by Franca Storm
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Blurb
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
Epilogue
Other Books by Franca Storm
Thank You for Reading!
Bad Impressions
a REVIVE ME novel
FRANCA STORM
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Bad Impressions. A Revive Me Novel.
Copyright © Francesca Julia Gale (2015). All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
Cover Design by Francesca Julia Gale
Cover images provided by:
©SSilver/bigstock.com Stock Photo 11951015
©Artem Furman/bigstock.com Stock Photo 95237660
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed”. Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book”.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My husband - thank you for being there with me through the ups and downs of this business. Without you, it would’ve been that much harder, baby. I love you. (At least we tried).
Nicole at IndieSage - you are the master! Thank you for all of your hard work with me over the last few months.
Kylie at Give Me Books - for another awesome Release Blitz. You are so nice and absolutely awesome to work with.
Sherri M - a special thank you for always being there, for helping to spread the word, and for all of your amazing support. I truly appreciate it, my friend. I will never forget it.
Eve Newton - where would we be without each other? Holy hell, raising a glass to everything we’ve been through these last couple of years. Thank you!
All the Bloggers and the great FB Pages/Groups and Fellow Authors who’ve lent their support - thank you for helping me to spread the word.
My amazing loyal fans (you know who you are, lovelies) - thank you for all of your support. It’s meant so much to me. Love you guys!
Bad Impressions
She’s the one girl he never should’ve touched.
And the one girl he’s never been able to forget…
Having escaped a bad situation with an obsessive ex, Sophie Clinton is relieved when she returns to the safety of her hometown to lick her wounds. Until she runs into Brad, the man who took her virginity and broke her heart. The last thing she wants is to deal with him and all the drama of their past. But her older brother’s best friend isn’t easy to resist—or to avoid, in their tiny town.
When his best friend’s little sister returns to town, Brad Marsh knows he should keep his distance this time around. A year ago he crossed a major line with her. He’s been unable to shake the guilt of their drunken, misguided night of passion. He’s not about to make that same mistake again. But the fiery, all-consuming pull between them is stronger than ever. It might not be that easy for him to keep his hands off her.
Chapter 1
~Brad~
I shouldn’t be here.
But my damn feet kept walking, ignoring the siren-worthy warning flashing through my mind, pumping adrenaline through my veins. I was on edge. Uncomfortable in my own skin. It wasn’t a familiar feeling to me. I wasn’t the kind of guy who felt ill at ease in any situation. Hell, I was an arrogant prick most of the time. Nothing could faze me.
Nothing except her.
The town square was packed with people. Everyone and their damn mother was out tonight. Booths were scattered throughout, offering home-made lemonade, baked goods, and a whole lot of other shit. There was even a barbecue and a bunch of kegs. Tiff was manning that area tonight. I could see her flirting with two guys as she filled a couple of clear plastic cups worth of the domestic shit we’d offered up tonight.
The two of us bartended at the local pub in town, Miller’s Tavern. Luckily for me, she’d jumped at the chance to supervise the kegs tonight. She was a social butterfly. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. She was a ball-busting, loud-mouthed woman. She never shut up. Sometimes, when we were working a shift together, I swear to God, she wouldn’t even stop to take a goddamn breath when she really got into it. Half the time, I had no idea what she was even blabbering on about. Of course, that was likely because I’d developed the ability to completely block her out, having learned how to nod and murmur something at the perfect time so she believed I was listening to whatever the hell she was spouting off about that given night. I knew of one sure-fire way to shut her up, but she’d never go there with me. Why? Because of her crush on Ollie Clinton. My best friend. And screwing the best friend was a definitive way to ensure that nothing would ever happen between them. I got it. What I didn’t get was that, for a woman known for her bubbly, no-nonsense personality, why hadn’t she ever made a move on him in all these years?
Argh. What did I care?
But thinking about her shit was a good distraction. It took my mind off other unsavory things.
Marsden’s annual Fall Fair had been hijacked tonight.
The golden child had returned. The woman that everyone loved and had fawned over since she was a kid. The one person who had managed to get out of our dead-end town.
Had. Because now she was back. Indefinitely, according to Ollie. Who the hell would want to come back here? What the hell had she been thinking?
Ollie’s little sister, Sophie Clinton.
The good girl.
A woman who wasn’t supposed to get mixed up with the proverbial bad-boy types in our town.
But she had got mixed up with one of them.
Me.
Once. One night.
The biggest mistake of my life.
Fuck me. If Ollie knew about that night, I’d be a dead man.
