All & Nothing (The Broadway Series Book 1)

by Allie York

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  All & Nothing

  Allie York

  Copyright © 2018 by Allie York

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Formatting: AB Formatting

  To my husband for keeping my kids busy and bringing me coffee.

  Contents

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Jovie

  I nibbled my lip, trying to determine my next move, fighting to keep my lips from twitching into a smile. A smile would give me away. Lydia was doing the same thing, but failing miserably. Dad yelled something at the dirty liberals on TV, and the four of us giggled. Finally, I laid my cards down and crossed my arms. Take that, bitches. My arrogance came too soon, and Reese slapped her cards down, throwing her hands in the air. Her four nines beat my flush. Mom and Lydia groaned when Reese scraped the quarters to her side of the table. It was not my night, unfortunately. Between working until four, the party my mom hosted for her great niece, and losing yet another round, I was ready to go home. Lydia yawned, making me yawn, and we laughed again. Poker on Saturday evenings was our thing. Dad and my nephew, Oliver, went to the skate park for Ollie to goof off and the girls played poker and got sloshed. Reese poured another glass for each of us and dealt again. I lost again, but I usually did. It was mostly shit luck, but also the fact that I had zero card skills. I could do many things, but poker was not my strong point.

  “So, I went on a date.” Reese looked up from her cards and her pale-blue eyes waited to take in our reactions. Reese had that classic beauty going on. Long, thick, blond hair hanging to her waist and a cute petite frame. Mom nearly jumped from her seat at my little sister’s words. “It was actually our fourth date.”

  “Whore, tell us details.” I tossed back the last of my wine and folded my hand. Mom chastised my foul mouth but I ignored her. Our mother was such a prude. My sisters and I had the worst luck with men. Lydia had Ollie, but after twelve years, still refused to tell us who his father was. I had one failed marriage under my belt by the time I reached twenty-one, and Reese couldn’t seem to find any guy that wasn’t a complete ass.

  “His name is Julian, and we work together. He’s the bartender who worked at the Archer’s that burned down.” Reese shrugged, like she wasn’t delivering juicy news, and sipped her wine. Reese had been a waitress at Archer’s for four years and was way better at it than I could ever be. “He asked me to dinner, and I accepted. Then we went again.” My Grams snored loudly from the couch, and we giggled again. Our Grams rarely made it past dinner and always fell asleep sitting up on the couch.

  Lydia tousled her reddish waves. “So, you have seen us several times since the dating thing started and decided to keep it a secret?” Reese rolled her eyes, tipping her head to indicate our mother. Mom was overbearing to say the least. She welcomed anyone and everyone into the family, but did it in the worst way possible. Mom felt the best way was to give everyone the full-immersion experience by inviting the entire family over for a meet-and-greet. The entire family included my mother’s six siblings and my seventeen cousins. I really couldn’t blame Reese for keeping her lips sealed. We nagged her for details until Oliver fell asleep on the couch with Grams, making Lydia decide to get him home. Reese lived there, so she retired to her apartment downstairs, and Mom allowed me to leave. Since she retired, our presence was demanded more and more. Mom had hobbies but loved having us around to entertain her while Dad traveled to run his bed and breakfast in middle Tennessee.

  Late March meant windows were down today, but possible monsoon or snow the following day. Tennessee weather was fickle, to say the least. I took full advantage of the warmth with my Accord windows down and my radio up. I was off the next day and would have some new books waiting in my mailbox when I got home. The following day would be spent on the patio of my favorite coffee shop with the dog and a book. Or three books. I thought about writing something new, but hadn’t come up with new ideas in over a year. Well, nothing worth a shit. Not since my first book was published. It hadn’t done great, the book was mediocre, but I still got bragging rights and my mom acted almost proud of my accomplishment for once. That alone was worth it.

  Merlin was waiting at the door when I got to the condo. It blew my mind how the crazy dog knew I was coming, despite being deaf. His nub tail made him wag his whole body when I walked in and his long hair brushed the floor wildly. God, he was pretty. I dropped my bag and hooked him to his leash. We walked briskly down the sidewalk, sniffing everything and taking in the spring gardens blooming in front of the Victorian homes. The streetlights came on halfway through the walk, giving off an orange glow as our quick pace slowed to an amble. It was the best part of my day. Silence, Merlin, and some light exercise made the tension in my body from the party dissipate. It was my favorite neighborhood in town. Everything about it was clean and modern, but had the charm of an older time. Just my style. Nothing really made me as happy as a long walk with my best four-legged friend.

  When a crazed, curly-coated dog came barreling toward us, leash dragging behind it, I tugged Merlin to a stop and he sat obediently next to me. The black and white dog hurled himself into me, making me stumble back before sniffing every inch of Merlin. Then the footsteps and ragged breathing came.

