Always Our Love
Copyright © 2016 by Tawdra Kandle
ISBN: 9781682307229
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover designer: Meg Murrey
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Synopsis
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Always Our Love Play List
The Posse
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books
Always Our Love
Jenna Sutton celebrated her twenty-first birthday by persuading Trent Wagoner, the guy she’d been crushing on for months, to sleep with her. When he broke her heart and crushed her dreams by rejecting her afterward, a devastated Jenna tried to end her life.
Trent has told his side of the story. So has Jenna’s mom, and her cousin, and just about everyone else in the small Georgia town of Burton.
Now it’s Jenna’s turn.
Over two years later, Jenna’s finally figuring out her life. Her job at the county historical society is steady and predictable, two elements she appreciates right now. She’s living on her own, and her world is peaceful, if lonely.
That is, until Lincoln Turner comes to town.
When Linc’s wife was killed in a car accident, she left him with two small children and a bleak future. Six years later, he’s a recovering alcoholic who’s just gotten his kids back and is ready to tackle a new position as co-owner of a building restoration company . . . in Burton.
Jenna isn’t looking for love, and Linc definitely doesn’t want any attachments. And neither of them is ready for the sparks that fly when a huge project brings them together. Still, the road to true love has more bumps than they could imagine. Making their way to a happy ending won’t be easy.
But this is Burton, and happily-ever-afters are a specialty of the house.
To my Temptresses: all the wonderful, wild and wacky women who love the voices in my head as much as I do. You are my cheerleaders, my sounding boards and my favorite readers.
My friends.
This book is dedicated to you all with love.
“HOW DO I LOOK?”
I turned away from the mirror and struck a pose, full-on model stance with my chin thrust up and my lips pouted out. From her spot on the bed, where she was idly scrolling through her phone, my friend Lucie rolled her eyes and grinned.
“Oh, please. Like you don’t know you look totally adorable.”
I shot her a mock-glare. “I do not look adorable. I’ve been doing adorable my whole life, and today it’s over. I’m twenty-one years old, and I’m not going to be the baby of the Sutton girls anymore.” I looked back into the full-length mirror, critically eyeing up my short and flouncy little skirt that was paired with the tight lace-edged tank that made my boobs look amazing. The high-heeled sandals were going to be murder on the dance floor, but they made my legs look incredibly long. “Tonight, I look hot. And sexy. And completely grown up.”
“Okay, okay, hot mama. Yes, you look good.” Lucie’s smile faded a little. “But you’re going to freeze off that cute little ass. It’s fucking winter outside, baby cakes.”
I shrugged. “I’ll wear a coat to the Road Block. Once we get inside, it’ll be hot anyway.” I licked my lips and leaned in to check my eye makeup one more time. “Plus if everything goes like I hope it does, I won’t have to worry about getting cold. I’m going to have someone to keep me real warm.”
Lucie blew out a sigh. “Jenna, are you sure about this? I mean . . . I get it. It’s your birthday, you’re finally legal, and you want to blow off some steam. Have some fun. We can do that. But this obsession with Trent Wagoner—”
“It’s not an obsession.” I pointed one perfectly manicured finger at her. “I’m not, like, stalking him or anything weird like that. We’re friends.” One side of my mouth curled up a little. “Friends who are going to become much closer tonight.”
That was the plan, anyway. When I thought of Trent’s tall, rangy body, the way his eyes warmed when he talked with me . . . I knew I wasn’t misreading the situation. He felt the same way about me that I did about him. He just had to.
For most of my life, I’d known Trent in the same way I’d known everyone else in my tiny hometown. If we’d passed on the street and someone had asked me his name, I’d have been able to give it, along with a few salient details about him. And maybe even just a few more, because people liked to talk about Trent, so I’d heard some extra stuff about his background, his family and his general reputation. He’d been born here, but no one knew whom his dad was. His mom was an alcoholic, and worse, she’d been known to turn to solicitation when times got tough. She’d been in and out of jail during Trent’s childhood, which meant he’d been in and out of foster homes.
I vaguely remembered him from school, although he was several years ahead of me. He’d been a loner, although he did party, too. He was a little too wild for most of Burton, but while he was young, much of the town tended to shake their heads and tsk about his awful family life.
Once he’d graduated, Trent had begun doing seasonal work at the local farms, living on site while they rushed to bring in the crops. But during the winter months, he’d had to find some other kind of employment.
And that was how we’d met. My uncle had hired Trent to work at his hardware store in town, and I’d already signed on for a part-time job there. I was in my third year of community college—and yes, it was a two-year school, but I hadn’t been able to settle on a major, so I was still meandering my way through classes. Uncle Larry had given me the job that fall as a favor to my mom, his sister, and to my surprise, I found I enjoyed the work. Even more, I enjoyed my co-workers.
