Operation: Stripped & Stranded
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Copyright © 2018 by E. Kay Sims & Kiera Jayne
Gray Publishing Edition
COPYRIGHT © 2018
Photographer: CJC Photography
Cover Models: Gideon Connelly & Mike Ryann
Editing: Silvia’s Reading Corner
Cover Design & Formatting: Gray Publishing Services
Warning: This book is intended for readers 18+ as it contains adult themes, sexually explicit, themes, language, and some violence. This book may contain potential triggers for people who have suffered traumatic experiences. Reader discretion is advised.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.
eBooks are not transferrable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.
Disclaimer: We, the authors, Kiera Jayne and E. Kay Sims reserve the right to donate all proceeds/royalties of a certain amount and time as set and agreed upon by said authors of Operation Stripped and Stranded, to any Veteran Charity and/or Australian Charity of our choosing. We reserve the right to change the amounts donated and to change the charities receiving donations at our discretion.
This book is dedicated to the outstanding men and women who serve––past, present and future. They serve selflessly, with courage, dedication, honor, pride and bravery. There are no words to express enough gratitude for their willingness to put their lives on the line every day, fighting and sacrificing, so that we may continue to enjoy freedom!
Thank you for your service!
E. KAY SIMS
Firstly, I must thank my co-author Kiera Jayne for proposing the idea of co-authoring a story together. If it wasn’t for her, this story may not have existed. She’s an amazing author and I admire her work. We’ve become the best of friends. Not only is she my friend, she is my confidant and sometimes technical advisor. Kiera practically reads my mind and finishes my sentences, we get on so well. We’ve had some serious conversations and a great many laughs throughout our friendship and this writing project. She is truly an inspiration! It’s an honor and a privilege to call her my friend!
A very special thank you to my son, Rett, you always have my back. You encouraged me to follow my heart. Your words meant so much when I needed them most, “You’re never too old to make your dreams come true, Mom!” You made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry. I admire you so much for making your own dreams come true, with hard work, faith and dedication in all you do. Love you to the moon and back!
To my husband, J, thank you for sticking it out with me through thick and thin and through the Good, Bad and the Ugly. I’ll have to keep you around for a few more “enlistments” but don’t expect a sign on bonus, unless my book sells. Then I’ll give you a Fistful of Dollars! Love you, Babe.
A special thanks to my sister, Kelly Reynolds! I couldn’t have done it without you!! Thanks for being my first Beta Reader, proofreader catching my mistakes and such. You’ve been my cheerleader and confidante. Thanks for all the help! Love and hugs!
Thank you, Dreana, my totally cool and hip Mother-in-Law. Thanks for being my Second Beta-reader, and always my friend. Love You!
Thank you to my family! And to my daughter and son-in-law, for putting up with me through-out this whole process.
A huge thank you to my personal assistant, Deb Carroll. With you, all things are possible! Thank you for your continued advice, wisdom, dedication, guidance, support and help in navigating all things related to Book World. I’m honored to call you my friend! Hugs!
And last but not least, thank you, Dear Readers! It’s an honor and a privilege to be able to share my words and stories with you. Without Readers, there would be no Authors! I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy telling them. Thank you is just not enough!
KIERA JAYNE
Firstly, I would like to thank E. Kay Sims for the absolute honour of co-writing this book with her. I couldn’t have asked for a better co-author. We have had so many laughs together and you have fast become my best friend, so thank you.
To Deb, our incredible PA, your hard work and dedication is unending and I know I say this all the time, but thank you and I wish you chocolate peens!
To my friends in the book world, Morgie, Derek, Laura, Esther, Kristen, Golden, Chris G, Mary, Deb and anyone else I am sure to have missed––you’re all amazing, kind and keep me laughing often and that’s the best kind of friendship right there.
To my lifelong besties, Sharon, Renae, and Natasha, thank you for understanding my long absences between our conversations and egging me on in this crazy publishing journey.
To my co-workers, thanks for always being interested in the latest updates.
To Mum and Dad for supporting this book life of mine. My family, whom always have my back, I love you.
And finally, to the readers. You’re the most amazing people, taking a chance on our words and loving them. For the little shy girl who wrote from a young age and had no confidence in her abilities, you make my day every single day and I thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart. xoxoxo
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue 1
Prologue 2
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
Epilogue
Other Books by E. Kay Sims
Other Books by Kiera Jayne
About the Author (E.Kay Sims)
About the Author (Kiera Jayne)
GIL
“S
o, this is it, I guess. The final box. It’s just shit, honestly. You can either toss it into the rubbish or donate it to the Salvos or whatever.” I dumped the box of odds and ends onto the breakfast bar where my older sister, Kylie stood, arms folded and a stern expression on her face. “What’s your problem?”
