by Stella James
“We need to fuck tonight baby, it’s been too damn long,” I say.
“We just did it last night, and the night before that,” she laughs.
“Like I said, too damn long,” I nip her ear lobe.
She nudges me with her hip and gets back to the dishes.
“Where’s Leo?”
“Out back, sitting in the fort,” she says.
I smack my wife’s ass and dodge the towel she throws at me as I make my way through the patio doors and into the back yard. I knock on the side of the wooden fort that my kids and I built last summer and wait for a reply.
“Come in.”
I pull open the curtain that hangs as a door and peek in to see my six year old daughter sitting at the small plastic table, colouring a picture. Hanna and I were surprised to say the least the day she gave birth to who was supposed to be our fifth son. Our little girl came into this world unexpectedly and nothing like her brothers before her. Our little Leo is quiet and sweet and has me wrapped right around her finger. We thought about changing the name we had chosen, but Hanna said she felt it suited her and since we’d been calling her that for months while she was still in Hanna’s belly, it just stuck.
“Hey there sweetheart.”
She looks up at me with blue eyes identical to Hanna’s. Her long brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail.
“Hi Daddy,” she says.
“There’s pizza inside, you better get in there before your brothers eat it all.”
“That’s okay, I’m not really hungry right now,” she sighs.
I crouch down and watch her continue to colour her picture. She furrows her brow and concentrates as she colours perfectly within the lines, a task that is far too tedious for her rowdy brothers. We make small talk about her day at school, she asks how many tickets I handed out today and if I saw any animals. When she’s finished her picture we head back to the house, her tiny hand in mine.
“Daddy, why do boys tease girls?”
“Why? Is someone teasing you at school?”
I do my best to curb my instant rage at the thought of someone picking on my little girl. Hanna is always reminding me that kids will be kids and I can’t shield Leo from every little thing that might hurt her feelings. I say bullshit. I’ll go to the school myself and talk sense into any little punk that dares to give my daughter a hard time.
“Well there’s this boy in my class. He’s new so at recess I asked him if he wanted to play horses with me and he laughed at me. He told me horses are stupid,” she says seriously. “I told him that’s not true and then he ran up to the other boys and they all started laughing. Why would he say that daddy? Why would he laugh at me?”
I’m gonna kill that little bastard. But as quickly as the thought comes to me, so does a memory. The first time I saw Hanna playing soccer wearing a pink dress, her hair curled perfectly. She had mud on her knees and her face was red. I called out to her from the sidelines and told her a princesses like her can’t play sports. I look up at the kitchen window and see her standing there, smiling at Leo and I.
“Baby, sometimes boys are stupid,” I say. “Sometimes they don’t understand girls and rather than try and figure it out, they act like brats. But that doesn’t mean that what they say is right or even true. Do you like to play horses?”
“Yes, they’re my favourite animal,” she says.
“Then you just keep playing horses, and ignore any little shit who bothers you,” I say.
“You said a bad word Daddy,” she giggles. “But I won’t tell Mommy.”
I hoist her up and she wraps her tiny arms around my neck as we head for the house. I open the door and set her down.
“Go tell Max to get you a slice of pizza babe,” Hanna says.
“Okay Mommy!”
Leo takes off for the living room and Hanna looks at me grinning as I watch her take off.
“All better?” She says.
“Yeah, some little asshole at school was giving her a hard time,” I grumble.
“Ahh, I figured something was up when she headed straight out back after school,” she says.
I take Hanna’s hand and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her waist and feeling the full curves of her body against mine.
“I love you baby,” I say, pressing my mouth to hers.
“I love you too,” she says. “Maybe when the kids go to bed we should play cops and robbers.” She trails her hand down my chest and firmly grips my dick through my pants. She presses her lips against my jaw and up to my ear. “I can be the cop this time,” she whispers.
Killing me.
The End
About the Author
Stella James enjoys reading, yoga and beer/wine. Not necessarily in that order. She writes in her limited spare time for your reading pleasure and also to silence the various characters that have taken up residence in her cute little head.
If you would like to be informed of upcoming releases or if you just want to be nosy because it’s fun, come and find her on social media.
