Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3)

by D. A. Young

  He treated them each to a superior smirk that made them grind their molars painfully. “That’s if you still have them once your prime minister discovers all of the bullshit that could have been prevented. All this because you’re both still pissed about being ‘Junipered’.”

  Both men bristled at the phrase that was infamously coined in the intelligence world, thanks to them. Melvin Juniper was a loyal employee of the ASN who turned rogue whistleblower out of the blue two years ago. When Graham was employed by the NSA, he’d noticed a pattern of files that were opened from an unknown source. He followed the pattern and discovered Juniper hacking into the Australian organization’s confidential files and ASO’s as well.

  With permission from his superior, Graham confided his discoveries to the arrogant duo confronting him and was promptly told to shove his findings up his ass. Warrick and Vechers had been obscenely condescending in assuring Graham that Melvin was a mere pencil-pushing flunky and in no way a threat to their national security.

  Juniper fled Australia and sold some invaluable information to a few well-known terrorist organizations while in hiding. Warrick and Vechers had been forced to swallow their pride and egos to beg Graham for his assistance in locating the traitor, but he’d refused to assist in the search. They didn’t need to know that he’d retrieved all information from Juniper and disabled his systems. Let the assholes sweat it out.

  Warrick and Vechers exchanged a commiserating glance, both knowing that Carlton had them backed into a corner with their bollocks in his pockets. Reluctantly, Warrick held out the passport and spoke in a grudging tone. “Alright, Carlton, perhaps we were a bit hasty in our approach—”

  “I’d hardly call an ambush an approach, Warrick,” Graham brusquely interrupted as he snatched the passport out of his hand. “Quit trying to jam me up and listen closely as I won’t repeat myself again. I am not here in a working capacity. If I even see any agents in the vicinity, I might decide not to respond to my email reminders. Now, get out.”

  Fuming, Warrick flung the passenger door open and exited the vehicle without another word or glance at him. Vechers stared after him for a moment before addressing Graham in a confidential whisper. “Just so we’re clear, Carlton; this was all Warrick’s ide–”

  “Why am I still seeing you?”

  “Right. Enjoy your visit then.” Vechers scrambled to the door and squeezed his large frame out of the car before slamming the door behind him.

  Graham leaned back against his seat and pressed the intercom.

  “Ready, sir?” his driver politely inquired. After rattling off the address, Graham leaned back in his seat and willed himself to relax. After months of searching, he was finally closing in on his quarry.

  Annabelle was solely responsible for his lack of interest in any other woman who wasn’t related to Graham since he first saw her picture. It was a maddening reaction for the man who considered himself to be a connoisseur of women but one that Graham was gradually resigning himself to since discovering the existence of the lovely veterinarian. He couldn’t wait to peer into her large, dark, wide-set eyes and see if they were as expressive as they appeared in pictures. If Annabelle’s gorgeous sable complexion was actually that silky smooth and flawless. Graham’s fingers itched to trace her body that was blessed with curves so generous, they made hills look as flat as plateaus.

  He stared out the window, processing the scenery that whizzed by. The cloudless azure sky and sun shining bright enough to blind with seagulls soaring high. Back in Baymoor, it was barely forty degrees and snowing back while here on the other side of the world, it was summer and people were dressed accordingly as they biked and skated on the sidewalks. Graham could see the beach was packed, and speedboats and yachts were leaving the harbor and venturing into the ocean.

  The car entered a suburb called the Shire of Furla and headed toward Furla Heads, the popular tourist attraction and heart of the entertainment district located on Hastings, which was the area’s main street. The driver stopped in front of a popular hotel, and Graham got out with his bags. After checking in, he joined the crowd headed to the beach and his destination. But he never made it to Cameroo Animal Clinic. As Graham surveyed his surroundings, he found exactly whom he was looking for chilling on the beach.

