by M. S. Parker
Table of Contents
Free Book
Glenn
Maya
Bonus: Fire And Honor
Also by M. S. Parker
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Surrender To Temptation
M. S. Parker
Belmonte Publishing, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC
Contents
Free Book
1. Glenn
2. Maya
3. Maya
4. Glenn
5. Maya
6. Glenn
7. Maya
8. Maya
9. Glenn
10. Maya
11. Glenn
12. Maya
13. Maya
14. Glenn
15. Maya
16. Glenn
17. Maya
18. Glenn
19. Maya
20. Glenn
21. Maya
22. Glenn
23. Maya
24. Glenn
25. Maya
Bonus: Fire And Honor
Also by M. S. Parker
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Free Book
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One
Glenn
From the future. Fifty years from now.
Her words rang in my head over and over until the roar of blood pounding in my ears drowned them out.
I stood at the window, hands braced on the wall on either side, and stared through the glass. My eyes started to blur when I saw her, but that was because I refused to blink—she’d turned around and came back. Was it to tell me she was sorry? That she’d made it all up?
But she didn’t pause, just kept walking slowly toward the gates.
What the fuck was she going to do, walk back to Florence’s?
Shit.
I needed to get a grip, breathe, think. Calm down.
Then I’d get in the car. Drive her back to where she needed to be.
And never see her again. Ever.
Fifty years from now.
“What kind of crazy shit is that?”
And who was crazier—her, for expecting me to buy it? Or me, because she apparently thought I would?
She was pregnant.
Jealousy burned inside me, but even now, I knew that if she hadn’t gone and tried to sell me that stupid bit about being from the future, I would’ve…I didn’t know. But I could’ve handled her being pregnant with some other man’s kid. As long as she didn’t run around on me when we were together, I could’ve handled it. Because I still loved her.
“Damn it!” I drove my fist into a wall and lifted my eyes to the ceiling, wondering why in the hell all this was happening now. Why now? Everything—Maya coming back, Cane dying.
And she was pregnant.
My hand throbbed.
Flexing it, I shoved away from the wall.
She was almost to the gate.
I had to get out there and get her in the car, drive her back.
I couldn’t let her walk.
For all I knew, she’d get abducted by aliens or some shit. I’d heard crazier stories in my life, like Maya being a time traveler.
I snorted. Sarcasm wasn’t going to help. Nothing right now was going to help. Except, maybe, seeing her walk through the door and tell me she was sorry—she was scared and upset, she’d messed up leaving me…
When I hit the bottom step, I stared hard at the door, almost willing it to open. Willing something to happen.
The phone rang.
But the door stayed shut.
Should’ve expected that, I thought tiredly, walking over to the phone and staring at it. What I wouldn’t give to know who was calling. If only there were some way to just know who was on the other end of the line, so I could decide if it was worth answering or not.
It rang a third time, then a fourth while I hesitated.
Maya was still walking away. How could she have expected me to believe that bullshit story? And what was more insane…her telling me that? Or me wanting to believe anything she said?
The phone had stopped ringing.
I grabbed the boots I’d kicked off earlier, pulling them on and shoving the cuffs of my jeans back down over the top. Just as I got to my feet, the phone started to ring all over again.
“Not this shit again,” I muttered. It had to be either Florence or Peter. I could handle talking to Florence, but the other one…shit. If it was Pete—I just didn’t have the capacity to talk him, but if I didn’t, he’d either show up, or keep nagging.
I didn’t want that.
I didn’t want him making the drive up here, not after he’d seen me at the funeral with Maya.
Maya…
Fuck.
She was walking further and further away from me.
That decided it.
Grabbing the phone, I snapped, “Yeah?”
There was a pause, followed by Florence’s voice. “Glenn, is everything alright?”
Florence. I could take Florence.
“No.” I was tempted to detail how not alright things were, but didn’t want to bring her into the crazy web Maya had tried to lure me into. “I’m a mess, but I’ll manage. What do you need?”
“Well…” She cleared her throat delicately. “Maya called. I…”
A pulse began to pound in my temples. Maya. Taking the phone with me, I stretched the cord as far as I could, so I could stare out the window. I couldn’t see her from this one. Maybe the living room. The phone didn’t stretch that far.
“You said Maya called.”