  “Clark, stop.” The guy came screaming toward us with a British accent that made me perk up. I took Clark’s leash in my hand and held him still, waiting for the guy to retrieve his bouncing ball of hair.

  Chapter Two

  Ewan

  It was too nice a day to do what I was doing. It was too nice a day to be as utterly pissed off as I was, but the anger was there, and in full force. I should have been lounging on the hammock, relaxing and having a beer. I glared at Amelia’s demon-possessed dog through the glass French doors in my kitchen, watching him gnaw on the bone I was finally smart enough to give him. I spun on my heels, unable to look at him anymore, and went back to the scene of the crime. The fucking dog had eaten the carpet. The carpet. I Googled what to do—about the dog, not the carpet. I would pull it up and finally polish the hardwood underneath. Walk him more, give him things t
o do, take him for meaningful trips to the dog park. It all sounded great, but I didn’t even want him. I had no desire to take in more responsibility when I already had Amelia. Then my phone rang, adding insult to injury, I answered my father’s call. His thick Irish accent made me grit my teeth. He gave me the rundown of dropping Amelia off the following morning, making his promise of, “I willna bovver ya”. His existence bothered me, but I let Ams make her own choices where our father was concerned. Amelia barely remembered, so I couldn’t fault her for wanting a relationship with him. The fear of her deciding to leave me slithered into my thoughts, but I shoved it out. He couldn’t take care of her even if he wanted to. I had to give her money to last all of Spring Break with him. No one worth a damn would hire a murderer.

  I went back to watching Clark outside, tossing his bone down the steps and dragging it back up. The dog was an idiot. I relented to washing the car, since I couldn’t very well fix the carpet on a Saturday without some help and some supplies. Saturdays without Amelia were insufferable, boring, and lonely. I was obviously putting too much reliance on my little sister. When my phone rang again, I was relieved to see Scott’s name instead of my father’s; he called every Saturday, but usually waited until later. I should have asked him to dinner, but he would want me to drive out west, and that sounded daunting. I answered, and the conversation quickly went from pleasantries to Chelsea is pregnant, again. I congratulated them whole-heartedly. Three beautiful kids. The man was a lucky bastard. Chelsea was beautiful and kind and an amazing mother. She kept the household running smoothly and put every ounce of energy into her family. I talked with Scott while I cleaned the dust from my dash and bagged Amelia’s drink cans. Scott casually mentioned the new secretary at his office and how cute Amanda was. No thank you. The last one he set me up with was a disaster, and I nearly married the woman.

  Darcy was so typical of Americans. Vapid and self-absorbed didn’t scratch the surface. She found out where I worked and kept casually showing up, then she found out my salary and it got worse. I finally took her out and fell in love, or lust, instantly. Darcy made me promises of all the things I wanted, but Amelia saw through her immediately. I was blind. Or stupid. Once Darcy ended it by making a scene at the restaurant, it all became clear. I should have known better, but it was one of my many flaws. Darcy wanted my money and nothing more. It was clear from the beginning, once the rose-colored glasses were gone. The insults to my masculinity were the worst. “Ew, what kind of man needs to cuddle after sex?” was one of her favorites. “Man up” was another. Since that relationship ended, I swore off women. It wasn’t worth getting hurt or being asked to choose between my happiness and my responsibility to Amelia. I shook my head and dropped onto the porch swing to finish listening to Scott talk about Amanda and her killer ass. At least he knew what I liked.

  The car was clean, the carpet would mean taking a personal day on Monday, and my best mate was trying to hook me up again. It was shaping up to a nice day. I flipped through the channels without paying attention until I found The Maltese Falcon. That was a movie I could get caught up in. A while later, the movie was over, my microwave dinner was gone, and I was itching to get out of the house. The leash was hanging by the door, and Clark stared in through the door, whimpering lightly. I rolled my eyes in true Amelia fashion and let in the idiotic dog. He was hooked to the leash and we were out the door with him jerking me in every direction. We hadn’t even made it to the mailbox before the leash was pulled from my hand and the hard plastic was bouncing behind him as he bolted down the street. I growled a series of curses worthy of making a sailor blush and took off in a run after him, screaming his name. Once I caught him, his slow painful death was inevitable. I would kill him and relish every second of it. I lost sight of him as I rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. I spotted him as he ran full-force into someone walking their dog and panicked. It wouldn’t be the first person my idiot dog leveled on a walk.

  I took off as fast as I could, yelling at him, only to find the woman holding his leash with a very pissed off expression. I let her place the leash in my hand, doubling over to catch my breath and being assaulted by my own stupid animal. Her sheepdog stood still by her side in statuesque annoyance. I apologized, asking if he had knocked her over, to which she responded with a curt, “No.” The woman held out a card. Fantastic. My horrid beast had run into a dog trainer. A very lovely dog trainer. I bent down to pet her dog, talking to him in the same voice I used when I liked Clark.

