by K B Cinder
The Holly Hearth Collection
KB Cinder
Contents
Also by KB Cinder
Dashing Through the No
Introduction
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
Coming of Sage
Untitled
Prologue
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
Say, “No way, Trey.”
Later Slater
Introduction
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Rebel
Introduction
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Thank you
About the Author
Also by KB Cinder
The Barrett Brothers Series
Privately
Barrett All
Painted Love
Holly Hearth
Dashing Through the No (Holly Hearth Book #1)
Coming of Sage (Holly Hearth Book #2)
Later Slater (Holly Hearth Book #3)
Rebel (Holly Hearth Book #4)
Coming Soon
Circle Jerk
Copyright KB Cinder (2019)©
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any way, shape, or form without written permission from the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters, scenes, and dialogue are entirely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or incidents is purely coincidental.
Editing by Honey Palomino
For every hot mess hellion -
This is for you.
❤
Fired and arrested.
What a way to kick off the holidays.
Brandon earned every inch of the phallic surprise on his car, but that doesn’t mean Fate cares.
You see, she and I have been battling for years.
Things are looking up, though.
I scored a break, and community service is my only punishment.
After that, I’d be free and clear, right? Not.
Volunteering at the first responders’ holiday party should have been a breeze.
All I had to do was dress like an elf for the night.
I could do that.
But that would have been too easy.
Why? Because I’m Juni Mullen, and poor life choices and I are best friends.
What’d I do now?
Let’s just say Juni was doing a lot more than kissing Santa Claus.
And the man playing him?
My brother’s best friend.
Yeah, I know.
If you need me, I’ll be in the tub with a bottle of wine.
XOXO Juni
1
Rock bottom.
I’d more than hit it. I’d seen it, smelled it, and tasted it. I might have snorted it, too, while rolling around in its clutches.
The crash landing from kindergarten teacher to unemployed was swift and painful, leaving me in tears and handcuffs.
For the record, Brandon deserved every scratch in his stupid sports car, even if he was the principal of Honey Hills Elementary and, therefore, my boss.
Well, former boss.
Funny, huh? He was free to cheat on me with the new business administrator, yet I was the one in the doghouse.
Yes, I keyed his car, and no, I wasn’t sorry.
I’d do it all over again to see his tears a second time. I didn’t care that they were for his custom paint job and not the loss of the so-called love of his life.
Now I was facing God-knows-what in front of the county prosecutor, a toadstool of a man with a toilet-seat hairline and halitosis.
Was it polite to notice? No. But hitting on me before my lawyer arrived wasn’t either. I was down on my luck, not desperate. I wouldn’t throw my skirt up and ride the first available dong to freedom.
I should have recorded every vile word about what he could do with what body part. Then I’d be free and clear rather than stuck in a squeaky office chair on Thanksgiving Eve.
Stank Breath aka the prosecutor was seated across from me, his fat, sweaty fingers fumbling through a manilla folder smudged with ink and coffee. He huffed and puffed as he worked, blowing his disgusting breath all over the room.
“Is it true that you carved this into Mr. Finger’s hood?” he asked, flipping a photo to the table for me to see.
It showed a familiar sight; cherry-red paint scraped away in the shape of a two-foot-long dong with big, droopy, hairy balls. I’d used Brandon’s house key for the masterpiece, putting it to good use after finding him plowing his new woman’s lady fields.
Ones that needed to be weeded, might I add.
“And this?” he continued, slapping a picture of the driver’s side next to it, fuck Brandon Finger scrawled in the doors. I bit down on my tongue to keep a smile at bay as he set down another, cheating scum etched in the passenger side. “And this?”
I looked to my public defender, too broke to afford any of the TV defense attorneys that promised the moon and the stars. You know, the ones that made vehicular manslaughter sound as minor as jaywalking? Well, I had Nick, a scrawny man that looked younger than my twent
y-nine years and chattered incessantly, but I’d make do, even if he was more nervous than I was.
Honesty is the best policy ran through my mind; my stepfather’s advice pinging around like a bouncy ball.
I was up to my ears in shit of my own making, facing at least a vandalism or defacement of property charge. Both carried hefty fines and even jail time. Worse, they’d leave a blemish on my squeaky-clean record, barring me from ever getting a job in education again.
“I did,” I admitted, Nick nearly turning purple at my words. Apparently not many criminals confess directly to the prosecutor. Oops. “I reacted inappropriately in a time of great distress.”
That was one way to put it.
After finding him fertilizing Clare, I did the adult thing and walked out. I was halfway down his walkway when the she-devil inside took over, and the key I used to get inside started whispering sweet nothings as my eyes fell on his stupid car. The car he loved more than me.
“I take it Mr. Finger and you were romantically involved?” Stank Breath pushed, the funk flying from his mouth unbearable from across the table. It smelled like day-old fish in the trunk of a hot car.
Gee, what gave it away? The big dick on the hood of his car or the fact that I scrawled cheating scum on the side of it?
“We dated for two years.”
Two blissful years.
Ones that allowed me to get over the anxiety that came from just thinking about being a teacher named Mrs. Finger one day if all went well. So much for that. Now I wanted to snap every single finger he had, including the stumpy one between his legs.
Stank Breath nodded, steepling his fingers over my handiwork as he locked eyes with me. “And I see that you’re a teacher?”
“I was a teacher. Mr. Finger was my boss.”
I was out of a job before the holidays. At least that’s what the text in between the ones calling me c-bombs said.
He’d have a fun time explaining my termination to the board when fraternization would cost him his job too.
Stank Breath tilted his head from side to side as if he were mulling over a decision. A decision that could cost me my life as I knew it.
