Contents
Title Page
Book Giveaway!
Copyright
Description
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
Epilogue
Never Date Your Ex
Genevieve Goodwin
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher and author. For more information regarding permission, contact the author.
Copyright © 2019 Genevieve Goodwin
All rights reserved.
Silver Gate Press
Description
Never Date Your Ex
Escaping to her hometown of Seabrook leads Jamie straight into the arms of her old flame, Aidan Brice.
After all these years, his steely blue eyes and charming smile can still melt her heart.
That is until she discovers that no good, arrogant gorilla is out to crush her dreams by taking what she holds most dear!
Aidan Brice is a man with a string of tragedies in his past. He has settled into his life comfortably as a single man and has no interest in falling in love. But when Jamie Connolly shows up unexpectedly in Seabrook, all bets are off. She was the one who stole his teenage heart years ago, then disappeared from Seabrook without a trace. Seeing her awakens romantic feelings for her, despite his mistrust and a conflict doomed to keep them apart forever.
Jamie Connolly has returned to the tiny town of Seabrook to escape her high society Ex who is stalking her. Once an impoverished orphan, Jamie is now a famous designer in Palm Beach, but she is tiring of the jet-set life style. On a nostalgic whim, she hires her old crush, Architect, Aidan Brice to remodel a cottage she's bought in her hometown. It is soon obvious the innocent kiss they once shared as teenagers has left its mark forever on her heart. But can they overcome the web of secrets and the battle of wills that lie between them?
Can they give love a second chance?
Seabrook Romances are a series of small town romances that are big on swoon-worthy heroes, humorous banter and a touch of mystery. All of Genevieve's books are sweet and wholesome.
Chapter One
Jamie Connolly's silver convertible zipped up to the imposing Breaker's Hotel with only minutes to spare. She lifted her black velvet gown above her ankles as a handsome, young valet opened the door and helped her out of the car. If Conrad had been there, he would have had the guy fired for smiling at her. One of many red flags she had missed in the four months she had dated him.
Despite the early hour, the clinking of champagne glasses entwined in a drunken toast was the first sound Jamie heard as she stepped into the sparkling elegance of the Venetian Ballroom. Exquisitely dressed tables topped with massive arrangements of white and purple orchids greeted her as she made her way through the crowd. She was relieved Conrad wasn't there clinging to her side, watching her every move, her every word.
For weeks Conrad Malcolm the Third had hounded her. He was Palm Beach's most eligible bachelor, rich, powerful, and the latest in a string of bad dating experiences. Last week Jamie had finally refused his unexpected proposal. Then, the trouble began.
"Jamie."
The familiar voice crept through the air, shattering her sense of relief. She turned sharply, taking in the dark and dashing presence of Conrad Malcolm in black tie.
"I don't believe you purchased an invitation to this event," she said evenly.
A taunting smile spread across his face. "You aren't going to throw me out, are you? My dear Jamie, I'm sure you wouldn't want to cause a scene."
"This is a charity fundraiser. You need to purchase a ticket to attend," she said.
He led Jamie away from the crowd, gripping her elbow with icy fingers. "You and I are overdue for a talk," he whispered.
Conrad was lethally handsome with jet-black hair and green eyes, which veiled the cold darkness that lay beneath a facade of good breeding. His eyes were tinged with the red of too many drinks too early in the day. A sense of dread flooded her body.
"There is nothing to talk about. Trust me; I have saved you from a lifetime of unhappiness. You and I aren't suited for each other."
His bloodshot eyes roamed over her. She didn't make the mistake he was appreciating her figure. It was her gown and its pedigree he was assessing.
"People love to see an underdog succeed. From a destitute orphan to a celebrity designer who spends her free time doing charity work," he said with a contemptuous sniff. "You will make the perfect Senator's wife."
She'd heard it all before, but his audacity never ceased to amaze her. "I don't want to be a Senator's wife, and I don't want to marry you."
He grabbed her wrist as she turned away from him. "You had better rethink your answer," he said. "No one has ever refused a Malcolm."
She struggled silently in his grasp, not wanting to cause a scene in the ever-alert Palm Beach society, a crowd that thrived on scandal.
"I just did," she said.
His eyes narrowed. "Is there someone else?"
"That's not your concern."
"There better not be," he said, running a cold finger down the side of her cheek, "If I find out otherwise, it would be an unfortunate thing for your paramour."
She ignored the chill settling over her. "What exactly do you mean?"
"Stay the chaste, sweet girl you've always been. I'll be seeing you again soon. Count on it."
He left her, taking with him any sense of relief Jamie felt moments earlier. She took a deep breath and made her way to the podium with steely poise, ready to give her speech thanking the patrons for their generosity.
