by Emily Bowie
He groans as his knees bend. “Remind me why I told you my first name? Complete buzzkill.”
My finger glides down his shirt before looping through his buckle. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“It’s so bad no one in my family calls me by my first name.”
“Whatever you say, Augustine,” I tease him.
“Now you’re really going to get it when we get home.”
Coming down the long driveway, Crash looks to me. “Now why on earth are there a bunch of vehicles at our house? I was really looking forward to breaking each and every one of those rules in your retirement home staff booklet.”
I shrug, smiling as we both hop out of the Jeep. I watch him pause midstep, looking out into his pasture where the horses are.
“Holy shit, the fence is fixed.” Crash looks to me then back to the fence. Long gone is the white electrical rope, replaced with a brand-new wood fence. Not only here but where other old boards needed replacing.
Epic comes around from the new red car he bought off Wade, the bartender.
“I realized I never said sorry for breaking the fence last Christmas,” Epic calls out as he walks closer to us. “Instead of saying it, I wanted to prove to you that I meant it.”
Crash looks flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open.
“Can I ask how that even happened?” Neither of them has said, but it’s come up a time or two. “Too soon?” I look between the two brothers, scared I may have opened up old wounds. They have been getting along, and Epic has been coming around our house more often than when he first moved back.
Crash chuckles before they give each other a pat on the back as a makeshift hug.
“Epic thought he was a better farmer than me and lassoed my fence down then decided to throw the wood into the fire.”
“It was a dumbass idea that involved a lot of drinks. Sorry, man. Not that it excuses it, but I was in a bad place and didn’t know how to deal with the stress of it all.”
“Apology accepted. But next time, I expect the fixing part to happen right away.”
“I can do that.” Epic nods.
“Why is everyone here?” Crash asks.
“I decided to have a party for the fence being back together,” I finally shout. My hands clap together, and I laugh. “Everyone is in the back at the fire already.”
Crash walks up to me, pulling me in tight. “I told you that you would become one of us. I believe you didn’t believe in parties for just any little old thing.” His breath grazes my ear, causing goose bumps to scatter along my skin.
“What can I say? You and this town are a package deal. I could never give you up.”
“Good.” He bends his head down, pulling my bottom lip between his.
“I love you,” I whisper before kissing him long and slow. We don’t care who’s around.
“I’m just going to go now,” is heard in the distance as Epic makes his escape.
“I love you too,” Crash whispers back between kisses.
Please continue reading for a sneak peek into Southern Hearts. This is unedited and subject to change.
SOUTHERN HEARTS: AN OAKPORT BEACH ROMANCE
CHAPTER 1
Frankie, my best friend is still fiddling with my long wavy red hair as we step out of her small beat-up white truck. My lips feel sticky with all of the pink lip goo she painted on them. My eyes feel heavy with the fake eyelashes and I can’t stop lowering my halter top that refuses to touch my jeans showing off my belly button. This is not me.
I welcome the freckles that line my nose and cheeks like badges of honor, tonight they’re hidden away just like my heart that’s ripped in two. As a Rachel Platten song states this is my come back. I need to show everyone that I am okay – so they stop walking around like I’m some broken girl who they can’t be themselves around. I hate how they look at me differently now. I hate how they act. The only one who doesn’t is Frankie. She gets it. I’m not the first girl to have a broken engagement. Frankie has had three. I’m just happy my engagement didn’t go any further, knowing what I do now.
Taking a deep breath I plaster on my smile, square my shoulders and hope tonight will help to take away the pain. We’re two towns over at the closest bar that has a dance floor. (Our town, Oakport Beach is too small to have one of these.) It helps to know that if I make a fool of myself no one will be here to see it.
“Well, aren’t you the prettiest Sunday day school teacher I know.” Frankie’s brother Danger says sliding up to us. He has on his signature wrangler jeans that hug his ass perfectly, big belt buckle, and a button-up shirt, with its arms, rolled up showcasing his large muscular forearms. He has a drink already in hand that he tilts up with his greeting. My feet paused at his compliment, and that familiar warmth circles my heart. His deep blue eyes hold mine, and I almost forget that Danger is the biggest flirt in Oakport Beach.
If I were new to town and Danger walked up to me saying this I would swoon and attach myself to him instantly. But I have known him since I was six years old. His complements are as abundant as water but they mean nothing. He’s the town’s flirt. He’s made it more than clear that I’m only his baby sister’s best friend. And my heart is in no shape to give its self out again, not that he’s ever been interested.
I refuse to notice things about him like how his abs clench when he’s on his practice bull riding equipment or the fact he always pays me a compliment when we see each other. I know I’m not supposed to notice how he smells like hay and pine most of the time. I stopped caring about these things long ago; realizing Danger only wanted to protect me like a little sister and loved to insert himself into my business only to use it against me later.