  “He’s deaf.” I gripped Clark’s leash harder at her droll tone. Of course her deaf dog behaved like a saint. I pulled my attention back to her, catching her gaze. She still held her pissed expression but her eyes were soft, and beautiful. The woman suddenly let out an exhausted breath and moved to Clark, who I forgot was even there, despite him trying to rip my arm out of the socket. She snatched Clark’s collar and switched our dog’s leashes. I was handed the retractable lead that was attached to her dog and she looped her dog’s lead around mine, creating a harness. The jerking stopped instantly. She took her dog back, handing me mine, and threw me a very rude, “You’re welcome.” And started walking away, giving her dog a signal to follow her. I watched her walk for a moment, appreciating the view, before I ran after her.

  “Wait! Any more tips?” The woman was obviously magic, but also very attractive, and I found myself not wanting her to leave. She stopped short.

  “Do you do your job for free?” Her distinct Southern drawl made me smile and her daring look eased slightly. I told her about my volunteer work at the YMCA and extended my hand, introducing myself. She groaned, “Jovie.” Her eye roll was almost as perfected as Amelia’s.

  Jovie was a Greek name but the woman was not Greek. She had light-brown hair and blue eyes, definitely not Greek. I noted the purple nails on her soft hands when she shook mine. Jovie looked conflicted as to whether she was going to help me or not and I studied her appearance. Her purple hoodie was at least a size too big, but her constellation leggings fit perfectly and her ass was brilliant. The freckles scattered over her nose and under her eyes made me stare a little too long as I begged for her help, promising to actually pay for her services come Monday. Jovie relented and fell into a rehearsed speech on training and staying consistent. I watched her walk Clark down the sidewalk, then her dog, Merlin, showing me how to handle the pulling and forcing him to pay attention to her when his short attention span wavered. When she handed me the lead, I followed her example, walking Clark back and forth. The arrogant look on her face when the dog walked with me toward her was adorable. The woman was good at her job.

  I thanked her profusely, struggling with the urge to hug her, but settled fot simply shaking her hand again. I reinforced my promise to call her shop and she giggled—it was complete with a nose wrinkle, but cute enough to make my chest stir. I laughed, thanking her again, as her hand slid slowly from mine. I nearly asked Jovie to dinner, to thank her for the free lesson, but she would have turned me down. I walked away first, but turned back in time to see her stop and look down at her dog. Her flippant attitude was highly amusing, and I felt drawn to her. I turned back toward home, finding it much easier to walk my dog, and finding comfort in the fact that I would get to speak with her again. Saturdays were insanely boring, but Jovie had made my evening.

  Clark and I got settledt in the car and drove to the pet store to buy him his own leash. We also got toys and a crate complete with a plush bed they advertised as being indestructible. Clark watched me through the glass door while I moved the small table in our breakfast nook to make room for his crate. The assembly process was much more complex than expected, but by the time I needed to go to bed, it was put together and Clark was happily chewing a rubber toy filled with peanut butter. A religious man would have thanked one of the gods, but I thanked Jovie. Amelia had a stack of books on the table that I delivered to her room before lying down in my giant bed. My giant empty bed. At least Amelia would be
back the following day, and my week alone would be over. I was really not the kind of man meant to be alone.

  I was adding the cream to my coffee the following morning when I heard the car door. The visions of that night came flooding back as I visualized him helping her gather her things to bring in. His voice, his face, his presence—they were all painful reminders of what he had done, of her being gone. Amelia threw the door openand ran past the stairs, flying into my arms. I hugged her, lifting her off the ground and breathing her in. Our father lingered near the door until I motioned for him to come in with her bags. “Did you have a good time?” Amelia nodded, pulling out her phone to show me all the pictures she had taken.

  “Be talking to you soon, Amie.” My father dipped his gray-streaked head to bow out gracefully. At least he learned his lesson about trying to pry conversation out of me. Amelia elbowed me, glaring. I huffed at her before I jogged after him, touching his shoulder as I caught him by the old truck he was driving.

  “How are ya?” I was pulled into a hug that I returned reluctantly.

  “Doing fine. Thank you for bringing her back.” I really had nothing to say.

  Our father smiled. “Thank ya for letting me take her for the week. Hope I showed her a good time,” He nodded once and climbed into the truck. I knew Amelia was on the porch watching us, so I waved as he pulled off. She was beaming when I turned back. I sat with her on the swing, letting her show me the rest of the pictures she took. They did have a good time. Movies and mini-golf filled the week as well as the indoor pool at his apartment building.