When she was done playing hostess, she slipped through the maze of designer finery and glittering jewels, out to the veranda. The balmy ocean breeze felt heavenly against her skin, and for a moment she forgot the tedious company on the other side of the French doors, forgot the four AM phone calls, and the eerie sound of Conrad's drunken voice.
Over the last few months the elite Palm Beach clique had certainly lost its allure while a toxic boredom slowly crept into her life. She longed for genuine friendships, home cookouts and movie nights curled up on the couch. She need
ed a break from this superficial circle and this suffocating life. She needed to disappear to a place where Conrad wouldn't follow.
A diversion was what she needed, and she had found one. She was now the owner of a rundown beach cottage in Seabrook, the deliciously dull seaside town where she'd grown up. Two hours and a lifetime away from the glitz and glamour of Palm Beach, Seabrook was heaven. Home to greasy autumn fish-fries, sun-kissed Key Lime pie, and her hunky, high school crush, Aidan Brice.
Seabrook and Aidan Brice. Those were long forgotten names from a long-forgotten life of happy memories and heart-breaking pain. She wasn't sure how much Aidan had changed, but she knew her beloved childhood home, Villa Milagros, was still standing. The house was the one link she had left to her mother besides a sad, gray tombstone.
It was the sole reason why she was returning to a town she'd turned her back on nearly fifteen years ago. She'd renovate the little cottage while she tried to buy Villa Milagros. She couldn't fathom why the ocean front property remained vacant and abandoned. It was by far the best piece of property in Seabrook. It was the only place she'd ever felt secure, the only place she'd ever felt loved. She wanted to feel loved again. She wanted to go home.
Meanwhile, she had to remodel her rundown beach shack. So, why had she called Aidan Brice when any other architect she knew would do? He still hadn't called her back. Maybe he didn't remember her. She was probably one of many awe-struck teenage girls he had tempted into a night of soft kisses on the shores of Sabina Beach. But years had passed, and she was no longer a shy, adolescent girl.
She pulled the worn newspaper clipping out of her purse and checked the time. It was still early, a bit past six o'clock. Jamie dialed Aidan's number discreetly on her tiny cell phone and hoped he would be available this time.
~
"Lord, what a woman!" Aidan Brice breezed into his office, wiping his brow earnestly with a handkerchief.
"I could sue her for harassment if I had a mind to, Jo," he called out. He swept toward his office manager Joanne Logan, who was seated at a desk piled high with papers. The rest of his employees had gone home for the day.
"Miss. Sinclair? I don't think you can sue a client for that," Jo remarked, tossing back her gray hair with a grimace. "What did you expect from her anyway? She's not exactly the motherly type if you ask me."
Aidan loosened his tie. "But what a woman! It sure is hot in here," he said tugging at the front of his shirt, "You hot, Jo?"
"You will get no reaction from me, Aidan Brice. None at all."
His face broke into a grin. "Now Jo, you know I wouldn't choose some citified, high maintenance, seductress to be mother to Ross. Have a little faith in me."
Jo smirked in the self-assured way of someone who has lived long enough to become wise. "Never say never."
He flipped through a stack of mail she handed him. "Thank goodness I have you, Jo, to lead me to the proper way of living lest I go astray."
He popped a quick kiss on her wrinkled cheek before he picked up his briefcase.
"Mind your manners boy, or I'll be suing you." She shooed him away with the back of an envelope.
Aidan let out a roar of laughter as he strode into his office, which overlooked the inter-coastal of Seabrook's small downtown. Jo was a treasure to him. She had the savvy of a public relations guru, the finesse of a seasoned CEO, and most importantly was godmother to his son. The shrill ring of the phone interrupted his laughter, and he spared a quick glance at his watch. Six thirty on a Friday. Whoever was calling was most likely trouble.
He shrugged out of his pants and dress shirt, which were infused with Miss. Sinclair's heavy perfume. She reeked of it, her house reeked of it, and his workmen reeked of it after being there all day. He sometimes wondered if they had been doing more than remodeling her kitchen.
He pulled his undershirt over his head and threw it into a drawer with his dress shirt. Jo was right. A woman like the dark-haired Miss. Sinclair wasn't exactly the motherly type. She was more like a femme fatale.
He grabbed a clean tee shirt from his desk drawer and pulled it over his head, tucking it into a pair of well-worn jeans as Jo burst into his office.
"Yeah?"
She paused, and Aidan looked up in expectation of bad news.
"Jamie Connolly is on line two," Jo said.
That was bad news. "Again? Can't she take a hint?"
"Apparently not. Shall I tell her you're in a meeting? Again?" Jo asked.
Aidan raised an eyebrow. "Do I detect a hint of disapproval?"
"She's not going to give up, so you might as well talk to her. I've never known you to be so intimidated by a woman."