  About two hundred feet from him, sitting on a lounge chair on the pristine white sand, was Annabelle. Her back was to him, but instinctively, he knew it was her. She was rotating between casually flipping through a magazine and watching the surfers maneuvering the rolling waves. For a moment, Graham paused just to enjoy the incredible view she presented that had his mouth salivating and his dick hardening and throbbing uncontrollably. With her gorgeous dark skin in that magenta one-piece bathing suit, Annabelle was magnificent. Her long, dark braids were piled in a haphazard bun thingy atop her head, allowing him a view of her elegant neck and gently rounded shoulders. From where he stood, Graham was afforded the outline of a full curvy hip, plump ass cheek, and a thick, shapely thigh. Have mercy.

  He was pretty fucked and not in a good way, Graham thought to himself with a grimace as he shifted his stance to give his boy some breathing room. They weren’t even face-to-face yet, and she was already wreaking havoc on him. It was time to test the waters.

  ***

  Hand pressed against the cool, wet tile, eyes closed, and head down, Graham pleasured himself with long smooth strokes to the memory of the way the sweetheart shaped neckline of Annabelle’s swimsuit clung to her lush breasts. He imagined himself settling between her thick, inviting thighs and peeling the clingy fabric back to reveal the hidden delights beneath. Graham knew her breasts would be perfect just like the rest of her, and his movements increased as he imagined burying his face in her generous bosom while sinking into her pussy. He ejaculated with a roar as the cold water rained down on him from the showerhead. But it was an empty outlet, nothing like the real thing he was fantasizing about.

  With frustration, he watched the thick spurts of his release swirl with the water and go down the shower drain. Graham pounded his fist against the tile wall before grabbing the washcloth and soap to finish his shower. He could still feel the heated perusal Annabelle had treated him to as he walked by her. From his peripherals, Graham was able to see her pause in her page-flipping and her ripe mouth purse as she peered at him over the top of her sunglasses. That she wasn’t immune to him and approved of what she saw filled Graham with a relief that he found disturbing.

  He thought the days of giving a damn about what anyone thought of him were long gone. That Ingrid screaming about him being worthless and then the group home owner who assured him he’d never amount to anything were a thing of the past. The drill sergeants in the Marines hadn’t bothered him so much. By the time Graham got to them, his shield was hardened and his ‘fuck you’ mentality was firmly in place. It galled him to suddenly find himself caring about someone’s opinion of him. Especially a female’s, which he’d never had a problem attracting. But Graham had known from the moment Kenya Griggs shoved Annabelle’s picture into his hands that she wasn’t just ‘anyone’, she was the only one who would do. In his bed.

  Chapter Four

  Annabelle watched his relaxed stride and was glad that her aviators hid her eyes from the tall, well-muscled man. He was too fine for words with his rich brown skin, almond-shaped brown eyes, and bald head. A goatee lined his firm, square jaw and emphasized his full sculpted lips. His short-sleeved, button-down white linen shirt revealed tattoo sleeves on each arm, and his white linen cargos showed off his thick calves. Oozing with confidence and swagger, he had every woman’s eyes on the beach on him, but he seemed oblivious, or maybe he was just use to it…

  This was the second time in just as many days that she’d seen him on the beach, and it was bothering her. He was trouble, pure and simple, she told herself and quickly averted her eyes to stare down unseeingly at the magazine in her lap. Although he gave the appearance of being on chill mode, he was anything but, more like a lar
ge black panther on the hunt, stealthily on the move.

  As he approached her lounge chair, the desire to flee was quickly rising within her, and Annabelle obeyed it, dropping the magazine and sitting up to slide her feet into her flip flops. She hadn’t gotten as far as she had without following her instincts. But it was too late. He dropped down on her chair next to her, and she was assailed by the alluring scent of his cologne. Those dark, penetrating eyes roamed over her swimsuit-clad body slowly, and she forgot to breathe as his gaze touched her like a physical caress.

