by Mj Fields
Contents
Blue Love Playlist
Blurb
To The Reader
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 Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Books by MJ Fields
About the Author
Thank you
Copyright © 2021 by MJ Fields
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Blue Love Playlist
I’m In A Hurry- Alabama
Hey Jealousy- Gin Blossoms
Runaway Train- Soul Asylum
I’ll Never Get Over You - Exposé
Cryiń- Aerosmith
Falling In Love With You- UB40
Even Flow - Pearl Jam
Here I Am - Russ Taff
Rain - Madonna
Dreamlover - Mariah Carey
What’s Up? - 4 Non Blondes
Love Song - Tesla
Better Man - Pearl Jam
She Doesn’t Know She’s Beautiful- Sammy Kershaw
Lightning Crashes- Live
Black - Pearl Jam
Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong- Spin Doctors
What You Give - Tesla
I’m Not Alone- Russ Taff
Love Me Anyway - P!nk
Piece of My Heart- Janice Joplin
Any Man Of Mine- Shania Twain
Don’t Go Breaking My Heart- Elton Jon
I Love Rock Ń Roll - Joan Jett & The Black Hearts
Please Forgive Me- Bryan Adams
I Get Around - 2 Pac
The Joker - Stevie Miller Band
I Touch Myself - Divinyls
Against All Odds - Phil Collins
Leather and Lace - Stevie Nicks,
Edge of Seventeen- Stevie Nicks and Don Henley
Love and Affection - Nelson
Blurb
He’s the boy you hate to love, and love to hate.
Lucas, the star quarterback, seems to have it all—super star athletic abilities, expensive clothes, cars, and women who will stop at nothing to be his, if only for a night.
Tessa is a young woman who lives her life always doing what is right. She tries desperately to hold herself accountable to the demanding expectations of her family, and everyone around her, while remaining virtuous.
However, when two worlds collide, sparks fly and ignite in a fiery passion that neither Lucas nor especially Tessa are ready for.
A troubled home life is exposed. Past flings fight for attention. Exes wreak havoc. And the odds continue to stack up against them.
Will the fire and passion of first love win, or will it destroy them?
This is love, not a fairy tale.
The Blue Valley series is not your typical love story. It is a journey through one’s past … maybe even a story resembling yours, or someones close to you.
It’s our story.
PLEASE NOTE: this series was previously released as The Love series (MJ's very first works) and has been through a complete rewrite, which consists of a change from narrative to first person/ dual POV and forty thousand words worth of new content.
To The Reader
PLEASE NOTE:
this series was previously released as The Love series (MJ's very first works) and has been through a complete rewrite, which consists of a change from narrative to first person/ dual POV and forty thousand words worth of new content.
Warning: Highly Emotional!
This book contains volatile characters in real-life situations that may be triggers to some readers.
Chapter One
Five, I start the countdown as my feet pound against the cracked sidewalk just out the back door of the old farmhouse. When it slams shut behind me, bounces back open, and slams again and again, I cringe.
The door … Something else that has long been neglected due to the fact there’s always more important things to do around the Ross family farm than fix a busted spring.
“Tessa Anne Ross, easy on that door!” I hear my mom yell from the window in frustration as I round the lilac tree and hit the driveway.
I run even faster now, eyes on the field beyond the shop where Dad is constantly fixing up the old equipment to keep things running.
Four. I inhale deeply as I run between the fields of sweet yet dusty-smelling hay, feet pounding against the hard, uneven, rutted dirt driveway.
Dad said it was a “Good year. We’re blessed to get a second cutting.”
To the family, it means extra money, but it also means more work.
Faster.
Three. I push myself harder as I approach the corn. Rows and rows of it. It was also a good year for corn, which means, mid-September, the harvest begins … More work.
There is no outrunning the work to be done, but soon, really soon, I can better wrap my head around all that this “good year” has brought the Ross family.
“Two,” I pant out as my feet hit the overgrown grass mixed with colorful blue and white flowering weeds. Beautiful, yet still weeds that now cover the ground that used to be meticulously cut. A place where the five of us—me; my older sister, Molly; older brother, Alex; younger sister, Kendall; and younger brother, Jake—would spend summer lunches, picnicking with Mom and Dad on the grass. Even after Mom was in community college, finishing her nursing degree then working, Molly continued the summertime tradition—sun tea and sandwiches on a checkered blanket—until she went to college.
