Keeping Score
A Willow Creek Romance
Shannon Stults
Keeping Score
Copyright© 2019 Shannon Stults
EPUB Edition
The Tule Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
First Publication by Tule Publishing 2019
Cover design by Michele Catalano
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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-950510-88-7
Keep Up with your Favorite Authors and their New Releases
For the latest news from Tule Publishing authors, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com
Stay social! For new release updates, behind-the-scenes sneak peeks, and reader giveaways:
Like us on
Follow us on
Follow us on
See you online!
Dedication
To Momma and Daddy. I told y’all I’d use that English degree for something.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
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 Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Please Leave a Review
The Willow Creek series
Other Books from Tule
About the Author
Acknowledgments
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rehearsed this, the big “thank you” speech we all secretly practice in the shower or while folding the laundry. Now the day has finally come, and suddenly writing a three-hundred-page novel seems like a piece of cake.
First and foremost, thank you to God who had a plan for me far beyond what I could ever have imagined for myself.
To Mom, Dad, Laura, and Manda. You guys have been my first readers and my biggest supporters since the very beginning. There’s no way I could have gotten this far without your advice and encouragement. Not to mention all the hilarious stories I get to use in future books. You know the ones (she said before taking a sip out of her new, GINORMOUS, pink coffee mug).
To my PBFF, Codie Dickerson. You knew I’d get here long before I ever did. Whenever I doubted, I pulled out the small Superman notebook you bought me with the handwritten note inside reminding me to have faith and never give up my dream. You are the most inspiring and kindhearted friend a girl could ask for. I never would have had the gets to take this first step to “thirty-five bestsellers” without you.
To everyone at Tule Publishing. I’ve been truly spoiled to get to work with Tule on my first book ever. To Meghan Farrell, Jenny Silver, and Nikki Babri for all your hard work and enthusiasm. To all those who took a hand in editing: Julie Sturgeon, Shannon Cave, and Beth Atwood. It was truly a team effort, and you three made Cole and Logan’s story a million times better than I could have hoped for. And of course, to Lee Hyat and Michelle Catalano for the beautiful cover.
To the amazing Amy Brewer, Patty Carothers, Stephanie Hansen, and the rest of the team at Metamorphosis Lit. You guys took a huge chance on me, and I hope I can prove that faith was well-placed in the years to come.
And finally, to every one of you reading this (and those who closed the book the second they saw The End). You took a shot on me and my story, for whatever reason, and it’s because of you this shower “thank you” speech finally gets an audience. Thank you. With all the love in my heart.
Prologue
August—The Farewell Bonfire
Cole watched the flames flutter in the pyre as they danced along to the music, surrounded by friends and classmates he’d graduated with almost three months ago. At least twenty trucks, cars, and SUVs were parked in a wide circle around the fire, creating a ring of tailgates and car hoods for available seating. Some, like Cole, sat in folding lawn chairs while nursing a Solo cup. Music blasted from the speakers hooked up to Roy Finnick’s Jeep, and a dozen or so girls danced together by the fire. He could hear cheers from a nearby game of beer pong being played on one of the truck beds.
The field was about five acres in size, surrounded by trees on three sides—which was perfect since, technically, they were all trespassing. They’d been meeting up regularly in this very field since their freshman year, lighting a fire and having a few beers, courtesy of whoever had convinced their older siblings to buy for them that week.
Fortunately for everyone involved, they’d never once gotten caught in the four years since the tradition started. The field was hidden away among hundreds of acres owned by Harrold Carithers. Old Man Carithers was a cranky bastard, and everyone in town—especially Cole, who’d worked for the man for the last three years—knew better than to get on his bad side. So no one ever suspected that a bunch of kids would be partying in a random field mere miles from his farm.
This was the last bonfire of the season, the big send-off before half of them headed out to start college classes or careers in new cities and states. It was supposed to be a celebration, only Cole wasn’t in much of a party mood tonight.
He drained the last of his beer. Maybe he’d duck out early and call it a night.
“It’s not fair.” Cole turned his head slightly at the feminine voice coming from behind him somewhere. “After tomorrow, you’re going to be off living the dream life at school in Texas, and I’m going to be stuck here without my best friend and without any sort of college-life experience.”
His heart beat as fast as a heavy metal drum solo. He’d known Carly Malcolm’s voice since elementary school, and if Carly was here, that meant she was, too.
“At least you’re not getting married and shoving out babies right after school like half the girls in this town do,” Logan responded.
“Not for lack of trying.”
Cole refused to look over his shoulder in case he got caught eavesdropping.
