Visions of Love (Arden's Glen Romance Book 3)

by C. M. Albert

  “Rosalie!” he said, kissing her face, her throat, her forehead. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. You never cease to amaze me, beautiful.”

  “Thank you! I’m actually really proud of myself, too,” she said. “It’s the first time I have ever been truly proud of who I was and what I was capable of doing. It’s been a hard four months while I was away, but I learned a lot about myself and what I want—and don’t want.”

  “Well, I’m glad I made the cut and I’m something you want,” he teased.

  “When I was in California, I missed Arden’s Glen. I never thought that would be possible. I actually missed the trees and the small-town feel. I missed knowing the people who owned most of the stores. I missed walking down the street and having someone look me in the eyes and say hello. The little things.”

  She paused and looked up at him. “I missed you most of all,” she said quietly. “Somehow, you crept in with your damn dashing smile and sexy glasses. Your corny jokes and cheesy pick-up lines.”

  “Guess they worked though,” he said and winked.

  “They worked,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. “I love how smart you are, Zade. That turns me on more than you even know.”

  “Oh, it does, does it? Should I go get my glasses and take you to bed then? So we can celebrate?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. “But, Zade, with or without the contract, I would’ve come back home for you.”

  “I never would’ve asked you to do that and give up your career, Rosalie. Watching you walk away from me was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

  “And yet you were willing to walk away from yours—for me.”

  “Yeah,” he said, cradling her face with his hand. “Some things are worth walking away from.”

  “And some things are worth walking toward,” she said. “I never once dreamed about what love would look like for me when I was a kid. I couldn’t envision my future at all.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I’m living it. Now, I’m not only walking toward what I want, I’m running. You’ve made me greedy, though, doctor,” she said, grinning. “I want it all now. You once told me you wanted everything from me. I finally understand what you meant. I’m all in, Zade. When I said yes, I meant it. I’m ready to have it all with you.”

  “Same, Crackers.”

  “So,” she said, standing up and taking Zade’s hand, “about those glasses . . .”

  Zade chuckled, scooping Rosalie up in his arms. He wasn’t a psychic, and he couldn’t read her mind. But he was damn sure that if he could, he’d see his whole future there. He didn’t need to know every next step to know they’d be happy together.

  The one thing Rosalie had taught him was to believe in the unseen.

  What now linked their hearts together may be invisible, but he was never more sure of anything in his whole life. From the moment he met Rosalie, he’d known. There was no love he could ever envision that didn’t include her—the sexy, sassy, small-town psychic with the bold mouth and the brave heart.

  And she was all his.

  ROSALIE IS GOING to kill me, thought Brecken as he hung up the phone with his bookie. But at the moment, he didn’t particularly give two shits. The blonde’s lips wrapped around his cock were the only thing his mind could focus on.

  “Oh, shit,” he cried out, holding the woman’s head tight against his cock as he released. He closed his eyes, the sensation tearing through him hard. It never got old.

  He helped the blonde to her feet and smoothed out her incredibly sheer and silky, silver bridesmaid’s dress. It fit her like a glove, all flowing and soft. Her mouth. Now that was soft.

  “That was so hot, Brecken,” she whispered as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss.

  What the hell was her name again? It wasn’t coming to him. He knew she was a friend of his sister’s—which is why she was in Rosalie’s wedding party.

  He would ask his sister later. Not that it mattered. He never let things get messy. That wasn’t his style. It was usually once and done, and that suited him fine.

  “They’re calling our names,” she said. She ran her tongue over her swollen lips. Her lipstick was smudged, and Brecken ran his finger along her full bottom lip. Her mouth was a fucking devil’s lair—a siren calling out his name.

  She tucked his cock back into the pants of his tux and straightened his shirt for him. Her busy fingers sent shivers down his entire body. Maybe just this once, he thought. I could bend the rules for her. One time.

  “Brecken Alexander,” the DJ announced from the adjacent room. It was time to get seated at the wedding party’s table for the formal dinner.

  “Guess I’ll see ya around sometime,” she said, patting his butt on his way out.

  Fuck that! Brecken turned and pulled the woman tight against his body and crashed his mouth down on hers. Sweet. Sinful. Sexy as fuck, this stolen moment. She tasted of champagne and cherries—and his come. His dick hardened as he cupped her ass in that silky waterfall of a dress.

  “If by sometime you mean tonight,” he growled. “I’m going to make you scream my name later, princess,” he said.

  “Want to bet?” she said, pushing his chest playfully.

  “Brecken Alexander,” the DJ called again. Shit. If he didn’t get his ass out there, Rosalie would have his hide. He was already on thin ice with her after the whole Murphey thing.

  “Oh, princess, you have no idea,” he said, chuckling. He ran his hands down her bare arms, and his cock jumped when goose bumps quickly rose beneath his touch.

  “I’m a betting man, darling’. And my money’s on you tonight . . . being beneath me, with your legs thrown over my shoulders and my name coming from your mouth over and over and over again when I bury my face between your legs and return the favor.”

  He saw the quick intake of breath, the piqued interest in her eyes. Blatant, wanton desire coursed through her and made her adorable throat pulse.