Not anymore.
Not stopping at the once loved and now abandoned spot, I head into the woods, pushing through the burdock bushes, not caring if I get them stuck to my clothes or in my hair, stepping over and on the ferns that blanket the ground, passed the unkempt pathway, panting as I continue.
I make my way down the steep hillside to the place I go to be alone, to think, to scream, to shout, to cry, and to wash away all my worries.
“One!” I yell up to the sky to hear my echo through the woods as I stand on the edge of the creek, toeing off my sneakers then pulling off my socks while watching the birds fly from their resting places. Carefully, I step into the
cool water and look upstream, trying to control my breathing as I take in the sight before me.
The falls …
Finally, I feel like I can breathe.
Curling my toes in the water to feel the rocks and find my footing, I carefully trudge upstream, toward the cascading water, the mist hitting my heated face, cooling it in the sweltering late-summer heat and humidity, a welcome feeling.
I carefully climb the slippery rock until I’m finally at the point where it evens out. Then I turn and scoot back on my butt until I’m under the heavy flow of water and cry.
I cry because of change, I cry in frustration, and I cry because I know something awful is brewing at home. My parents have always had little arguments—that’s normal—but a couple weeks ago, I overheard the word “Separation” fall from Mom’s lips and “Absolutely not” was Dad’s immediate response. Since then, not one quibble. Heck, not even a funny little jab about Mom overcooking the meat, which would bring on her normal “Learn to cook for yourself, John Ross” reply.
Now she’s busy organizing the house, which means emptying every nook and cranny, including each closet and cupboard. Dad is consumed with farm work, as he has done every summer since I can remember, dodging rain and summer storms while crop season is in full swing, but this time … even more so. And he’s irritable, which is not at all like him. It may be because my brother, Alex, and I have been skipping out on helping as much around the farm as we have in previous years, and this year, even more was planted. At first, it was due to fall sports tryouts and now practices.
Alex is playing football for the first time ever, and in our senior year. He played peewee with our cousins, Jasper and Jason—also his best friends—but five years ago, they were killed in a car accident. Alex stopped playing and was held back a year in school. Then, a year ago, when Jake started playing, tossing the ball around with him, he mentioned wanting to try out yet never did, because things were always too busy. That was another argument I overheard. Mom was insisting that Dad encourage him. It was his last year in high school, after all, and Mom wanted him to come out of his shell before college. He has been … withdrawn. I was, too, after the accident, but Jade, my cousin and best friend since birth, their sister, she needed a distraction, too.
Me. I’m her distraction.
And lately, I’ve been distracted myself.
I scoot back behind the falling water and wipe away the tears mixed with water droplets, angry at myself for being so upset that my parents are having problems when things like accidents and dead cousins are also a part of life.
And so is work, I think as I slide down the rock, determined to stop feeling sorry for myself.
Once on even ground, I take my time walking back. As I get closer, I hear the all-too-familiar sound of the hay elevator. Even though I’m exhausted from the four-hour field hockey practice in the heat and humidity, I need to do my part. But I will take my time getting there.
From a distance, I see the normal hay crew, all friends from school looking to make an extra few bucks. Ryan, also a senior and playing ball for the first time since the accident—he and Jasper were extremely close—and Frankie and Mark, both play soccer and are juniors. They come from broken homes, and I swear they use the farm as an escape. Odd how I have to escape from this place while others find respite in it.
Since I’ve been a bit off my game, Jade has found a new distraction. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t find it a good disruption in the angst that seems to be my life, because I totally do.
After field hockey practice, Jade and I wait to catch a ride with Alex and watch as all the new players come out, freshly showered. The hottest ones always seem to wear white hats.
Tomorrow is the last day of practice before the long Labor Day weekend break, and then … school starts.
School will be different this year due to State and Federal budget cuts to the education system. Some of the rural schools in Central New York have been closed since the end of last year. Therefore, Blue Valley Central School District has gained about fifty new students. Jade and our friend, Becca, call the newbies “implants.”
More change …
“It sure is a hot one today.” Jade wags her brows as she fans her face.
I roll my eyes and she nods at the white hat boys ambling out of the locker room doors.
