Blood rushed to his dick, leaving his mouth dry. “Need to know what?”
“Damn it, Hunter!” She gave him a shove, forcing him further along the wooden slats of the dock. “Stop avoiding my question.”
“Why are you asking me about it?”
Her face tightened in pain, and she closed her eyes. The urge to pull her into his arms flared in the center of his chest and spread to his arms, but before he could act on it, she pushed past him toward the end of the dock. She stood there in silence, staring out into the lake and rubbing her bare arms.
The urge grew stronger, and he came up behind her. As much as he wanted to touch her, he held back, worried he might trip some wire inside her that would detonate any hope he’d have of a relationship with her. “Chelsea?”
“For so many years, I thought you hated me. And now I’m learning the opposite was true.” Her voice caught, and a fat tear sparkled in the moonlight as it ran down her cheek. “You were my knight in shining armor, and I never even knew it.”
The tears proved to be his undoing. He turned her around and pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
The vulnerability glowing from her eyes as she looked up at him tore at his heart, and he struggled to find the right thing to say. “I told you before that I never hated you.” He wiped the tears away with his thumb. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“I’m starting to see that now.”
His heart started to swell, but he still couldn’t find the courage to confess everything. Not yet.
“Is there anything else I should know about?” she asked, winding her arms around his neck.
“How much time can you give me?”
“Depends on how much time you’re willing to give me.”
The faint strains of Anne Murray’s “Could I Have This Dance?” filtered down to the lake from the party, and he started to sway with her in time with the music.
She smiled up at him. “This is Bubba and Lisa’s song.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t dance to it.” He started humming along with the melody, and when the chorus came on, he sang it softly to her.
Her smile widened, and as the song ended, she pulled him down into a kiss that burned away the last of his fears. The woman he’d spent years quietly yearning for was now in his arms, and he couldn’t define heaven in any other way.
“So when are you moving up to Durham?” she asked hesitantly at the end of the kiss.
“Next week.”
“Any chance we could continue this up there?”
His dick was already hardening at the thought of spending more nights tangled in the sheets with her, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “I would say that’s a definite yes. That is, if you don’t mind the long hours I’ll have to spend at the hospital over the next five years.”
“I think I can handle them, so long as I get to enjoy your company when you’re not there.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. “I know a good man when I see him.”
The next kiss had him all but ready to strip off his clothes and go skinny-dipping with her in the lake. It aroused him, tempted him, and left him feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
Until someone sounded an air horn a few feet away from them.
Chelsea jumped and threw him off balance. He struggled to find his footing, but the cold water of the lake greeted him with a splash. When he came to the surface, Chelsea was smacking a laughing J.T.
“Hey, I had to make sure you two kept things at a PG level, and it was the only way I could get your attention,” the best man said, the air horn still in his hand.
Chelsea gave him one final swat before crouching at the end of the dock and extending a hand to Hunter. “Here. Let me help you out.”
He swam up to the dock and looked past her at J.T. The grin on his friend’s face said only one thing.
I dare you to do it.
Hunter grinned back at him and took Chelsea’s hand, bracing his feet against one of the dock’s pillars. A swift tug ended with another splash and a slew of four-letter words once she surfaced in the water beside him.
“Hunter McLemore, I swear to God that—”
He silenced her with a kiss that would definitely make some of the onlookers blush. “Have I ever told you how lovely you are when you’re soaking wet?”
The anger vanished from her face. She lowered her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. “Aren’t we past the stage where pulling pigtails is considered a sign of a boy liking a girl?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing the way wet clothes cling to that sexy body of yours.”
A chorus of aws and whistles came from their audience, forcing Hunter to lower his voice and whisper his next question into her ear. “And speaking of wet clothes, why don’t we go inside and get out of them?”
Desire flared in her eyes. “I could go for that.”
They swam over to the ladder and climbed out of the lake, receiving their fair share of heckling as they made their way down the dock and past the party. A crowd of women surrounded the stairs up the porch, and just as they pushed their way through them, a bouquet of roses came flying through the air toward Chelsea.
She reached up to grab it, much to the dismay of the women around her.
Lisa turned around and laughed when she saw who had caught her bouquet. “Ha! I knew it!”
“Looks like we know who’s getting hitched next,” Bubba teased from beside his wife on the front porch. “I’m tossing the garter in a minute. Care to take your chances with it, Hunter?”
“No.” All he cared about was getting naked in bed with the woman beside him. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
More heckling followed, but when they reached her bedroom, it all faded away. They could talk about things like weddings and the future later. Right now, all he needed was right there in his arms.
She turned around and asked him to help her with the zipper, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and softly say what he’d been wanting to say all these years. “I love you, Chelsea Warner. I always have.”
Her breath caught, and for one agonizing second, he worried he might’ve said too much. But she turned around, her blue eyes shining with an emotion he’d only dreamed of seeing there before now. “And I’m falling more and more in love with you.”