  The good Lord had made no mistakes with this man, Annabelle acknowledged to herself silently as her stomach plummeted only to rise back up as the butterflies took flight. His eyes definitely sealed the deal with the ladies, Annabelle was willing to bet. Soft, drowsy looking, and heavy-lidded, they were framed by a thick sweep of curly black lashes and reminded her of Rolos candy— milk chocolate with a lighter caramel center. Bedroom eyes. This man didn’t have to do a damn thing to pull women. She’d bet money that if he simply blinked, panties dropped.

  His voice was so deep, smooth, and rich, like a fine wine that Annabelle wanted to get drunk on, and that realization stunned her into silence, which was why it took her a moment to process his words.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Annabelle Gaines. You’ve led me on a long and not so merry chase, but it’s time to stop running. My name is Graham Carlton, and I’ve come to take you home to Baymoor,” he said. “I’m a friend—”

  He was talking but Annabelle didn’t hear anything else after Baymoor. Fear wrapped its icy talons around her heart and clenched it. She opened her mouth to deny his claim, but the astute directness of his gaze warned her that he was smarter than the average bear. And that’s when Annabelle’s fear receded.

  This man had tracked her to the other side of the world with the intent to bring her back to Davis Fowler and a life in purgatory. Well, he would die trying because the stakes were too high for Annabelle to ever return to Baymoor. The realization spurred her into action. She grabbed the small can of mace she kept under her towel and sprayed him directly in the face.

  “The hell?!”

  He’d been caught slipping. One minute, Graham was appreciating the fact that he was in her presence, and in the next, liquid fire was being sprayed in his face, scalding his skin. His face felt scorched, and he rose to seek water to extinguish the pain but found himself too busy trying to regain his balance from the hard shove Annabelle suddenly gave him. Graham fell off the lounger, and if this humiliating scenario wasn’t bad enough, he felt a bomb detonate in his balls when her foot connected with them and then again when she followed up with another kick for good measure.

  Annabelle leaned above him, giving Graham, from what could see between his burning watering retinas, a first-class view of the psychotic he’d just unleashed. “Fuck you! I’m never returning to Baymoor, so why don’t you run and tell that like a good little errand boy? Stay. Away. From. Me. If you come near me again, I will KILL you!”

  Not even Satan himself would fuck with a chick this certifiable. What the fuck was her problem?! If she was anyone else, Graham would have been plotting their demise and then following through with executing it. If he didn’t know what this woman had gone through, a part of Graham would almost admire her sneak attack. Almost. He reserved the right to revisit that thought at a later time. Like when his balls finally dropped out of his throat. Graham was profoundly disappointed to discover that the woman he’d infinitely fantasized about was nuttier than squirrel shit.

  A crowd was gathering around them when Annabelle threateningly waved her mace in his face again, but this time, Graham managed to lock his hand around her wrist and wrestle it from her grasp while using his leg to sweep hers out from under her, causing Annabelle to land flat on her ass next to him. The crowd stirred in outraged anger and started to hurl insults and boo him.

  Wheezing through the excruciating agony, Graham managed to snarl at her, “You’re a certifiable lunatic! Did you not hear me?! I’m a friend of Edith’s and Misha’s! She told me where I could find you! Said to tell you that she was ‘no longer wondering’, whatever the fuck that means.”

  “Edith told you where to find me?” Annabelle was stunned by his admission before scrambling to her feet and dusting the sand from her body. “Well why didn’t you just say that?!”

  “Annabelle, I’m tired of wondering what it would be like to be free.”

  She could still recall her excitement at reading the email consisting of that one line.

  “I did, but like most crazy people, you’re clearly not able to process common sense and logic!” Graham was grinding his teeth through the pain so hard, he thought they’d shatter.

  Instantly, Annabelle was filled with contrition as she observed his red eyes while he struggled to his feet. “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry about this! Here, let me help you into the lounger.”

  “Stay right where you are!” Graham barked hoarsely, holding his hands up to ward her off and Annabelle stopped in her tracks.

  Did he really just make the sign of the cross toward her?

  “Lady, I only need one thing from you.” He managed to get up and stay upright, but walking was another matter, and Graham would be damned if he fell out like a punk in front of her.

