Money Hungry

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by Sloane West


  And, in doing so, she’d given up on the two people who loved her the most.

  She looked up at Wayne. “Is Jen . . . okay?”

  His expression was a cross between sad and hopeful. “Things were bad for a while, I ain’t gonna lie, but she’s better now. She’s in a rehab program in Columbus. Sober for thirty days.” He sighed, tucking a wayward strand of Amy’s hair. “I just hope it sticks this time.”

  Amy thought about Christina and understood how difficult Jen’s battle would be. It was a battle that she’d likely fight her entire life. Grief plagued Amy. Grief for the years they’d lost. For their trio of broken hearts. For the mistakes she’d made. So many mistakes.

  As if seeing Wayne for the first time, she touched his jaw, his stubble rasping her fingertips. He let out a breath and covered her hand with his own. “I’m sorry, Wayne,” she whispered. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve trusted her.”

  Looking back, she didn’t know exactly why she’d gone from zero to crazy like she had. Maybe it had something to do with being raised by a hopelessly incapable mom. A mom whose life had been a series of rushed-into relationships that inevitably dissolved into varying degrees of adultery and abuse. Or maybe Amy had simply seen something that would’ve caused any woman to assume the worst. Either way, she was tired of hating Wayne. Of hating Jen. Tired of holding open old wounds that wanted desperately to close.

  “You should’ve,” he agreed. “But it’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.”

  She searched his face, wanting so much to do just that. But was it even possible? Could they start over? Or had the damage been done?

  “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on her eyebrow. “I’m thinking . . . on the table?” He kissed her cheek. “Or maybe the floor?” He kissed her jaw. “There’s a comfy chair in the office.”

  Despite her uncertainty, she couldn’t help but smile. God, this was the man she missed. The man she loved. He was shameless, and he could somehow make her blush even though he’d seen every inch of her naked. “You’re a pig,” she said, gasping as he licked his way up her throat to her ear.

  “Guilty,” he agreed. His kisses reversed direction until he reached the corner of her mouth, where he paused, his lips hovering. Waiting. “Let me kiss you, Amy.”

  She wanted to remind him that he had been kissing her, but she was too breathless to speak. When she’d woken up this morning, being kissed by Wayne Colby had been the last thing she expected. That she’d even spoken to him period was incredible enough. The angry, over-the-exam-table sex? That was Twilight Zone territory. But a kiss, mouth to mouth, from the man she’d loved and lost was somehow more intimate. It would be more than just a kiss. It would change her life. If she let him in, there would be no turning back. Forgiving him would become real. So would forgiving Jen. And it was easier to hide behind the past. Safer. Trusting them again meant leaving herself defenseless, and that scared the hell out of her.

  On the other hand, safe was overrated. So was stubbornness and guilt. He was right. The past was just that—the past. And she didn’t want to live there anymore.

  She gazed at him, taking in his mussed blond hair and his blue eyes and his sweet, familiar, beautiful mouth. “Kiss me.”

  And he did.

  It was everything she’d known it would be, and she lost herself in it. Grabbing, pulling, needing. He groaned as if finally allowed to have what he’d been denied for far too long. It was so overwhelmingly right that she nearly wept. He gathered her up, his lips desperate for hers, and she wrapped her legs around him, the exam table wobbling as he used it for support. He licked into her mouth. Claimed it. Devoured it. And she surrendered to him without a fight. Come what may, her fighting days were done. Hope swept through her, washing away any lingering doubt. Their future wasn’t certain, but their present was, and, God, she wanted him. She wanted his body. His love. His forgiveness.

  “Wayne,” she breathed as he dragged his mouth down her throat and then . . . lower. “Please.”

  Though she didn’t know just what she begged for, he did, and he gave it to her right there on the exam table.

  And this time, it wasn’t about revenge or money. It was about coming home.

  Epilogue

  Amy held Wayne’s hand as she looked up at the sign above the door. Healing Hearts Recovery Center. The two-story brick building was warm and welcoming with tidy landscaping and artfully arranged potted flowers. A curling wrought-iron railing braced either side of the concrete steps, and a ginger cat snoozed atop a bench in the garden. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she would’ve walked over to pet the sleeping feline. As it was, she could barely keep from bolting.

  It had been two weeks since that day at the clinic, and her wounded heart had already begun to heal. She and Wayne had talked for hours, ordered pizzas, made love, and kissed so often her lips were sore. And each time Wayne made her laugh, she became a little more confident that things were, indeed, going to be okay. That it was possible to repair what had been broken.

  Which was why they were here today.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked him for the sixty-seventh time.

  “All my ideas are good ideas,” he assured her with a grin.

  When she remained unimpressed, he grew serious and said, “You need this, Amy. Both of you do. Trust me.”

  Staring into his blue eyes, she marveled at how much things had changed. A month ago, trusting him would’ve seemed absurd. Laughable even. Now? It was as natural to her as breathing. He’d never betrayed her, and neither had Jen. It had been a misunderstanding of epic proportions, and it was up to Amy to make things right.

