eyond Desire Collection

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al

  “Yeah?” They hadn’t spent any time there yet. From what Luis said, it was even rattier than her place. But it meant a lot that he’d invited her over.

  “Sure. If you’re not too picky about cockroaches. Move.” He slid down into the chair and Tara sat in his lap, an arm around his neck.

  “I was just saying some final good-byes,” she told him. “I’m going to really miss some of my friends.”

  “Like that wide receiver?” He did the single eyebrow lift he was so good at.

  That’s right. She’d mentioned Dre in front of Luis not too long ago, back when they were still just friends. “Mostly my theater group and a couple of the waitresses at Dizzie’s. But if Dre and I still texted sometimes, you wouldn’t be jealous, right?”

  “Depends. Is he going to booty call you if he ever comes to LA?”

  She smoothed her hand down the side of his face. “I told him I’m with my new man now, but that you might be up for a threesome.”

  Luis grimaced. “Maybe. But not with the Bengal. If we meet the right Hollywood star while we’re out there, however…”

  “Who’d you have in mind? Scarlett Johansson?”

  “Love her lips, but I was thinking more along the lines of Jason Statham. He’s badass and sexy.”

  “Oh reeeeally? Interesting choice.” God, she could go on like this forever. Her Luis was so easy to banter with and she didn’t have to worry about jealous machismo bull crap with him.

  He seized her chin and brought her mouth to his for a long, deep, searing kiss. After he ended it, he looked into her eyes. “But just so you know. No more friends with benefits, right? Mine now,” he growled in a deep bass that shivered her bones.

  “Yes, sir. Absolutely right.” She leaned in and kissed him again, a sweet, tender promise sort of a kiss.

  “I have another call I have to make,” she confided. “I thought about what you said about trying to heal things with my mom, and decided, at the very least, I need to tell her what my plans are.”

  “Sounds good,” he agreed.

  “But my finger keeps freezing when I try to make the call. I don’t know what it is about that woman that turns me into a sniveling five-year-old.”

  He hugged her tight, offering his sympathy. “I get it. Some conversations are almost impossible to have.” He paused, then added, “There’s one I’ve been putting off. So, I’ll make a deal with you. You call your mom, and I’ll call my buddy Paul Morton.”

  Her eyes widened at the mention of Luis’s friend who’d been wounded in the blast. The bomb that killed one soldier and maimed another had left Luis with deep scars of guilt. It was a huge deal for him to finally be willing to reach out to his injured friend.

  “It’s a pact,” she said. “Although your part makes my part look kind of puny. She’s just my mother after all.”

  “Do you want to do it now?” Luis rubbed the back of her neck lightly as if she were a kitten he was patting. “Or later. It’s up to you. And I can stay here, or step out and give you some privacy.”

  Tara hesitated. Too many decisions. “Honestly. I’m going to just get it over with. If you really want to be a wonderful super boyfriend, could you carry some of the stuff in that pile”—she pointed—“down to the Dumpster?”

  He grunted and hoisted her off his lap. “I’m just so much useful muscle to you,” he groused.

  When Luis had left with a broken floor lamp in one arm and a box under the other, she quickly dialed while mentally preparing the voice message she would leave. He mother rarely answered her phone. She was usually in a meeting or working, and returned calls only at her convenience. So Tara was shocked to hear her voice after only three rings.

  “Hello, Tara.”

  “M-Mom,” she stuttered. “Hi! I didn’t expect to get you in person.”

  “I just finished nine and am on my way into the club house. You caught me at just the right time.”

  “Golf in the middle of a weekday? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “It’s a charity outing my firm is participating in. We have a luncheon now so I don’t have much time. How can I help you?”

  As if she was a busy sales clerk and Tara a dissatisfied customer. After an entire lifetime of hearing that cool, slightly dismissive tone, she should be used to it.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to check in and get you up to speed on what’s going on with me. But maybe we should talk later.”

  “No. It’s quite all right. The luncheon can wait. What is it?”

  Maybe she was too sensitive, but Tara swore there was a note of expectation of disaster in her mom’s voice. As if she’d been disappointed so many times, she was bracing for the worst.

  “I’m moving to Los Angeles. You remember my friend Bree?”

  Silence.

  No, of course her mom didn’t remember her high school friends. She’d only seen them a handful of times.

  “She’s an old friend of mine who lives there and works as a costumer. She suggested I stay with her while I see if I can make some headway with this acting thing.”

  Oh, great. Now she was using her mom’s term for it—this acting thing—belittling her own work.

  “When are you going?”

  “Soon. A few weeks from now. Bree is getting married, so I’m wrapping things up here and then going out for the wedding and staying. My boyfriend Luis is going with me. Do you remember Graci? Luis is her brother. We’re dating now. I feel like I’ve gone as far as I can in my career while living in Cincinnati. I really want to take another chance at the big time, and I’m feeling really good about my decision. It’s the right thing for me right now, I think.”

  She was talking faster and faster in a rambling monologue, as if adding word after word would outweigh her mother’s heavy silence. She forced herself to stop talking.

