Irresistible
R.C. Stephens
Contents
Letter to the Reader
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
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Epilogue
The Salvation Society
Books by R.C. Stephens
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 by R.C. Stephens (Irene Cohen)
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.
Resemblance to actual persons and things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover Designer: Sara Eirew
Photographer: Sara Eirew
Editor: Lauren McKellar
Proofread: Christina Gwin
Letter to the Reader
Dear Reader,
I am so excited to bring two worlds together. The character’s from Irresistible are a combination from my best selling military romance, Halo and Corinne Michaels best-selling Salvation Series. Avery Montgomery is a single mother from my novel Halo who lost her husband in an IED explosion. By coincidence her deceased husband’s name is Liam. The reason I bring this up here is that I do refer to Liam Dempsey from Corinne Michaels Salvation Series in my new book and I wanted to prevent any confusion from the start.
A little about Irresistible. . .
It’s crazy but I feel like this book wrote itself. I kid you not. I haven’t written a book this fast, like ever. It was just fate that Avery’s love was meant to be Bennett Sheridan, a SEAL who was injured. I don’t want to give too much away here, but this book is about true love, fate and new beginnings. If this is your first time reading one of my novels then I thank you from the bottom of my heart for choosing this story. I hope you will fall in love right along with Avery and Bennett.
XOXO
RC
Chapter One
Avery
After a long shift at the hospital I come home tired and hungry. I open the door to Jessy’s room. She’s sitting at her desk doing homework. That’s usually where I find my daughter this time of night.
She lifts her head. “Hey, Mom.” Her smile is sweet. Her long blond hair falls over her left shoulder. She’s such a good kid. Grounded, smart, beautiful.
“Hey hon.” I smile back but it’s tired and lacking enthusiasm.
“You look exhausted.” Her lips turn down.
“I am.” I frown too. Every bone in my body hurts.
“What are you working on?” I ask.
“Pre-calc. It’s a pain in my ass,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“We all got to do what we got to do.” I shrug.
“I know,” she answers, exasperation lacing her voice. I ignore it. As long as she’s getting good grades and working toward her future, all is good. “By the way . . . I passed the driving test.”
“Wow! Why didn’t you text me? You said you would try to go with Rory. I thought her mom wasn’t available,” I say.
“Sorry. I wanted to surprise you. Now you can take me driving,” she says, since there is graduated licensing in Jersey.
“I’d love to. Maybe tomorrow after work?” I ask.
“Sounds good,” she says.
“I’m going to shower. I’m beat. I need my bed. Congrats again, honey.” I walk over to her and kiss the top of her head. My daughter can now drive a car. Wow.
“Good night,” she says as she picks up her pencil and continues her homework.
“Good night, sweet pea,” I say softly.
My feet are cramping as I head to my bedroom. I turn the knob on my door.
“Avery, is that you?” Aunt Bee calls from her room.
“Yes,” I say softly. Dammit. I was hoping to go to sleep undetected.
“Dear, would you mind making me and Uncle Jim a tea?” Her voice rises on the word ‘tea’ as if she feels bad for asking.
“Sure.” I turn on my heel.
“Oh, and dear?” she calls out, her voice scratchy and high-pitched.
“Yes?” I answer, trying to hold back my nerves.
“Would you mind making a sandwich? Your shepherd’s pie was a little dry today and we’re hungry,” she says, her voice saccharine. I don’t know why she asks me to cook for them when they complain about my meals all the time. If she can do better, she should do it herself.
“Sure thing, Aunt Bee. Any suggestions for the type of sandwiches you want?” I answer, trying to appease the woman. I’ve almost saved enough money to move out. Jessy and I have stayed here twelve years too long.
“Uncle Jim will take a grilled cheese—he loves the way you fry them up—and I’ll have an egg sandwich,” she says.
I roll my eyes. Freaking hell. I knew she would ask for something complicated when I am dead on my feet.
“No problem.” I grit my teeth together.
As I walk downstairs, the door to Jessy’s room creaks open and the pads of her soft footfalls come up behind me. “What’s up, kiddo?”
“Nothing. I’ll make it for them. You look exhausted.” She sighs.
I exhale too. She’s the one thing I got right. “Thanks, but I’d rather you do your homework,” I answer. You know, so you don’t end up like your mom, having to depend on people who take advantage of you.
