by A. M. Wilson
Copyright © 2021 by A. M. Wilson
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 is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or purely coincidental.
Editing: Jenny Sims Editing4Indies
Cover Design: T. E. Black Designs
(https://www.teblackdesigns.com)
Contents
Books By A. M. Wilson
Playlist
About This Book
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
Epilogue
What To Read Next
Also by A. M. Wilson
About the Author
Books By A. M. Wilson
Arrow Creek Series
Where We Meet Again
When Morning Comes
What Tears Us Down
Where Our Turn Begins
The Revive Series
Unleashing Sin
Redesigning Fate
Resurrecting Her
His Deliverance (A Novella)
Revive: The Series
Westbridge Series
Pitch Dark
Broad Daylight
Standalone
Indisputable
To anyone who’s fallen into a hard situation.
Past, present, or future.
I see you.
This book is for you.
Playlist
“If the World Was Ending” JP Saxe, Julia Michaels
“Wonder” Shawn Mendes
“If You Love Her” Forest Blakk
“Anyone” Justin Bieber
“What Love Is” Tom Gregory
“Glad You Exist” Dan + Shay
“Unhuman” Quinn Lewis
“Tell Her You Love Her” Echosmith feat. Mat Kearney
“ilym” John K, Rosie
“Already There” Jasmine Thompson
“Could Be Good” Kat Cunning
“Moon” Jonah Kagen
“Like That” JP Saxe
“Rivals” Marc Scibilia
“Off My Face” Justin Bieber
“Holy” Justin Bieber, Chance The Rapper
“Butterflies” MAX, Ali Gatie
Listen On Spotify
About This Book
Rhett Senova could charm a woman out of her panties and in the next breath, thank her mother for dinner.
Smooth doesn’t even begin to cover his moves. But the hottest playboy in Arrow Creek wasn’t always this way.
He had dreams of a one-woman future, and the cry of his firstborn brought him to tears.
He never thought his wife would cheat on him with her boss.
Each day is a feud over the dream home he had built for his ex and learning to raise his young son without the jaded lens now coloring his world.
Starting over in his thirties isn’t on his agenda. Not now that he’s raised impenetrable walls. His ex left the sour taste of infidelity in his mouth, and he’s not sure he can trust anyone new.
That is until he meets a vision passing through town and nearly gets mauled by her she-demon dog.
Her sassy wit makes other women seem inadequate, along with those luscious curves and burgundy curls.
The fact she hides beneath her tough exterior that she might be in trouble sends up red flags he’d be smart not to ignore.
Using his charm to win over the pit bull is the easy part. The question is whether he wants to win over the guarded redhead too.
1
Rhett
Tommy blows raspberries, and his chubby arms wave as I send the toy car flying across the carpeted floor to the other side of the room.
“Gain!” His hands smack together. I catalog the pearly teeth peeking through his grin, knowing the next time I see him will bring changes. I ruffle the soft sandy hair atop his head.
“Sorry, bud. All done.” I soften my words with a mirroring smile and plant a loud smack on his cheek. The fit of baby giggles is music to my ears. What’s left of my heart beats solely for the little guy in this room. Without him, not much purpose remains.
I leave him where he sits to retrieve his pink Hot Wheels car, a color he picked that his mother refuses to let him have, and zoom it back in his direction. Another round of squeals floats through the room and chases away the ghosts.
While he’s occupied with the toy, I pack the remainder of our things in preparation for check-out. Nora will be here at twelve on the dot, prompt as always when it comes to spiting me with our son.
No matter. I refuse to let her gloat at my circumstances. She may win our current battle, but the fucking war will be mine. Let her see me leaving a hotel room after spending one of my nights with Tommy. I’ll do it with a smirk. Over my dead body will she see how deep her talons score and her poison infects.
I’ll do whatever I can to keep her venom from touching our son.
Overnight bags slung over my shoulder, I snag the squirmy two-year-old beneath his armpits and toss him in the air.
“Ready?”
The soft pat of his baby hand on my cheek never fails to stutter my heart.
“Yah, Dah!”
As does the gentle baby voice with which he utters my name. His delayed speech concerned me that it had to do with my abrupt separation from his mother, but his doctor assured me that some children simply take their time. Rather than stress, I cherish every word out of his mouth because the next time I see him, he’ll have added more.
Under the guise of blowing a raspberry on his neck, I inhale the last scent of my son to hold me over until next week. Knowing I can’t do a damn thing to see him sooner unless I move back into the house occupied by his mother.