  She gazed at the building. “How will she ever forgive me? I abandoned her when she needed me most.”

  “She’ll forgive you,” he insisted, tugging Amy up the steps. “She’ll understand. Come on.”

  Inside, a clean, tidy waiting room that looked very much like a cozy den waited. Wine-colored leather chairs sat around a fireplace, and soft, nubby throws draped their backs. A rug woven in warm reds and golds covered the hardwood floor, and a stack of books graced the coffee table. A receptionist sat behind a desk to their right, and she glanced up with a smile as they approached.

  “Hi, Wayne,” the receptionist greeted him, beaming. And blushing. The petite redhead was obviously enamored with him, and who could blame her? Even so, Amy stepped a little closer to him. The receptionist noticed and, to her credit, seemed crestfallen but smiled politely, asking, “Are you a friend of Jen’s?”

  Amy hesitated. “I . . .”

  Wayne offered the receptionist one of his characteristic smiles. “Hey, Brittany. Amy is a friend.”

  Brittany nodded and cast a longing glance at him before sliding a clipboard across the desk. “Go ahead and sign in for me.”

  They did, and Amy’s hand shook as she scrawled her signature. When she and Wayne straightened, Brittany took back the clipboard and gestured with her chin toward the hall to Amy’s left. “They should just be getting out of yoga class.”

  “Thanks,” Wayne said and pulled Amy in that direction.

  Amy laughed a little, her eyebrows raising. “Jen doing yoga?”

  She tried to imagine her former friend getting her downward dog on and couldn’t. The only exercise Amy had ever known Jen to do was bar hopping and not in the gymnastic sense. But, as Amy well knew, a lot could change in six years.

  Wayne chuckled. “Strange, I know. But she loves it. This place has been good for her.”

  Amy gazed around with renewed interest. If Healing Hearts Recovery Center could turn her wayward, party-girl best friend into a yogi, perhaps it could help Christina, too. The thought filled Amy with hesitant hope as they turned down another hall. A few steps later, Wayne drew her to a stop at a set of closed French doors. Amy peered through the glass and saw a spacious, open room brightly lit from a wall of windows on the opposite side. Abo
ut twenty yoga mats lined the hardwood floor in neat rows, and women sat on them in cross-legged positions. At the front of the room, with her back turned to Wayne and Amy, sat another woman, her gray hair a mass of dreadlocks piled atop her head. Her hands were held in prayer, and she was murmuring something to her unlikely students.

  Amy’s heart skipped a beat as she searched the crowd for Jen. How this would play out was anyone’s guess. Would Jen refuse to see her? Would she scream at her? Hate her? A million scenarios flitted through Amy’s head until her gaze landed on a tall, slender blonde seated near the back. Though she’d lost her signature smoky eye and bold red lipstick, Jen was unmistakable. She looked older now. More tired. But she also looked . . . peaceful. She listened to the instructor with closed eyes, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

  Tears bit Amy’s eyes. She’d built up so much resentment and bitterness that she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed her best friend. Her troubled, messy, wild best friend. Looking at her now, memories of all the good times they’d had, all the storms they’d weathered, came rushing back, and she couldn’t believe she’d let their grudge go on as long as she had.

  Sensing Amy’s emotional overload, Wayne put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, watching as the instructor finally rose and signaled the class to do the same.

  The students obeyed and bowed in unison before rolling up their mats and gathering their various water bottles and towels, chatting with each other as they made their way toward the exit.

  Wayne and Amy stepped back as the doors opened. Women from all walks of life filtered into the hall. Some looked refreshed, while others looked haggard and dark around the eyes as if they were just beginning their sobriety journey. Jen was talking to another girl and didn’t immediately notice Amy and Wayne. Jen laughed at something the girl said, and it sounded as hearty and carefree as Amy remembered.

  Amy stepped forward hesitantly. “Jen.”

  Jen glanced over and froze. Their eyes met and, for a long moment, neither moved or spoke. The flow of women dissipated as they all went their separate ways, leaving the hall quiet save the sound of soft, melodic music wafting from the yoga studio. Amy’s heart pounded as she waited for Jen’s reaction.

  Jen was the first to speak. She looked uncertain, as if she didn’t know what to expect, either. “Amy?”

  Amy wasn’t sure whether to hug her or run. “Yeah . . . hey.”

  Jen stared at her for so long that Amy was certain she would storm off, but then Jen’s eyes filled with tears, and she dropped her yoga mat, rushing forward. “Oh my God, Amy.”

  They hugged in a flurry of breathless, teary laughter.

