Love Undiscovered (Love in San Soloman Book 2)

by Denise Wells

  Love Undiscovered

  Love in San Soloman - Book Two

  Denise Wells

  Copyright © 2018 by Denise Wells

  Cover Design: Shari Ryan, MadHat Books

  Editing: Ellie McLove, Gray Ink

  Publicity: Linda Russell, Foreword PR

  Proofreading: Pam Huff

  Cover Art: Melissa Monasmith

  Cover Models: Josh and Melissa Monasmith

  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.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any mistakes or misrepresentations are the authors alone.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  Bauer’s Bad Ass Jams

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Denise Wells

  For my Remi IRL

  If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.

  Marilyn Monroe

  Chapter 1

  Remi

  A drop of sweat falls from his forehead on to my face.

  I reach up to wipe it away, trying not to be disgusted.

  This isn’t working for me.

  I need to stop him before it goes too far.

  He’s going through the motions, all the right motions even. His angle is good, he’s moving in and out at a nice pace, and he’s throwing in a little bump and grind for good measure and clit pleasure.

  Haha – that rhymes.

  Focus, Remi.

  Maybe if I touch myself.

  I reach down but can’t seem to wedge my hand between our bodies. He’s at such an angle where his pelvis doesn’t seem to be leaving mine. But, I’m certain he’s still pumping in and out of me. I reach my hand around to feel. Yep, his ass is definitely moving up and down. His nicely rounded ass, I should say. I squeeze the hard, taut muscle. He groans in response.

  Huh.

  How is it that I can notice how great his ass is and still be getting nothing from this?

  You know why, Remi. It’s because you’re a cold shell of a human—

  I ignore that little voice in my head. The one that reminds me that I’m incapable of any real feeling or emotion. Just one more thing I can thank my parents for. The lack of any real feelings or love in the Vargas household growing up.

  Don’t think about that now.

  I refocus my attention on the attractive man pumping away on top of me. He’s trying really hard. It makes me feel bad for wanting to stop him.

  I look at him, his eyes are closed, and his face has this dreamy quality about it. Like he’s in a really great headspace. Or, shit, like he’s enjoying the sex.

  What must that be like?

  Get out of your head, Remi.

  Stay in the moment.

  Except, I haven’t been in the moment this entire time. If I’ve not gotten into it yet, it’s not like it’s going to get any better.

  It should be good though. I mean, we had two face-to-face dates that I enjoyed. And the six months of long-distance sexting and texting was good. Hot, even.

  But this...

  Is in person, not via text from hundreds of miles away where you can stay detached.

  I never should have invited him to a champagne brunch this morning. I don’t have the extra time in my schedule to waste a whole morning like this. I could be at work running lab trials like a good little scientist should. Or out with my besties, Kat and Lexie. And now I’ll probably get a headache from the cheap champagne at brunch.

  Fuck.

  “Can you stop?” I ask him, my jaw clenched, as he grunts and thrusts above me. He doesn’t seem to hear me, so I give his chest a shove.

  “Yeah, baby, give it to me,” he says.

  “Hey, Alex,” I say, tapping him on the shoulder instead. “Stop, this isn’t working for me.”

  He stops and looks at me with his head slightly cocked, a confused look on his face.

  “Off,” I say gruffly, as I start to sit up, still pushing against him.

  He rolls off me, pulling out as he goes, and turns to lay on his back beside me.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his tone annoyed. He looks at the ceiling, forearm resting on his forehead, as he tries to catch his breath.

  “This isn’t working for me.”

  “What does that mean? What’s not working for you?” He leans up slightly and cocks his head, squinting his eyes as he asks his questions.

  “The sex isn’t working for me. I’m just not feeling it,” I say.

  “Not feeling it? Am I doing something wrong?”

  “No. I’m sure it’s just me.”

  “Are you just not in the mood? Do you want to wait a bit? Maybe change positions? I can go faster. Or slower.” His brown eyes are wide with hope.

  God, I’m an asshole.

  “That’s not going to make a difference, Alex.”

  “Well, how do you know unless we try it?” He looks at me, a small smile on his face.

  “It’s not going to happen. I don’t know how to be any clearer. The sex is not working for me. I’m not going to get off. I don’t see a reason to continue.”

