by Brooks, Abby
Happily.
The yaps of an excited Yorkshire terrier interrupted Juliet’s moment of reflection.
Fucking Lulu, she thought with a grin she couldn’t contain. If it wasn’t for that dog and her apparent love-hate relationship with seawater, her path might never have crossed Ian’s.
She turned to see what predicament the dog had gotten herself into and found Ian trudging through the sand a few feet behind the bounding animal, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“Thought you might be thirsty.” His eyes met hers and his pace slowed as Lulu bolted toward the ocean. “But now I see that you might already be deep in thought and maybe just want me to drop off the bottle and give you some space.”
Juliet smiled. “Space?” She patted the sand beside her. “There’s space for you right here.”
There always had been, and always would be. She finally had the confidence to admit she could make it alone—if she had to. But she knew with Ian in her life, she’d never have to be alone again. And why would she want to?
The way he smiled.
The look in his eyes—an unspoken tenderness that reminded her the worst days were behind her and the best days stretched ahead.
“Lilah’s shindig is in a few hours.” Ian pushed the base of his wine glass into the sand and sat back on his hands. “You sure you should be out here?”
Juliet furrowed her brow. “Why shouldn’t I be out here?”
“Lilah takes her engagement parties very seriously. If you were to, oh, I don’t know, get too much sun, that could completely throw off the balance of everything she has planned.”
With a laugh, Juliet closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky. “We surely wouldn’t want to do that, now would we?”
“You laugh now, but you haven’t seen Lilah on a rampage. If you’re even one shade too pink…” Ian trailed off, his gaze traveling Juliet’s features.
“What? Am I already the wrong color?” She tentatively touched a cheek, gauging for tenderness.
“Just like looking at you.” His smile continued to grow.
“You better. Because pink, pale, or lobster red, this face will be the first thing you wake up to and the last thing you see each and every day for the rest of your days.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ian crossed his legs and sat forward, brushing sand off his hands and Juliet shrugged.
“Who’s to say you won’t change your mind. James and Erin thought they had the kind of love that lasts…” She trailed off, thinking about Ian’s younger brother. The shit-eating grin that lit up his face as he carried furniture into Juliet’s house had disappeared after Erin left. He drank more. Talked less. She’d considered not having an engagement party because she felt bad, asking him to come, but Lilah had insisted.
Ian took Juliet’s hands. “My sweet, sweet girl. I’m not gonna lie to you and say we won’t have problems. What we will do is work through them. James and Erin…” He sighed and shook his head. “They were too young when they got together. As they got older, they grew apart, but instead of dealing with the problems that created, they ignored them.”
Juliet pressed her forehead to his. “I just can’t imagine losing you.”
“Good. Because you won’t. I won’t let that happen.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips, then stilled, his body frozen. When she opened her eyes, she found Ian staring, looking horrified.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t look now,” he said, “but I think I see…a freckle!” He tapped a finger to her nose. “Lilah’s going to lose her mind.”
She slapped his arm. “I thought there was something really wrong!”
Ian cupped her face and kissed her thoroughly, passionately. He shifted onto his knees so he could take her into his arms. All thoughts of freckles, Lilah, James, or Erin dissipated.
“As long as I’m with you,” he said, his lips brushing hers, “nothing will ever be wrong again.”
* * *
Thank you so much for reading Ian and Juliet’s sweet and sexy romance! I hope you loved them!
Are you worried about poor James and broken heart? So is Ellie Charles, owner and proprietor of Good Beginnings—especially after he asks her to fake a relationship with him to keep his family off his back!
One-click FAKING BLISS now!
Looking for signed books or more information on all things Abby Brooks? Check out my website!
www.abbybrooksfiction.com
Turn the page for an excerpt from FAKING BLISS…
Faking Bliss Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Ellie
“Just because they make it in your size, doesn’t mean you’ll look good wearing it!”
Ellie Charles cringed.
Again.
The asshole at the bar wasn’t making any friends at Hurricane’s that night. And the line of loud-mouthed buddies beside him? Hooting and hollering at everything he said? Yeah. They weren't helping. His latest comment probably offended half the women in earshot.
Ellie included.
He’d grown louder and more abrasive over the last half hour, his jokes more malicious. His words more slurred. His friends had no plans to come to his rescue either—they were too busy snickering at every chauvinistic jeer that came out of his mouth.
Apparently, Ellie wasn't the only one who’d had enough. “Just because you have a mouth, doesn’t mean you have a right to use it,” yelled a feminine voice from somewhere inside the bar—Ellie’s favorite in her hometown of Bliss, South Carolina.
Well, everyone's favorite, really.
There wasn't a night that Hurricane’s wasn't the place to be.
“And just because you have a dick doesn’t mean you have to be a one,” yelled someone else.
“Or get to use it,” Ellie muttered, loud enough for the people at tables around her to hear. After the chuckles died down, she wiggled a little in her chair and tugged at her shirt, suddenly self-conscious that the asshole was talking about her. She’d agonized over what to wear that night, afraid everything she put on was clingy in all the wrong ways.