“Love you, little man.”
With him tight to my hip, I exit our hotel room. These last few moments together on our trek to his mother are the hardest. Sometimes, he cries at our hand-offs. Other times, he’s oblivious. His unpredictable response makes schooling my own emotions difficult. I’m not too manly to shed a tear for my distressed son, regardless of what judgment Nora casts my way. His pain hurts me. The fact I’m not allowed to soothe him is like a dagger splitting my ribs. A lingering ache I deal with in week-long increments.
Phone to her ear, she prattles on the line with a sneer as soon as we step off the elevator. On par with every Sunday for the past six weeks, she acts as if this is a giant inconvenience. I’d like to remind her how inconvenient it was to catch her riding her boss's cock. Not that she cares. Nora gives not that first fuck about anyone except herself and Tommy.
My lips conn
ect with the side of Tommy’s head while I’m still steps away from his mother, knowing from prior experience she’ll take him the moment he’s within reach.
“I love you. Be good for Mommy.” My low voice ensnares Nora’s crinkled-browed attention. She ends her call and drops her phone into her open purse. She probably assumes I’m encouraging him to be a terror. As if this loving guy could do wrong.
“It’s twelve-oh-one.” Her sneer only serves as a painful reminder that I once found her attractive. I want to crinkle my own brow as I rove over her face, noting the new lines she’s going to use my money to fill with Botox.
As high school sweethearts, I wanted nothing more than to watch her age along my side, reveling in each new gray hair and line, laughing at the added ten, fifteen, twenty-five pounds as we lived a plentiful life.
It would seem money can’t buy everything, love isn’t all we need, and even a big dick can’t keep a wandering woman like Nora satisfied.
Not to brag about what I’m packing.
Her strawberry-blond hair rests at the nape of her neck in a low ponytail, and a few loose tendrils frame her face. The spark in her dark brown eyes died years ago. Slim and put together, her body looks exactly as it did when we were sixteen. I can’t deny her beauty. Though, it’s a shame God doesn’t strike down adulterers and steal their best assets. Not that I’m much different. Twelve months is all it took for me to go from a one-woman man to fucking my way through half the town.
We all deal with pain in our own way.
I don’t respond to her antagonizing remark as I hand over our son. The whimper as she grasps him beneath his arms compresses my heart like a fist. Little chubby arms reach to me, and I lock down every muscle in my body in order not to take him and flee the damn state.
“Same time next week.” The question sounds stated, leaving no room for arguments.
“You’ll still be at this hotel?”
My thighs burn. The need to move overwhelms me. “Yep.”
“You haven’t found your own place?” The disparaging mention scores across my heart.
Arms crossed over my chest, I lean in. The words hiss between clenched teeth. “Maybe if my bitch of wife didn’t fuck me over, steal my own house, and drain my accounts, I wouldn’t have to live in a fucking hotel.”
She rears back as if I slapped her, and her eyes dart around the pristine lobby. I wouldn’t put it past her to play the battered woman card. I would never lay a finger on her, but she’s shown me over the past year that she’s not above doing what she needs to get ahead. With that in mind, I drop the diaper bag at her feet and flick my shades over my eyes. She’s no longer privy to the pain she causes.
“One week.”
No response from her is powerful enough to stop me from strolling around her and out the circular door into the noon sunshine. I bleep the locks on my Jeep, toss my duffel in the back, and fire the engine.
Then I wait.
Nora strolls out five minutes later, bouncing my boy on her hip. She aims a smile at him. He’s undoubtedly the only person left on the planet to receive her genuine attention. I wait patiently for her to load him up and take off. Five more minutes pass in silence. My hand itches to turn the radio dial, but I force myself to sit. To feel. To become it before it becomes me.
The one and only rogue droplet splashes from the arch of my cheek to my jeans before I can swipe it away. With nobody around to hear it, I unshackle the bark of agony. The hounds of hell scour the inside of my Jeep, feeding on my pain and begging for an encore.
A palm connects with my steering wheel, and my face contorts as I swipe the other through my hair. I hiss an excruciating breath. A year is a long fucking time to live on this precipice. The struggle she drags me through in order to wring everything from me. Taking my heart and dreams isn’t enough. She won’t stop until she has my home, my money, and my kid in her control.
The fight leaks from my fingertips first, feeling returns to the digits after a tingling existence. Back under control, I shift gears and exit the lot. The direction steers me to the outskirts of town, back to my temporary home.