  When he turned to walk into the ballroom, the camera flashes nearly blinded him. He grinned, wanting to make these pictures good for Rosalie—and because he was still horny as fuck but knew he’d have his way again with that sexy little blonde later.

  “Annalise Voight,” the DJ called. He turned and watched as the woman who’d just been on her knees for him walked into the ballroom behind him. He noticed a slight limp as she took her place next to him at the table.

  Annalise! That was her name. A shit-eating grin spread across his face when she took her place beside him and sat primly. He slid his hand up her thigh and squeezed tight. Brecken knew it would send sparks of lust straight to her core, and it was exactly what he wanted—to have her hot and ready for him again. He knew his grin was cocky when he winked at her, but it fell short when the next man’s name was called from the wedding party, and he sat down on Annalise’s other side. It was one of Zade’s friends he didn’t recognize from Arden’s Glen. Annalise discreetly slid his hand off of her thigh and leaned into the tall blond, who was built like a brick shithouse.

  Jealousy slammed into Brecken’s gut as the memory of Annalise’s bright pink lips wrapped around his cock just minutes ago was replaced by the asshole jock’s face.

  When the man looked away, Brecken angled toward her and hissed, “This isn’t over, princess. I always keep my word. This isn’t over till I hear you screaming my name as you come against my mouth.”

  Her eyes flared and Brecken watched as her nipples tightened beneath the slick, satiny fabric. Oh, yeah. He would make her pay in the most delicious way. Then he’d toss her aside as easily as she was acting like she could do to him. The only difference? He could actually do it. He’d done it dozens of times before. And even if her mouth was built to worship his cock, there’d be others.

  “Oh, Brecken,” she said throatily as she chuckled low. “You don’t know me at all. Don’t you know, you should never bet on love.”

  “This isn’t love, darlin’. This is simply raw, uninhibited, anima
listic sex that will rock your world and make you wish every man after me was me.”

  “You’re a cocky little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Ain’t nothing little about me, princess, as you might remember.”

  Her cheeks flushed scarlet and she turned those icy blue eyes away toward the man sitting next to her. She threw her head back and laughed at something the dickhead said, and it hit him like a direct kick to Brecken’s balls.

  After the toasts were given to the bride and groom—including his own—he watched as Annalise stood to excuse herself. Brecken would wait two minutes and then follow her.

  He was about to stand when he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen and saw an unknown number pop up with a text.

  Fine. You can have your shot. But I will never scream your name.

  Brecken grinned, looking around the ballroom. Annalise was standing near the exit with LuLu. Oh, sweet Jesus! He put two and two together and finally realized who she was, the limp making a whole lot more sense now.

  Nope. Not touching it with a ten foot pole. Rosalie would definitely kill him. LuLu would kill him. Hell, half of the town would kill him.

  He texted back, knowing he was being a complete dick. I changed my mind. You’re right. It’s not safe to bet on love.

  He looked up and met her eyes. They were stoic and full of white-hot heat—and anger. She saluted him with a middle finger and turned on her heels, leaving the ballroom.

  His phone vibrated again.

  Coward.

  He chuckled. Damn. Under any other circumstances, he’d go after her, pin her up against the bathroom wall, and fuck her brains out. But she was right. And if he had any money left to put his cards down on her, he knew he’d lose.

  That was a dangerous, dangerous woman.

  TWO MINUTES LATER, he was out the door and texting her back. No one ever accused Brecken of being smart. Nope. That was Rosalie’s jam.

  This is what he was now.

  A lying, sneaking corpse of his former self. He knew damn well Annalise was too good for him. And he knew damn well Rosalie would string him up by the balls if she found out he’d tapped her new best friend. But the lure of Annalise’s sweet mouth and smooth skin was too much for Brecken.

  Once again, he’d lost a bet. It was the story of his life.

  Good thing Rosalie was leaving straight from the reception for her honeymoon. She wouldn’t be around to see it when he went spectacularly down in flames.

  ***

  Add book four of the Arden’s Glen Romance series, Bet on Love, to your Goodreads TBR today, and flip the page to read the full first chapter!

  BET ON LOVE

  (Arden’s Glen Romance, Book 4)

  “THAT’S IT! JUST once more. Yes! Like that!” Lincoln Rhodes shouted, his hands steadying my shoulders. His fingers were like strong vise grips, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought at least once about them being elsewhere. He smelled like a spring afternoon, and he could go fuck himself.

  “No more!” I shouted. “I’m done. Turn the fucking machine off or I’ll shove this crummy prosthetic leg where the sun doesn’t shine, Lincoln.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said, mocking me. He always knew how far and how hard to push. But he always knew when I was truly done and I’d give no more of myself to him.

  He turned off the treadmill, and I hobbled my way down the ramp using the handrails for support. Lincoln offered his hand to help me down off this death contraption, but I’d sooner give a homeless guy a blowjob than accept any more help from my masochistic physical therapist.

  “Bite me,” I snarled, brushing his hand aside. God! Even I knew I was being a complete bitch today. So I smiled at Lincoln, though he and I both knew it was all kinds of plastic and artificial—just like everything else in my life these days.

