She wanted a night. Maybe a string of them.
“A friend?”
“Yeah, although who am I kidding? I could use a friend, too. I’ve had a shitty week.”
I grunted and took a drink of my beer.
Her eyes flicked to my crotch again. I followed her gaze, making it obvious I could see what she was doing.
“I’ll just cut to the chase. Do you want to get out of here?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?”
She licked her lips. “I was thinking of something better than just a drink.”
I looked away, considering. Usually if I was going to grab a girl to take home with me—or more accurately, take to her place, because I never took girls to mine—I liked to be the one on the prowl.
But this girl was hot, no denying it. And she was right, I was fucking lonely. A little company didn’t sound half bad.
Plus, it had been a hell of a long time since I’d indulged in this kind of thing.
“Look, I know I’m being really forward,” she said. “But I’m the type of girl who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants.”
“I see that.”
She lightly traced a finger down my arm. “A guy like you—tall, thick, rugged—is like crack to me. I can’t resist. And I really did have a shitty week.”
“So did I.”
“See? This works out for both of us.”
She had a point. There was no doubt this girl looked like trouble, but at least she was up front. I knew what I’d be getting into. And damn it, it really had been a long time. Why the fuck not?
I put my beer down. “You live nearby?”
“Yeah. Just up the road.”
“Let’s go.”
We left, and I got on my bike. Followed her up the road to a little house tucked behind some apple trees.
She didn’t turn on the lights when we went inside. Just led me straight back to her bedroom.
This aggressive thing wasn’t bad. No forced small talk. No bullshitting. No games. She’d brought me home to fuck, so why waste time pretending we were going to get to know each other first? She hadn’t even given me her name, and I didn’t want to know. Didn’t care. It was just sex. Just a release.
Just a way to feel a little less empty for a while.
Afterward, she lay sprawled out on the bed, like I’d fucked her unconscious. I had no interest in staying, so I got up to deal with the condom and clean up.
She had a bathroom right off the bedroom. I shut the door and flicked on the light. Tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and quickly looked away. I wasn’t exactly a fan of what I saw there these days.
I washed my hands and splashed water on my face. When I turned off the faucet, something on the counter caught my eye.
I stared at it, a sick feeling erupting in my gut. If that was what I thought it was—and it sure looked like it—there was no part of this that was okay.
Fuck.
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Broken Miles: Chapter 1
Roland
All your shit’s gone, and I’m just trying to figure out what the hell happened.
~Text from Roland, four years ago
They wanted a damn miracle. I looked over the email again, already formulating a strategy. What my boss was asking for was tough. But, as the saying went, that was why they paid me the big bucks. I was the youngest CFO in Dimension, Inc.’s history for a reason.
I was a goddamn miracle worker.
Glancing at the time, I had to do a double take. It was already after nine. I hadn’t realized it was so late. But I worked late most nights, and it wasn’t like there was anyone around to bitch at me about it. I didn’t have plans with Farrah tonight; she was out of town. And even when we did have plans, she got it. She worked as much as I did, and she understood what it took to make it at this level. I never had to worry about that with her.
My cell buzzed, vibrating on the desk next to my laptop. Looking down, I winced. My parents’ number. Their business number, to be specific. Which meant it could be either one of them calling. I didn’t particularly want to take the call, but if I didn’t answer, I’d have to call them back. Better to get it over with.
I picked up the phone and answered. “Yeah.”
“Hey, it’s Leo.”
That was odd. My younger brother never called. An occasional text, maybe, but it wasn’t like we were close. This probably meant bad news.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You need to come out here.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Mom and Dad are on the verge of losing the winery,” he said. “It’s a mess.”
I sat back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. You’ve got to be kidding me. “What do you mean, lose the winery?”
“The business is in debt up to its eyeballs,” he said. “Dad’s been hiding shit. It’s bad.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Leo said. “Do you think I would have called you if it wasn’t a big deal? This is serious. You need to come home.”
Fuck. Home? That was the last place I wanted to go.
“Now?” I asked. “I can’t just drop everything. I’m sure Dad will figure it out.”
“Roland,” Leo said, his tone sharp. “Dad’s the one who fucked everything up. He’s not going to fix it. We need you out here, man. If this is about Zoe…”
“It’s not about Zoe.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose again. Just thinking about Zoe gave me a headache. Why my mom had hired my ex-wife to work at the family winery was beyond me. Although, normally I didn’t give a shit. I was in San Francisco, almost a thousand miles from my hometown in central Washington. It’s not like it had any impact on my life if she worked there.
“Because we can, I don’t know, find ways to keep some distance between you two or whatever,” he said.
“I already said it isn’t about her. I’m an adult, I can be in the same room with Zoe.”
“Good,” he said. “Then get your ass home.”
