wrong, she knows exactly what the score is. My M.O. has been the same for four years. I meet women that want exactly what I can offer: sex with no strings attached and no hope of any kind of relationship—

  Ever. Seeing Natasha for a second time is pushing it, but she made it clear that she knew what the arrangement is.

  As if my thoughts have conjured her on the spot, I peer over just in time to see Natasha saunter through the club’s front door. In the smoky room, it takes her a second to find me by the bar, but once she does, her seductive smile amplifies tenfold. I ignore the emptiness in my st
omach. I don’t feel a thing for her, but she’s hot and one part of my body doesn’t seem to mind watching her head over. She’s wearing a skintight, red dress and heels. Her brown hair falls straight to the top of her shoulders and her dark brown eyes gleam with excitement as she steps closer.

  “Hey, Sexy,” she coos once she’s standing in front of me. Her gaze drifts down my body and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Any concern I had about meeting up with her again is completely vaporized. We both only care about one thing.

  I arrogantly drag my gaze down her body, not bothering with any pleasantries as I rub a finger across my jaw.

  “This is my friend, Bennett,” I finally offer, trying to feign politeness as I gesture toward him.

  She flits her eyes in his direction for the briefest moment. “Nice to meet you.”

  Bennett lifts his beer in greeting, but by then, Natasha is already turned away, locked onto her prey: me. She looks like she’s about to straddle me on the bar, and I can’t help but let those images take root.

  “Are you ready?” she asks, leaning forward to whisper in my ear. I bristle as her cheap perfume overwhelms my senses, but I ignore the sensation.

  My dick doesn’t care how she smells. With a sturdy hand I brush her curvy figure aside.

  “Let me finish my drink first. Do you want something?”

  This is as close as I get to dating. I’ll buy her one drink and then we’ll leave so we can finish the night off. I have to get up early for a shoot and I don’t want her thinking she can sleep over.

  She pushes her arms under her pronounced cleavage, making sure it’s visible to everyone at the bar, and leans closer.

  “A beer would be great,” she sighs, running her fingers down the buttons of my shirt. The act feels much too intimate and I instinctively pull her hand away with a laugh. Easy tiger.

  As the bartender approaches I order Natasha an import and watch as she brings the bottle slowly to her lips. She really is hot. She has exotic features and dark, sultry eyes. Too bad I’m not interested in getting to know the person behind them.

  As the club’s music grows louder, her free hand shifts to my thigh and Bennett clears his throat as she runs her hands up and down suggestively. I have to fight back a laugh. We could probably just head to the restroom here and make it a lot quicker. I brush the hair away from her shoulder and lean in to whisper those exact words. I know she’s game, and honestly, it’s easier. I don’t even have to worry about getting her to leave my apartment afterward.

  God, I’m an asshole. I chug the rest of my bourbon in a silent toast to that thought and slam it on the bar, making eye contact with the cute bartender and flashing her one more languid grin. Natasha giggles like a slutty school girl behind me, drawing my attention away. I nod a goodbye to Bennett. He knows exactly what I’m planning, but he’s not one to judge.

  Putting my hand on the small of Natasha’s back, I lead her through the crowd, trying to decide if I want to take her in a dark corner or in one of the bathrooms. I pat the back of my jeans to confirm that my wallet and condoms are still tucked away safely. Check— I’d never fuck around without one.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Natasha oozes sensually as we wind through the club with my hand gripping her ass.

  I bite my tongue instead of commenting because to be honest, I hadn’t thought of her until Bennett brought her up. She’s a means to an end, and I thought we were clear about that fact.

  I brush her words aside and am about to lean in to whisper some bullshit about fucking her against the wall, but the sentiment stalls on the tip of my tongue when I see her.

  She’s across the dim room on the dance floor. The crowd has parted so that she’s barely visible between a thin gap of dancing bodies. A few seconds later, the dancers move and she’s hidden away again like a distant mirage. When the thump of the dubstep song fades into a pop remix, the crowd dwindles and I’m left with a perfect vantage. My jaw hits the floor as I watch her persuade the world around her to bend toward her presence. My eyes scan up and down her body, caught in her allure. She’s wearing a white, flowy dress, and I can’t tell if it’s that or her long, light blonde hair spilling down her back that makes me think she’s a fucking angel.