You look fine, she told herself as she checked her watch. Don’t let that jerk get in your head.
Of course, it looked like it wasn’t going to what she was wearing at all…since her date was officially over half an hour late.
Stood up.
Again.
What a surprise.
Online dating really sucked when you lived in a small town and already knew you didn’t want to date anyone in it. She traced a finger around the edge of her glass and sighed.
Her waitress—a barely-old-enough-to-be-legal bleached blonde named Ashley—sidled up to her table, eyes focused on the loud-mouthed jerk and his friends. “Ready for another?” she asked, barely glancing Ellie’s way.
“Thanks, but I think I’m just gonna call it an evening.” Ellie reached for her purse and paused when Ashley didn't take the hint and give her the bill.
“That guy’s really putting them down.” Ashley leaned forward, peering around Ellie to watch Mr. Drunk and Disorderly. With her elbows on the table and her boobs spilling out of her low-cut t-shirt, she turned to Ellie. “But he sure is a looker.” She bit her lower lip, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Ellie stared at the waitress for several seconds wondering what she was expected to say to that. Was she supposed to giggle and turn around, forgetting the guy had made a total ass of himself for the last forty-five minutes? Just because he was good looking?
Uh-uh.
No way.
She was so over jerks.
Over men in general, actually, since all her experience with the opposite sex to that point indicated you couldn’t be a man without being a jerk.
The friendly smile fell off Ashley's face and she straightened. “So, uh, just your check then?” Ellie watched the girl fidget and pull at the edges of her extra-short shorts and felt bad. Sure, she was disappointed to have w
asted an evening waiting for one more guy to let her down, but that wasn’t Ashley’s fault.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie puffed out her cheeks. “Bad night.” She flared her fingers and then pulled her long, curly hair up off her neck and draped it over a shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
I’ll have to leave her a decent tip, she thought. I’ve been at her table for forty-five minutes and only ordered one drink.
“Maybe you need something with a little more kick than plain old Diet Coke,” said the girl with a smile. “Turn a bad night into a better night.”
Ellie shook her head and sat back in her chair. “No, thank you,” she started then paused.
Why shouldn’t she let herself have a little fun? What else was she going to do? Go home and watch TV?
There she was, all dressed up at her favorite bar, with people laughing and joking around her…mostly anyway, thanks again to the jerk and his friends. The band was setting up, which meant there’d be dancing later, and Ellie did love to dance. She didn’t need a guy to have a little fun.
“You know what?” she said and pursed her lips. “Maybe I do need something a little stronger. One drink won’t hurt, right?”
Ashley sat back on her heels and jutted a hip. “Might even make things better.”
“They certainly can’t get much worse,” Ellie added before ordering a Long Island Iced Tea. Ashley grabbed her empty Diet Coke and sidled away, eyes drifting back to the jerk at the bar.
Can he really be that hot? Ellie wondered. I’m mean, really?
Ellie couldn’t help it; she turned in her seat to see for herself. The light wasn’t great at Hurricane’s but it didn’t matter because she’d know that guy anywhere.
Mr. Drunk and Disorderly…
…the jerk who’d managed to alienate just about every female in the room…
…the guy surrounded by a throng of asshats egging him on and patting him on the back every time he took a shot or said something else that made him sound like a class-A douchenozzle…
…that was James Moore.
The James Moore.
The infamous second son of the wealthiest family in Bliss.
Like old money wealthy. Like, Ellie was fairly sure James had never held down a job in his life and still managed to have everything he’d ever wanted. And then some.
To top it off, he was absolutely the best-looking man she’d ever seen—TV and movies included. With dark hair and dark eyes that always managed to look like he could see into your soul. Tattoos that wound up both arms and disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt. Not to forget about his broad shoulders and a body so hard, so rockin’, she couldn’t help but want to rock it hard all night long.
For Ellie, James Moore had been sex on a stick since just about forever. The personification of everything she’d ever wanted in a man. She’d had a crush on him since puberty, but he’d been off the market for just as long.
Only, as of about two months ago, James Moore finally became single.
After dating the same girl since middle school, after getting engaged and planning a wedding, setting his heart on a future with her, they called it all off. Word on the street was that she’d been cheating on him. And suddenly, the happy-go-lucky, quick-with-a-smile James, a guy that could make anyone feel special with just a few words, fell to pieces. Ellie had watched it all, her heart breaking for him as his shattered in front of the entire town.
Ashley returned with her drink. “He’s smokin’ hot, right?” she asked, catching Ellie staring at James. “I think I dated his cousin once. Way back when.”
Ellie took a long drink, her eyes trained on James’ back. “He sure is.”
And he always has been.