“So, you’re really doing this, are you?” Her azure eyes were chock-full of judgment when they met mine.
“Doing what?”
I didn’t mean for my annoyance to come across in my tone. But damn it, I was annoyed. I’d been getting nothing but shit from my whole family ever since Oak Street Ice Cream Co. contacted me about bringing me on board with my unique Australian ice cream flavours. Apparently, a guy who worked for the company had stopped in our little town of Deep Lake, New South Wales, on a ho
liday in our fair country, tasted my ‘delicious creations,’ and told his superiors all about it when he got back to the States. What followed was months of back and forth negotiations and eventually, after I made sure I got a sweet deal out of it all, they decided to take me on as a flavour-inventor and consultant.
Now here I was, packing up my life as I had known it for the better part of the last twenty-nine years and getting ready to make the biggest move of my life—and take the biggest risk of my life. I was terrified and so was my family.
“Going to America. Abandoning us. Ditching Mum and Dad,” Kylie said in her abrasive voice.
“Pursuing my career?” I widened my eyes at her in question.
Kylie held up a booking sheet. “A stay in The Palazzo, Las Vegas is pursuing your career? In what world, exactly?”
“Give me that, I need it.” I snatched the paper from my sister’s grasp and slipped it neatly into my document folder. Everything I needed for my move was in my carry-on folder. I had a second one stashed inside my suitcase, just in case. I didn’t want to arrive in the U.S. only to be turned back by immigration. I had heard of such horror stories.
“Why are you going to Vegas?” Kylie demanded.
I released an annoyed groan. “What’s it matter to you?”
“You shouldn’t be going at all. What’s wrong with sticking with the ice cream shop you’ve got here in town? The locals love your ice creams. Mum and Dad love your ice creams. Who’s going to take care of them, now? They still have their doctor's appointments to go to, and they need help around the house. Dad’s chronic back pain isn’t going away anytime soon.”
I interrupted her rambling with a hand in the air. “You and Daveo are going to have to pull your weight now, aren’t you?” I laughed inwardly at the thought. Daveo, our bogan of a brother, never lifted a finger in his life. I wasn’t sure where he got his lazy bone from. Oh, wait. Yes, I did. I eyed Kylie off.
Kylie’s delicate —hands—just about the only delicate thing about her—fell to her hips. “You don’t need some big American company taking over your shit. They’re just going to ruin it, you know.”
“You don’t know that,” I responded.
“That’s what American companies do. Look what they did to Arnott’s and Vegemite, and Lord knows how many others.”
“It’s business, Kylie. They’re taking me on as a consultant, not just buying up my product and running off with it. They want me to be in charge of creating more flavours, and all the recipes stay in my hands. If it doesn’t work out, I get to walk away with my property intact. I made sure to have that stipulation written in the contract. I know a little bit about this stuff, you know?” I zipped up my suitcase and sat down to tie up the laces on my running shoes.
Kylie dropped the suitcase onto the floor and sat down beside me. “I still don’t understand what Las Vegas has to do with this.”
Did she need it spelled out for her? “Eric thought it might be a fun way to relax for my birthday before I get too settled in.”
“That Eric has always been a bad influence on you,” Kylie grumbled.
I nudged her. “Why, because he knows how to have fun?”
“He knows how to have too much fun.”
“That’s a good thing. He’s crazy and I’m…”
“A nerd?”
I glared at her, a playful twitch touching my lips. “Thank you.”
“Just saying. I think rooming with Eric is a big mistake. He’s going to lead you so far astray,” Kylie said.
I frowned at her. “You make him sound like some kind of deviant.”
“He is.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still sore over the way he turned you down back when he came to visit for my twenty-first birthday?” I couldn’t help ribbing her. She was acting bloody ridiculous.
“Don’t be stupid; I was young and silly. I know how he pushes you, that’s all.”
Usually when Eric pushed me, the results were fantastic. Like when I was on exchange in America at his school—which was how we met—it was prom night, and the girl he set me up with gave me my first kiss. Or when we went to my first high school football game and the head cheerleader, Destiny Wilmington, gave me my first blowjob underneath the bleachers. Turned out Eric set that up, too. Come to think of it; perhaps he was some sort of deviant. Well, he had been in the past anyway. Now he was playing at being Captain America in the army. He was bigger and tougher than ever. His muscles had grown exponentially, and I reckon, if I had to guess, those abs of his were made of titanium alloy. I’ll bet chicks couldn’t get enough of him. “I wish you weren’t being so selfish, though,” Kylie mumbled.
