by Abby Brooks
Praise for Abby Brooks
“Abby Brooks is a wizard with Beyond Us—entertaining and pure enjoyment!”
Adriana Locke—USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author
“A masterful blend of joy and angst.
Praise for Abby Brooks
“As a voracious reader it is not unusual for me to read 5-7 books per week. What is unusual is for me to be thinking about the writing and characters long after I've finished the book. With just the perfect amount of angst and remarkable character development, Abby Brooks has crafted a masterpiece…”
Praise for BEYOND WORDS
"Once again Abby Brooks creates a world filled with beautifully written characters that you cannot help but fall in love with.”
Praise for BEYOND LOVE
"A lovely story of growing beyond your past, taking control of your life, and allowing yourself to be loved for the person you are."
Melanie Moreland—New York Times Bestselling Author, in praise of Wounded
“Abby Brooks writes books that draw readers right into the story. When you read about her characters, you want them to be your friends.”
Praise for Abby Brooks
Faking Bliss
The Moore Family Book 2
Abby Brooks
Copyright © 2020 by Abby Brooks
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.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Instant Bliss Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Also by Abby Brooks
Connect With Abby Brooks
Chapter One
Ellie
“Just because they make it in your size, doesn’t mean you’ll look good wearing it!”
Ellie Charles cringed.
Again.
The asshole at the bar wasn’t making any friends that night. And the line of loud-mouthed buddies beside him? Hooting and hollering at everything he said? Yeah. They weren't helping. His latest comment probably offended half the women in earshot.
Ellie included.
He’d grown louder and more abrasive over the last half hour, his jokes more malicious. His words more slurred. His friends had no plans to come to his rescue either—they were too busy snickering at every chauvinistic jeer that came out of his mouth.
Apparently, Ellie wasn't the only one who’d had enough. “Just because you have a mouth, doesn’t mean you have a right to use it,” yelled a feminine voice from somewhere inside Hurricane’s—Ellie’s favorite bar in her hometown of Bliss, South Carolina.
Well, everyone's favorite, really.
There wasn't a night that Hurricane’s wasn't the place to be.
“And just because you have a dick doesn’t mean you have to be a one,” yelled someone else.
“Or get to use it,” Ellie muttered, loud enough for the people at tables around her to hear. After the chuckles died down, she wiggled a little in her chair and tugged at her shirt, suddenly self-conscious that the asshole was talking about her. She’d agonized over what to wear that night, afraid everything she put on was clingy in all the wrong ways.
You look fine, she told herself as she checked her watch. Don’t let that jerk get in your head.
Of course, it looked like it didn’t matter what she was wearing at all…since her date was officially half an hour late.
Stood up.
Again.
What a surprise.
Online dating really sucked when you lived in a small town and already knew you didn’t want to date anyone in it. She traced a finger around the edge of her glass and sighed.
Her waitress—a barely-old-enough-to-be-legal blonde named Ashley—sidled up to her table, eyes focused on the loud-mouthed jerk and his friends. “Ready for another?” she asked, barely glancing Ellie’s way.
“Thanks, but I think I’m just gonna call it an evening.” She reached for her purse and paused when Ashley didn't take the hint and give her the bill.
“That guy’s really putting them down.” Ashley leaned forward to watch Mr. Drunk and Disorderly. With her elbows on the table and her boobs spilling out of her low-cut T-shirt, she turned to Ellie. “But he sure is a looker.” She bit her lower lip, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Ellie stared at the waitress for several seconds, wondering what she was expected to say to that. Was she supposed to giggle and turn around, forgetting the guy had made a total ass of himself for the last forty-five minutes? Just because he was good looking?
Uh-uh.
No way.
She was so over jerks.
Over men in general, actually, since all her experience with the opposite sex to that point indicated you couldn’t be a man without being a jerk.
The friendly smile fell off Ashley's face and she straightened. “So, uh, just your check then?” Ellie watched the girl fidget and pull at the edges of her extra-short shorts and felt bad. Sure, she was disappointed to have wasted an evening waiting for one more guy to let her down, but that wasn’t Ashley’s fault.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie puffed out her cheeks. “Bad night.” She flared her fingers and then pulled her long, curly hair up off her neck and draped it over a shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
I’ll have to leave her a decent tip, she thought. I’ve been at her table for forty-five minutes and only ordered one drink.
