by Ryan, Lexi
Contents
Note from the Author
Every Little Promise
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Every Little Piece of Me
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Other Books by Lexi Ryan
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Every Little Piece of Me © 2020 by Lexi Ryan
Every Little Promise © 2020 by Lexi Ryan
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author except by reviewers, who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to institutions or persons, living or dead, is used fictitiously or purely coincidental.
Cover design © 2020 by Hang Le
Cover photo © 2020 by Sara Eirew
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-940832-13-5
Print ISBN: 978-1-940832-14-2
Created with Vellum
Nina, this alpha’s for you.
About Every Little Piece of Me
It’s not every day you’re invited to your wife’s wedding . . . as a guest.
The first time I saw Brinley Knox, she was crying, draped in a ridiculous pink tulle dress for her sweet sixteen, and cursing the boy who’d broken her heart.
I was the hired help, a teenage charity case.
She was the daughter of the wealthiest family in Orchid Valley.
I knew a girl like Brinley was off-limits. That didn’t stop me from kissing her. Or from promising that if she were ever mine, I’d never let her go.
The last time I saw Brinley, she was sleeping, tangled in the sheets of my Vegas penthouse, my diamond glittering on her finger.
I returned three hours later to an empty bed, the ring on the dresser, and a goodbye note.
We haven’t spoken in the six months since, but I’m not the kind of guy who’d file for a divorce he doesn’t want.
Until I got this damn invitation, it never occurred to me that Brinley didn’t remember our impulsive Vegas nuptials.
It’s time to return to Orchid Valley and remind the bride-to-be that I’m a man who keeps his promises.
Every Little Piece of Me is a sexy, standalone second-chance romance in Lexi Ryan’s all-new Orchid Valley series. It includes the prequel, Every Little Promise, for your convenience.
Note from the Author
First, thank you so much for buying Every Little Piece of Me! I’m so excited to share this new series with you. I hope you love the town of Orchid Valley and its cast of characters as much as I do.
I included Every Little Promise for your convenience. Please feel free to skip past it if you already enjoyed it as a free download. Or read it again if you can’t get enough of Marston’s Vegas seduction!
I hope you enjoy Marston and Brinley’s story. Thank you for reading!
Love,
Lexi
Chapter One
Marston
It’s been more than ten years since Brinley Knox ripped out my heart, and I still see her everywhere—pumping gas in Orange County, waiting tables in Toronto, riding a Spin bike in a Manhattan fitness center, and, one desperately lonely night, working the pole at an Atlanta gentlemen’s club.
Tonight, she’s sitting at the bar at my favorite Vegas nightclub, wearing a little black dress and sipping a martini.
“Incoming,” my friend Alec says, his elbow digging into my side. “Damn, she’s fine.”
I struggle to pull my attention off the sexy brunette—a doppelganger of my first love—and follow my friend’s gaze. There’s a blonde sauntering toward me with a martini in one hand and a glass tumbler in the other. She’s hot as hell in a skirt that would test indecent exposure laws anywhere other than Vegas and has the kind of long, toned legs that should send my imagination running wild.
And I have zero interest.
“All yours,” I tell Alec.
He grunts out a dry laugh. “She only has eyes for you, I’m afraid.”
My attention’s already back on the brunette at the bar, and I will her to turn around. The way she’s sitting sideways in her seat, legs crossed at the knee, head turned away, I can see more thigh than face. While I typically wouldn’t complain about the view, I need confirmation that it’s not her.
I should let it go. It’s never her. She’s just on my mind because it’s September twenty-first.
“The bartender told me you were drinking bourbon,” the blonde says when she reaches our table. She offers me the tumbler.
From his post across the room, the bartender gives me a curt nod. His grin says it all. He thinks he did me a favor by sending this woman over. Maybe some nights I would agree, but tonight I’m too distracted by the Ghost of Christmas Past.
“It’s Knox bourbon,” the blonde says. “I thought you might want to get a taste of how they make it where I come from.”
That gets my attention, and I frown as I swivel my gaze back to her. “What?”
“Knox bourbon,” she says, her tongue dancing along the rim of her martini glass. “Black label. You’ll love it.”
I’ve spent the last ten years steering clear of anything with the Knox name, but if this woman is from the home of Knox bourbon . . .
I take the glass. “Thanks. What’s your name?”
