Trust Me (The Trust Me Series Book 1)

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Trust Me (The Trust Me Series Book 1) Page 1

by K E Osborn




  K E OSBORN

  Trust Me

  The Trust Me Series Book One

  KE OSBORN

  Copyright 2013 KE OSBORN

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.

  ISBN-13: 978-1922489067

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing

  Formatting by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Kellie at Book Cover by Design

  Model by Cody Smith

  Photography by Reggie Deanching at RplusMphoto

  Cover Image Copyright 2021

  First Edition 2013

  Second Edition 2021

  All Rights Reserved

  Trusting him could be my undoing…

  Aiden O’Connell—a billionaire, vice president, general charmer and playboy.

  I want to resist him. I can’t. My past is fraught with one disappointment after the other—but the pull to him is magnetic.

  To love is easy.

  Trust comes harder.

  An overbearing father, mysterious incidents and embezzlement, all tell me to run.

  Staying by Aiden’s side could destroy me, but leaving him could be the end of us both…

  From International Bestselling Author K E Osborn comes, Trust Me Book One in the Trust Me Series (previously published in 2013). This series has been re-edited with new content and a new cover.

  Dedicated to the best mother a girl could ask for.

  Thank you, Kaylene Osborn!

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Dictionary Reference - Trust

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About The Author

  1. Noun - reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc. of a person or thing; confidence.

  2. Noun - Confident expectation of something; hope.

  3. Verb (used without object) - To rely upon or place confidence in someone or something (usually followed by in or to): to trust in another’s honesty; trusting to luck.

  https://www.dictionary.com/browse/trust

  It’s a warm summer evening, the moon’s shining bright in the dark onyx sky as the stars glisten and twinkle their dazzling brilliance. The females at this party are covered in nothing but tiny shorts and skimpy tops, showing as much flesh as they can possibly get away with without it being illegal. I’m contemplating whether or not I should get a drink to quench my thirst from this incessant heat. When I look up, I find myself surrounded by people I don’t know, except for my best friend, Sarah, who’s sitting next to me and, let’s just say, she’s a little occupied.

  I’m the only single person at this party—which is not unusual for me—I’m drained, and it’s starting to get late. To be honest, I’m bored with sitting on my phone scrolling on Instagram waiting for someone to come over and strike up a conversation. I don’t know why I always assume someone will because no one ever does, and I guess that’s on me.

  I cough purposely to gain Sarah’s attention through her intimate lip-lock with some random. “I’m gonna head home.” I talk loudly to be heard over the lousy music as her hand flies up in a rapid shooing motion.

  I smirk at her inability to talk. “See you at home then,” I state as I stand.

  She replies with a thumbs-up, but her lips never leave the guy. Yeah, that’s my cue to leave.

  Sarah Carlisle is strikingly gorgeous—long, wavy brown hair, tall, thin, tanned—she’s everything I’m not. The guys love her, and she loves them too. Me, I’m average. Average height. Average blonde hair, average breast size, a little past average on the curvy side. In fact, I’m nothing special. I’m just Jenifer, your average girl-next-door type.

  I live in Mornington Vale, California, with Sarah and her entourage of guys who come and go—some staying the night, some for a couple of nights, some for a couple of weeks—depending on how good they are in bed. Sarah’s house, bought by her parents, is medium in size. It’s amazing what you can hear from one end of the house to the other. It doesn’t bother me like it used to, though. The guys are always nice when we bump into each other at all hours of the night. She seems to know how to pick them.

  I haven’t had a boyfriend or even a potential boyfriend for nearly three years since, ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named,’ as Sarah calls my ex, stealing the line from Harry Potter. We met when we were eighteen, and we were together for five years. It wasn’t an earth-shattering, breath-stealing relationship. Actually, it couldn’t be further from the truth. He was extremely manipulative and insanely jealous. He controlled every aspect of my life, including my bank account. And, for some reason, he thought it was okay to dish out small amounts of money to me. I could never purchase anything I wanted even though it was my money.

  He’d tell me what I could and couldn’t eat for every meal, even down to what snacks I could have. There was even a time when he would set the temperature of my shower. He couldn’t stand me complaining, which I did often, probably due to the fact he dictated my entire life. My self-confidence fell to an all-time low. He would go out partying all the time without me and then yell and scream when I’d question where he’d been and with who. After five years together, submitting to his every command and dealing with his accusations of me betraying him, he strayed and left me for the girl he cheated with.

  Even though our relationship was never hearts and flowers, it left me shattered and heartbroken. Because as controlling and demanding as he was, for some stupid reason, I still loved him, and the thought of being without him caused me deep anxiety and hurt.