The voices grew louder behind him. “My point is that you’re going to OFTC, and that’s a lot better than what you could be doing.”
“It’s called Oconee Fall Line Technical College for a reason. As in, it technically doesn’t really count. It just means that I couldn’t get into a four-year school like you.”
“You didn’t get into a four-year school because you didn’t apply to any. And you didn’t apply to any because you’ve known you wanted to be a hairstylist since you were seve
n, and those fancy four-year schools can’t give you the degree you need.”
Carly was quiet a moment. “I guess. God, I’m sorry. I’m over here being all Debbie Downer, and we’re supposed to be celebrating you leaving for school tomorrow. You’ve got to be thrilled.”
“Yeah, so excited.” Logan’s voice dropped on the last word, a tell he’d picked up over the years that meant she was lying.
“I’m really going to miss you,” Carly said.
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. And I promise I’ll fly home every holiday and break.”
“You bet your ass you will.” Carly sniffed and let out a small laugh. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Now, let’s get this party started.”
Two figures moved out of the corner of his eye. His gaze followed them as Carly Malcolm and Logan Kase sat on one of the empty tailgates across the circle.
Carly pulled out a mirror, checking her makeup and fixing her long, blond curls. She offered the mirror to Logan, who just shook her head.
The corner of Cole’s mouth hitched. He’d learned a long time ago that Lo wasn’t like most girls. Where they were concerned with their makeup or clothes, she was more worried about showing him up with whatever bet or prank they’d gotten caught up in. Like when she put something on his church pew that left a dark brown smear across the butt of his pants. Or in seventh grade when he bet her she couldn’t catch one of Mr. Hudson’s small pigs. She’d been covered head to toe in mud, yet she was beaming when she took that twenty from him.
She’d always stood out against the others. Even now, just sitting on a tailgate in boots, jean shorts, and a loose Lynyrd Skynyrd tank top, he struggled to tear his eyes away. The warm glow on her tan skin cast by the light of the blazing fire. The way she tucked her chin-length, dark hair behind her ear as her mouth moved to the lyrics of “Tennessee Whiskey.” How she bit her lip when Carly whispered something in her ear.
She sat up straight as Darren Whitehead approached them, offering each a red cup. She grinned and tipped the cup back for a healthy sip. She and Darren exchanged a few words before his full attention turned to Carly.
Good for him. It was no secret that Darren had a crush on Carly. He was tall, fit, and, in Cole’s objective opinion, one of the better-looking guys in their class, even with the bright orange hair and face full of freckles. And he was a genuinely good person. Ironically, with all those good looks also came a serious lack of confidence. And Carly usually went for the ones with game.
Cole’s attention shifted back to Logan. She sat watching the movement of bright flames between them. Despite the fire, her eyes were dark and focused on something far away as she scowled.
What he wouldn’t give to know what she was thinking.
“Hey, stranger.” Sarah Newnan fell into Cole’s lap, yanking him out of his daze. She swayed, and he put a hand around her waist to steady her. “I haven’t seen you around much.”
“Been busy.” Between working for Old Man Carithers and training at the fire station, he’d barely had a minute of free time this summer. “You havin’ a good time?”
“It’d be better if you’d come dance with me.” She pointed over her shoulder to the group of girls grinding their hips against each other, their heads and arms swinging all over the place. It would be hot if they weren’t all completely wasted.
“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that.”
She leaned closer, ran her fingers through his hair, and licked her lips. “I heard you and Cowboy started renting a house together,” she purred in a low, sultry voice. “Why don’t we go there right now?”
He shook his head. “Maybe some other time,” he said.
He looked across the fire and found a pair of blue eyes shooting daggers at him. Whatever thoughts occupied Logan earlier were gone. She turned away and downed the last of her cup.
Sarah grabbed Cole’s jaw in her hand and pulled his face toward hers. Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “You’re no fun, Cole Tucker.” She planted a quick kiss on his lips before ambling away.
Cole rubbed the rough shadow on his jaw. When he glanced up again, Lo was gone. He stood and navigated around the circle until he spotted the short-haired brunette over by Levi Rossetti’s truck.
Standing in the bed of the truck was Cole’s best friend, Cowboy, in jeans and a red and black Willow Creek High football T-shirt. He wore his favorite black UGA baseball cap over his blond, shaggy hair. He gestured at Logan with the keg tap in his hand.
“Can I interest you in a celebratory drink?” Cole heard him ask her over the music and the roar of the beer-pong spectators.
“Depends. What are we celebrating?”