  “I’m so sorry,” Amy said immediately. “I didn’t know. When I saw you that night, I thought—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jen interrupted, squeezing her. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

  The surge of joy was overwhelming. Amy had spent the last six years in survival mode, building up her armor and walling in her heart. Hiding from the ghosts of her past. But her ghosts hadn’t been real, and they wouldn’t be haunting her anymore. Her life wasn’t perfect, of course. She still had a crummy job. Her overdue bills were still mounting. And her sister was still a spiraling drug addict. But despite all that, Amy’s torn life was knitting itself back together stitch by stitch. And, this time, she held the needle.

  When Jen finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shimmered. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Amy said and meant it.

  Jen turned to Wayne, who watched them with quiet satisfaction. “Are you responsible for this?”

  Looking far too pleased with himself, he shrugged. “I thought about curing cancer instead, but I figured it could wait until tomorrow.”

  Amy laughed. Jen shook her head but couldn’t hold back a grin. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah,” Amy added, gazing at him, her heart so full it could burst. If it hadn’t been for Wayne forcing her to take off her hurt-colored glasses and see how things really were, she wouldn’t be here right now with the two of them. Happy. Loved. Free. “Thanks.”

  Wayne gazed back at Amy. “Anything for you.”

  Jen rolled her eyes and retrieved her yoga mat. “God, I forgot how disgustingly in love you two always were,” she said, grabbing Amy’s hand. “Come on. There’s a café in the building. We have so much to catch up on, girlfriend.”

  Laughing, Amy let her take the lead, the act so automatic and comforting that she had to hold back happy tears. As Jen launched into how she was considering turning lesbian because she was so done with men, Wayne caught up with them and took Amy’s other hand. She almost didn’t notice when he slid something on her left ring finger. Glancing down, she gasped.

  It was her engagement ring.

  The slender gold band set with a single diamond wasn’t fancy. It was simple and understated, but it glittered on her finger as if it was ten karats and not just a third of one. She remembered the day she’d taken it off and shoved it in an envelope scribbled with Wayne’s name and address. She’d sat in her car for an hour at the post office before she could bring herself to take it inside.

  She’d cried all the way home.

  Staring at it now, she couldn’t believe he’d kept it.

  Or that he’d just put it back on her finger.

  Still following Jen, Amy looked up at Wayne in shock, her heart fluttering. Did this mean he still wanted to marry her? After everything?

  He winked at her, his eyes sparkling. “It’s not the fifty dollars we agreed on, but it’ll have to do.”

  She recalled the deal they’d made the day she’d shown up on his doorstep fit to be tied and out for revenge. Grinning, she glanced at the ring again, knowing that what it represented was worth so much more than all the money in the world. “I don’t know,” she said. “A deal is a deal.”

  He let out a low whistle and tried to look appalled. “Who knew you were so money hungry.”

  It was her turn to shrug. “A girl’s gotta survive. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, you know.”

  Tightening his grip on her hand as if making sure the ring stayed put this time, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Later, I’ll show you just how true that last part is, baby.”

  A blush spread into her cheeks even as her laugh rang out into the hall, causing Jen to pause and look back at them quizzically. “What’s so funny?”

  Amy gazed at them both, so light inside she wondered if she would float away. It had been a long, hard road, but she’d finally reached the end of it. Or, depending on how you looked at it, the beginning.

  “I’ll tell you later,” she said. “But first, I want to hear all about you becoming a lesbian.”

  Jen winked. Wayne shook his head. Amy grinned. And, together, they carried on. As they walked hand in hand, talking over each other and laughing obnoxiously loud, Amy wondered what was to come and, for the first time in a long time, she looked forward to it.

  Thank you for reading Money Hungry! I hope this second-chance-romance morsel satisfied your sweet tooth! Please consider leaving a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads! Don’t know how to write reviews? Don’t worry! Just a simple “I loved/hated it!” will do! And it will mean the world to me. If you adored Amy and Wayne’s story and want even more, I’ve written a free bonus extended epilogue! The epilogue is for newsletter subscribers only, so if you want to gobble it up, you can subscribe here:

  Sloane West's Newsletter

  As a bonus bonus, I’ve also recorded a podcast just for Money Hungry! In it, I tell you a bit about myself, answer reader questions about the story, and drop hints about the next novelette in the series, Show Me the Money. (Written transcriptions of all podcasts are available for the hearing impaired.) Listen to the podcast here:

  Money Hungry Podcast

  Want more? Continue the Money Hungry Series with Show Me the Money!

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sloane West is the coffee-guzzling, chocolate-gobbling, cat-loving redhead behind the Money Hungry Series. She writes short, sexy, and crave-worthy stories that warm the heart and melt the panties. When not penning tempting tales, she can be found hunched over a jigsaw puzzle or hiking off that third (fourth) (c'mon, probably fifth) slice of pizza. You can find Sloane on her website at www.sloanewest.com or on Facebook.

  ALSO BY SLOANE WEST

  The Money Hungry Series

  Money Hungry

  Show Me the Money

  Table of Contents

  Note from the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Bonus Stuff

  Continue the Series

  About the Author

  Other Books

 

 

 


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