  “Well, that all sounds promising. Good luck to you.” Empty politeness with no sense of sincerity behind it, and no suggestion that they get together for a holiday. Tara hadn’t been invited to Tampa since her mom moved there, and now her mother made no offer to visit her in California either.

  “Thank you, Mom.” Tara caught a breath and tried to dig a little deeper. “Maybe sometime when you’re not busy, we can talk longer. I’d like to know what you’re doing too. We can learn more about each other. Get reacquainted.”

  “Perhaps,” her mother said absently. “Sorry, Tara, I have to go now. Keep in touch.”

  The phone went dead and Tara felt nothing. She’d known what to expect and got exactly that. She couldn’t awaken more feeling in her mother than the woman was capable of. As a child, she’d worked hard to prompt some sort of reaction, but now she was an adult. She didn’t pine for her mother’s love any longer. There were other people in her life who made up for it.

  The door opened, and Luis appeared in the frame. He studied Tara’s face. “Did you reach her?”

  She nodded. “It was the usual. She didn’t have much to say, and didn’t care much what I’m up to. She was polite. That’s about how deep our relationship goes.” She waved a hand. “It is what it is.”

  “I’m sorry.” He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, taking her hand. “But at least you tried. Brownie points in heaven for the attempt. That’s what my mom used to say.”

  Tara smiled. “I covet your mom. She’s a frigging amazing woman.”

  “I’ll be happy to share her with you.” Luis paused, then added, “Who knows. Maybe for real some day.”

  Tara chose to take the hint about marriage as a joke. It was too soon to seriously think that way. But she still liked that he’d said it.

  “Is your mom completely freaking out about you moving with me?”

  Luis held his finger and thumb an inch apart. “Just a bit. You know she likes to keep her chicks near the nest. I promised to take her to Disneyland when she comes to visit us, so that calmed her down some.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re really doing this!” Tara grinne
d and jumped up, pulling Luis to his feet and dancing him around the cleared space between boxes and piles. “Just picturing your family coming to visit us makes it feel more real, like we’re really going to be there. I’m scared and excited and practically jumping out of my skin.”

  Luis smiled and twirled her around.

  “But you seem so calm. How do you feel about it?” she asked.

  He swayed her back and forth. “That it’s exactly where I want to be, with you, wherever you are. After being overseas, I’m hardly nervous about a little move to California.”

  She nodded, reminded that Luis still needed to fulfill his part of their deal and call his friend. But she wasn’t about to mention it. That was something he’d have to do in his own time.

  He dipped her back over his arm. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m going to call Morton. Soon. I’m almost ready to do it.” He pulled her upright. “It’s harder because I waited so long. I didn’t see him after it happened. Then he was shipped out on a medical transport. But I don’t know if I would’ve gone to see him then anyway. I was too… I felt too guilty.”

  “You know it wasn’t your fault,” Tara said quietly. “All of you thought the area was cleared, so you went on ahead. It could as easily have been one of them that escaped the blast and you who got caught in it.”

  Luis nodded but darkness shadowed his eyes. “Knowing and feeling are two different things. I can’t change how I feel. I can’t get rid of the guilt. But I’m learning to live with it. And maybe finally checking in with Morton will help some.”

  “Sure it will. You need this, and he probably does too.”

  God, this was hard, trying to find the right words to comfort him yet not minimize what he felt. She wouldn’t act as if she knew what it was like to be him. She had to let him feel what he felt. But she ached inside on his behalf.

  “Morton was a live wire, always looking for ways to keep us entertained.” Luis had stopped dancing to silent music and simply stood holding her, swaying slightly. “Downtime over there is mind-numbing. Activities can’t ease the boredom. You’re just waiting for that next mission, and you don’t feel really alive until you’re out there doing what you were trained for.”

  Tara barely breathed, afraid to interrupt this moment when Luis finally shared his experience with her. She rested her hands on his shoulders, looked up into his eyes, and waited.

  “Morton was a little ADD. Always moving. Always thinking up pranks or inventing games. He’s the one who inaugurated the scorpion battles. And he never admitted it, but I think he’s the one who boosted some top-shelf scotch that belonged to the officers.”

  Luis fell silent and Tara said tentatively, “He sounds like a fun guy.”

  “I wonder if he still has his sense of humor. If anybody was going to rise above a disability, it’d be Paul Morton.” His jaw tensed and he shook his head. “But you never know. I’m afraid when I talk to him, he’ll be bitter and depressed or even suicidal, a shadow of the guy I knew. And I’m afraid”—he took a breath and let it out—“he’ll hate me.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her voice not to quaver. She was an actress; she could control these things. “That’s a lot of weight to carry, all those fears. One phone call, and you could be rid of them. One way or another, at least you’d know.”

  Luis seemed to come back from someplace far away, and he focused on her. “You’re right. I know you are. Soon. Maybe even tonight. But not quite yet.”

  “All right. Whenever you’re ready.” Tara looked up into his sad eyes. She could be Luis’s rock, the person he depended on. She wasn’t as changeable or commitment phobic as Graci thought.

  “You’re not going through this alone. I’ll be here with you,” she promised. “Not just for now, but for always.”

