Piper and Phoenix are three going on thirteen and with their newest seven-month-old addition, Paisley, they have their hands full. This is going to be a fun plane ride.
After we get back from England, I’ll have two months before I finally graduate from college with a degree in architecture, Billie can’t wait to celebrate, but what she doesn’t know is that over the past year I’ve been designing and building her a house that is fit for a family. It’s ready to show her and I can’t wait to see her face light up. Of course it contains a few secret hideaways that I’ll let her discover on her own, I won’t give away all of the tricks.
I hook my arm around Billie’s shoulders and kiss her on the temple. “God, I love you more every single day, Mrs. Jennings.”
She giggles as I palm her breast discretely. “Yeah, get your fill now. I think my dad nearly had a heart attack at the wedding when you couldn’t keep your hands off me. You can’t be doing that around my parents.”
“Wanna bet?”
Keep reading on for an excerpt of One Moment; Sammy and Con’s story. There also may or may not be some bonus scenes for Betting On Love, (including an engagement party and a wedding), in my reader group, but shhh, I didn’t tell you that ;) https://www.facebook.com/groups/735761679920055/
I hope you all enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it, if you did, please go to the site you got it from and leave a review. Reviews make or break authors, and I would appreciate it so much! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my book. I am so, so grateful.
There’s a Pinterest board with photos and quotes on that helped to inspire Betting On Love. Pop on over and take a look. https://uk.pinterest.com/authordd/betting-on-love/
Danielle has always dreamed about writing a book. With many stories to tell, she finally pulled her finger out one morning when one story screamed at her louder than the rest. When Danielle’s not writing, she can be found painting people’s faces with makeup or watching twenty-minute cat videos late at night, procrastination is strong in this one. If you’re ever short for shoes to match your outfit, she’s the person to go to. With an extensive collection that cost more than your mortgage (although she would insist she doesn’t have a problem), you can take your pick. An avid reader all her life, she gets lost in the magic a book immerses you in and hopes to capture that for her readers.
“Tommy! No no no! Wake up… Wake up… Connor, help him!” My eyes shoot open as her voice lingers in my head, just like it always does. I run a sweaty palm over my face and through my short hair, the nightmare still echoing in my mind. I glance over at my alarm clock, yet again I haven’t made it past five in the morning, I can’t remember the last time I had full night of undisturbed sleep. It’s starting to take its toll, the stinging in my eyes tell me that much.
While I wait for my eyes to adjust, I sit up, looking around my pitch black room and sigh. I know trying to get back to sleep is pointless, I never can no matter how many times I try.
Stretching my arms above my head, I try to work the kinks out my muscles before pulling the comforter off my tangled body, and get out of bed. I bypass my closet, choosing to stay in my jogger shorts, and stop at the bathroom on my way to the makeshift gym in the guest bedroom, or what should be the guest bedroom, to brush my teeth.
As soon as I lift the dumbbells, the memory that plagues my mind on a regular basis starts winding its way through my head. It’s getting extremely hard to concentrate with the image of my old best friend circling around my mind; the tears streaming down her face as she screams at me to do something. I push myself harder, trying to rid my head of it all until my eyes start swimming with speckled white lights, stopping to take a much needed deep breath.
Every year I go back to the place that haunts my every nightmare, I know it isn’t good for me, but I can’t help the pull I feel anymore than I can change what happened that day. But not even the nightmares can stop me from going back every year, torturing myself in the process.
Every time I come back home, I always have an intense feeling of loneliness and the same question rattling about in my mind.
Why can’t I just move on?
I pour a cup of water out of the cooler and take a big gulp before walking back over to the weight rack to do my next set. Even after all these years, the thought of going back to that place has me on edge, I need to work off all this tension, so I roll my shoulders and lift the dumbbells for another gruelling workout.
After a long shower, I get dressed and slip on my work boots, making a mental note to call my Mom later. I keep putting it off, but I won’t be able to for much longer, I know that she worries about me and I don’t mean to make her feel that way, I just like my own space sometimes. She wants me to settle down, get married and have kids but whenever I go out on a date, it just feels forced, like something is missing. I just never feel that connection that you’d expect to have with someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with. It all just feels empty and pointless, so I don’t bother anymore.
Leaving my apartment and getting into my truck, my mind swirls with memories that I still can’t shake. I grip the steering wheel, sucking in deep, calming breaths. I need to try banish these thoughts before I get to work, it’s dangerous for me to be distracted when out on a job, not only for me, but for the other guys too.
I scan the parking lot as I pull into my designated spot, nobody else is here yet and I hope they won’t be for another ten minutes.
I need to get my head in the game.
Jumping out of my truck, I make my way inside the trailer that holds my office. I notice sticky notes on my computer screen and sigh at the extra workload. I’m struggling to fit everything in as it is, but I guess this can only be a good thing, it means the company name is spreading which in turn equals more business. The problem is that we’re already booked solid for the next couple of months and I hate to turn down good business. Maybe the expansion I keep putting off needs to happen sooner rather than later?
As I work my way through the yellow notes on my screen, I hear the first car pull up outside onto the gravel and I realize I haven’t put the new work schedule up for this week. Most of the guys are still on the same jobs they were on last week so they know what they’re doing, but I had to hire a few more guys to help with the extra work we have on and they will need to know where they’re going.