“I thought rodeo season was becoming too busy for you to make it back home?” Frankie says beside me, the disdain in her voice gives away her annoyance that Danger and his friends are here tonight.
He shrugs and begins to defend himself, “I made it home for the bachelor party–” his words die on the tip of his tongue and he looks at me, then averts his eyes quickly.
This is what people do. My canceled wedding comes up in some sort of fashion and they shrink away, scared that they have said something wrong. I thought Danger would be different. He’s been too nice. I want what we had before, when he’d tease me relentlessly for no good reason other than to get under my skin.
I hit Danger in his stone-like chest, “Don’t you start being one of those people,” I scold him. Dangers eyes search mine, his thick brows ruffled, his lips slightly sliding together like he does when he concentrates.
“I’m your best friend,” he says on a sigh, “I would never be one of those people.” He sounds hurt that I would even say this.
Maybe I am being too hard on him, on everyone. I don’t even know anymore. All I know is that my heart feels like it’s been shredded and I don’t know how to repair it. For the first time in my life, I feel lost. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. I hate the church whispers that stay behind my back. I hate this need to escape everything in my life.
Frankie clears her throat narrowing her eyes on him.
“Face it, sis, I’m the one who introduced the two of you. I saw her first, talked to her first, and had the first play date, making me the best friend.” He smirks at Frankie while giving me a wink. That’s Danger for you. “I’m here to guarantee that Haven has a kick-ass night.”
“Yeah, we are!” Crash, Danger’s real best friend and cousin says strolling up with Wade, the local bartender, and Ruben the baker in town.
That reminds me I owe Ruben money for the cake he made. I can feel my eyes prickle with wetness as I try to fight it off. Too much wedding thoughts are not a good thing. Danger pulls me hard into his solid chest. My feet trip over themselves at his sudden actions and I’m left standing awkwardly, my breasts pushed against his muscular chest. I fight it not wanting the attention but he refuses to let me go. Only then, when I embrace it, I can feel like I’m able to breathe regularly again.
But it’s part of my whole cycle, I loosen up and more tears escape me. Squeezing my eyes shut I remind myself I will not cry anymore because of that selfish jerk.
“See, she’s so grateful she has tears in her eyes, and that’s why I’m the best friend.” I hide in Danger’s strong hold hoping everyone believes him; otherwise I’m going to humiliate myself once again.
I’m never falling in love again. There is no reason for it. I can inspire my Sunday school kids and make a difference in their lives. Keeping my eyes tight, I remind myself, I can do this. Slowly my eyes loosen and open up again, the tears at bay, before stepping away from his strong embrace. Placing on my fake smile again, “Thank you, guys.”
“Danger, you get us drinks while I take our girl dancing,” Frankie directs, pulling my hand toward the half-full floor.
Danger is giving me his lethal smile. The one that ropes in every girl he has ever given it to. “Haven, you need to break out of your shell,” he’s talking so close to me that I can smell his cologne. The way he looks at me is more like he wants to break me out of my clothes. Tonight is about moving on, and not making mistakes, I have to remind myself. As his name states, Danger is the biggest danger to me. He says all the right things, makes me feel safe and cherished, but it means nothing. I’ve been a victim of this too many times in my life.
I have to push myself away, “How do you propose I do that?” I ask.
My hand instinctively closes the distance by going to his chest and slowly trailing down his shirt. My head is screaming for me not to touch him, even though it’s innocent. I stepped back to get away from his trance, but it doesn’t seem to be working.
“By riding the bull,” he says it like this is fact and a no brainer. My head is right in the gutter. I look right down at his crotch thinking about his bull. I giggle, this is not me, but I like this girl. These fruity drinks are what I needed to have some fun.
He takes a step away distancing us and points his hand, “That bull.”
My heart sinks that he doesn’t return my mediocre flirtation and creates more space between us. I should have known better.
A mechanical bull turns and bucks around as people try to stay on for the eight seconds. No one makes it, falling into the plush cushion surrounding the area.
“Not happening,” I bring up my finger waving it to say no.
He ignores me, pushing me forward. My feet hardly move as he brings me closer to the area. “The line is far too big.” I protest.
“I can fix that,” with confidence Danger starts weaving us in through the crowd, “This girl was just left at the altar,” he tells the crowd, making me groan. Danger has never been the sensitive kind.
“Not really,” I mumble, not that anyone can hear me with the music and all the chatter around. The crowd parts, allowing Danger to push me to the front. He never has had a problem with getting what he wants, case in point. He asks and people jump to it.
“Danger, I can’t,” Turning I try to get away. I must look like a scared little cat.