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The Blue Falls Series
Worth the Chance – Book one/Cole and Lily (available now)
Worth the Risk – Book two/Trace and Sophie (available now)
Clipped – A Blue Falls novella/ Mona and Walker (available now)
Worth the Fight – Book three/Kate and Asher (available now)
Wild – A Blue Falls novella/Brent and Hanna
Worth the Wait – Book 4/Eric and Grey (coming soon)
Exclusive Excerpt
Worth the Wait
Book 4 – Coming soon!!
Copyright © 2017 Stella James
All rights reserved
*Excerpt is unedited and subject to change*
Prologue
“Mr. Doyle? Sir?”
I blink my eyes open and squint against the harsh fluorescent lighting in the hospital waiting room, it takes me a minute to remember why I’m here. Brandi. I glance at the seat across from me and scramble to sit up when I realize it’s the doctor sitting in front of me. The same doctor I spoke to when I first arrived, right before they wheeled Brandi into surgery. He looks down at the folder on his lap and then back at me, his eyes weary and full of hesitation.
“Just tell me,” I say, my voice rough but firm.
“I’m sorry sir, we did everything we could but your wife’s injuries were much more extensive than we originally thought,” he says. “She didn’t make it out of surgery. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
He sits for a moment and lets the news sink in before he goes on to tell me about arrangements and paperwork and other shit that doesn’t matter to me right now. She’s gone.
Chapter 1
Grey
I stare at my reflection in the dirty mirror, allowing my eyes to linger on the complete disarray that is my current appearance before I snap myself out of it and pull my thin red hoodie up and over my head. I’ve been on the road for nine hours now and I smell like it. I pull a wad of paper towel from the broken dispenser and wet it with warm water before swiping it under my arms and tossing it in the garbage can. I remove my white tank top and plain cotton bra and repeat the process, this time wiping under my breasts. God, I need a shower. Or a hot bath. Yes, a hot bath with bubbles and candles and the sweet sound of silence. Unfortunately I’m still three hours away from my destination so my little impromptu gas station sponge bath is going to have to do for now. I pull a clean bra and a fresh shirt out of my duffle bag and apply some deodorant. I brush out my blonde hair and smooth it back into a ponytail and after washing my face I’m already starting to feel like a functioning member of the human race. I don’t bother with makeup and roll my dirty clothes into a ball and shove them back into the duffle bag, checking my appearance one more time in the mirror before I
flip the lock and offer an apologetic smile to the woman waiting outside the door. I browse the shelves and settle on an iced tea and a bag of pretzels, reaching for my debit card out of habit before remembering that I emptied my account before I left. I give the young cashier a twenty instead and feel for the thick envelope of extra bills that sits at the bottom of my purse, breathing a bit easier when I feel it beneath my fingertips. I head back out to my car and toss the duffle bag into the back seat where the rest of my luggage sits. I pick up my iPod and plug it in, swiping the screen until I find Miranda Lambert’s latest album. I start the engine and turn the volume up nice and loud, which in my opinion is the only suitable way to listen to music, and crack the window a bit to ease the heat until the AC kicks in. I earn myself a couple passing glances from people as they make their way across the parking lot and into the store. As per usual, I don’t care. I suppose the last six years that I’ve spent stripping my clothes off for a living has desensitized me to the point where I no longer care what people think. I put the car in reverse and pull back onto the highway, blending in with the traffic and singing along with Miranda about her bathroom sink.
It’s late afternoon by the time I reach the town limits of Blue Falls. I pass the familiar sign welcoming me to the community of just under three thousand people and exhale a sigh of relief. Finally. I round the winding bend and feel a sense of peace as I approach the heart of the town. The sidewalks are filled with people coming and going, clearly taking advantage of the warm weather. I roll my window down further and breathe in the fresh air, letting it sit in my lungs for a moment before I exhale. The memory of my parents and I walking along these same streets, eating ice cream and looking for the perfect souvenir makes my heart heavy and my nose tingle. I was thirteen the last time we made the trip and spent our two week summer vacation at a modest bed and breakfast. We’d been coming here every summer since before I could remember. They always used to say that when they were ready to retire they were planning on doing it here. My dad died less than a year after that last trip. My mom followed eventually three months ago. When I found myself unceremoniously in need of a fresh start, the first place that came to mind was the beautiful mountain town they loved so much. I like to think that by coming here and starting over I’m honouring their memory in some way. I have other reasons for making the trip, of course. Blue Falls is safe. I scan the streets as I drive and look for a place to park. I’m positive I look even more dreadful than I did the last time I stopped, but my back is aching and I’m starving. I’ll grab a quick bite to eat and then head over to the small motel where I made my hasty reservation just yesterday from a different motel in a different town. I’ve been travelling for just over three days now and I am sick to death of being on the road. I’m lucky I got a room at all being that summer is just beginning and this place is already crawling with tourists. The price will no doubt be jacked up as well but I should have enough to cover me until I find a job and can earn a paycheck.