Sure, I wasn’t a guy who played by anyone’s rules, but crossing that line, with his fucking sister had been one step too far.
It’d happened about a year ago. I’d been drunk off my ass and fucked up dealing with the shit that’d been happening in my life at the time. She’d been home from college for the summer. I knew she’d had a thing for me since high school, but I’d ignored it. Until that night. And, hell, something had just snapped in me.
I need to stop thinking about this shit.
Just knowing she was back—somewhere in the crowd—was dredging up everything I’d worked so damn hard to put behind me.
Normally, I didn’t give the women I’d fucked a second thought once the deed was done. But with Soph, it’d taken a long time to get her out of my head. And now I finally had, I wasn’t about to go bac
k on it.
No, I’d get it over with as quickly as possible, welcome her back and then get the hell out of here.
I made my way over to the kegs. Tiff hooked me up with a beer. Thankfully, any attempt at a long-winded conversation was cut short by former high school football hero, Roy Williams, making a move to chat her up. Phew. Lucky break. Keep them coming.
I spotted Ollie drinking a beer on the steps of one of the gazebos. The damn thing was all doled up with flowery wreaths of some sort. The town had gone all out as usual.
“Hey, man. Great party,” I greeted him as I slumped onto the steps beside him.
“Thanks.” A light chuckle escaped him as he said, “Soph’s pissed at me.”
God, just hearing her name messed with my insides. “How come?” I asked, as casually as possible.
“You know how she hates being made a fuss of.”
“Right, yeah.”
Ollie rubbed his shaved head roughly and blew out a breath. “I can’t believe she’s back here.”
“Why is she?”
“She told me she needs to clear her head. Something about a bad breakup with that dick she’s been dating. They moved in together less than a couple of months ago once they graduated and it’s already over.”
Yeah, the guy she’d been seeing when she’d climbed into my bed. She continued seeing him after that? Unbelievable. Wait, why do I care? I don’t. I don’t care. Get a grip.
Thankfully, I was saved from responding, when Ollie continued, “I know she’s not telling me the whole story. She’s been…off…since she got back last night. It makes me think I should be heading down to that damn city and fucking up that dickhead.”
Ollie was still the overprotective big brother he had been since her high school days. Well, more like a father, really. He’d taken on the role when their parents had died in that awful car accident during Ollie’s graduating year of high school.
“She’s a big girl now, Ollie.”
“She’ll always be my little sister. I’ll always reserve the right to deal with any guy who lays his hands on her.”
I swallowed hard at his words. “Yeah.”
My eyes darted through the crowded town square, searching for a distraction.
Unfortunately, the only thing I found was potential drama in the form of Crazy Claire Guildford. She was sauntering through the square, barely balancing on her insanely high hot pink heels and fiddling nervously with her matching strapless, skin tight dress. Her dyed blonde hair was primped beyond belief and her face was caked in makeup. Her bouncing, bra-less tits didn’t escape my attention and the memory of having each one in my mouth flashed in my mind. But it did shit for my dick. It turned me the fuck off, actually. Why? Because she was obsessed. Ever since we’d hooked up once, months ago, she’d been on my back wanting another go at it. Once was bad enough. She was married. Sure, her investment banker husband was never around and banging his secretary on a regular basis, but still.
It was becoming clear to me that, perhaps, I needed to start playing by the rules. Not doing so was bringing me all kinds of karmic repercussions.
I shot to my feet. “That’s my queue to relocate to somewhere less visible.”
Ollie followed my line of sight and rolled his eyes. He fixed me with that all-too-familiar judgmental look of his. He was a guy who always played by the rules. “I warned you about Crazy Claire, Brad.”
“Yeah, well. It’s a bit late for your I-told-you-so crap right now. It was months ago.”
“She’s definitely persistent. Maybe you should file a restraining order.”
“Hilarious.”
I didn’t wait to hear his response. The crazy bitch was getting closer. I heard him laughing as I took off, searching for cover.
***
“Hey.”
My entire body jolted to attention at that one word.
That deep, gravelly rasp of a voice.
I’d know it anywhere.
Shit. Brad Marsh was standing right behind me.
“Soph?” he tried again when I failed to respond.
The sound of my name on his lips sent a delicious tingle through me. Urgh. Stop it. You’re not some flighty adolescent with a school girl crush anymore. Pull yourself together.
There was no way I was going to let Brad see that he still affected me; that our one night together had never left my thoughts. He was arrogant enough as it was and I wasn’t about to further inflate his already massive ego. He was a complete bastard and I was damn well going to remember that this time.
