Love of Truth

by C. T. Oliver

  Love of Truth

  CT Oliver

  All Right Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Copyright filed with US Copyright Office case #1-952183001.

  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, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  An original work of CT Oliver.

  Text copyright 2013 CT Oliver Ed. 3

  ISBN: 978-0-9893694-0-4

  Cover art designed by Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations. http://www.okaycreations.com/

  Edited by Todd Barselow

  http://www.toddedits.com

  Published by CT Oliver for Amazon Kindle

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is for the one lady who taught me the excitement of a good story. Look Ma, I wrote a book.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to say thank you to a very special group of Ladies who have helped me with this huge learning curve that is self-publishing.

  Valerie C. – I can’t thank you enough for actually going through the roughest draft and weeding out commas, grammatical errors, giggles and the Babies. But most of all, thank you for providing me Minion love.

  Andrea L. – Thank you so much for reading the first half of the story and letting me know your thoughts and giving me your kind supportive words. That really helped me write the second half.

  Amy from Turnthepage Review – Thank you so much for what you did for me. I can’t even tell you how grateful I am for your act of kindness.

  Danielle G. – Thank you for being such a good friend. For letting me vent to you, telling me to get rest and for your kind supportive words.

  The other Ladies of Pacific Shores: Petra, Stephanie O., Amy J., Mel B., Patches B., and Louise H. – Thank you for being so patient with me, but most of all I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for being willing to take a chance and look at my writing.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter 1

  I take in a breath to soak up the freedom of the moment. "Ahhh, eleven whole days," I say to myself. I juggle both my messenger and duffle bags out to the SUV in a rush to get out of the city before traffic hits.

  “Come on, my Love. Are you ready for our trip?” I say as I gather up my one-year-old chocolate and cream miniature dachshund, Larry. He looks up and answers me with a soft bark and happy tail wags.

  Heading down I-5 with Larry on my lap, I fumble in my purse for my phone. Pulling up the text screen, I text my besties, Penelope and Blu, letting them know I am heading out to Nirvana and will be expecting them there in a few days. Seconds later, I laugh at Blu’s text calling me a gloating bitch. They are just jealous I made proper arrangements to get the most out my time off.

  "I so need this." I sigh, turning the SUV west to the Oregon coast. Maroon 5 blasts over the speakers as I step on the gas to maneuver through the traffic. As I drive, I do a mental assessment of the last few days. Final exam for Analytical Chemistry—check, final draft for the lab manual submitted, early I might add—check, and last but not least, grades submitted for the undergrad general Chemistry course—check. With all of that out of the way I can luxuriate in this much-needed break.

  This last quarter has been rigorous for me. While pursuing a Master’s degree in Chemistry, I am also teaching an undergraduate course as part of my degree. To say I am busy is an understatement.

  Regardless of what my friends may think and say, having my life planned out is the farthest thing from the truth. I started college thinking I was going to go to dental school. Then I decided that sticking my hands into other people’s mouths didn’t quite do it for me. Instead, I ended up finishing two bachelor’s degrees. Long story short, I am continuing with school because I don’t have a clue as to what I want to do with my life.

  Pushing the depressing thoughts of my unknown future aside, I decide to focus on what I’m driving towards. Sea breezes, salty pineapple margaritas, and the good books I’m going to enjoy reading. I’m so excited to escape into a good romance that I actually feel giddy from within. Falling in love with a strong, handsome, and confident fictional man in a romance novel has been an addiction of mine the past few years; an addiction that I intend to take with me to the grave. No need for my friends know how I’ve been spending my past vacations. Between the sheets, not showering for days, eating only Hot Pockets, and only worry about keeping The Rabbit and the iPad charged.

  The two-hour drive ends when I pull up to my uncle’s beach house on Jefferson St., in Pacific Shores.

  Uncle Kevin bought the two-story Indian architecture inspired house before he got married, a couple of years ago. He fixed it up, intending it be to be an escape from his stressful weekday job. After he married, the suburbs were more appealing to him, so he hired a rental company to manage it for him.

  Hopping out of the SUV with Larry in hand and I turn my face toward the sun to feel its warmth and the crisp bite of the breeze on my cheeks. Ahh, Paradise. There’s just something about being near the ocean that brings tranquility to me.

  Looking up at the house, I feel so lucky to have it for the week, this being Spring Break season and all. It took a minimal amount of begging, and the promise of two Blazers tickets to get here. The house sits on a dead end block with a path separating it and the house to the left. And it is full of my fondest childhood memories. I’m always reminded of the clamming seasons when Uncle Kevin would park down this block because it was the only legal parking space left on the beach. It was always available because no one knew about it; our own little secret. I miss those precious times. Now that I’m older, I realize that people change making those times nearly impossible to recapture.