Aidan frowned. "Intimidated? Now wait a minute-"
Jo handed him his messages, ignoring his grimace. "The bank called about Villa Milagros. They're having problems settling the Estate. There seems to be another interested buyer."
"Over my dead body," Aidan said with a scowl. "No one else is going to buy that cursed place as long as Ross and I live in this town," he muttered. "They might convert it into some type of ghoulish tourist attraction." The very thought of it infuriated him. He wouldn't be happy until every stone of that miserable house was obliterated.
"Duly noted," Jo said lightly. "Mr. Tucker's roof is leaking and he's pretty ticked off, but I sent Josh over to look at it."
Aidan's frown grew deeper, his good mood fading fast. "You sent Josh? Josh, who can't find his cap on his own head?"
Jo walked toward the door. "To appease Mr. Tucker. Not to fix it, of course."
Aidan smiled then. "What would I do without you, Jo?"
"Probably hire some ditsy thing with a pretty face who can't run an office, and then fire the poor girl after she'd fallen hopelessly in love with you."
"You've been reading too many of those women's magazines. There's more to life than romance."
"Who said anything about romance?" Jo graced him with a wicked smile as she shut the door behind her.
He looked at the blinking line two with annoyance. "Heck," he said, "I knew it was trouble."
Jamie Connolly. The former Seabrook girl was now a snooty Palm Beach resident, interior designer extraordinaire, high society princess, and worst of all, linked to Conrad Malcolm, the man who had changed the course of Aidan's life forever. A man he thoroughly despised.
He'd seen Jamie's photo in Palm Beach Illustrated a few weeks back, her tall slender figure clad in a conservative navy suit, her long, dark curls flowing over her shoulders. He hadn't seen her since she'd left Seabrook over a decade ago, but he remembered her.
She'd been a pretty thing then, quiet and shy. He had always thought there was a mysteriousness about her, some unnamed emotion smoldering underneath the calm veneer. He had watched her pass him in the hallways at school, a soft-spoken, melancholy waif who had caught his eye more than once. One night, under a blanket of stars on Sabina beach he'd kissed her at the ripe old age of seventeen, and the world had stood still. Then she disappeared from Seabrook High, from Sabina Beach, and from his adolescent dreams.
Now she was back, involved with someone as unscrupulous and vile as Conrad Malcolm. It was beyond his comprehension.
Jo cracked Aidan's door open. "I'm off to pick up Ross," she said, "Miss. Connolly is still holding."
"You're as pushy as she is. Why are you so insistent on me talking to her?" he growled.
"Everyone knows Jamie Connolly."
"I hate working with interior designers, especially famous ones," he said, resting his brawny frame into the cushy leather chair.
"What's to hate? She's beautiful, smart, and has a heart of gold."
He refused to be swayed by such nonsense. "How do you know?"
"Word gets around. Besides, you need a social life. Ross and this office can't supply everything for you."
Aidan was wary now, very wary. How many times had Jo tried to play matchmaker? He'd lost count by now. "I thought it was a business call."
"It is, but I thought maybe-"<
br />
"No." Aidan said flatly.
"When's the last time you took a woman out to dinner? You know, a real date?" she countered.
"No."
"You're a man, you need female companionship," she insisted.
He chuckled humorlessly. "I think I know what I am, and what I need," he said. "I'm a single father. I don't have time-"
"She's on line two. Hurry."
He turned around and Jo was gone.
Confounded Jo, what does she know? He glared at the blinking light on line two. In Jamie Connolly's line of business, she had to know countless other architects. He didn't know why the high society princess would want to hire him, if indeed she did want to hire him. It was dubious considering her ties to Conrad Malcolm.
He reached for the phone. Perhaps it was time to find out why.
~
Jamie was still on hold when an elegant figure in blue satin approached her. The glorious Reny Portillo sauntered up next to her in a cloud of perfume and pressed an air kiss next to her cheek. Thanks to an army of plastic surgeons, professional hair color and make up, red-haired Reny was superficially beautiful with a personality to match. But she was open about her quest for a rich husband and a life of leisure, and Jamie liked her despite her shortcomings.
"I hope you're talking to someone more interesting than these dweebs," Reny said, in a voice starkly contrasting her elegant appearance. She smoothed her hand over the tight dress clinging to her curvy hips. "I'm so bored. Why do rich, powerful men have to be so dull?" she whined.
Jamie held up her hand to gesture she didn't know, but Reny saw the newspaper clipping and snatched it from her.
Reny considered the photo of Aidan Brice with a lusty little smile. "Oooo-la-la" she said, studying the paper, "Aidan Brice of Dani Architecture breaks ground for new Cancer Clinic" she read, "Mm-mm. He can break ground at my house anytime."
"Pretty hunky, huh?" Jamie said, admiring the divine, golden haired man who was keeping her on hold for an eternity.
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