“I’m Savannah.” She offers a delicate hand, and I shake it briefly and even manage a smile before swirling the bourbon under my nose.
Some people think all bourbon smells the same, but a true connoisseur can smell the difference in every variety. Knox bourbon smells like oak and pear with notes of first love, stolen kisses, and heartache.
“Savannah.”
“My friends call me Savvy,” she says.
I scan my memory for the name. “You’re from Orchid Valley?”
“Well, from Atlanta originally, but I live in the OV now. You know it?”
I open my mouth to explain I lived there briefly in high school, but every word disappears from my mind when the brunette across the room finally turns. Once I see her full profile, the rest of the world falls away.
I’m not imagining things. Dark hair, high cheekbones, lips that can’t possibly be as soft as they are in my memory. Brinley Knox.
“That’s my friend Brinley,” Sa
vannah says, following my gaze. “Her parents actually own the Knox distillery in Orchid Valley.”
“The Brinley Knox,” Alec says, and now we’re all staring at her. “She’s smoking hot,” he mutters.
I shoot him a look, and he holds up both hands, his face a mask of innocence.
“How do you know Brinley?” Savannah asks him. She turns to me. “Do you know her too?”
As if she senses our attention on her, Brinley turns toward us, and her spine goes rigid. Her lips part, and when she meets my eyes, I can’t breathe.
I’m already out of my seat and heading her way.
“Marston,” Alec calls after me, “are you sure you should—”
“Marston?” Savannah scrambles to keep up with my long strides. She grabs my arm. “You’re Marston Rowe?”
“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”
She tries to hold me tighter, but I shrug off her touch, not taking my eyes off Brinley. Fuck me. It’s really her. I keep my gaze locked on those blue eyes with every step closer, oblivious to everyone around me.
The sight of her after all these years is both a punch to the gut and a balm to old wounds. This is the bitter and the sweet. This is the freefall into memories of first love and regrets of things left unsaid.
When I step up to the bar beside her, her eyes are all over my face, my chest, and down to my waist before slowly roaming back up. It’s as if she needs to catalog every inch of me to convince herself I’m real—or maybe that’s what I want to believe, and she’s really sitting there wishing me away. “Marston?”
“Brinley.” Her name is a hushed whisper off my lips. The way you speak in church or after witnessing a miracle. Because damn. It’s really her.
She hurt me in a way I never thought anyone could. I was too young and too proud to fight for what we had, so I let her go. I walked away, even when every part of me wanted to hold on. But now, taking in her big eyes and that soft skin, staring at those lips I spent hours worshipping . . . I’d swallow all my pride if it came with a taste of her.
But Brinley’s gaze isn’t like her friend’s. Savannah was a woman on a mission, ready to seduce and be seduced, whereas Brinley’s appraisal is all about checking in on an old friend.
I allow myself an extra beat to take in the tan skin of her thigh, the low back of her dress, and her red-bottomed fuck-me heels.
“Brinley, look who I found.” Savannah’s practically panting as she smacks a hand on my shoulder. “I’d like to take a moment to make it clear I had no idea who he was when I went over there.”
Brinley blinks away from me and smirks at her friend. “Marston was the . . .”
“The man candy I was ogling? Clearly!” Savannah shrugs and gives me a quick once-over. “I mean, can you blame me?”
Brinley gapes at her friend. “Savvy!”
Savannah chuckles and then backs away. “I think I’ll go chat with Marston’s buddy and give you two time to play catch-up.”
The way Brinley bites her lip makes me think she’s not sure this is the best plan, but her friend slips away before she can object. I don’t miss her hard swallow as she turns her attention back to me. “If I’d known you were the one she’d set out to seduce . . .” I wait, wanting the rest of that thought, but she doesn’t finish. “You look good.” She laughs awkwardly. “As Savvy already established.”
“So do you.” My gaze dips to take her in again. “More beautiful than ever.”
Her cheeks tinge red. Brinley Knox, only living heir to the Knox bourbon empire, has the world thrown at her feet, but she still blushes at compliments from the delinquent orphan who stole her first kiss. “Thank you.”
“Happy birthday.”
Her eyes widen, as if she didn’t expect me to remember, which is . . . ridiculous. This is more than her birthday. It’s our day. It’s the day everything began for us. “Savvy surprised me with a trip to Vegas. We’re only here for the weekend, but it’s more than I’ve done in forever. She says I work too much, which is really code for me being boring, and she insisted . . .” She picks up her drink and takes a generous sip. “I’m rambling.”