“Maybe you need something with a little more kick than plain old Diet Coke,” said the girl with a smile. “Turn a bad night into a better night.”
Ellie shook her head and sat back in her chair. “No, thank you,” she started then paused.
Why shouldn’t she let herself have a little fun? What else was she going to do? Go home and watch TV?
There she was, all dressed up at her favorite bar, with people laughing and joking around her…mostly anyway, thanks again to the jerk and his friends. The band was setting up, which meant there’d be dancing later, and Ellie did love to dance. She didn’t need a guy to have a little fun.
“You know what?” she said and pursed her lips. “Maybe I do need something stronger. One drink won’t hurt, right?”
Ashley sat back on her heels and jutted a hip. “Might even make things better.”
“They certainly can’t get much worse,” Ellie added before ordering a Long Island Iced Tea. Ashley grabbed her empty Diet Coke and sidled away, eyes drifting back to the jerk at the bar.
Can he really be that hot? Ellie wondered. I mean, really?
She couldn’t help it; she turned in her seat to s
ee for herself. The light wasn’t great at Hurricane’s but it didn’t matter because she’d know that guy anywhere.
Mr. Drunk and Disorderly…
…the jerk who’d managed to alienate every female in the room…
…the guy surrounded by a throng of asshats egging him on and patting him on the back every time he took a shot or said something else that made him sound like a class-A douchenozzle…
…that was James Moore.
The James Moore.
The infamous second son of the wealthiest family in Bliss.
Like old money wealthy. Like, Ellie was fairly sure James had never held down a job in his life and still managed to have everything he’d ever wanted. And then some.
To top it off, he was absolutely the best-looking man she’d ever seen—TV and movies included. With dark hair and dark eyes that always managed to look like he could see into your soul. Tattoos that wound up both arms and disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt. Not to forget about his broad shoulders and a body so hard, so rockin’, she couldn’t help but want to rock it hard all night.
For Ellie, James Moore had been sex on a stick since just about forever. The personification of everything she’d ever wanted in a man. She’d had a crush on him since puberty, but he’d been off the market for just as long.
Only, as of about two months ago, James Moore finally became single.
After dating the same girl since middle school, after getting engaged and planning a wedding, setting his heart on a future with her, they called it all off. Word on the street was that she’d been cheating on him. And suddenly, the happy-go-lucky, quick-with-a-smile James, a guy that could make anyone feel special with just a few words, fell to pieces. Ellie had watched it all, her heart breaking for him as he shattered in front of the entire town.
Ashley returned with her drink. “He’s smokin’ hot, right?” she asked, catching Ellie staring at James. “I think I dated his cousin once. Way back when.”
Ellie took a long drink, her eyes trained on James’ back. “He sure is.”
And he always has been.
Chapter Two
Ellie
The band took their place on the small stage at the back of the bar and the crowd cheered, stomping their feet on the ground and patting their hands on tables. Ellie changed seats, telling herself it was because she wanted a better view, but deep down she wanted to keep an eye on James. Judging by his slurred words earlier, he’d already had too much to drink, but that didn’t seem to faze him. As she sipped her Long Island, she watched him down shots like they were water as his friends whooped and hollered, oblivious to the cold looks they were getting from the other patrons.
That wasn’t the James Moore she knew. She could hardly imagine the guy who came into Good Beginnings—the café and coffee shop she opened a year ago—and joked with her every Sunday morning being so…awful.
So self-destructive.
She didn’t recognize the guys he was with. Either they weren’t from Bliss, or they’d been hiding under a rock.
James slammed a shot glass down on the bar. “Fuck yeah!” he shouted and the apes around him roared their appreciation, slapping him on the back and calling for more drinks.
“Shut up, asshole!” yelled someone near the band.
That was all Ellie could take. She couldn’t watch it anymore.
James was so much better than what was happening. He just needed someone to remind him. Since no one else was stepping up to the plate, that someone would be her.
She finished her drink—nothing like a little liquid courage!—and stood, catching Ashley’s eye and indicating the guys so the waitress wouldn’t think she left without paying. She made her way through the crowded room toward the group of men at the bar.
“Hey…” She put her hand on James’ broad back and leaned around him so she could see his face. “James, it’s Ellie Charles. How ya doin’?”