“She needed a ride,” Florence said. She hesitated again, and when she spoke, her voice was almost as it had been when we’d first met—nervous, uncertain. “Harrison has already left. But she was upset. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
My temper snapped. “No. Everything is not okay,” I bit off, hand tightening around the casement of the phone until I was almost certain it would shatter in my hand. “You should do yourself a favor and get her out of your life before she tries to lure you into the crazy stories she’s created, Florence. You and me…we’re finally stable. We don’t need that shit.”
Then I slammed the phone down, already wishing I hadn’t snapped at her.
But calling her back…no. That wasn’t a good idea, because I wouldn’t be able to keep a conversation going without getting pissed, and Florence didn’t deserve my temper.
Pacing over to the window in the front room, which gave a view of the road from far off, I leaned a shoulder against the wall. She sure as hell wasn’t wasting time.
She was almost out of sight.
Damn it.
At the rate she was walking, she’d be halfway to Florence’s house by the time the big, grim-faced butler reached her. Harrison hadn’t ever said more than two words to me, but he seemed damned protective of both Maya and Florence. And now he was speeding here to carry her away.
Because she’d called Florence…crying.
Guilt jerked inside me, and a memory of the pain I’d seen in her eyes rose up to bite me.
That just pissed me off, because Maya had screwed me over time and again. She had lied to me, left me, broken my heart. There wer
e too many nights and days when I’d refused to sleep, waiting by the phone, certain the police or the detective would call.
Then I’d been afraid to sleep because they wouldn’t…or if they did, it would be regarding a body they’d found.
I’d almost become inured to fear, had all but forgotten what it was like to sleep easy.
Finally, I’d just accepted she was gone.
Then, suddenly she wasn’t—and she had the nerve to hand me this story? And give me that look when I didn’t believe her?
I had nothing to feel guilty over.
But here I was, fighting to urge to leave the house, march up that pathway, and catch up with her. She lifted a hand and although I couldn’t make out much of anything at this distance, my imagination filled in the blanks. She was wiping away tears.
“Shit.”
Shoving away from the wall, I shook my head. “I’m not getting pulled back into this.” I couldn’t.
Mind made up, I went to turn away—I even did it.
Then I made the big mistake of glancing back at her…just as she stumbled.
She fell and I swore, bolting out the door before I even realized what I was doing.
She was even farther away than I’d realized—and I was either more tired than I’d thought, or I was getting old, because my breath was coming in ragged pants when I crested the final hill.
There, she sat on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees. My heart tripped. Her shoulders were shaking. She was crying.
Because she’d hurt herself or because of…
I didn’t even have a chance to finish the thought.
Maya surged up, half-staggering to her feet, and she half-turned, hurling something—a shoe.
It barely missed my face.
Seconds passed as we stared at each other. Picking up the footwear-turned-deadly-projectile, I searched for something to say or do. She had blood rolling down her leg, and her other shoe was still on, so she stood in an uneven stance, her shoulders rising and falling with the ragged rhythm of her breaths.
The anger in me started to dissolve in that very second.
No, I thought. I can’t…I’m not doing this again.
Maya was the one to break that connection, shifting her stance and stifling a pained gasp as her injured leg took more of her weight.
“Come back to the house.”
“No, thank you.” Her voice was steadier than I would’ve expected considering that her face, when she’d looked at me, had been streaked with tears.
“You fell down. You’re hurt. You can wait…”
The roar of an engine rose in the distance, and I lapsed into silence as she turned away from me. The car that came around the corner was a familiar one.
A heavy weight settled in my chest.
Relief. It was relief. That was all.
“Looks like it won’t be necessary,” I said.
“Completely.” Maya looked back at me over her shoulder. The mix of emotions I saw in her eyes added to the weight pressing down on me. “Don’t worry, Glenn. You don’t have to force any sort of consideration. I’m done expecting it. If I’m ever on fire, I give you permission to walk right on by and let me burn.”
The car came to a halt as my mind tried to process that.
Why was she the one acting like the injured party here?
“Maya…”
Harrison climbed out. “You’re hurt,” he said, his big voice deceptively soft.
“I fell. I think the heel of my shoe broke. I’m fine.” She touched his arm and jealousy, once more, raged inside. “I just want to go home. I’m tired.”
He gave a polite nod and opened the door. She didn’t climb in right away, lingering there with one hand on the roof. A moment later, from under the car door, I could see why—she’d taken her other shoe off.
I looked down at the one I held and saw the heel had all but torn from the sole of the shoe.
I started to hold it out, but she slid inside.
Harrison gave me a long look.
Then, saying nothing, he climbed into the car and drove off.
Left standing there, holding onto Maya’s shoe, I muttered, “I’m not the bad guy here.”