“I’m almost done.” She smiles sadly. “You go sit at the kitchen table. I’ll make you a tea,” she says in a sweet, commanding albeit quiet voice.
“What did I do to deserve you?” I ask.
“You’re a great mom. I wish you would just use the money Dad left behind so we could have our own life already. You’re sure not staying here when I leave for college,” she says as I take a seat at the kitchen table. My legs are so tired they feel like two logs and my back is a little sore.
“We have time to worry about that,” I remind her, rubbing my neck. I feel like an old thirty-three-year-old.
“It’ll be here faster than we realize.” She’s right, but I don’t have to admit it. I scoff instead.
Jessy presses the button to start the kettle and pulls a pan out of the drawer. I’m just so proud of her. If only Liam could see what a fine girl we created together.
She places the cup of tea in front of me. I pick it up a
nd inhale the steam. Jessy gets to work on the sandwiches.
“There’s a party tomorrow night at Justin’s house. Is it okay if I go?” she asks.
“It’s a school night,” I remind her.
“It’s a Thursday, and everyone is going.” She looks down at the pan and flips the bread. Her hunched shoulders and pensive brows tell me there is something else going on.
“What is it?” I ask.
She blows out a harsh breath. “Are you some kind of mind reader?” she asks, her tone carries a hint of exasperation.
“Only because I made you, gave birth to you and raised you,” I remind her.
She nods like she’s heard that one before. Her lips quirk on the right side. “Dylan asked me to go with him,” she blurts in a nearly incoherent mumble.
“Who’s Dylan?” I ask. I know all her friends pretty well. They’ve been hanging out together since middle school.
“Dylan Anderson. He’s new. His family just moved here from Australia,” she says with nonchalance. My mind draws a picture of a young Chris Hemsworth holding a surfboard. In my vision, a lot of young women flock around him adoringly. Plus, the kid has an exotic accent. What teenage girl wouldn’t become stupid over that?
I take a slow breath. Jessy is not you, I remind myself. I was a wild child, grasping for love and affection anywhere I could find it. Turned out it wasn’t love I was getting, and it only made me feel emptier. I got pregnant one night at a party and while I don’t regret having Jessy so young, I do wish I had followed a more traditional life route of grow up, go to college, get married and finally, have a kid.
“Mom!” Jessy whisper-shouts, snapping me from my thoughts. “Can I go or not?” She holds the plate with the grilled cheese sandwich in one hand and the egg sandwich in the other. She is responsible, smart and beautiful. She is not me.
“Yes, you can go. Will I get to meet this Dylan?” I ask.
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
I take my tea and follow her up the stairs.
“You’re going in there. It can’t be me. I may dump the sandwiches on their heads or maybe smash them in their faces,” she warns playfully but there is a hint of truth to her words.
She follows me into my room so I can place my tea on the side table next to my bed. I walk back out to the hallway, take both plates from her and place a peck on her cheek.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
“You’re welcome, Mom. Love you. Good night.”
“Love you too.”
Jessy heads into her room and closes her door. I head to my aunt and uncle’s room. They glance at the plates, judgement painted on their raised eyebrows.
Damn it.
I forgot the tea.
“Here are the sandwiches. I’ll run down and bring your teas,” I say, knowing exactly how they like it.
I turn on my heel. It’s not like I’ll get a thank you out of them.
My legs are barely carrying me as I prepare the tea using the already boiled water. Aunt Bee will probably complain it isn’t hot enough.
I head back upstairs my body and mind exhausted. I place each of their teas beside them. “Good night,” I force a smile.
Uncle Jim nods with his mouth full of grilled cheese while Aunt Bee doesn’t even acknowledge me.
So be it.
I saunter back to my room, open my closet door and take down the old brown shoebox sitting on the top shelf. I pull out his letter and read it—a nightly ritual I can’t seem to stop.
Dearest Avery,
It’s funny how life turns out, isn’t it?
We didn’t have some full-blown love affair. I know I didn’t sweep you off your feet or make your heart skip a beat but when push came to shove, we were family. We stood by one another and that meant something to me.
I love you. I loved you, and Lord knows I know I did a bad job of showing it. For that, I’m truly sorry. Maybe it was my messed-up childhood—maybe it was how much my feelings for you scared me.
Leaving you and Jessy each deployment tore me up. I wanted to open up to you and share my feelings each time I left. I tried, believe me, I tried, but there was this concrete wall inside me, tall and strong, a fortress of sorts that prevented me from showing both of you.