  “That’s my little Miss Sunshine!” he said, giving it back just as hard. My mother wasn’t stupid when she hired Lincoln to manage the physical side of my recovery. Being a former Navy Seal, she knew he was one of the few in Arden’s Glen who wouldn’t put up with my crap, or let me out of the intense physical therapy I would need to fully recover one day.

  Even I knew I was flirting with danger telling off Lincoln. The man had more muscles than The Rock and could make me disappear in ten seconds flat if he really wanted to. I bit my lip, willing myself to shut up, get off the damn treadmill, and chalk up another day of therapy in the books.

  The truth was, for all my bravado, I was exhausted.

  I lowered my good leg first. It made contact with the worn green carpet and felt strong. When I swung my bum leg around—the one with the interim prosthetic leg strapped up to my knee—the damn thing clipped the metal poles attached to the handrails. Even though I’d been holding on still, the force was enough to throw me off balance. My good leg buckled as I fell to the floor.

  “Here, Annalise,” Lincoln said, extending his hand. “Seriously, learn to accept help. You busted your ass today. You’re exhausted. You don’t have to be Superwoman every single time. Just take my goddamn hand.”

  I glared up at him from the floor.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.

  I gritted my teeth. I could do this. I had to do this. It still fucking hurt to walk on this thing—and if I didn’t push myself, I’d be a goddamn cripple for the rest of my life. “I can do this,” I ground out between my clenched teeth. I grabbed the metal pole on the side of the treadmill and used my good leg for support. Using mostly my upper-body strength, I pulled myself to a stand.

  Sweat dripped from my brow, and my normally straight blond hair felt frizzy and damp as it clung to the sides of my face. But I did it.

  “There ya go, sweet cheeks,” he said. “Knew you could do it.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” I snapped, grabbing the towel from his hand.

  “Always a pleasure spending time with you, Sunshine,” he said, laughing. “Same bat time, same bat channel tomorrow.”

  Lincoln turned away, tapping whatever notes he included in my file each day into the iPad he always carried around during our sessions. I could imagine what they said: Royal Bitch once again. Gives it her all, but has the social grace of a pit bull. Won’t accept help. Ever.

  I grabbed my backpack and flung it over my shoulders before lifting the crutches I often still used. I couldn’t wait to get the permanent leg I’d been fitted for. This one sucked, and I blamed my inability to be completely crutch-free on the damn thing. It was so bulky and plastic. The new one was sleek, thin, and all kinds of carbon fiber sexiness.

  The doctor I saw in Charlotte said I should’ve been able to be on it by now. But what did he know? He wasn’t the one waking up every night, screaming from the phantom pains, or the memory of knowing we were about to hit that oncoming car.

  I was still salty with God about the whole thing—but at least I walked away from it all. The other three people involved in the car accident didn’t. They said it was a straight DUI, and it mostly was. I knew Draven had been too drunk to drive.

  I should’ve stopped him. But I didn’t.

  And no one knows the one thing that I’ve been lying about ever since that day.

  The accident was really my fault.

  If you loved Visions of Love…

  Go back to where it all started in the first Arden’s Glen Romance stand-alone novel, Faith in Love. When unexpected sparks fly between small-town healer Celeste St. Angelo and corporate philanthropist Egan MacGuire, fate doesn’t care that neither of them are ready. Can they overcome their traumatic pasts and jaded hearts to find a little faith in love?

  Then devour book two, Proof of Love. After losing the love of her life, Dez Wright believes unconditional love is like a rainbow-colored unicorn—it doesn’t exist. But when fate throws equally jaded Mitch Michaelson her way, can they move beyond their instant physical attraction to help those around them in need, all while searching for their own proof of love?

  From USA
Today Bestselling Author C.M. Albert comes the Arden’s Glen Romance series, where inspiration and passion are a way of life.

  Other Books from C.M. Albert

  Last Night in Laguna – On her last night in Laguna Beach, unexpected fireworks take Bexley Rue’s heart by surprise, making her question her cross-country move the next day. Kai Donovan can feel Bexley slipping away before their heated night is even over – but he’s not ready to say goodbye when he’s finally found a girl worth fighting for.

  The White Room – The rules are simple: No Names. No Commitments. Two hours. They’re put into place to protect us—exclusive clients lucky enough to afford the cost of playing. But everyone knows some rules are made to be broken. When hearts and bodies collide, even the best intentions slip away . . . exposing the real reasons why we seek the White Room in the first place.

  The Stars in Her Eyes – When Creslyn Knight lands the role of a lifetime, she never expects lines to blur so quickly, sending her and her leading men into unchartered territory. The only problem? She has a jealous roommate, a disgruntled mother, and a string of paparazzi hot on her trail, making Creslyn question the cost of everything. One woman. Three men. Some things are best kept secret.

  Coming soon:

  Bet on Love, Arden’s Glen book 5

  Seeds of Love, Arden’s Glen book 6

  The Fire in His Touch, Love in LA Quartet book 2

  The Lies in His Head, Love in LA Quartet book 3

  The Song in His Heart, Love in LA Quartet book 4

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