Yet I couldn’t quite make myself believe it.
And that pissed me off.
Two
Maya
The skin on my right knee was raw, but it was nothing worse than what I’d gotten when I’d played softball in high school. It had bled like crazy, but Harrison apparently knew how to prepare for everything. Once we’d gotten a mile or so from Glenn’s house, he’d pulled over and passed me a first-aid kit.
At my questioning look, he’d said, “I fought in the Great War, Miss Maya. I learned then it’s always wise to have a few bandages and the like on hand.”
I didn’t find any need for the alcohol preps, but there were clean cotton squares to wipe away the blood, as well as bandages.
I wasn’t about to leave those in place, though—as somebody who’d gotten her fair share of scrapes, I was a pro at recognizing the non-stick kind of bandage and apparently, it was something 1960s California didn’t have.
Now, alone in my room, I dampened a rag and eased the bandage away. It had already started to dry to my knee, thanks to the clotting blood, and the wet rag made it easier to pull off without making it bleed all over again.
I was glad I hadn’t twisted my ankle.
That would’ve been an added pain in the butt, because my upcoming job interviews wouldn’t go over well if I had to hobble in with my ankle wrapped up. Bad enough I was going to have to figure out how to explain a pregnancy—although I’d come up with an idea.
I just hoped Florence and Astor would go along with it.
And…pantyhose. That was going to be miserable, unless I could put off the interview for a few days.
There was a knock at the door and I glanced up, fighting back the urge to sigh.
I didn’t want to do this right now.
But how could I tell her to leave me alone when she was the only person who was there for me?
“Come in.”
Florence came in, rushing toward the bed, only to stop a few feet away, her face going green at the sight of my knees. “Oh…that’s…I’m sorry. That’s gross.”
“When you and Astor have kids and they skin their knees, I guess Daddy will be cleaning them up,” I said, teasing her.
“You bet he will.” She tore her gaze away from my raw skin and came to sit down on the bed. “I…well, Astor needed to pass on a message. The interview will need to be rescheduled until next week. The psychologist who handles interviews is out for a personal matter. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll get the job,” she said, reaching out to touch my hand.
I just smiled and squeezed her fingers, then sighed, stretching my leg out.
“What happened with Glenn, honey?”
“What do you think?” Pressing my lips together to keep them from trembling, I lifted my shoulders. “I told him the truth. And he…”
My voice hitched and I stopped talking, waiting until I knew I could do it without crying. Staring upwards at the ceiling, I counted to ten. Then twenty. By the time I hit thirty-six, I was under control. “He didn’t believe me, Florence. But I didn’t really think he would. I mean, if I were him, I wouldn’t believe me.”
“I believe you.” She took my hands and squeezed. “I love you, and I believe you.”
“Thank you. If only you were Glenn and the father of my baby,” I quipped.
To my surprise—and relief—she laughed. “The point is…I believe you. Because I do love you. Of course, it’s not the kind of…um…well, it’s not the same kind love.” She blushed, her cheeks going a bright pink. “But it’s love. He’ll come around, honey.”
I wanted to believe that.
But I wasn’t so certain it was worth holding onto anymore.
“Thank you.” Leaning forward, I hugged her. Although I was
taller, she felt so much stronger than me just then and I gave into the urge to lean on her, sighing a little as she stroked my hair.
“It’s going to work out, Maya. You’ll see.”
“Now you sound like me. It’s like our positions went and reversed.”
She laughed and eased back, studying me. “I guess I’m just learning from you,” she said lightly. “Now…here’s the deal. You look very tired. I want you to rest, then come downstairs and have something to eat. We’ll talk then. Things will look much better.”
She got up and started toward the door, before stopping and looking back at me.
Obediently, I lay down.
She smiled and slipped outside.
I closed my eyes, but I didn’t slide into sleep.
Not immediately.
My mind was already buzzing and spinning.
Florence might have had hopes that Glenn would change his mind, but I didn’t.
And it wasn’t like time was something I had a lot of—not with a baby on the way.
I had to make up my mind.
As sleep loomed nearer, the idea I’d been toying with worked its way closer and closer to the forefront of my mind.
It could work.
It wasn’t perfect, and it would be difficult.
But it could work.
You could always try to go home, a small voice inside me whispered.
I could. That was true.
But Glenn wasn’t home. He was here. And if I left, I’d never have the chance to try to convince him to give me one.
It was quiet in the kitchen when I made my way down a couple of hours later.