  “How do you know you’re not going to get off?”

  Wow. He’s so much more persistent than I thought. I need to shut this down. He needs to leave. I want to shower, change my sheets, and get on with my day.

  “I just know, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says drawing out the word. “Maybe I could—” He reaches for me.

  “I don’t think so,” I say, trying to be gentler.

  “Okay, that’s a little harsh—”

  “I’m sorry.” I guess he didn’t get that I was being gentle. I get out of the bed and walk naked to the bathroom. “I don’t mean to be harsh. I just… I think it’s best if you leave now. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower and, uh, stuff.”

  I close the ba
throom door behind me and turn on the shower. Then make the mistake of glancing in the mirror. My normally, carefully coiffed black hair looks like a back-comb teasing experiment gone bad. My makeup is still intact though, thank god. That’s what hundreds of dollars at Sephora will get you.

  “Remi.”

  I hear him outside the bathroom door, still trying to talk to me.

  “Alex, just go. Please. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “If that’s really what you want,” he says, sounding petulant.

  “It is.” I keep my voice firm.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later,” he sighs.

  “You don’t have to call me later.”

  “You don’t even want me to call you?” he asks, sounding surprised.

  I turn the shower back off and open the bathroom door, so I can talk to him. Happy, when I do, to see he’s at least put his boxers on. I may not be able to benefit from any physical contact with the man, but I can definitely still appreciate the physical attributes. He, in turn, looks my naked frame and up and down. I don’t try to hide.

  “I don’t want you to call me. I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

  “We can’t even be friends? I mean, we had a good time, I thought.”

  “We did have a good time.” I gesture to the bed. “Before we had—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. You don’t need to keep reminding me,” he says.

  “Bye, Alex. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

  “Seriously, Remi? You stop me in the middle of sex to tell me it’s bad, get out of bed, ask me to leave your house, and then tell me to have a good day? Is there something wrong with you?” His voice rising to a shrill at that last question.

  More than you know.

  I can’t help it, I start laughing. I mean, I suppose that should offend me, but I find it funny for some reason.

  After a brief pause, he laughs with me. His lightly muscled abs contracting.

  He really is good-looking.

  I consider changing my mind about him, then shake my head, ridding it of such a thought. I grab a robe from the back of the bathroom door and put it on, then reach my hand out to him, “Friends?”

  He takes my hand and shakes it. “Friends.” He grabs his pants and puts them on, then looks at his watch. “I guess if I leave now I can still make my game.”

  “Game?”

  “Yeah, the law enforcement basketball league.”

  “You’re in law enforcement? I thought you did IT consulting work.” I try to rapidly think back to when he’s talked about his job in past conversations. How had this not come up before?

  “I do. But I specialize in IT for police departments.”

  “Oh. I had no idea.”

  “Does that make a difference?” he smirks and runs his hand through his sex-tousled hair. I fight the urge to run my fingers through it after him.

  What is wrong with me?

  “No.” I laugh slightly. “I just have friends in the police department and the fire department.”

  “Why did you think I was traveling to two different regional police departments over the last six months?”

  “Well, I wasn’t really thinking about who you were working with. Or where you were working. Just that you were traveling for work.”

  “My base is out of San Soloman, but they lend me out to other divisions as a consultant. So, this last gig was actually two different locales, one in NoCal and one in the Central Coast. But both were PC refreshes,” he says as he finishes dressing.

  “Oh.” I have no idea what a PC refresh is, but I don’t want to ask him for fear that he’ll actually try to explain it to me, and then he’ll never leave.

  “Anyway, the annual ball for San Soloman law enforcement is coming up. I was going to ask you to go with me.”

  “That’s sweet, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t? I thought we were friends now.” His face hardens as he talks. I’ve made him mad. I try to soften the blow of rejection. “Can’t. I’m actually already going.”

  “Weren’t we still kind of dating, or at least talking, up until a few minutes ago? Or… is that why you stopped me earlier? Because there’s someone else? Why did we even get together today then?”

  “No. Believe me, that is not the reason. I wanted to get together with you today, I didn’t realize it was going to go like it did.” I don’t blame him for being frustrated. If I were him I would be too.