  Since then, I haven’t trusted another man.

  I figure if I don’t date, then I can’t get hurt.

  It’s as simple as that.

  In my dazed and confused state, I slap the phone, wondering why my alarm won’t turn off. Somehow, I open my eyes to another day—a day just like any other. Finally, I check my phone and turn off the incessant beeping. With a big sigh and a stretch, I sit up, taking a coup
le of minutes to gain my bearings.

  I’m exhausted from last night’s party, even though all I did was play on my phone. Out of habit, I get up, pull on my robe, and step out of my room. I’ve learned this is a good idea, since I never know which one of Sarah’s many conquests is going to be in the kitchen. And just as I thought, the guy from the party is here, in his boxer shorts, making coffee. Everything he has to offer is on show, and I can’t help but look at his amazingly sculptured body.

  Fuck!

  My mouth drops open in shock—yes, that’s right, I have zero self-control!

  He turns around catching me gawking at his masculine physique, and my mouth snaps closed. My mood shifts from complete exhaustion to intrigued. I knew he was hot at the party, but now as he stands in our kitchen half-naked, and I have a much better view of him, he’s fucking sexy. His disheveled shoulder-length blond hair makes me want to run my fingers through it. Those green eyes shine brightly in the morning light, capturing my complete attention. Broad shoulders lead down to a stomach that’s ripped like a Greek god. And don’t get me started on his perfectly tanned glowing skin, like something right out of a surfer’s magazine. I bite down on my bottom lip, checking my undeniable lust.

  Holy shit!

  “Good morning,” he offers knowingly.

  “Uh-huh,” I reply nonchalantly, walking past him with my head down and a smile that I hope he doesn’t notice. Making my way to the refrigerator, I attempt to grab some milk for my coffee only to find he’s used the last of it. My mood instantly shifts to annoyance, and I glare at him, holding the carton upside down.

  “Sorry, I used all the milk.” He gives me a knowing smile.

  “So I see.”

  He shrugs, seeming not to know what to say, and takes himself and his coffee back to Sarah’s bedroom.

  It’s time to get ready for work—sans coffee—much to my disappointment.

  Through the closed door as I’m dressing, Sarah and her Surfer God laugh and fool around in her room. I’m glad she’s having fun.

  “Hey, Sarah…” I wait for her to answer, but she doesn’t, so I continue, “I’m leaving for work. Have a great day,” I yell as I walk out of the house to my car to start the commute to work in my new Chevy Spark. I love my car, especially since its paintwork is in my favorite color—pink.

  First stop this morning—coffee.

  McDonald’s drive-through calls my name, so I pull in and place my order.

  “Would you like anything else with your order today?” the cashier asks through the window.

  I simply need some caffeine, but I reply nicely, “No thanks, just the coffee.” Because that’s me, the nice girl.

  With the nectar of the gods in my hand, I’m now ready to make my way into work. I swear I’m an ogre without it.

  I’ve worked as a receptionist at ADF Automotive Repairs for two years. It’s a great job, and it’s not too far from home. I flick the switch on the car radio hoping for some uplifting music to cheer me, but Taylor Swift is singing about breaking up. Again. Normally, I’d sing along with her, but this song always reminds me of my ex and how we are never getting back together. It’s like my own personal anthem, but today, for some reason, I feel an overwhelming sense of loss and loneliness. Maybe after being by myself at the party last night, then hearing Sarah so happy with her new guy this morning, it’s making me feel all kinds of alone. Tears well in my eyes as a sinking feeling fills my chest thinking of ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named.’ My heart starts to beat rapidly while I internally panic. Thinking of him doesn’t happen as often anymore, but when something triggers it, I can’t help the feelings that engulf me.

  This morning’s been weird, I’ve felt off since last night. Now with Swift singing in the background, my heart leaps into my throat as hot, salty tears prick at my eyes. They’re making it harder to drive and blur my vision. I carefully wipe my eyes with a tissue, trying not to smudge my makeup.

  As the song comes to an end, my panic seems to slow, and I begin to calm.

  Internally berating myself for my emotional behavior, I know I shouldn’t ever let my ex get to me. I must be tougher than this. I am an independent, fierce woman. I will not let him take over my emotions anymore. I take a sip of my coffee as I shake whatever that shit was, attempting to relax.

  He’s not worth it, Jeni.

  Driving up to the traffic lights only a block away from work, I take a deep breath, pulling my shit together. “You’re a strong woman… you can do this,” I say the affirmation out loud.