“Leo—” I stopped because I heard the click of the call ending. I tossed my phone back onto my desk. “Fuck. Fuck you, Leo. And fuck you, Dad.”
I checked my calendar. Tomorrow was out, but if I flew out early on Thursday, I could get to the winery and finish up my day from there. I sent my assistant, Danielle, a text, telling her to book me a flight to Seattle and reserve a rental car.
My concentration was shot to shit. I wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight. But it was late anyway. I closed my laptop, grabbed my things, and went home.
I’d bought my condo for the view. During the day, I could see all the way to the water. At night, the lights of the city twinkled in the darkness. It had cost me a shit-ton of money, but every night when I stood looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows, I knew it had been worth it.
I went to the kitchen and took a bottle of Glenlivit out of the liquor cabinet. Poured a glass and took a long swallow. It burned going down, spreading warmth through my chest.
Danielle texted me back with my flight details for Thursday. I blew out a long breath and took another drink of Scotch.
Home. I’d grown up in Echo Creek, a small town in the Cascade Mountains. Growing up on a winery sounded idyllic, but I’d been glad to leave it behind.
How long had it been since I’d been there? Eighteen months? More? That didn’t sound right. But I hadn’t gone back for the holidays last year. It probably had been that long.
I felt a twinge of guilt at that. It wasn’t that I disliked my family. True, my dad and I butted heads, and my siblings liked to giv
e me crap for having moved away. But I knew my mom would like it if I came home more often.
I was just so damn busy. It was hard to carve out the time for a trip that wasn’t business related. And I’d have to endure the inevitable guilt trips. Why don’t you visit more often? Can’t you stay longer? Don’t you want to come back and join your brothers in the family business?
No, I fucking didn’t. But none of them had ever understood why I hadn’t fallen in line. Why I hadn’t taken up my proper place at the winery.
I was made for bigger things than running a goddamn wine business in a small town out in central nowhere. There was no challenge to it. No risk. And the potential rewards—particularly financially—were much too low for me. Money wasn’t everything, but honestly, it was most things. And I was good at making money. Great, even. I’d made my company a hell of a lot of money in the last several years.
I was respected here. People deferred to me. Trusted me with millions of dollars. I had my own office, an assistant, a penthouse condo with a priceless view. Enough money that I could have more or less anything I wanted.
I was living my dream, and I didn’t understand why my family couldn’t just be fucking happy for me. Why they had to harp on the fact that I wasn’t there all the time. My brothers had stayed. My sister would probably wind up back home after college. They even had my ex-wife. What the hell did they need me for?
I took another sip of Scotch and wandered over to the window, wondering what my dad had done that had Leo so riled up. Leo and I rarely saw eye to eye. He wouldn’t have called me over nothing. The big question was, did my dad know he’d done it? Were they expecting me to ride in with my MBA and save the day? Or was Leo going behind their backs to drag me into their mess?
I guess I was about to find out.
Thinking of home brought my thoughts back to Zoe. I went into the bedroom and set my drink down. With a glance over my shoulder—as if half-afraid someone would catch me—I pulled a small box down off a shelf in the closet.
There was only one thing inside. Zoe’s wedding ring.
I’d found it sitting on the kitchen counter of our old apartment the day she’d left me. The rest of her things had been gone. Her side of the closet, empty. Her drawers in the bathroom, cleaned out. She hadn’t taken much that had been ours—the things we’d accumulated together. I’d brought some of it to her later—the things I’d thought she’d want to keep—and given away the rest. But not her ring.
Keeping it was the stupidest thing. I didn’t know why I still had it. It wasn’t even very nice. We’d eloped when we were twenty—just a couple of poor college students. I’d saved for months to get it, and at the time, I’d been pretty damn proud of myself. Looking at it now, it was rather pathetic. Just a plain gold band with a tiny excuse for a diamond. Zoe had loved it when I’d given it to her—said she hadn’t expected a ring at all.
But we’d been different people, then. Young. Rebellious and wild. Idiots, really. We’d thought teenage hormones had been the real thing. Maybe they had, in their own way. But that hadn’t been enough.
It hurt to look at it, and I wondered why I did this to myself. I didn’t pull it out very often. Once when I’d randomly remembered it was her birthday. Another time on what had been our anniversary. Occasionally, thoughts of her would creep into my mind and refuse to let go, and I’d find myself right here. Nursing a glass of Scotch and staring at the cheap piece of shit I couldn’t bring myself to throw away.
I closed the box and put it back on the shelf. Maybe I’d get rid of it for good someday. A colleague of mine had proudly flushed his ex-wife’s ring down a public toilet. Another guy I knew had taken his ring off and dropped it in a garbage can in a park near his office.