  There are bodies all around her, shuffling and dancing. Every guy that spies her tries to get closer, but her friend doesn’t seem to allow it. She’s like a queen among peasants.

  Would her friend let me get close?

  I doubt it.

  The two girls dance together, smiling and getting lost in the moment, oblivious to the club goers around them. Her friend is pretty too, exactly the type of girl Bennett would lose it over, with dark hair and a dark complexion. Has he seen her yet? This could work out perfectly.

  No, it wouldn’t.

  I’ve already found a girl for the night. I’m not in the habit of exerting unnecessary effort, especially when girls are just so compliant.

  I become vaguely aware of Natasha rubbing my thigh and whispering in my ear, but it’s nothing more than a faint buzzing. I would rather watch the Angel move on the dance floor. She’s completely unaware that she has the attention of every single person around her. She lifts her arms in the air, as if reaching for the wild hues strobing above her head. Then she runs the fingers of her right arm down to her left elbow, swaying to the beat of the song. I’ve never seen someone move so erotically, and I can feel my dick stir in my pants just from watching the innocent act. What the fuck? What the fuck am I doing?

  I shake the thoughts from my head, but I can’t tear my concentration away from her. I don’t want this hazy dream to end.

  “Baby, kiss me.” Natasha shoves her pink, glossy lips directly in front of me, forcing the rest of the club into hazy submission behind her. With a gruff sigh, I reluctantly oblige. This is who I am.

  Wrapping my hands around her neck, I lean back against the wall and drag her in front of me. She sidles between my legs, skimming the top of my jeans with her fingers and pushing her greedy tongue into my mouth. I kiss her hard, willing every other thought out of my mind, but it doesn’t help. Her mouth feels wrong.

  I pull away harshly, breaking our kiss, but Natasha takes it as an invitation to string kisses down my neck. Good. It means I can gaze over her head toward the dance floor. The Angel is still there, laughing with her friend and drawing me in further. Somehow the club’s spotlights only seem to cast their gentle glow around her, and I can’t help but want to bust the bulbs out so that no one else can see her.

  The thought makes me clench my eyes closed as I remind myself of what reality is. I don’t want a girl like that. She doesn’t look like the fast and easy type, and I have no business thinking about her. Get it together.

  Natasha’s prying finger dips between the buttons of my shirt and it hits me like a semi truck— I have a gorgeous girl ready to let me fuck her in the back of a club and I couldn’t care less. Since when?

  I’ve got to leave. I don’t want Natasha anymore and I don’t trust myself to move closer to the blonde angel. She doesn’t belong to me and it’s better if I leave now.

  “I’ve leaving,” I bark, grabbing my wallet and pulling out a fifty for Natasha’s cab fare. It’s the least I can do considering I’m leaving her hanging.

  “Jude! What the hell?” I shove the bill into her hand, ignoring her confused expression. Not my problem.

  “I’ll see you around,” I mutter flatly over my shoulder as I push through the crowd toward the front door, never once looking back.

  “Jude!” Natasha calls behind me, but I keep walking.

  I’ll text Bennett later. He’s probably already found a girl anyway. He doesn’t need to know about the blonde. I plan on forgetting her myself just as soon as I get home. I usually run in the mornings, but tonight I’ll take on the city’s abandoned asphalt until I can’t fucking move if it means I’ll go back to the way I felt thirty minutes ago— before I saw her.

  As I stumble out onto the cur
b, I inhale a mouthful of crisp night air, trying to cleanse my senses. After a few more clarifying breaths, I realize that seeing that girl, that Angel, was probably the closest I’ll ever come to finding love at first sight. A twisting sensation pierces my gut at the thought.

  Good thing I lost my heart four years ago or I’d be a fool for leaving without getting her name and number.

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  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Copyright

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE Molly

  1 Molly

  2 Drake

  3 Molly

  4 Drake

  5 Molly

  6 Drake

  7 Molly

  8 Drake

  9 Molly

  10 Drake

  11 Molly

  12 Drake

  13 Molly

  14 Drake

  15 Molly

  16 Drake

  17 Molly

  18 Drake

  19 Molly

  20 Drake

  Epilogue Five Years Later

  Bonus Scene Honeymoon in Ireland

  Books by Brooke Cumberland

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  sneak peek at ALWAYS YOU… By Missy Johnson

  sneak peek at BEHIND HIS LENS… By R.S. Grey