  A smile lightened Luis’s face and he drew her close and held her tight. “Always sounds really good to me,” he whispered.

  THE END

  A Note from Bonnie: To stay informed about my new releases, please sign up for my newsletter. You can learn more about my backlist at http://bonniedee.com and find me on FB and Twitter @Bonnie_Dee. If you want to help spread the word about my books, I’d love to welcome you to my street team at FB. Whether you're a fan of contemporary, paranormal, or historical romance, you'll find something to enjoy among my books. I'm interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another. I hope you enjoyed this second installment in the Promise series. Please consider leaving a review. Read on to learn about The Matchmaking Pact, the third volume in this series about five friends and the men in their lives.

  The Matchmaking Pact

  Amazon Link

  Corinne Cartwright has an agenda: to snap up the office hottie before someone else does. She and her buddy Seth make a pact to each try to land their current crushes and, failing that, to set each other up with the perfect match. But learning more about her friends’ romantic choices causes Corinne to rethink what she wants from a relationship. Is it possible that the man of her dreams has been right in front of her all this time? Can she find love where she least expected it?

  THE PROMISE SERIES

  Book 1 – The Seduction Vow

  Book 2 – The Temporary Promise

  Book 3 – The Matchmaking Pact

  Book 4 – The New Leaf Pledge

  Book 5 – The Wedding Affirmation

  Some of my other contemporaries you might enjoy:

  New Year (New Life sequel)

  New Life

  Beloved Killer

  Finding Home (w/Lauren Baker)

  Butterfly Unpinned (w/Laura Bacchi)

  Four Kisses (permanently free)

  Hired for Her Pleasure

  Opposites Attract

  The Final Act

  The Valentine Effect

  Serious Play (w/Summer Devon)

  Fugitive Heart (w/Summer Devon)

  Awakening

  Escape In You

  By Rachel Schurig

  Copyright 2013 Rachel Schurig

  Resources and Support

  There are resources available for those struggling with mental health and substance abuse issues. Resources are also available for the loved ones of those struggling.

  National Alliance on Mental Illness

  www.nami.org

  1-800-950-NAMI (6264)

  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

  www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

  1-800-273-8255

  Alcoholics Anonymous

  www.aa.org

  Al-Anon Family Groups

  www.al-anon.alateen.org

  Chapter One

  Zoe

  Summer has snuck up on me. I was sure we had weeks left of spring, weeks to prepare for the appearance of the new season and everything that came with it. I went to sleep the night before with an extra quilt on my bed but by afternoon people were walking around my community college in shorts. Even now, long after the sun has gone down, a measure of warmth still hangs in the night air.

  There’s a clang from inside the house and I tense, fearing the worst. After a moment’s silence, I allow myself to relax, stretching my jean-clad legs down across the porch steps and tilting my head back, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars above.

  Ellie is late.

  The silence, much welcome only moments ago, now weighs on me. I always find it strange, the way silence sometimes seems to have an echo of its own. When the yelling is bad—a fairly common occurrence—I crave silence. Other times, like tonight, it overwhelms me.

  I hear the tell-tale rattle of Ellie’s car and sigh in relief before jumping up from the porch, purse in hand. Her ancient Honda makes the turn onto my street, her lights cutting out as she approaches the house, the way they’ve done dozens of times before. It’s not that I’m sneaking out—no one in that house has the inclination, or ability, to keep tabs on me—but I would rather avoid the possibility of having to talk to anyone. It’s best that the
couple inside remains asleep. And best for me to get the hell away as soon as possible.

  When Ellie pulls into the drive, I bound across the lawn and pull open the passenger door. As I slip into the seat, I think I see the kitchen light flicker on from behind my mother’s faded paisley curtains. I freeze for a second, but then pull the door shut. Ellie reverses down the drive. It no longer matters what’s happening in the house or who’s moving through the kitchen. I’m free.

  “You’re late,” I say.

  She flips me off, never taking her eyes off the road. “I had business to attend to.” She turns the headlights back on as she makes the turn off my street. I take note of her mussed hair and bare lips—a telling sign for a girl who rarely goes out without her trademark fire-engine-red lipstick.

  I snort. “Business. Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

  She flashes me a wicked grin. “A little ‘business’ would help you out tremendously, you know. Release some of that tension. You’re coiled up like a spring, girl.” She reaches over and digs a nail into my shoulder.

  I shake her off. “My tension-relief is vodka-flavored, thank you very much. That is, it will be if you ever get us to this party.”

  I figure she’ll laugh at my alcohol reference, but she shoots me a knowing glance instead. “Rough day?”

  I shrug, wishing she would look away. I so don’t need her eyes on my face right now. “Not much different than usual,” I finally mutter.

  Her gaze flicks back to the road before she glances at me again. She sighs. “Well, let’s get you a drink then.”

  I relax back into the seat, and raise my legs up to rest my feet on the dashboard, knowing it will piss her off. “So who’s going to be at this shindig anyways? Same old crowd?”

  She shrugs. “I know Everett and Hunter will be there, and Mary and her crowd. Other than that, I’m not sure. Probably some kids home from college.”

  Frowning, I look out my window at the dark street. Kids home from college. Great.