Chapter Two
Ellie
The band took their place on the small stage at the back of the bar and the crowd cheered, stomping their feet on the ground and patting their hands on tables. Ellie changed seats, telling herself it was because she wanted to watch them play, but knowing it had more to do with wanting to keep an eye on James. Judging by his slurred words earlier, he’d already had too much to drink, but that didn’t seem to faze him. As she sipped her Long Island, she watched him down shots like they were water as his friends whooped and hollered, oblivious to the cold looks they were getting from the other patrons.
That wasn’t the James Moore she knew. She could hardly imagine the guy who came into Good Beginnings—the cafe and coffee shop she opened a year ago—and joked with her every Sunday morning being so…awful.
So self-destructive.
She didn’t recognize the guys he was with. Either they weren’t from Bliss, or they’d been hiding under a rock.
James slammed a shot glass down on the bar. “Fuck yeah!” he shouted and the apes around him roared their appreciation, slapping him on the back and calling for more drinks.
“Shut up, asshole!” yelled someone near the band.
That was all Ellie could take. She couldn’t watch it anymore.
James was so much better than what was happening. He just needed someone to remind him. Since no one else was stepping up to the plate, that someone would be her.
She finished her drink—nothing like a little liquid courage!—and stood, catching Ashley’s eye and indicating the guys so the waitress wouldn’t think she left without paying. She made her way through the crowded room toward the group of men at the bar.
“Hey…” She put her hand on James’ broad back and leaned around him so she could see his face. “James, it’s Ellie Charles. How ya doin’?”
“Hey! Ellie!” James’ eyes lit up like seeing her was the best thing that happened to him all night. He opened his arms wide and pulled her in for a tight hug—but the fact that she was still half-leaning down made it all kinds of awkward. The muscles in his arms were hard and the muscles in his chest even harder, almost enough to hurt as he crushed her against him.
The experience was nothing like she’d imagined.
“Step back, bitch. He’s out of your league.” The statement came from the guy sitting on the stool behind her. Heat flared across her cheeks and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed or pissed. As soon as she finished the thought, she knew the answer: Both.
James scowled at the guy. “Hey,” he warned, narrowing his eyes as he leveled a finger at his buddy. “This is my friend Ellie and you’re out of her league, so why don’t you shut the hell up?” A smile broke across James’ face and he released her. Another one of his friends high-fived him while she readjusted her shirt.
So this is what it’s like at a frat house. No wonder I skipped college.
“Have a shot with me, Ellie.” James had his hands on her again, pulling her hips as if he wanted her to sit on his lap. Under other circumstances, she’d have been all for it. He was James fricken Moore, for frick’s sake! But, considering how much she'd seen him drink already that evening, she wasn’t interested in being one of his bad decisions.
Ellie pulled out of his hands and leaned on the bar next to him. “Hey, listen,” she said, trying not to get lost in his sexy eyes. Where’d he get those perfect lips? she thought, unable to help the smile that stretched across her face. He was so handsome. His square jaw and Roman nose could have been chiseled from stone. His dark eyes were amber mixed with mahogany…
So much for not getting lost.
“What’s up?” he asked, and Ellie reeled from the blast of tequila on his breath.
“Do me a favor, okay? Why don’t you take it easy on the drinks? In fact, you’ve probably had enough already, so why don’t you let me take you home?” Ellie swallowed, suddenly feeling awkward as all hell.
Why didn’t she ever think before she did anything?
Who did she think she was, coming over and telling him how to handle his business?
James’ eyes went wide, and he threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll make a deal with you, Ellie Charles, goddess of Sunday morning coffee. I’ll consider letting you take me
home on one condition.” He leaned in close…closer than she’d ever been with him. Ellie couldn’t decide if she was more turned off by the stench of liquor on his breath or more turned on by the electricity charging the space between them. She nearly whimpered, then swallowed hard and got control of herself.
“What condition is that?”
“You come dance with me.” James angled his head toward the back of the bar, where the band played a fast song, the singer clutching the microphone to his mouth and tapping his head and foot as the guitarist's fingers flew over the fretboard. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up. Which I get ‘cause, you know, I’m one hell of a good dancer.” James shrugged and his gaze darted to her lips while his mouth formed the sexiest little smirk she’d ever seen.
She needed to say no.
She knew that.
Her best bet was to disengage and walk away.
But she’d fantasized about dancing with James since her Junior Prom. Who was she to pass on the chance to bring a dream to reality? She was only human, after all.
“Alright, but you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, my friend.” Ellie straightened and offered James her hand as she backed away from the bar. Ignoring the curious stares from the people around them and the nasty remarks from the guys on either side of James, she let him lead her onto the dancefloor.
The man wasn’t lying. James knew how to dance. But Ellie was no slouch herself and before she knew it, she was laughing and smiling and enjoying the hell out of the smoldering eye contact he kept locking on her.
Sure, he was drunk.
Sure, he’d spent the last hour or so being an inebriated jerk, but that was the past.
She was getting to dance with the James Moore…a man who kept looking at her like she might be something special, too.
The song ended and the band rolled into another, much slower and sexier. Without missing a beat, James pulled Ellie close, one arm reaching around her waist, the other clasping her free hand.