Trent and I had become friends right away. He was easy, with his teasing ways, and I was surprised at how smart and serious he could be. He was always respectful of me, never making me feel uncomfortable even when we worked alone together. He didn’t seem very much like the guy I’d heard of from others in town.
“Kid’s got a good head.” I’d overheard my uncle talking to my dad one night after a family dinner. “Works damn hard, doesn’t mess around. Doesn’t much like customer service, but I get that. I’m thinking about bringing him on permanently, if he’d be willing to forego the farm work this year.”
I liked that idea, because in my head, it was only a matter of time before Trent and I were a couple, and having him in town all the time would be so much easier on both of us. I had it all planned out: Trent sometimes teased me about how young I was, so I figure
d he was just waiting for me to turn twenty-one before he made his move. Once that happened, we’d date for a while . . . say, maybe six months or a year. And then we’d get engaged, and my mom would plan the wedding . . . we’d live somewhere in town, and I’d stay home and raise our babies—there were going to be lots of those, I was sure—while Trent worked. Where he was working was still murky in my mind, but he’d find something. These things always worked out.
It would be totally perfect, and all I needed to make it reality was for Trent to give me a sign. Ask me out. Tell me how he felt about me. And tonight, that was going to happen. I knew that Trent hung out at the Road Block every Friday and Saturday night. The bar was owned by my cousin Rilla’s husband, Mason, and it was the most rocking spot in Burton. Of course, it was also the only place that stayed open past ten o’clock and served alcohol, so the competition wasn’t very stiff. Mason brought in the crowds like crazy, with the hot bands that played and the huge dance floor he’d been smart enough to include. I’d been there a few times to dance, but I’d never had a drink, since Mason was all too aware of my underage status. He was protective of me, probably because Rilla was, too. And he might’ve been just a little scared of my dad.
Tonight, though, giving me a drink—or more than one—would be perfectly legal, since I was finally twenty-one. No more baby sister, no more jailbait, no more boring little girl. Jenna Sutton was finally going to try out her wings.
Lucie sighed. “Jenna, I’m not going to try to talk you out of it anymore. You’re right. You’re old enough to know your own mind and make your own decisions. But darlin’, this guy’s got heartache written all over him. And we know it. We’ve seen the chicks he picks up. Do you really want to be one of Trent’s one-night wonders?”
“It’s going to be different with us. What he feels toward me isn’t just lust. We’re friends, and now we’re taking it to another level. I’m going to be the woman who changes him from a man-whore to my man. Just you watch.”
“And you don’t think a lot of the girls who’ve let him fuck them seven ways to Sunday didn’t think the same things you’re saying now? You don’t think they thought they’d be the ones to change him?”
A niggling doubt shot through my heart, but I ignored it. “Maybe they did, but they were wrong. I mean, Lucie, come on. He’s got to change and settle down at some point, right? Why not now? Why not with me?”
Lucie threw up her hands. “Sure. Why not?” She stood up, reaching for her jacket. “Are you ready? Let’s get this show on the road.” She sounded resigned, with not a trace of excitement in her voice.
“Hey there, party pooper.” I poked her side as I slid my arms into the sleeves of my own coat. “It’s my birthday, remember? So how about at least pretending you’re happy to be going out with me? You know, fake a smile. Try a squeal. It won’t hurt you.”
“Beg to differ. I am not a squealer, and if I try to fake it, I might end up pulling something essential.” She jerked her head toward my bedroom door. “After you, Miss Birthday Girl.”
The crowd at the Road Block was just as insane as I’d expected. After all, it was winter in Burton, so the farmers didn’t have as much to do as they did the rest of the year, and everyone got a little bit stir-crazy from being inside. They were standing three-deep around the bar, and the dance floor was filled with people—mostly women, for sure—rocking out to an older song I vaguely recognized.
“We’re never going to get a table.” Lucie yelled the words into my ear, but I shook my head. She forgot sometimes that I had connections.
Pushing through the group near the end of the bar, I managed to brace my foot against the bottom of a barstool and hoist myself up a little, so I could be seen above the other heads. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I bellowed, “Mason!”
The huge hunky guy pulling beers glanced over his shoulder. Spotting me, he smiled and inclined his head, acknowledging that he’d heard me. I watched as he finished filling the mugs, building the beers with a finesse I knew I’d never have. Turning, he set the drinks onto small squares of paper napkins and slid them across the polished oak bar to the guys waiting.
Only then did my favorite cousin-in-law meander down my way. He reached across, gripped my shoulders and pulled me close to kiss my face with a smack of his lips. “Happy birthday, little girl.”
If anyone else had referred to me that way, I would’ve been annoyed, but I knew this was just Mason’s way. Besides, the truth was that I was little compared to him. Just about everyone was.