I didn’t have my ring anymore. I’d lost it a few years after we’d gotten married. Zoe and I had been visiting my family for Christmas, and it had snowed. We’d been outside, embroiled in an impromptu snowball fight with my brothers. None of us had been dressed for the cold—no coats, hats, or gloves. Just a bunch of dumbass kids tossing snow at each other until our bare hands hurt. Back inside, I’d realized my ring had come off. We’d looked, but never found it.
It had been prophetic, in a way.
But I was past that now. Zoe and I hadn’t worked out. She hadn’t been happy, so she’d left. Moved back to Echo Creek. Started working for my parents. She was fine, and so was I.
In fact, I was more than fine. I was at the top of my game. Whether or not my family could appreciate it, my life was pretty fucking good.
I would do what I had to do. Spend a few days at home, look at their books, probably find a few errors. Argue with my dad. Talk shit with my brothers. Let my mom fuss over me a little. Then I’d be right back here, where I belonged.
Continue reading Broken Miles…
Dear Reader
Dear Reader,
Well, here we are. The end of Asher and Grace’s story, and the beginning of this new small-town family series.
What a ride.
It’s no secret that I wrote a draft of this book three years ago, and let me tell you, there is a reason that draft was shelved. I wasn’t ready. The differences between that old manuscript and the story you just read are many. And honestly, this one is so much better.
I’ve learned a lot as an author in those three years. And I tried to take everything I learned and pour it into this book, and this series.
I’m really proud of the result.
This story was a huge undertaking. I had so many layers to weave together, while always making sure that their relationship was the focus of the story. The town, the Bailey-Haven feud, the Eliza Bailey mystery, plus a cast of important side characters (you’ll see more from all of them).
But the focus is still Asher and Grace, and working through their rocky reunion to their happily ever after was a big challenge.
Writing about wounded people is totally my jam, and also an exercise in balance. Although their story deals with some big issues, I didn’t want this book to be too heavy. And at the same time, Grace was assaulted and Asher went to prison. I had to be willing to dig into that.
My mantra for this book, and really this entire series, has been, “What would you do if you weren’t afraid.” Every time I questioned myself, wondered if I should tone it down or not take a certain risk in the story, I asked myself that question. What would you do if you weren’t afraid? (In fact, it’s a note on my bulletin board by my desk.) My answer to that question guided every choice I made. Every word you read was the result of me letting go of my fear and letting this story unfold as it was meant to, regardless of the consequences.
Yep, even that epilogue.
Maybe especially that epilogue.
I hope Grace and Asher’s story was everything you hoped it would be. I feel like it’s some of my best work and I’m so excited to continue with this series. There’s a LOT more to come from these brothers. We’re just getting started.
Love,
CK
Acknowledgments
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who helped make this book possible.
Lori, you absolutely nailed the covers for this series. Thank you for your time and talent!
Thank you to Elayne for a superb editing job and to Erma for being kind enough to proofread and find those pesky little mistakes that try so hard to slip through.
A huge thank you to my team of admins and beta readers: Nikki, Alex, Jessica, Emily, Joyce, and Tammy. I couldn’t do what I do without all of you!
A special shout out to Nikki for helping me keep my head on straight, and brainstorming me out of all those dark and scary corners. And for believing in me since the beginning.
To my family for your love, support, patience, and understanding.
Also by Claire Kingsley
For a full and up-to-date listing of Claire Kingsley books visit www.clairekingsleybooks.com
The Bailey Brothers
Steamy, small-town family series. Fiv
e unruly brothers. Epic pranks. A quirky, feuding town. Big HEAs.
Protecting You: Series Origin Story
Fighting For Us
More Bailey Brothers coming soon!
The Miles Family
Sexy, sweet, funny, and heartfelt family series. Messy family. Epic bromance. Super romantic.
Broken Miles
Forbidden Miles
Reckless Miles
Hidden Miles
Gaining Miles: A Miles Family Novella
Dirty Martini Running Club
Sexy, fun stand-alone romantic comedies with huge… hearts.
Everly Dalton’s Dating Disasters
Free Faking Ms. Right prequel
Faking Ms. Right
A hot fake relationship romantic comedy
Love According to Science
A hot enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy
Bluewater Billionaires
Hot, stand-alone romantic comedies. Lady billionaire BFFs and the badass heroes who love them.
The Mogul and the Muscle
A billionaire and her bodyguard hot romantic comedy.
The Price of Scandal, Wild Open Hearts, and Crazy for Loving You
More Bluewater Billionaire shared-world stand-alone romantic comedies by Lucy Score, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant
Bootleg Springs
by Claire Kingsley and Lucy Score
Hot and hilarious small-town romcom series with a dash of mystery and suspense. Best read in order.
Whiskey Chaser
Sidecar Crush
Moonshine Kiss
Bourbon Bliss
Gin Fling
Highball Rush
Book Boyfriends
Hot, stand-alone romcoms that will make you laugh and make you swoon.
Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2) Page 38