She couldn’t fucking resist, could she? I shook my head in anger and bit my tongue. The retort I wanted to throw at her was anything but gentlemanly, and one thing I was taught when I was growing up was to show women my utmost respect…even if she wasn’t showing me any.
“This town still lacks any good sorts,” Kylie mumbled.
“You’re just picky. And hung up on Eric,” I teased.
“Aw, shut up!” Kylie grumbled. She was so affronted, I knew I was right.
I got to my feet and pulled on my black jacket just as the screen door was pulled open. Mum’s willowy figure, clad in an ill-fitting dress appeared in the doorway followed by my heavyset father, who ambled inside and leaned against the breakfast bar while he tried to catch his breath.
I frowned. “What are you two doing here?”
“We couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye, Gilbert!” Mum exclaimed, shocked that I would even think such a thing.
“How did you get here?” Kylie asked. Neither of our parents drove anymore. Not since Dad’s back went and Mum began experiencing panic attacks after her minor fender bender.
“A taxi,” Dad replied. As if on cue, a horn sounded from outside. “Someone has to go out and pay him.”
Silence. I knew what was coming before it happened. Kylie and my parents looked at one another, all incredulous, before turning to me. Me. Gilbert Barlow. Their eldest son, who was leaving for America in less than ten minutes with everything he could fit into two suitcases, a carry-on, and a couple of grand worth of cash, traveller’s cheques, and a load-n-go card in his pocket, and they were still looking to me to look after them.
“For fuck sake,” I grumbled.
“Oi, language,” Mum scolded.
I tore my wallet out of my pocket, slapped it into the palm of my hand, and took out a twenty-dollar note. I waved the orange money in the air towards Kylie. “It better not cost any more than that. And on second thought, tell him to wait. It’ll save me calling for another.”
Kylie just stared at it.
“Well, go on!” I growled.
With a roll of her eyes, Kylie snatched the money from my grasp and left the flat. I felt my parents’ eyes land on me. It felt like their eyeballs were burning into my skin as I extended the handles on my suitcases.
I paused.
I couldn’t just leave like this. I couldn’t feign apathy for the two people who had raised me, loved me, given me life.
You wouldn’t believe it to look at him now, but my father was once a strong young member of the New South Wales Bushfire Brigade and a volunteer with the State Emergency Service (SES). He was a well-respected member of the community, known and loved by everyone as a stand-up citizen, a great parent, and a husband who loved his wife passionately and gave her us three schlubs.
He taught me better than this.
With a sigh, I looked at my parents and asked, “Did you go and see your doctor this morning, Dad?”
“I did.”
“Did he adjust your prescription? Did you tell him how it was making you too drowsy? You have to be careful with that stuff, you know. We don’t need you to be dependent on painkillers.”
“Yeah, kiddo, I’ll be right. We got it sorted,” my father replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Mum? What about you, will you be alright?”
“Yes, sweetie.” Her shaking voice told me otherwise.
I made my way to her and squeezed her shoulders. “You’ve got all my American contact details. Give me a little over twenty-four hours, and I’ll call you as soon as I’ve made it through customs.”
“Don’t you have a stopover in Singapore?” Mum asked.
“Korea,” I corrected.
“What the bloody hell? You’d better be on the lookout for that King Jong Um fellow! You never know what he’s up to!” Dad exclaimed in shock.
“Kim Jong Un, Dad, and I’m stopping in South Korea, not North Korea. I’m only stopping there for an hour, Mum. I’ll try to call you then. But don’t worry, okay? I’ll be fine.”
The taxi’s horn sounded once again.
I shrugged. “I need to get going.”
I unhooked the apartment's keys from my key ring and set them on the bench-top. I took one last look around the place I’d called home for the last four years, taking comfort in the thought that Sally, my real estate agent, would have the sale finalised in my absence. Then I collected my bags and made my way out to the waiting taxicab.
“The bus stop, right?” the driver verified as he pulled away from the curb.
“That’s right, Gary,” I replied.
“Where ya off to, mate?”
I was sure he already knew and was simply making small talk. Being one of only four taxi drivers in town, these guys were usually the first ones in the know. Well, after the hairdressers and bartenders anyway. I was happy enough to play along.