“Thanks, Mase. Do you have our table ready?” I pointed behind me, to where Lucie stood, lips pursed and arms folded as she struggled to maintain her footing in the jostling crowd.
“Sure do, baby doll.” His eyes scanned the room, and when he saw who he was looking for, he cocked his head and gestured for her to come over. The waitress who responded was pretty, with dark blonde hair and a ready smile.
“Andrea, can you show my cousin here to the table I reserved for her?”
She smirked. “Would that be the one with the balloons and the big sign that says Happy Birthday, Jenna?”
I groaned. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t. This is supposed to be an adult thing, Mason. Not a kiddie party.”
He had the audacity to laugh at me. “The balloons were Rilla’s idea, and don’t you go getting mad at me for doing what my beautiful wife asked me to do.” He winked at me. “Now the sign, that was all me. But you got to roll with it, kid—after all, I did save you a table on my busiest night of the week.”
That was true, and I wasn’t really mad, anyway. I leaned up again and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Mason. Now, before I go to our table, what’s going to be my very first legal drink?”
“How about a Shirley Temple?”
I ignored him and pretended I hadn’t already been thinking about this for weeks. “Give me a Cuba Libre, please.” I glanced over at Lucie, who’d turned twenty-one back in the fall. “What’ll it be, Luce?”
She shrugged. “Just a soda water, please.” She hooked her thumb to her chest. “Designated driver, remember?”
I nodded, all the while thinking that if my plans went off as I hoped, I wouldn’t need her to drive me home. Speaking of which . . .
I took advantage of my position looming over the rest of the patrons to scan the room for the one person I desperately needed to see tonight. But there wasn’t any sign of Trent, at least not on this side of the restaurant. I couldn’t see all the way to the dance floor or to the other tables, of course, so there was a good chance he was over there.
I waved to Mason as Andrea put our drinks on a tray and began to lead us to our table. Before I got out of earshot, though, he called to me once more.
“Jenna Sutton, you behave yourself, you hear? I don’t want to have to carry you home so Boomer can rant about me letting you get drunk on your first night of being legal. Got it?”
I waved again and blew him a kiss, offering my most beatific and innocent smile. Mason only shook his head. I’d never been able to get much over on him.
Just as Andrea had said, our table had a big sign, and a bunch of balloons were tied to one of the chairs. I rolled my eyes at Lucie. “Whatever. At least we won’t lose our table, right?”
“Sure.” She pulled out the chair without balloons and sat down. “Not that I’m planning to leave it much anyway.”
“God, Luce. Can you maybe just try a little bit of a smile? For me? As a gift for my birthday?”
“I can’t help if I think this whole night is a stupid-ass idea. If you really wanted some fun, we could’ve driven into Savannah. We could have celebrated there. You might’ve met some fun guys who aren’t jerks. Maybe ended up having a happy birthday.”
“Oh, I plan on that. The happy birthday, I mean. And it looks like the present I’ve been wishing for just walked in.”
The doors had swung open on the bar side, and a group of guys who looked a little familiar moseyed in. At the back, not quite part of th
em, was Trent.
He was wearing the same old beat-up leather jacket he wore to the hardware store every day. His light brown hair looked messy, probably because there was a decent wind blowing around out there. Even as I watched, he smoothed it back, raking his fingers through the long strands. His eyes scanned the room, and my heart skipped a beat: I’d casually mentioned, three or four times, that I planned to be at the Road Block tonight. Could he be looking for me?
But even though I was pretty certain his gaze swept over my table, complete with balloons, it didn’t stop. He didn’t so much as pause when I was sure he’d seen me. Instead, he wandered over to the bar, stopping along the way to greet people as he went. Girls grabbed at his arms, trying to get his attention. A few other men slapped him on the back, and I noticed that most of those were other seasonal farmhands. Guys from town, the ones I’d known and sometimes dated in the past, ignored Trent.
It made me furious, the way people in Burton treated him. Trent was one of the kindest, smartest and hardest-working people in town, and he deserved better from all of them. Once we were married, they’d all see. I had a sudden image of the future, of the two of us standing outside the Baptist church on Front Street, while one of the elders patted my arm, saying, “We sure misjudged this young man before he married you. You’re the only one who saw his true potential.”
“Why’re you grinning like that?” Lucie cocked her head at me, brows drawn together. “You look like you know something no one else does.”
“Maybe I do.” I shot her a saucy wink. “Hey, don’t you think we need more drinks?”
“You haven’t finished the one you have.” She pointed at my half-empty glass. “Pace yourself, sweetie. And I know you don’t want to listen to my advice, but throwing yourself at Trent isn’t a good idea. If you’re so sure he feels the same way, let him come to you.”
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