Drawing in a calming breath, I forced myself to turn around.
Oh no! I’d forgotten how hot he was.
The memory of him had faded over the last year, with a lot of effort on my part.
At six-foot-five, he was a towering wall of domineering muscle. Wearing his signature black leather jacket and jeans, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a Calvin Klein commercial. His thick dark brown hair had grown out since the last time I’d seen him. It was wild now. He definitely had that whole bed head thing going on. But the thing that stumped me the most were those eyes. Striking hazel pools of intensity. I’d never known a man with eyes as incredible as his.
“Bradley,” I managed.
I watched him flinch at my impersonal tone and my purposeful use of his full name. No one called him by that. It was always Brad to everyone that knew him. I was making a point and erecting a firm wall between us, letting him know how it was going to be.
He looked pissed. His jaw set in a stiff line and he ground out, “Welcome home.”
“Thanks.”
He shifted his weight uncomfortably and folded his arms across his chest. His biceps strained against the leather of his jacket and a whisper of desire shot through me. I hated myself for it. He didn’t deserve any of my attention. Not after what he’d done. Not after how he’d left things between us. Like I said, a real bastard through and through. I had to keep reminding myself of that. He was the most distracting man I had ever met. My head knew to run for the hills whenever he was around, but my body? That was a whole other story. It always betrayed me when he was near. It always had. And because I’d had a taste of what he had to offer, it was even worse.
“Ollie says you’re back for good. That true?”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my navy hoodie. “Maybe.”
He scoffed and shook his head.
How dare he? “What?” I demanded.
“You got out, Soph!” he hissed, taking a step closer to me. “Why would you come back here?”
I couldn’t believe it. Brad Marsh was lecturing me? Where the hell did he get off?
“It’s not your business.”
“Just asking a question. I’ve never known you to get your back up so easily.”
“You don’t know anything about my life this last year.”
His eyes bore into mine intensely as he said, “I know you.”
It caught me off guard.
I was painfully aware that he was standing right in front of me now. There was barely any space between us. I could smell his distinctive scent; that whisper of cologne mixed with sandalwood. All man.
“What…what does that mean?” I shot back, hating the flustered waver in my voice.
“You’re better than this,” he growled. He gestured wildly behind us at the town square. “Better than this dead-end town.”
“Why do you care?”
He leaned into me then. I failed to stifle a gasp as I felt his warm breath against my ear. “I’ve always cared, darlin’.”
Heat radiated through me. I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Couldn’t think. But, as he pulled back, breaking the spell he’d cast over me, my common-sense returned.
“Cared? Is that what you call it?” I snapped, harshly. He always did this to me. He always brought out my inner bitch.
“Yeah,” he said, standing firm.
I couldn’t hold it in.
I knew I should. I didn’t want h
im to know he’d got to me. I didn’t want him to know he’d hurt me.
But I couldn’t hold back and I ended up yelling, “You could have called!”
I watched his eyes flicker with something then…regret? I wasn’t sure and it was gone as quickly as it’d appeared. “I did what I had to do.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He didn’t answer. He just stared at me. Well through me.
He was trying to figure me out, like he always had. He was good at it. We’d been close growing up, on account of him spending more time at my house with my brother, than at his own. He’d been the one person who had always been able to figure me out.
But I knew he wouldn’t be able to anymore.
I’d erected a lot of protective walls in the last year since I’d seen him. Not really because of him. More so, because of my ex.
His brow furrowed with confusion when he realized he couldn’t figure me out.
“What happened?”
Talk about coming out of left field. “What?”
“Why are you like this?”
“Like what?”
“So…guarded. This isn’t the Sophie I know.”
“The Sophie you know? You mean the Sophie that you fucked and chucked?”
He recoiled at my words and stepped back. “That’s not what happened.”
“It felt a hell of a lot like it to me. You could’ve just told me the truth. You could’ve just admitted it was only sex to you and you didn’t want anything else. You didn’t have to blow me off like that.”
His eyes narrowed.
I saw the flicker of that infamous temper of his.
And then he fired it at me. “Weren’t you dating someone when you begged me to fuck you?”
“I—”
He moved closer again and glowered down at me, heatedly. “Yeah, I believe you were,” he rumbled. “Yet, you came to me. You came to me, Soph, not the other way around. You spread your legs for me and begged me to fuck that sweet pussy. And you loved every moment of it, everything I did to you.” He leaned in and whispered, “Remember? Remember how you were trembling in my arms, screaming my name, out of your mind with the pleasure I gave you?”