“Should we invite them to the pond to—”
I quickly cut her off with a sharp, “No.”
“Oh, come on, Tessa,” she grumbles as she follows me to the passenger side door of the old truck. “Fresh meat, not related, not working for your father, or mine, and we haven’t known them since before their faces cleared up and their voices and balls dropped.”
I swing the door open, and she grabs it before it hits the shiny black Pontiac Trans-am, that looks way out of place here in Blue Valley’s parking lot.
“Interesting way to meet some new hotties, but I’m sure Uncle John wouldn’t like the insurance claim if you dent up that car.” She jokes.
I hear a loud whistle and look toward it. Alex nods to the back of the truck, I groan as I slam the door, walk around the back, and climb in, Jade follows.
“I’d rather be back here anyway.” She smiles as she leans against the cab smiling at the guys walking past us.
“Got your suits on?” Alex asks as he throws his gear in the back.
I nod.
“Good.”
“Why not?” Jade splashes water at me.
“Why now?” I respond as I swim backward and kick my feet, splashing her back.
“Like I said at the school, none of them work for your dad on the farm or have swung a hammer for my dad.” She swims after me. “And truth be told, none of them knew my brothers, so maybe they won’t look at me like some broken little girl who needs saving.”
“Who looks at you like that?” I huff, pulling myself up onto the raft.
“You know who,” she says, doing the same.
“Ryan Brookes doesn’t look at you like you’re broken.”
Sitting beside me, she nods at him and Alex, standing on the bank. Ryan’s arms are crossed, black hat pulled down, and yeah, he’s staring in our direction.
“Care to eat those words?” she huffs.
“Alex is looking at us the same way,” I defend Ryan, who is glowering at Jade like he always has.
“Is not,” she huffs.
“You ever think maybe Ryan likes you?”
“Oh, that would be fun, making out with someone who thinks of my brothers every time he looks at me.” She lays back on the floating deck and closes her eyes.
“Jade, I don’t think he’d—”
“Yeah, well, maybe I would. So, no. Just no.”
I lay back, too, and then reach over, grab her hand, and give it a squeeze. “Okay. So, we wait for college”—or marriage—“just like we always said we would.”
She turns and looks at me, then past me and nods up the hill. “Why wait to go to the market when the market has come to us?”
“Oh great,” I grumble as I hear the stereo system blasting Alabama’s “I’m In A Hurry.”
“We’re still country, Tessa.” Jade snickers as she sits up. “And a little bit rock and roll.”
I watch as Alex’s teammates barrel down the hill.
Jade starts to stand up, grinning. “Here come the white hat boys, Tessa.”
I yank her back down. “Weren’t we working on getting rid of our farm-girl tans?”
“Good idea.” She lays back down and pops a knee up. “Looking relaxed seems so much less—”
“Desperate? Yeah.”
Laying on our stomachs now, we watch—one of us less obvious than the other—as all the implants hop out of the back of the truck and throw off their shirts.
“Lord have mercy,” Jade groans as they begin to run to the pond.
Ryan and Alex beat them in and begin to swim toward the raft, where they climb up and shake off, water spraying droplets on our sun-heated skin.
“Assholes,” Jade hisses.
“Nice mouth,” Alex mumbles.
“Well deserved.” Jade sits up and wipes the water from her arms as some of the others climb up.
I immediately notice a couple of them looking at my chest, making me incredibly self-conscious with my choice of suits.
I hate my boobs. I hate that they decided to sprout over the summer even more.
Giving them a nasty look, I stand then dive in.
“Wait for me!” Jade calls from behind me, and then I hear a splash as she jumps in.
I see a couple of the guys, ones who clearly spend a hell of a lot of time at the gym, standing on the bank still; shirts off, of course. Without looking at them, I hurry to the picnic table, grab my tank top, and throw it on. Then I grab Jade’s and look back to watch her slowly walk out of the water, reaching over her shoulders and pushing her boobs out as she squeezes water from her long, black hair.
When I see her smirk at the two, I toss her tank top in her face.
“Gee, thanks for the heads-up.” She laughs.
“Come on.” I stomp toward the truck.
“Where are you pretty ladies heading off to?” one of them asks while the other snickers.
“Places to go,” Jade says in a voice I seriously don’t recognize.