“Here’s the deal. You stay on for eight seconds, you move in with me. You fall off you can move in with your parents.”
Here I thought everyone would be scared to talk about my doomed nuptials. Maybe that would have been better.
“Haven, you have nowhere to live, you can’t stay on Frankie’s couch forever. It’s time you start moving on and stop wallowing. Your time for sulking is up.”
Ouch, harsh. I can’t hold my smile any longer. I go to leave, needing to get home before the waterworks start all again. “Aren’t you tired of crying,” he says softer, but still pushes to me toward the mechanical bull, until the massive foam padding is at my feet.
“Don’t let that asshole, define who you become.” He says behind me into my ear. I hate that he has a point. Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to take a chance.
“Eight seconds?” I confirm to him. Let’s be honest, no one wants to move back into their parent’s house after they’ve moved out.
With shaky legs, I crawl up and stand next to the fake bull. I look at it, deciding the best way to get on it. With zero grace I try jumping. I sprawl my body over it so my one foot is over over just enough to help pull myself. I hold the knobby thing on the seat, lifting one arm, as I have seen Danger do so many times. The mechanical bull starts slow, going up and down as it does a small circle. Each second the tempo goes faster, that red cushion under me coming closer to my face with each dip. How does Danger do this for a living? I’m scared, but more scared of falling. It looks like it would hurt.
Up, down and turn, my body is being jerked around. I have to fight with dear life to stay on until gravity wins out. I fall hitting my head on the side of the mechanical bull. I don’t even feel the cushion from under me.
OTHER BOOKS BY EMILY BOWIE
You can find all of these titles with Kindle Unlimited
Bennett Brothers Series
Recklessly mine (book #1)
Recklessly Forbidden (book #2)
Recklessly Devoted (book #3)
Steele Family Series
Stolen Moments (book #1) (Shay & Luke) Brother’s best friend romance
Moonlight Moments (Book #2) (Kellen & Sloan) Insta love
Bittersweet Moments (book #3) (Brax & Raya) Secret baby
Whisky Moments (book #4) (Rhett & Camilla) Enemies to lovers, Rock star romance
All books are designed to be read as a standalone. Although, characters do have a reoccurring role in each book.
Standalones:
Pretty, Twisted Lies (Kiptyn’s book)
Kiptyn McGrath:
Kellie Dare was never meant to be mine. We existed in two different worlds. Mine was dark, dangerous and unpredictable. Her’s held prestige, wealth and promise. I was never her white knight, but allowed her to believe it until the day she forgot she was mine. I quickly became the villain who would stop at nothing to keep her.
Oakport Beach Series
Crashing Heart Coming September 23, 2020 (Crash & Piper’s story) Sumer fling/ falling for your boss romance
Southern Hearts late 2020 (Danger & Haven’s story) Best friend’s older brother romance
Frankie’s story (Title TBA) coming 2021
Dear Reader,
I started to write this book at the start of COVID. During this time I began to read more romantic comedies that were fun and flirty, and soon after I started to write in this direction. I began writing this book while I was still writing, Twisted, Pretty Lies, (A darker romance.) This whole series took off for me this summer. While I was completing edits on Crashing Hearts, I wrote Southern Hearts the second book in this series. Each book is designed as a complete standalone. (I promise!) I hope you love Oakport Beach as I do.
HONEST, heartfelt reviews are priceless to authors and mean the whole world. I read each and every one. If you have a moment please consider leaving a review for Crashing Hearts.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Kayla, my incredible editor: Your insight is always appreciated. Thank you for all of your hard work you do!
Sara, Jerilyn, and Becky my beta readers: You read my unpolished words and give me honest feedback. Without your honestly my books would never be as good. Thank you for taking the time to help me with Crashing Hearts.
Melissa: Thank you for being my final eyes on Crashing Hearts before I sent it into the editor. You help find small details that I have missed.
Karina my proof-reader: Thank you for always making time for my books. I greatly appreciate it!
Thank you to Jersey Girl Design for this amazing cover and teasers. You took my vision and made it spectacular. This is one of my favorite covers of all time.
Thank you to Give Me Books for running my release!
Bloggers thank you for participating and helping spread the word about my books! You are a huge help in all of my releases.
Thank you to my reviewers. You are gold to an author. We could not do what we do without those reviews. Thank you for taking you
r time in leaving one.
To my readers, thank you for being here. Picking up this book and taking a chance on me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emily Bowie is from a small town in Western Canada. She has been making characters come to life through her writing since she was old enough to put her thoughts on paper. She loves her white wine cold, her heels red, and her books spicy.
She married her high school sweetheart and they have two amazing children.
When she is not writing she can be found reading a good book, making digital scrapbooks, and being physically active—whether it is at the gym, going for a walk, or playing /keep up with her children.
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