“I don’t mind.” The words come out rough and reveal too much. Like how glad I am to see her. Like how much I’ve missed her.
She looks around. “I’d invite you to have a seat, but this place is packed.”
“You can come to my table. We reserved it, so it’s ours for the night.”
Brinley scans the room until she finds Savannah sitting with Alec in our semicircular booth in the corner. Alec’s already gotten her a fresh martini, and as we watch, he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. “Is it just you and your friend, or . . . ?”
Another sentence I’d love for her to finish. Does she want to know if I’m here with a date? Does she wonder if I found love again after I walked away from ours? I’ve wondered the same about her a thousand times, but I always stopped myself from looking her up. Why pick at old scars?
But now that she’s in front of me, I can’t help myself. I inspect her left hand, fixated on that naked ring finger. It doesn’t mean anything. Just because she’s not wearing a ring doesn’t mean she’s not involved with someone. And it’s not like one Vegas run-in means we get a second chance.
This doesn’t change anything.
She slides off the stool, shaking her head as she hitches her purse over her shoulder. She’s a few inches taller in those heels but still barely reaches my chin. “This is crazy. You don’t owe me any answers, and no one would blame you if you hated my guts.”
“Wait.” I reach out to grab her by the wrist, but I remember myself and only let my fingers skim the delicate bones there. “Where are you going?”
She shrugs. “To tell Savvy I’m leaving, then to the room to have a meltdown and maybe room service?”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
She laughs. “For the room service or the meltdown?”
I exhale slowly. The reunion I fantasized about definitely didn’t involve her having a meltdown at the sight of me, but hell—I’m not feeling particularly steady myself. “Either? Both?” I take a chance and step closer but shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her. The decade between us doesn’t change the fact that she pushed me away. “It’s been too long, and if I’m not going to see you again for another ten years, there’s no way a couple of minutes standing at a bar will be enough.”
The look in her eyes as she considers this undoes something in me. Is that hope? Is it longing? Because there’s nothing in the energy snapping between us that makes me believe she wants me to walk away.
I swallow. “I’m not here with anyone else. Even if I were, I think we both know I’m enough of an ass that I’d choose to spend my night with you instead.”
She scoffs, and she probably thinks I’m blowing smoke and trying to charm her, but every word is true.
“I have an idea.” I watch her carefully. “If you can put off the meltdown for a few hours, I can take care of feeding you. What if we share some drinks, catch up a little, and do that whole reminiscing thing without any of the awkwardness I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be feeling right now?”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth in a gesture I’ve replayed in my memories a million times—Brinley in my arms, my fingers threaded through her dark hair, her eyes on mine as I lean in to sample what she’s tasting. “What if I just want to sit across from you and pretend you never left?” That hits me like a blow to the gut. I left. It’s true. But only because she begged me to. She must see something in my face at that, because she flinches and drops her gaze to the floor. “Sorry. That’s not fair.”
When she keeps her head bowed, I take her hand and skim my thumb across her knuckles. The contact is like a jolt of adrenaline through my system. Can’t you feel that? I want to ask, but when she looks up and meets my eyes, I know she does. “Tonight can be whatever you want it to be,” I say. Just let it be with me. “You make the rules.
”
She hesitates a beat, then smiles. “Okay then, let’s go to your table.” Pink blooms on her cheeks as if she’s just agreed to spend the night in bed with me, and I have to physically stop my thoughts from going down that track of what if.
I mocked Alec mercilessly for reserving this table—it cost a small fortune—but as I lead Brinley through the packed room, I’m fucking grateful we have it. This all feels like a dream, and I’m afraid if I let Brinley out of my sight, I’ll wake up and never see her again.
“Brinley!” Savannah says when we reach the table. She and Alec are on one side of the booth, and she’s practically in his lap. “This is Alec Hayes, Marston’s business partner and future father of my children.”
I arch a brow at Alec. “You move fast, brother.”
Alec smirks. “She said she wanted her kids to have eyes like mine, so I offered her my DNA.”
I slide in the side opposite them. “Totally reasonable,” I deadpan.
“You two have some sort of consulting firm, right?” Brinley asks, looking between us as she scoots in beside me. “You come in when resorts are in trouble and get them back on track?”