  Suddenly, the squealing of tires heightens my senses. A loud bang echoes through the air, causing my body to tense, followed by the car behind me slamming forward and smashing into the rear end of my car with a loud crunching sound. I jolt forward, my coffee cup exploding all over my new white blouse. The hot liquid instantly scalds my skin as it runs down my chest. The heat igniting my flesh as I let out a loud gasp.

  A chain collision.

  Great!

  Just what I need.

  Rapidly, I pull my blouse away from myself a few times and blow air down my front like a madwoman then scream, “For fuck’s sake.”

  My pulse races so fast, my muscles tense, and like a raging bull, my emotional state flips. I was on the verge of tears a few seconds ago, but now I’m simply angry as hell. It seeps into my veins like frenzied sharks waiting to attack their prey. I’m raging, my car means so much to me, and now in my already emotional state, some idiot drivers have me completely unhinged.

  The two drivers jump out of their damaged vehicles and are already exchanging insurance details, as I look down and notice my new white blouse and part of my skirt is covered in a colossal coffee stain. And to top all this shit off, I’m going to be late for work.

  Perfect!

  My nostrils flare, and my heart starts to race from the adrenaline boost. I should have a flashing neon sign saying Beware on my forehead because I’m not in the mood for any bullshit.

  I stomp around to the rear of my car to assess the damage, my heels clomping on the asphalt as they go. Luckily, the hit wasn’t terrible, and my car only has a few minor dents and scratches. I lean up against the side panel and try to take calming breaths. I need to rein myself in, or I swear this version of Jeni will probably end up on the nightly news.

  But my heavy breathing stutters as the man who rear-ended my car strides over to me.

  With each step he takes, I feel myself becoming furious.

  Shit! I can’t control it.

  By the time he reaches me, I’m enraged. My morning’s been such a nightmare that I’m ready to fire off like a rocket. Bringing my hand up, I point at him and can’t help what flies out of my mouth. “You men are all the same. You’re fucking reckless drivers. If you’d have kept the correct distance from my car when you were hit, you wouldn’t have hit me, you damn moron! Look, there’s coffee all over me.” I am waving my hands around like a complete fool. “I’m burned, and I have to go to work, which I’m now late for. Thanks to you and Mr. Bad Drivers Anonymous over there…” I trail off when I notice him tilting his head like he’s highly amused.

  That shit only makes me lash out more. “Why are you all staring at me?”

  Oh, for God’s sake, Jeni, rein it in!

  I let out a big sigh.

  The anger subsides, and despair takes over. Tears I don’t want to slip from my eyes start to well again, but there’s no way I’m letting this asshole get the best of me.

  He furrows his brows with a frown. “Sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have stopped so close to your car. I apologize for the coffee… are you okay?” he asks. I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. His apology won’t fix my car or my damn blouse for that matter. “I’ll buy you a new top. Pay for the damages to your car, and—”

  “I don’t need your charity. Thank you. The insurance company will cover the damages.” I force my details toward him and storm back to my car. I figure since he crashed into me, he can deal with the fucking mess he a
nd the other asshole created.

  I want out of here.

  Right now.

  Because honestly, I am making a fool of myself.

  What in the world am I doing with my life?

  I hop back into my car and slam the door with an exaggerated huff.

  What a way to continue this fucked-up morning!

  I pull up in the parking lot at work, regret swirling over me for acting the way I did in front of strangers. My boss, Melinda Starke, waits for me in the parking lot impatiently. I’m never late for work. I assume she’s worried considering I’m now nearly an hour overdue. I park my Chevy as Mel rushes over to me. “Is everything all right?”

  The minute I walk up to Melinda, my rambling begins. “Sarah’s stupid Surfer God used all the milk, which meant I didn’t have my coffee. So I drove to McDonald’s, bought one, and then proceeded to spill it all over me when some idiot crashed into the back of my car, and—”

  “What? You were in an accident? Holy fuck! Are you okay?”

  I nod my head and roll my eyes in annoyance at myself. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little rattled.” I give Mel a rundown of the accident, and she agrees to take a look at the damage to my car.

  “Come inside so we can get you cleaned up.”

  After spending some time in the bathroom attempting to clean the coffee stain from my clothes— which is as ineffective as trying to clean grease with cold water—I make my way to my desk with a cold pack on my chest.

  What a crappy day this has turned out to be so far!

  I sit at my desk feeling calmer as I turn on my computer and open my email account to get started on my workload when the phone rings. “Good morning. ADF Automotive Repairs, Jeni speaking.”

  A man’s deep, sexy voice drawls down the line, “Jeni, my name’s Aiden O’Connell. Unfortunately, I’ve been in a minor car accident, and I was wondering if I could make an appointment to have my car repaired?”

 

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