  Pushing those sad feelings aside, I grab all my stuff and practically skip up the light gray-pebbled walkway ending with a hop up the wrap around porch. The porch is my favorite part of the house. It is extended in the back, facing the ocean, where you can catch a little sun while indulging in a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. I fumble in my massive purse for the keys while unknowingly humming along to some Nat King Cole that’s wafting in from the left, across the parkway.

  “Hmm, must be new vacationers. Good music.”

  Letting myself into Heaven on Earth, I can’t stop the big face splitting smile. I love this house.
Not because it’s on the beach, but because my uncle put such hard work and love into restoring the place. It reminds me a little of him whenever I’m here.

  On the outside of the house, it’s rustic. The sidings are of aged planks of wood, in varying shades of grays. The roof is one-sided and slanted making it a unique piece of architecture. On the inside, it’s darkened with cherry wood floors with elegant creamy eggshell walls all the way up the cathedral ceiling. The house is mostly lit by a glass wall that faces the ocean. It is furnished with cushioned whitewashed wood furniture giving it a classy but sustainable look. It is just overall refreshing.

  Walking up the stairs to the master bedroom, I take in a deep breath of sea breeze, citrus furniture polish, and fresh laundry detergent. Opening the double doors to the bedroom, I drop all my stuff and jump straight onto the California king size bed with Larry, squealing like a seven year old.

  “How shall we start our vacation? Food? No, I’d have to hit the store. Hmm, something fun?” I look at Larry’s furrowing brow. “I’m thinking a mani/pedi?” I laugh as Larry answers me by showing his belly for a rub.

  After calling to make an appointment with Cindy, my favorite lady at By the Shores Spa, I change into some shorts and send out a few texts to the besties letting them know I made it safe and sound. With Larry being so comfortable in his new surroundings, I step out of the house. I love the feel of the warm sun glossing over my skin. Tying up my long hair into a messy bun, I put on my Ray-Bans and walk down the street with my face soaking up some warmth. Half way down the street I notice I’m still humming along to Nat King Cole, and I can’t help but bask in the feeling of relaxation.

  Chapter 2

  Looking out to the clear ocean scenery, I take in a deep breath to calm the nerves. Sounds of Nat King Cole and the ocean waves surround the back porch of the rental beach house as I stretch out further on the lounge chair. I let a sip of scotch linger on my tongue before working its way down my throat to help warm and soothe me from within. It’s not working. It’s not blocking out the sounds of my brother, Cory, and our childhood friend, Ben. The boys need to calm down. Those surfer bunnies from this morning weren’t even that hot. Of course, all Cory could see were the C cups in the barely there bikini top and Ben was his reserved self.

  This is the first time we’re trying out the Oregon waves. It’s intense, to say the least and cold as hell. I close my eyes and breathe in and out slowly, as suggested by my chiropractor. Trying to relax is still a challenge since coming back from Iraq. I am so damn thankful that I came home safe. No PTSD bogging me down. I can fully sleep and not be dependent on drugs, but my heightened senses have never fully calmed. A small price to pay for coming back in one piece. It could also be the stress that comes with finishing up law school that has me all wired, but what the hell do I know.

  After leaving the Special Forces, Cory and I stepped up our education to help with the family business, P&R Law Firm. I’m finishing up law school and then joining the Seattle, WA, branch next Fall. Cory has already finished his MBA and is planning to follow me to the Seattle branch, as well. We get along and love our parents, but loving them and working with them are two different things. So, while our dad mans the main branch in Austin, TX, we will be in Seattle.

  As Nat croons about someone being unforgettable, the sounds of a big vehicle pulling up to the right side of the house has adrenaline tingling down my spine. I shift my body for a thorough assessment. If there is one thing I learned from the Army, it is to always take notice of my surroundings.

  The humming of a big SUV gets louder as a black Infiniti QX56 with all tinted windows pulls into the house next door. “Great! Another bunch of rich ass kids with daddy’s money here to party for the week.” I grumble to myself. Though Cory and I come from a successful family, have a trust fund each, and wanted for nothing while growing up, we are taught to make it on our own. Our parents want to see us make a mark in this world by helping others, not just ourselves.

  Though I do enjoy some finer things in life, like a good scotch, I’m proud of the way our parents raised us. It keeps us grounded, realistic, and makes us work harder so we can truly appreciate everything in life.

  Damn it, I really hope the SUV is packed up with a full family rather than a bunch of partying college kids. Nothing ruins a relaxing lounge more than loud rap music. I shift in the lounge chair to get a better angle.