“Hey! Ellie!” James’ eyes lit up like seeing her was the best thing that happened to him all night. He opened his arms wide and pulled her in for a tight hug—but the fact that she was still half-leaning down made it all kinds of awkward. The muscles in his arms were hard and the muscles in his chest even harder, almost enough to hurt as he crushed her against him.
The experience was nothing like she’d imagined.
“Step back, bitch. He’s out of your league.” The statement came from the guy sitting on the stool behind her. Heat flared across her cheeks and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed or pissed. As soon as she finished the thought, she knew the answer: Both.
James scowled at the guy. “Hey,” he warned, narrowing his eyes as he leveled a finger at his buddy. “This is my friend Ellie and she’s out of your league, so why don’t you shut the hell up?” A smile broke across James’ face and he released her. Another one of his friends high-fived him while she readjusted her shirt.
So this is what it’s like at a frat house. No wonder I skipped college.
“Have a shot with me, Ellie.” James had his hands on her again, pulling her hips as if he wanted her to sit on his lap. Under other circumstances, she’d have been all for it. He was James fricken Moore, for frick’s sake! But, considering how much he’d had to drink that evening, she wasn’t interested in being one of his bad decisions.
Ellie pulled out of his hands and leaned on the bar next to him. “Hey, listen,” she said, trying not to get lost in his sexy eyes. Where’d he get those perfect lips? she thought, unable to help the smile that stretched across her face. He was so handsome. His square jaw and Roman nose could have been chiseled from stone. His dark eyes were amber mixed with mahogany…
So much for not getting lost.
“What’s up?” he asked, and Ellie reeled from the blast of tequila on his breath.
“Do me a favor, okay? Why don’t you take it easy on the drinks? In fact, you’ve probably had enough already, so why don’t you let me take you home?” Ellie swallowed hard, suddenly feeling awkward as all hell.
Why didn’t she ever think before she did anything?
Who did she think she was, coming over and telling him how to handle his business?
James’ eyes went wide, and he threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll make a deal with you, Ellie Charles, goddess of Sunday morning coffee. I’ll consider letting you take me home on one condition.” He leaned in close…closer than she’d ever been with him. Ellie couldn’t decide if she was more turned off by the stench of liquor on his breath or more turned on by the electricity charging the space between them. She nearly whimpered, then cleared her throat and got control of herself.
“What condition is that?”
“You come dance with me.” James angled his head toward the back of the bar, where the band played a fast song, the singer clutching the microphone to his mouth and tapping his head and foot as the guitarist's fingers flew over the fretboard. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up. Which I get ‘cause, you know, I’m one hell of a good dancer.” James shrugged and his gaze darted to her lips while his mouth formed the sexiest little smirk she’d ever seen.
She needed to say no.
She knew that.
Her best bet was to disengage and walk away.
But she’d fantasized about dancing with James since her Junior Prom. Who was she to pass on the chance to bring a dream to reality? She was only human, after all.
“All right, but you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, my friend.” Ellie straightened and offered James her hand as she backed away from the bar. Ignoring the curious stares from the people around them and the nasty remarks from the guys on either side of James, she followed him onto the dance floor.
The man wasn’t lying. James knew how to dance. But Ellie was no slouch herself and before she knew it, she was laughing and smiling and enjoying the hell out of the smoldering eye contact he kept locking on her.
Sure, he was drunk.
Sure, he’d spent the last hour or
so being an inebriated jerk, but that was the past.
She was getting to dance with the James Moore…a man who kept looking at her like she might be something special, too.
The song ended and the band rolled into another, much slower and sexier. Without missing a beat, James pulled Ellie close, one arm reaching around her waist, the other clasping her free hand.
God, he smells good.
His body felt hard and strong against her curves, the two of them fitting together perfectly. She was pretty damn sure her cheek would feel amazing pressed against his shoulder, which only added to her need to melt into him.
But, common sense prevailed and she resisted the urge to melt. Ignoring everything her body was trying to tell her, she froze and tried to pull away. “Our dance is over.”
“That was only half a dance,” James murmured into her hair. “Give me one more.”
She never stood a chance. He ran his hand up her back, paused at her shoulders, and then let it slide lower than it’d been before, landing right above the curve of her ass. He pressed her hips forward, molding her body to his, and lowered his head until she had no choice but to press her cheek to his chest. He had her all wrapped up, held tight and swaying to the music like they were long-term lovers, not short-term acquaintances.