Hunter had once read that silence was the most perfect herald of joy, which could only explain why he found himself tongue-tied again. But he knew the most perfect response to her declaration. A kiss that would be the promise of many more to come.
Bio
Growing up in small town Alabama, Crista relied on storytelling as a natural way for her to pass the time and keep her two younger sisters entertained.
She currently lives in the Audi-filled suburbs of Seattle with her husband and two children, maintaining her alter ego of mild-mannered physician by day while she continues to pursue writing on nights and weekends.
Just for laughs, here are some of the jobs she’s had in the past to pay the bills: barista, bartender, sommelier, stagehand, actress, morgue attendant, and autopsy assistant.
And she’s also a recovering LARPer. (She blames it on her crazy college days)
For the latest updates, deleted scenes, and answers to any burning questions you have, please check out her webpage, www.CristaMcHugh.com.
Sign up for Crista’s 99c New Release Newsletter at http://bit.ly/19EJAW8
Find Crista online at:
Twitter: twitter.com/crista_mchugh
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Books by Crista McHugh
The Kelly Brothers
The Sweetest Seduction, Book 1
Breakaway Hearts, Book 2
Falling for the Wingman, Book 3
The Heart’s Game, Book 4
A Seductive Melody, Book 5
In The Red Zone, Book 6
Here All Al
ong, Book 7 (Aug 2015)
Good Cop
Heroes of Henderson ~ Book 1
by
Liz Kelly
Prologue
Brooks Bennett ran a hand through his short copper curls and blew out a long breath as he studied his surroundings. Their favorite college haunt seemed smaller and dingier, though the same stale smells of cooking grease and spilled beer lingered. They’d celebrated their College World Series win right here almost seven years ago. Seven years. Fucking A.
“Hey, Third Base,” he said, his mouth pulling into a broad grin. He hadn’t called his buddy that in years. Vance Evans’ expression also showed a little oomph for the first time in days at hearing the nickname. He stopped picking at the label on his long-neck bottle and started looking around.
“We had a hell of a run. State champs in high school. World Series champs here.” He tilted the bottle to his lips.
“That we did,” Brooks agreed.
“Though, I gotta tell ya,” Vance said, shaking his head. “The team we’ve put on the field this year? They would have handed us our jocks.”
Brooks laughed. “It’s true. I know it’s true, but please don’t tell them that. We’ll lose complete control.”
“Are you kidding me?” He squinted his eyes and twisted his mouth. “No way would I ever admit that. I parade them by our State Championship trophy every damn day.” He smiled then and leaned forward, tapping his finger on the table between them. “But it is damn good fun being their coach.”
“That’s good, since you’re not much of a cop,” Brooks teased.
“Fuck you,” Vance said good-naturedly and then sat up straight and scowled when he heard their long-lost fraternity brother, Duncan James, hailing the bartender. “Show time.”
Brooks appreciated the irritation he saw in Vance’s eyes, though he wasn’t convinced driving an hour into Raleigh and staging an ambush was the smartest way to handle this. But since the college kids were spring-breaking their asses off in Florida or wherever they went these days, the bar was quiet. Maybe the three of them could calmly talk this out.
“Hey, y’all. Sorry I’m late,” Duncan said, sliding into the booth next to Brooks. He wore his big-deal-lawyer suit more comfortably than a pair of jeans. “The call I’d been waiting for all day came in just as I was about to leave. Had to take it.”
“Y’all? When the hell did you start sayin’ ‘y’all’?” Vance asked.
“Did I? Must be from hanging around you rednecks too long.” Duncan glanced at a menu before setting it aside. He took a deep breath and blew it out as he looked at his best friends. “God, it’s good to see you guys. How the hell are you?”
Brooks and Vance exchanged a look before casting their disgruntled expressions on Duncan.
“We’re bent,” Vance told him.
Raising an eyebrow, Duncan sat back and eyed his buddies again. “Never one to mince words,” he said, and nodded to Vance. “What’s going on?”
“Annabelle Devine is what’s going on.”
“Annabelle?”
“Christ, Dunc, it’s the end of March. The last time we saw you was New Year’s Day.”
Duncan’s mouth hung open for a moment, and then he snapped it shut. “You do recall that it was the two of you who introduced me to Miss Devine, right? On New Year’s Eve?”
“We didn’t introduce you. She was the target of our damn bet.”
“A bet where I came out on top, in more ways than one.”
“Clearly,” Vance scoffed. “And since you’ve hooked up with our infamous ‘Keeper of the Debutantes,’ you haven’t been back to Henderson for one poker night. We can’t get you on the phone unless we call your office. For God’s sake, we even had to beg you to fill out your NCAA bracket.”
Duncan turned wide eyes to Brooks. “Is this for real?”
Brooks clenched his jaw.
“Oh, you too, huh?” Duncan looked back at Vance. “I neglect you two for a few weeks and you drive into town to, what? Stage an intervention?”
“We’re just here to save you from yourself, bro.”
Duncan laughed at that, and Brooks watched Vance’s temper spike. Luckily they were interrupted by the waiter.