  The driver’s door opens and a pair of skinny but muscular legs hop down from the SUV. I chuckle to myself. The driver stands no more than five feet tall. I can see her standing back to take a moment to look up at the sun. Wow, she is simply adorable. I wish I could see her full face behind those sunglasses. I feel a little silly since I’m hiding behind mine while wishing she wasn’t wearing hers. She’s simple but elegant in navy khakis that stop just above her ankles, a plain v-neck tee with a cardigan, and a thick wool scarf. The look of pure happiness on her face makes her look young and pure and just radiant.

  I watch as she enters the house without having to look for the hidden rental key. “Hmmm, maybe she’s the owner,” I mumble to no one.

  Sitting back, I try to relax again, but I’m hyped and overly aware of all the sounds around me. Cory comes through the sliding glass doors and offers me a fresh three finger Macallan, then settles down into the lounge chair next to me with a drink of his own. There are some things in this world that you cannot skimp on, and a good scotch is definitely one of them.

  “Whoa, whose big ride? Wasn’t there five minutes ago,” Cory states.

  “Yeah, seems like we’ll be having a neighbor for a couple of days,” I say nonchalantly.

  “Neighbor? As in one?” Cory asks.

  “Yeah, she’s a cute lil’ thang,” I drawl, laughing to myself. You can take the boy out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the boy.

  “Hmmm, maybe she’ll want to come over later for our get together with the girls from this morning,” Cory grins to himself.

  I laugh at the look on his face while dividing my focus between Cory and the house across the drive path. “You trying to woo them with your cooking?”

  “Hey! A lady has to appreciate a man who can grill, right?” Cory asks, taking of a sip of his scotch.

  “Yes, a lady would, but those girls…” I raise a questioning eyebrow at my brother.

  Cory laughs. “Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what they have to offer me.”

  “Okay, just don’t appreciate them so much that you can’t catch some waves tomorrow.”

  My brother and I have two different ideas of this vacation. Cory wants to meet as many girls as he can, and I just want to catch as many waves and adrenaline rushes as I can.

  “I won’t,” Cory chuckles and leans back in his chair facing the ocean. “Hey! You okay, man? You’ve been quiet, and let me tap into what mom would say, umm, ‘reflective’, lately. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I chuckle at my brother’s look of concern for me. Cory and our mom have always been close. Cory is a year younger and is a bigger mama’s boy than I am. Whenever we’re looking out for each other, we always worry through our mom’s eyes, so to speak.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just finishing up school is stressful and then next year, you know.”

  “Man, you just need a girl!” Cory states.

  This is not an uncommon thing for him to say. It’s his answer for everything. Bored? Get with a girl. Going to get food? Get it with a girl. Going to buy toilet paper? Get it with a girl. Some part of Cory just doesn’t want to grow up, it seems.

  “Told you man, I don’t have time for that in my life right now. Also, I don’t want another incident like Jenny.” The one time I ever try out Cory’s advice and hooked up with a girl to let off some steam, she ends up being a stalker. Pulling guilt trips to get a relationship out of me when she learned the ‘P’ in P&R Law was my last name. So, for what is left of my time while in school and interning at the firm, I intend to be fancy free
.

  “Okay, but I’m telling you that’s what I think will help you out right now, man. A little craziness like that is fun,” Cory says, with a stupid grin on his face.

  “For you maybe. You weren’t the one she blamed for taking her virginity!” I state with disgust. Cory laughs on with a hand holding onto his side. He loves bringing up that story for a good amusement. “Virgin, what a joke. She hadn’t been a virgin probably half her life!”

  Over Cory’s gasps for air, I notice our neighbor’s door opening and strain to look. She is stepping out of her house and tying up her hair. I get a better look at her face, and like I thought, she is simply adorable. Her long dark hair has my attention until my eyes catch glimpse of some of the cutest legs I’ve ever seen. They are strong, yet curvy in those shorts she has changed into.

  Cory stops laughing for a second to see where I’m looking. “Wow, she is cute!” he says as he eyes me with a big shit-eating grin on his face. “Maybe, some craziness is worth it.”

  I glare back at him with mock menace. “Go grill your damn meat!”

  Chapter 3

  I walk back from the grocery store lugging all the fixings for my pineapple margaritas and a few days worth of food. The happy and free feeling you get after coming back from the spa should be bottled as a lotion. For the first time in months, I feel completely refreshed and relaxed. What started off as a mani/pedi turned into a full on body spa. I know I have been busy and letting things go, but if Cindy had pulled out the weed whacker during my Brazilian wax I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  I call out to Larry as he puppy skips down the stairs to greet me. When Blu adopted Larry for me, I was reluctant. With my busy life, I was worried I would neglect him or he would be a bother and too much for me to handle. As it turns out, Larry is exactly what I need in my life. His presence and happy energetic attitude is a bundle of joy what cheers me up after a day of endless studying and hours of being locked away in a lab. It’s nice to have a happy personality to come home to every night. It also doesn’t hurt that Larry is the cutest dog ever.