  “Then how are you going to the ball?” he asks.

  “I’m going as a favor to a friend.”

  He looks skeptical but doesn’t question me further.

  “Okay, well, maybe I’ll see you there, then. If I go. I mean, I’m not going without a date.” He kisses me on the cheek and turns to leave.

  “I’ll walk you out,” I say.

  “Don’t bother,” he says. “Take your shower. And enjoy your day.”

  “Thanks,” I say. But I follow him to the door anyway so I can lock it.

  “Hey,” I say. He turns to look at me.

  “Not that it’s a big deal, but if you had a basketball game you wanted to play in, then why agree to see me today?”

  “Remi, we’d had two dates and then spent the next six months texting. Of course, I wanted to see you before anything else. I like you. It was important to me to see where this was going to go. I guess now I know.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” And in that moment, I do feel bad for how this has played out. Even though a small part of me knew it couldn’t have gone any other way.

  He gives me a small, sad smile, then opens my front door and heads out.

  Chapter 2

  Chance

  “Hello?” I answer my phone through my headset as I walk through the parking lot of the Y. I don’t bother checking to see who’s calling first.

  “Chance, dear, is that you?” my mom asks. After all this time, you’d think she would understand that I’m the only one who is going to answer my cell, but she doesn’t.

  “Yeah, mom, it’s me. You doing okay?”

  “Oh yes, I’m good. Don’t you worry about me.”

  “Dad okay?” I also ask, since she usually doesn’t call me in the middle of the day without there being an important reason.”

  “Well, now your dad’s good too, don’t you worry about him. Are you doing okay?”

  “I’m good, Ma, just heading to the Y for a basketball game.”

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m making a roast for Sunday dinner, I know that’s your favorite.”

  “It is my favorite, Ma, thanks. I look forward to it.”

  “Well, I do have to spoil my favorite son every now and then,” she says.

  “I’m your only son, Ma,” I laugh.

  “Well, if you weren’t, you’d still be my favorite, I’m sure.”

  I have to chuckle at my mom’s accent, it’s very Midwest, betraying her Wisconsin roots.

  “Well, I also wanted to remind you to bring my stamps,” she says.

  “I won’t forget, Ma, I promise.” She collects these little stamps from the grocery store. They give out a number of them after you purchase a certain dollar amount in items. She makes my sisters and I all shop at the same chain-store so we can collect the stamps for her. She’s saving the stamps for a chance to win a European river cruise. She and my dad have never been anywhere they couldn’t drive to in less than a day. So the cruise is a big deal for them.

  What she doesn’t know is that my sisters and I have been saving money to send my parents on that same cruise for their fortieth wedding anniversary next year; no stamps required. My mom has had her eye on it for years. It’s two weeks and starts in Paris, and goes through Luxemburg, and then through Germany. We plan to have enough to send them on first class for their airfare, give them a couple days of rest in the respective cities before and after the cruise, book them a suite on the ship, cover their onboard expenses, and se
nd them with spending money.

  “Well, you know I’m gonna win that cruise, Chancey,” she says.

  “I know you are, Ma. And, I’ll bring the stamps, I promise. I gotta go, I’m walking into the Y and I’m running late. Love you. See you Sunday.”

  “I love you too, be safe.”

  I get in the Y with just enough time to change my clothes and get on the court. I don’t see Alex, the guy who invited me, anywhere. But I do see a couple other guys from around the precinct, and one guy from the fire department. I think his name is Ethan.

  I grab a ball and start doing some warm-up shots. I’m not a good ball player, but I’m not bad either.

  “Hey, you made it.” I turn and see Alex jogging across the court toward me. Sometimes I find it odd that he’s really a computer nerd because he looks the part of a cop to a tee. Short hair, tall but stocky build, and he more lopes than runs. Limbs loose and at the ready for anything that might come at him.

  “Yeah, thanks for the invite, man.”

  “We can always use another tall guy on our team.”

  The whistle blows and someone yells, “Play ball!”

  We lose the game by five points but still head to The Recovery Room bar for beers afterward. I finish my first beer and am contemplating a second when the waitress sets a pint down in front of me.

  “Well, thank you darlin’, I was still undecided, so I guess you’ve made up my mind for me.”