Cowboy grinned. “Aside from everyone heading off to the real world this week and me and Cole getting our own place? There’s the fact that my boy is almost done with his training. A couple more weeks and he’s gonna be a working firefighter.”
Logan crossed her arms in front of her. “In that case, I think I’ll pass.”
“Ah, come on. Have a heart. The guy’s been wanting this since he was a kid. And now he’ll be out there every day, risking his life. He could die heroically in the line of duty.”
“Yeah,” Cole said, coming up behind her. “I could die, and then you’d have to deal with the unsettling realization that you’ll never see my handsome face again.”
She spun around. “Never see you again?” she mused. “I guess I can celebrate that at least.”
“Harsh. But I like where this is going.” Cowboy leaned down and took Logan’s cup, filling it up and giving it back before he grabbed his own. He raised it high in the air and shouted, “To Cole!”
There was a joyful echo all around as red cups found people’s lips. Logan sipped, her attention shifting to the game of beer-pong in the bed of the next truck over. She snickered when Katie Samuels tossed the ball and missed the cup by a foot.
“You think you can do better?”
She turned back to Cole, pointing at Katie. “Than that? Easily. I bet I could even take you.”
“Is that a challenge, Logan Kase? You lookin’ for a wager?”
She shrugged, eyeing the game. “Why not? Ain’t gonna hurt me none.”
A fire ignited in Cole’s chest, burning away any remnants of his sour mood. “Good thing I love a challenge.” He downed the contents of his cup and tossed it to Cowboy, who hadn’t been paying attention. “Start filling ’em up, buddy. And we’re going to need you to officiate.”
“Officiate?”
He grinned at Logan. This night was finally looking up. “Lo here just challenged me to the next game of beer-pong. Can’t blame her for wanting one last bit of fun before she goes off to Austin tomorrow.”
Cowboy sighed. “What are the terms this time?”
Cole let his eyes trail down over her. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Chapter One
Logan stood waiting on the curb in front of Wade’s Bar, a pitiful-looking wooden building on the outskirts of Willow Creek, Georgia, almost ten miles from the center of town. To outsiders, it looked like a heap of old, rotted wood, but all the locals knew just how sturdy this bar was. It had withstood the test of time, along with fires, tornados, and the recession. Wade’s was solid, never coming down.
“Are you sure you want to eat here?” Jacob asked, finally pulling himself from the car. He looked as though he feared getting tetanus just walking through the door.
“Trust me. It doesn’t look like much, but Wade’s is the best restaurant in the nearest five counties. And if you give her the right look, I bet Lilly will get you a drink on the house.”
“And what look is that?”
Logan shrugged. “Any look, really. She’s not picky when it comes to men,” she said, nudging him forward.
Jacob finally relented and followed Logan as she led them inside to a small table along the wall opposite the bar. Several tables were already filled, and every stool at the bar was taken. Not surprising for a Saturday night.<
br />
Only a moment after they sat down, an older woman with straight, red-dyed hair down to her shoulders and rough skin like tanned leather sauntered up to their table. She had on tight black pants and a leopard-print top so low it looked like her ladies were preparing to say hello. She smiled at Logan. “Heard from yer daddy you was coming into town. Couldn’t get the chief to shut up about it when he came in for his weekly lunch with the mayor earlier today.”
She snickered. “Good to see you, too, Lilly. We actually just drove in a few hours ago.”
“You back for good or just visitin’?”
“For good,” she lied. “I wanted to be around to help Carly with the wedding in two months.”
She looked Jacob up and down. “And this one?”
“Right, sorry. Lilly, this is my fiancé, Jacob. I’m showing him around town for a few days.”
Lilly gave him a slow once-over, taking in every detail with the look of a lioness ready to pounce. “A few days, you say? What do you say you ditch the little girl here and let a real woman make those the best days of your life?”
Jacob’s eyes went wide, and Logan patted his hand across the table. “Careful, Lilly. Jacob won’t know you’re teasing.”
Lilly gave her a pout before turning back to Jacob. “So you’re the one who’s going to be taking care of our sweet girl. Sure hope you got some money to back that up.”
Jacob’s words still failed him, so Logan said, “No need to worry, Lilly. He’s a doctor at St. Mary’s up in Athens.”
“Very good, girl,” Lilly cooed. “I always knew you was smart. Now, what can I get y’all to drink?”
“Two teas, please,” Jacob managed to say.
Lilly looked at Logan. “And?”
“Just the tea, thanks.”
“Sweetie, you’re in a bar.”
“We’re fine,” Jacob said. “We don’t drink.”
Keeping Score Page 1