  “Anything! Here, let me get you some water for your eyes,” Annabelle suggested helpfully. She grabbed her water bottle from next to the lounger and offered it to him. “Why don’t you lean on me for support and I can get you settled in the chair?”

  Her large brown eyes were filled with mortification and regret, and her small teeth worried that generous bottom lip that Graham found fascinating. He was pissed to find that he was still turned on by this nut job after the injuries she’d inflicted on him.

  “The only thing I need right now is for you to get the hell away from me.”

  ***

  “Tell me you didn’t!” Edith Fowler wailed into Annabelle’s ear, prompting her to hold the phone receiver away. “Why would you do something like that to him?!”

  “Why would I not?” Annabelle retorted. “Screw the dumb shit, Edith! If a stranger rolls up on me and mentions bringing me back to Baymoor of all places, I’m reacting not asking questions!”

  “A tall, dark, and handsome stranger that I practically gift-wrapped for you appears, and the first thing that comes to your twisted little mind is to assault a man that fiiine? And after I assured him that you were a lovely person,” Edith clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, honey, it’s just been you and those animals for far too long. You don’t even have any social skills. You’re like Mowgli from “The Jungle Book”. You know the little boy who lived among the animals?”

  “I’m familiar with the movie, but the key word here is stranger, Edith,” Annabelle reminded her meaningfully then paused as she recalled Edith’s words. “Hold up! Run that part about ‘gift-wrapping’ him by me one more time, please.”

  Edith’s exuberant laugh filled Annabelle’s ear, and it made her smile despite the current level of anxiety she was feeling from her earlier altercation with Graham Carlton. It was a sound that Annabelle was unused to hearing but was now occurring with more frequency. Years of living in that house of horrors with her sadistic husband, Brenton, had been anything but joyful and laughter filled. Now that the bastard was dead, Edith had shed the encumbrance of being married to a Fowler and was making up for lost time. She was taking chances and trying new things like matchmaking apparently.

  “I was wondering if you were going to catch that. Graham started looking for you on behalf of your friends. His sister, Georgina, asked him to after hearing about your story from Chelsea and Kenya when she moved back to Baymoor.”

  “Georgie came home?!” Annabelle was surprised to hear that, considering her friend had vowed never to return. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s doing very well, which doesn’t come as a surprise to me,” Edith replied with fondness. “Even as a child, I could
see the strength and determination in her. Georgina owns her own lingerie business and recently got married toooo…” Edith paused for dramatic effect before theatrically declaring, “Maxwell Hayes!!!”

  “Farmer Max finally got married?! No way! I didn’t think there was a woman alive who could bring him to the altar.” Annabelle was easily able to conjure up an image of the good-looking farmer and was shocked that he was no longer a bachelor. She remembered how all the women, single and married, were gaga for him, trying their hardest to catch him, despite his clear avoidance of them. No matter how much Annabelle denied it, Davis had often accused her of having a thing for their client and vice versa. But that was completely untrue. Max just preferred Annabelle’s gentle mannerisms and considerate handling of his animals to Davis’s condescending and snarky attitude. She and Max had a mutually respectable working relationship, and Annabelle admired the way the farmer’s animals were his number one priority. To know that he married Georgina Carlton was a pleasant surprise.

  “Yes, and they are amazing together! Like her aunt and uncle, I’m certain they have a long happy union ahead of them.” There was a wistful note in Edith’s voice, and Annabelle understood where it was born from. It was where castles, carriages drawn by white horses, and happily-ever-afters died. The home of broken fairytales. Edith, like the rest of the Fowler wives before her, had entered into her marriage suffering from grand delusions of an everlasting love. She’d barely said ‘I do’ before she was being abused on the regular. “So are her sister and Sheriff Holloway. They have a daughter together and are engaged.”

  “Wow! Two of Baymoor’s confirmed bachelors taken off the market in less than a year and by sisters! I thought those two besties would grow old together on Max’s porch.” The familiar heaviness settled on Annabelle’s heart, realizing exactly how much she’d missed out on.