I had no plan b. I’d wanted to be a teacher for as long as I could remember. I was never sure why, really. I didn’t particularly enjoy shrieking children, but I felt at home with them. Their chaos matched mine.
“Mr. Finger is willing to not press charges if you complete eight hours of community service.”
I blinked, sure I’d misheard him.
There was no way in hell that Brandon would let me get away with defiling Scarlett — yes with two Ts — the beloved chariot he’d spent a year’s salary on. He’d want my head on a silver platter. No, a golden platter. With the Hope diamond in my mouth like a ball gag.
“I’m surprised, frankly, seeing that he isn’t asking for restitution for the three-thousand in damages you caused, either.”
I got lost staring at his shiny forehead, not sure what was happening. Was I being recorded? Was it all a joke? Was someone going to pop out, yell surprise, and slap cuffs on my wrists?
“Just to be clear - nothing will show on her record?” Nick sounded as shocked as I felt.
Stank Breath shook his dome, tapping a finger on the photo spread in front of him, his nail chewed to hell and back with raw, bloodied cuticles surrounding it. “No, and I definitely could have charged her with a felony for that dollar amount of damage. You’re quite the artist, Ms. Mullen. A penile Picasso of sorts.”
“Thanks.”
I was proud of my artwork. I hadn’t seen the carving since Sunday morning, and honestly, I’d forgotten how majestic it truly was. I’d even included veins.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Nick grumbled, fussing with papers in his briefcase.
“Sure it was,” Stank Breath gushed, slithering back into creeper territory. “She’s talented.”
He was old enough to be my father and didn’t remotely touch the silver fox fantasy that occasionally popped into my dreams. He was more like the awkward dentist you could tell spanked his monkey like nobody’s business. A realization that only hit you after he had his entire fist in your mouth.
“So, do I sign paperwork or what?” I asked, plowing right through his attempts at flirting to get started on fixing my life.
I needed to hit the ground running to find a new job and figure out how to explain my termination. I couldn’t exactly admit to boning my boss or keying a schlong into his car.
Stank Breath reddened at my blatant lack of interest. “It’s an off-the-books arrangement, Ms. Mullen. All I ask is that you send a log of hours to Mr. Finger when you’re finished.”
“Can I volunteer anywhere?” I was already rattling off options in my mind. If I were lucky, I’d be able to bang it out that weekend. That would leave plenty of time to cry over my resume with a glass of wine.
He sighed, his rounded shoulders sagging. “I do need a favor, if you can help. The police and fire departments are co-hosting a holiday event in a few weeks.”
“And?” I could handle being a ticket girl for a night. Screw it. I’d clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush to get me out of a mark on my record. I hadn’t spent four years in undergrad with a bitch of a roommate for nothing.
“We’re short on elves, and you fit the bill nicely.” I didn’t miss the sweep of his eyes across my breasts, my black turtleneck decidedly demure paired with my plaid skirt, though it clung to every nook and cranny.
“Is that a height joke?” I fired back, crossing my arms to hide my chest. At five-foot-five, I wasn’t exactly small. Not that I was tall, either.
“Not at all,” he breathed, a toxic plume of poo air hurtling across the table. Nick turned to avoid a direct hit while I chose to hold my breath. “You’re cute like one.”
I waited a few seconds for the air to clear before speaking, not wanting to ingest whatever was leaking out of his mouth. It reminded me of my childhood Cocker Spaniel that used to go treasure hunting in the kitty litter. “Odd. In ancient times, elves were thought to be evil beings that caused illness and chaos. I’ve never been compared to that.”
Though I did cause plenty of chaos.
I could feel Nick tense beside me, his loafer-clad foot nudging my heeled one as he looked on with a silent stare that screamed shut up now. I knew that look well. I’d been getting it all my life.
My mouth got me into more trouble than it could talk me out of, whether it was smart-talking someone or wrapped around my boss’s dick. It was a wonder I’d made it to twenty-nine.
“Hardly. You’re beautiful, Ms. Mullen.”
Seriously? I glanced back at Nick, surprised he wasn’t up in arms at him openly hitting on me. Couldn’t he yell objection or something? Or was it open season for the creep, since he held my future in the palm of his hand?
“Well, if that’s all, I have to get going,” I declared, deciding to put an end to things myself. If Brandon refused to press charges, I was in the clear. At least until I got home and found him on my doorstep or something. “I have jobs to apply to.”
Ones I wasn’t sure I’d find. Vacancies were few and far between, even during the peak season in spring. The holidays would be worse than the bread aisle before a winter storm.
“Let me know if you need a letter of recommendation, Ms. Mullen. I’d love to help.” Stank Breath’s eyes skimmed over me again as I stood, and it took everything in me to not ‘accidentally’ kick the table into his swollen gut.
“Thanks.” I didn’t shake his hand, heading straight for the door.
Nick scrambled to get to his feet after me. Poor kid. He’d never last with real criminals on his docket. I hadn’t had so much as a parking ticket before redecorating Brandon’s car, and I was walking all over him in my size-seven heels.
He caught up to me at the elevator, flushed fire engine red clear to his ears. “That was pushing your luck back there, Juniper, don’t you think?”
I pressed the call button agai
n as I adjusted my handbag, the leather biting into my flesh thanks to the bottle of wine I had tucked inside. “Brandon isn’t pressing charges, so there was no need to call me downtown. He could’ve easily relayed that message on the phone without the flirting.”
He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, sweat beginning to dot his brow. “Can you please keep it down? Someone might hear you!”
“Good, maybe then he’ll learn not to act like a pig.” I smoothed my skirt, the fabric building up static against my black stockings. “He wasn’t elected to hit on me.”