After ten minutes of mindless driving, I arrive. Home sweet fucking home. I direct my Jeep to the edge, execute a three-point turn, and reverse into the farthest spot at the back. This position provides an uninhibited view of the expansive space. I remove my jumpstart generator from the glove box and plug in my phone in preparation for the night.
Either I’ll find someone’s bed to warm at Calypso’s, the local watering hole, or I’ll spend another night sleeping beneath the stars. Reminiscent of camping trips enjoyed during my childhood.
The former lost its appeal long ago, but I wouldn’t have made it through winter without the option. Leaving my home in early March was piss-poor timing, but when Nora paraded the man she’d cheated on me with through my own fucking living room, I’d had enough.
A week into what I hoped was a temporary arrangement at the Arrow’s Inn Hotel, my cards declined. Nora had opened new accounts and left mine drained. With nothing more than several hundred-dollar bills in my wallet, I wouldn’t have lasted a week’s stay. I’d already slept with a couple of women since I found my wife cheating, so what were a few more? In exchange for a sexual release, they provided me with a warm bed.
Nobody knows of my current status, and I’d like to keep it that way. My friends assume I’m nothing more than a playboy out on the prowl post a lengthy separation. Asking them for help isn’t an option. Law helped me last year with building that fucking monster dream home Nora’s kept in her clutches. With his own home construction underway, I can’t force my way into his rambler when he and Cami are already cramped and busy.
And Nathan has a new baby, a new wife, and two houses to sell. Not to mention I once hooked up with his wife, Kiersten, prior to them getting together. The very definition of uncomfortable.
I’m not proud of the man I’ve become, but finding my high school sweetheart being plowed by her boss hit my ego with a fucking sledgehammer.
The assumption is always of young girls dreaming of the perfect family and the perfect life. Not here. I had the dreams. The perfect plan. Meeting Nora in high school initiated a chain reaction of hopes for my future.
Take over my grandfather’s extermination business.
Get married.
Build our dream home.
Start a family.
I pictured my life with stark clarity from the day we traded in our V cards with one another. I was on the fast track of getting everything I wanted.
Until she ruined it without reason.
I glance from the black screen of my phone out the windshield in contemplation of what’s next. Sleeping in my Jeep supplies me with too many moments to stew on the past. The flames of anger stoke constant red embers in wait of their moment to flame bright and burn.
Speaking of flames.
Two spaces over, a head of wavy hair the deepest shade of red I’ve ever seen emerges. Immediately after the bobbing curls catch my attention, the rest of her materializes from beyond the driver’s door of a ten-year-old white Lexus. I cup my jaw in contemplation of the rounded hourglass figure. One that comes straight from nature with a bit of food appreciation to give it the perfect softness. Pretty sure my tongue lolls out of my mouth like a caricature at the vision of high-waisted jeans and the crop top she’s working.
Fuck. Me.
There’s nothing sexier than a woman confident with her body. I don’t care if she’s a size two or twenty-two. And this woman, closer to the latter range, radiates her confidence.
As much as temptation encourages me to jump out and smooth talk my way into her car and her bed, I stay put and watch the vision cross the truck stop parking lot and enter the convenience store ahead.
I spent half my life being proud of the fact I’d only ever been with my wife. I wore the badge with honor, not wanting to be like all the other men.
At this moment, with my sights set on an absolute goddess? I can�
��t be more glad that Nora fucked it all up.
2
Evie
The afternoon sun blazes behind my rear window, casting an orangish glow across the dash. My open window gusts warm air in my face to help me remain awake, in addition to the air-conditioning on full blast.
Grittiness scratches my eyes after two days of straight driving. Tears long ago evaporated, but a red blotchiness encircles the drooping lids. If I don’t pull over soon, I’ll fall asleep and possibly crash into a ditch. Considering the recent turns in my life, that may not be the worst outcome.
A call rings through the dash, the name flashing on my radio screen, and I jab the button on the steering wheel.
“Hello?”
“Tell me where you are.” The panicked voice of Eric, my brother, fills the confines of my car and incites a roar in my gut.
“You don’t need to know.”
“I don’t like you out there alone.”
I scoff. “I don’t need you to rescue me.”
“Evie.” The pain in the utterance slices me wide open.
“You know this is my only option. I’m not moving across the ocean, and if I tell you, you’ll just tell him again like last time.”
“I’m so sorry.” The roar of wind nearly steals his apology, but I catch the tortured whisper.