I spot an empty space in front of a hardware store and pull in, quickly putting the car in park I turn off the engine and open my door. My stiff muscles rejoice as I stand and lace my fingers together bringing my palms high above my head. I lean side to side and try to work out the kinks as best I can. When I look down I realize my baggy T-shirt has slipped down, exposing my shoulder and the strap of my red bra. The boldly coloured collage of tattoos that cover most of my upper arm and shoulder is exposed as is the large piece on my opposite forearm. I adjust my shirt just as I turn towards the front doors of a hardware store and see a man and little girl walking down the steps. The man doesn’t give me a passing glance but the brown haired little girl pushes her glasses up her nose and stares openly at me, likely at my tattoos. I give her a friendly wave and she giggles, waving back at me as the man gently tugs on her hand and smiles at her while they head down the sidewalk. I open the back door and grab my purse from the floor before I lock the doors and quickly look up and down the street for somewhere close by to eat. I walk about half a block and come to small diner called Rosie’s. I don’t remember this place being here before but a lot has changed in the thirteen years since I was here last. I open the door and I’m instantly assaulted with the heavenly scent of old fashioned home cooking. My mouth begins to water before I’m even across the threshold and as the door shuts with a jingle behind me, a woman spots me from behind the counter and gives me a welcoming smile. She’s on the petite side and looks to be in her forties maybe, her dark brown hair is held back in a messy ponytail and her eyes are warm and sincere.
“Have a seat wherever you like sweetheart, I’ll be right with you,” she says.
I return her smile and choose a small booth beside the window so I can watch the people walk by. I set my purse beside me and pull out my cell, sending a quick message to the only number I have programmed in this phone.
Me: Made it.
I avoid providing details, he’ll know what I mean anyways. My phone chimes a second later with a short response.
DM: Keep your cell with you at all times.
I delete the conversation and scroll through my apps while I wait for the waitress to come by. I snort under my breath when I realize how pathetic it is that I don’t have anyone else to check in with. My mom’s gone now, I have no other family and any so called “friends” that I had were girls at the club and even then, I wouldn’t label them as anything other than superficial acquaintances. I set the phone down and remind myself that this is a fresh start. My fresh start. No more medical bills, no more taking my clothes off for self-entitled customers and no more simply existing. My life begins now.
“Hey there, sorry about that, would you like coffee or something else to drink?” The woman who greeted me now stands beside the table holding a full pot of coffee and a menu.
“Could I just have water please, I think I’ll fly out of here if I drink any more caffeine today.”
“Of course,” she smiles. “I’ll leave this menu with you and be back in five.” Just then the door jingles again and a family of four walks in. “Better make that ten,” she groans before she heads back behind the counter and grabs a handful of menus.
I look around the small diner and notice for the first time that it is almost completely packed. There’s maybe three empty tables in the entire place and it looks like there’s only one waitress. Without thinking too much about it, I toss my phone into my purse and use the longer strap to drape it across my body. I walk up to the sleek counter and duck behind it, grabbing the extra pot of coffee off the burner. I make a round and top up everyone who needs it while the other woman continues to take orders. We meet behind the counter and she hands me a small pad of paper and a pen.
“I assume you can take orders honey?”
“Yes I can,” I smile.
“Girl, you are my guardian angel, take the tables along the window and I’ll take the rest, leave your slips beside the till and I’ll enter them for you. We’ll get you squared up on pay when the dinner rush is over.”
“You got it,” I turn and head towards the first table when she calls out behind me.
“I’m Molly by the way, what’s your name sweetheart?”
I stop short and turn back around. Grey Donovan. “Grey,” I say. My name is Grey Caldwell.”
***