Today we’re laying down a new roof and as tired as I am, I need to make sure I’m alert. I run my fingers through my hair and open the spreadsheet on the computer to print the new schedule out. I pick it up on the way to the break room and pin it to the notice board.
“Morning, boss.” I hate being called that, but he’s a new kid so I’ll let him off.
“Morning, Tate. I’ve got you with Perry and Samson today in downtown, you ready for your second week?” I ask, and he nods enthusiastically at me.
I shoot a quick goodbye his way as I grab the keys to the work van and head out to wait for Dalby and Mac. They arrive just as I’m sorting through all the tools in the back and immediately start helping me.
“You look like crap, rough night?” Mac says, grinning at me.
Dalby looks at me out the corner of his eye and climbs into the van, giving us some privacy.
I turn to Mac. “Good morning to you too, a pleasure as always. I didn’t get much sleep last night so thanks for pointing that out. Get on in, I’ll close up.”
He lifts his brow in question but doesn’t say anything as he turns and climbs into the van. I never can keep anything from him, he’s perceptive, although some would call it nosey.
I get in the driver’s seat and start the van, it sputters to life and I pull out of the parking lot to head to the Sweeney’s house to start on their roof. I just hope the memories of this morning will stay away.
It’s hot today, really hot. In fact, it’s so hot that I’m glad I’m wearing black otherwise I would have to explain why my ass looks like I’ve not made it to the bathroom in time. We have two fans aro
und the salon, but all they seem to be doing is blowing out hot air.
“…and then he said ‘ya’ll need to stop interfering’. Can you believe that?” That’s the second time Nora, a particularly nosey old bat, has told me this today.
“He didn’t,” I reply, trying to feign interest.
My best friend and business partner, Keeley, rolls her eyes at me. I don’t know what she’s rolling her eyes at, I’m the one who has to cut Nora’s hair every time, not her.
“And to think I used to look after the little brat, he should show some respect for his elders!” she exclaims.
Same old, same old. Nora is the town’s gossip and busy body. She has her nose in every little thing that goes on in town. She’s always offering to help no matter what it is, if there’s a way she can squeeze herself into any situation, she will. It isn’t out the goodness of her own heart though; she just wants to be involved in anything and everything, afraid she’ll not be in loop that is everybody else’s lives.
“Regular cut, Nora? Or are we feeling adventurous today?” I ask out of politeness, but I know she won’t ever change her hairstyle. She’s probably had the same one since the seventies.
“Oh no, dear, just a trim.” She scoffs and waves her hand as if the idea is ridiculous.
Right, just as I expected. Why today of all days did she have to book in to have her hair done? Then it dawns on me. She wants to see how I’m doing. Nosey old bat.
Half hour more and I’m out of here, Keeley said she’d cover my last two regulars so I can go and be by myself. Today, it’s just what I need.
I dread this day every single year. Eight years. Eight years since my life was turned upside down. The old familiar ache of guilt and regret starts to spread through my chest and my hands begin to shake. The heat on top of it all doesn’t help and I need to go, now.
“Kee, would you finish off Nora’s cut please? I’m starting to feel a little light headed,” I ask.
I can see the worry that starts to creep into her eyes, so I offer her a smile before I turn my head away from her scrutinizing gaze to apologize to Nora. She gives me an inquisitive look but I don’t give her the satisfaction of an explanation, I just make a dash for the back room before the first tear falls down my cheek.
Whoever said it gets better with time, obviously hasn’t experienced loss. It never gets any easier, you just get used to the grief that consumes you until it suddenly becomes normal. I wipe my eyes, getting rid of any evidence that I’ve been crying, grab my purse, and say a quick goodbye to Kee and Nora as I make my way out the door for some fresh air.
My feet automatically take me in the direction of the beach, as if it’s programmed into my brain. The breeze gives me a much needed reprieve from the stifling air of the salon and I tip my head back to take in the sunshine that is pouring down on me. It’s such a beautiful day out and I smile politely at people that I pass as I walk down main street, trying to ignore all of the sympathetic looks I get in return. I can’t stand those looks. I wish people would recognize me for all that I’ve overcome, I’m more than just the daughter of a drunk, the sister of ‘that poor boy’. I’m a successful business owner despite it all, but none of that seems to matter. People just remember the negative.
I start to slow my pace as I get closer to the beach, my heart trying to fight its way out of my chest as it looms in sight. At the edge of the sand, I take my sandals off to feel the soft grains running between my toes; the sun has kept it warm. I walk in the direction of the dock which spans to nearly half way across the lake and nearing the end, I close my eyes and relish in the sun’s rays beating down onto my milky white skin. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to turn back time. To change everything.
“Another year huh, bud?” I whisper into the air.
Universal buy link for One Moment: mybook.to/onemoment
One Moment, Little Hollow series; Book 1
When I’m With You, Little Hollow series; Book 2
Restoring Faith, Little Hollow series; Book 3 (Coming summer 2017)
Betting On Love - Standalone
E-mail: [email protected]
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Betting On Love Page 20