I know I erected that wall to protect myself as a kid. That wall kept me from feeling, and that’s what saved me from my brutal childhood. I thought it would continue to save me, but it only divided me from the only family I ever knew. The pain of feeling distant from you and Jessy was like a blade cutting me open slowly, deeply.
I pause, reminding myself to take deep breaths. My chest feels so tight, air is begging to pass through. I fear gripping the letter too tight and it ripping. I would have nothing left of Liam then. Nothing at all.
I try to drag some air into my lungs to release the tension I feel and continue reading.
The sad part is that I know if you’re reading this letter, I’m gone. I never had a chance to make amends. I never had a chance to show you how much you both meant to me. How much I love you. Don’t ever doubt it.
I’m a selfish man, Avery. I never claimed to be anything else, but you, dear wife, hold my heart.
I clutch the worn paper to my chest. His words are piercing and cathartic all at once. Why couldn’t you tell me this when you were alive? How many nights did I cry myself to sleep feeling alone and unloved?
As a glutton for punishment, I continue to read.
I have one last request. I don’t want you to be scared to fall in love. To give your heart. Not every man will be like me. I didn’t hold you dear and it’s my biggest regret. Your heart is so full of love. And Jessy? She is the best of both of us. She deserves a father and you deserve a husband who will cherish the ground you walk on. There is a man out there—believe me. Don’t be scared. If I had a second chance to be a better husband, it would have been me.
Tears flow down my cheeks like a river run wild. His words gut me every time and bring me peace all in one messed up wave of emotion. Gosh, Liam. I didn’t know how to break your walls down. My heart wasn’t warm enough to take a sledgehammer to them. I read on.
My last wish, Avery, is that you give your heart. I need to know that I didn’t completely shatter your trust in men, in love. I will be smiling down on you and Jessy from heaven knowing you are well taken care of. Knowing that another man could give you what I couldn’t.
Love you always and forever,
Liam
I fold the paper and slide it back into its original envelope. It’s been fourteen years since he died, and I still haven’t found love. Sometimes I just think I may be broken.
Liam was right; we didn’t have some whirlwind love affair. We basically went to the same high school and attended a party one Friday night where we both got drunk and had sex. Sad part is, he wasn’t even my first. I had given my virginity to Tony Fantino three months prior. We had dated for a couple months and things just felt right. He made me feel wanted and I confused the intimacy we shared for something more. So I gave him something I could never get back and then he broke up with me a week later.
I finally place the envelope in the brown box and place it back on the top shelf of my closet.
Breathe, Avery. Breathe.
I take a change of clothes and head across the hall to the shower. After going all these years without a man, loneliness has become my best friend. I don’t even believe in love. Sure, I love my daughter, but I’ve never felt heart-pumping excitement over a man—not even Liam. We were too young. Too naïve. Too in too deep.
I try to push my loneliness away to a place that doesn’t make me feel so empty. I finish my shower and slip into my pajamas. Then, like I do on many other nights, I lie alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. Fantasizing about a life where I found love. Where Jessy has a loving father like Liam mentions in his letter.
I take another deep breath. Tomorrow will be better. It’s a lie, but hey, I’ve become good at lying to myself.
Chapter Two
; Bennett
“Maybe we should leave,” Quinn whispers quietly.
“No, man, we should wait. Look at him. He has no one,” Jackson says. “He needs us.”
My eyes are closed but I’m awake. I hear every pitiful word. I’d rather pretend I’m asleep than talk to either of them. I don’t need to see the pity in their eyes. I don’t want to fucking see it. I’m drowning in a boatload of it right now without their help. Problem is, my back is screaming from pain. Flipping to my other side is impossible on my own but it’s what I need to relieve the pressure. Pathetic asshole that I am.
“Things are messed up, man. Ashton is still not trusting me,” Quinn says.
“She’ll come around,” Jackson answers.
Their voices seem more distant now, like maybe they’re on the other side of the room. Maybe I can press the call button for the nurse to come without them noticing. Then, when she comes into the room, she can kick them out. I have nothing to say to either of them. Luckily, the call button is by my hand and I squeeze it. The pain is too much. I need more meds.
It only takes a minute for the door to swing open. My eyes remain shut.
Irresistible: A Salvation Society Novel Page 1