“Three more beers, three shots of tequila, three bacon cheeseburgers medium-rare, two with onion rings, one with fries, and bring some extra pickles, if you don’t mind,” Duncan ordered. He handed the menus to the waiter and folded his arms across his chest. When the waiter was out of earshot, Duncan cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“You two are closer to me than my own brother,” Duncan said in a low, no-nonsense growl. “But I am warning you one time and one time only. Tread lightly when it comes to Annabelle. If you have a problem with me, it’s on me. You do not now, nor will you ever, find fault with Annabelle Devine.”
Dead silence.
“We clear?”
“Clear,” Books mumbled along with Vance, each taking a sip of beer to dilute the tension at the table.
The beverages arrived before any of them could find another word. Together they upended the shots and chased them with their beers. Silence fell again while Duncan smoothed his hands over the rough table surface.
“I apologize. Not for blowing you two rednecks off while I spend time with Annabelle, but for not keeping you in the loop. I guess I just assumed….” His voice trailed off.
“That we would figure it out,” Brooks finished for him, starting to feel like a real idiot.
Vance slapped his hand on the table throwing Brooks a ‘come on, man’ look. “Really?” he said. “You’re going to let him off that easy?”
Duncan grabbed Vance’s arm and shoved it off the table. “Look, asshole. What the hell do you expect? The three of us are pushing thirty. For all your talk over the years about raising your families in your hometown, you had to expect there would come a time when women would actually be part of that equation. Well, I’ve found mine, and I’m ready to move forward. So if that means missing a few poker nights while I’m trying to seal the deal with Miss Devine, from Henderson, I might add, I expect the two of you to suck it up and act happy for me. I mean, Jesus H. Christ! Did you think the three of us were going to adopt kids and raise them together?”
Brooks shook his head, feeling every bit the self-important, spoiled child he was. But he almost laughed when he noticed the expression on Vance’s face. There was shock, yes. But also a dawning awareness, as if Vance hadn’t considered he’d eventually have to find a mate.
Brooks reached out and tapped the table in front of Vance. “Hey. Third Base. You okay?”
Vance shook his dark head like a wet dog and snapped out of his stupor. “Holy shit!” he said, looking between Brooks and Duncan, starting to laugh. “Are we really almost thirty?”
“’Fraid so,” Duncan assured him as heaping platters of burgers, fries, and onion rings were set in front of them.
Vance picked up his beer and saluted Brooks. “Then it’s time.”
“Time?”
“Time to do what he’s doing.” Vance pointed his beer at Duncan. “Because we have plans. Big plans.”
Brooks looked up from his plate and into Vance’s eyes. “We’re not thirty yet.”
“What plans?” Duncan asked.
“You know! Our plans. Get Brooks elected mayor,” Vance said, setting down his beer and ticking off his fingers one by one. “Institute our economic plan to bring new businesses and services to Henderson.”
“Which will hopefully stop the mass exodus of young people leaving town,” Brooks interjected. “Like our buddy Lewis who has taken his big brain and multi-million dollar App-designing business right up to fucking New York City.”
“And like your Annabelle,” Vance said. “There is no reason she can’t travel from Henderson to do her job taking care of sorority girls up and down the East Coast.”
“Except that I live in Raleigh,” Duncan protested. “I want her to live in Raleigh.”
“You don’t
know what you want!” Vance insisted. “What you want is to move your own Richmond-raised ass out of Raleigh and into Henderson because once Brooks and I start these plans, the town is going to need a good business attorney, fast. You’ll have more business than you can handle. What you want is to open your own damn firm in Henderson and be your own damn boss.”
Duncan turned his head toward Brooks. “Well, thank God somebody knows what I want.”
“Then,” Vance continued as if Duncan hadn’t just made a joke, “as Henderson begins to develop, you join Brooks and me in our campaign to get it listed as one of ‘America’s Best Places to Live.’ All this while settling down and having enough kids between us to field a baseball team.”
“Those are some big plans,” Duncan chuckled.
“That’s how we roll,” Vance said as he reached for the ketchup. Then he nodded toward Brooks. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Brooks nodded, having already taken a bite of his two-fisted burger.
“We need to find ourselves a woman,” Vance said, right before he bit off far more than he could chew.
Chapter One
Lolly DuVal had not been back inside Henderson High School since the day she graduated five years ago, and she certainly hadn’t ever set foot in the boys’ locker room. But it was a Saturday in late May, classes had been dismissed for the summer, and she had an appointment with the boys’ varsity baseball coach. So here she was, hobbling around on her sore feet, nervously entering forbidden territory, searching for a door labeled ‘Training Room.’
Ordering herself not to be tentative, she gave a good rap on the door and was relieved to hear a voice from inside calling for her to enter. Coach Evans, his back to her stood up from a desk shoved against the wall between the training tables and weight machines and turned in greeting, smiling enthusiastically as his eyes registered her appearance.
Summer on Main Street Page 9
