Jamie
Abbie Zanders
Published by Abbie Zanders, 2017.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
JAMIE
First edition. May 30, 2017.
Copyright © 2017 Abbie Zanders.
Written by Abbie Zanders.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Jamie
Before You Begin: A Note from Abbie
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Thanks for reading Jamie and Amy’s story!
Ready for Johnny?
Also by Abbie Zanders
About the Author
Jamie
Connelly Cousins, Book 1.5 (A Novella)
Before You Begin: A Note from Abbie
When I originally wrote the Connelly Cousins trilogy, I hadn’t planned to give Jamie McCullough his own story. His character was the means to an end -—namely the catalyst to bring Celina and Kyle together. Once I had the books edited, however, Jamie ended up with more dimensions than simply a fringe character. He went from being fall guy to full-fledged someone, and I liked him a lot more.
Readers liked him, too, and I began hearing cries of “What happens to Jamie?” and “Doesn’t he get his happily ever after?” I began to think that maybe Jamie did deserve his happy ending, especially after everything I put him through.
So here you have it: Jamie’s story. It originally appeared in the back of Michael’s book as a bonus read. It’s pretty short, but hopefully it will satisfy readers who want him to find love too. After all, I hold true to my promise: Happily Ever Afters, Always.
Enjoy,
Abbie
Acknowledgements
Amazing cover and series design by Marisa @ www.covermedarling.com
Stock photos from www.depositphotos.com and www.pixabay.com
Professional editing by M. E. Weglarz of megedits.com, a woman with a true gift for spotting plot holes, character anomalies, black holes, and other potential WTFs.
And special thanks to some very special ladies – Anjee Z., Carol T., Deb B., Perryne D., Susan J., Tonya B., Becky G., Heather J., Shelly S., and Stacy T. (and a few of you who prefer to remain unnamed – you know who you are) - for reading the first draft and making invaluable suggestions. This is a better story because of them!
Chapter One
“Fuck it.”
Jamie McCullough thumped the leather-wrapped steering wheel with the palm of his hand, jacked the car into reverse, and stomped his foot down on the accelerator harder than usual. The bat-out-of-hell routine was more his brother’s style, but at that moment, he didn’t give a shit. He’d just found out that the woman he’d proposed to was now happily married to his bad boy biker brother.
Apparently, good guys really did finish last.
He jammed the shifter into drive and with tires squealing in haste, narrowly avoided Kyle’s nosy neighbor Tammy. The intrusive cow must have seen his car parked in the driveway and figured she’d get a first-row seat to his humiliation. Either that, or she’d heard the implausible rumor of Kyle’s nuptials through the grapevine and was going to see for herself. The woman had an unparalleled knack for sniffing out juicy gossip, rivaled only by her compulsive need to share it with anyone and everyone with a working set of ears.
Either way, he wanted no part of it.
Jamie barked out a bitter laugh, thinking back to the previous week. After proposing to Celina himself in O’Leary’s Diner (perhaps not his smoothest move), she’d disappeared, and he’d gone to Kyle for help.
Biggest mistake ever.
No, he corrected. The biggest mistake ever was introducing Kyle to Celina in the first place.
Jamie slammed his palm down on the steering wheel and cursed again.
Kyle was married. To Celina. Who could have seen that one coming?
Everyone, apparently, except him. And wasn’t that another kick in the ass?
Jamie took the turn fast enough to feel the body roll and send his spare pair of Ray-Ban aviators sliding off the dash. He and Celina had been dating for six months. Six months. And in all that time, he realized now, he hadn’t known a damn thing about her.
Like how she’d dreamed of owning her own motorcycle.
Or that her older brother was Johnny Connelly, who lived right here in Birch Falls. How could he have missed making that connection? Connelly Construction signs were all over the place.
Nor had he known that her best friend owned a book shop, also right here in town.
The image of the brunette with the pretty hazel eyes popped into his mind, momentarily obscuring the red haze of anger and bruised feelings. Jamie had gone to talk with her a week earlier after Celina had done her disappearing act. In between taking care of customers, she’d listened to him with a sympathetic ear, quietly confirming that there was something going on between Celina and Kyle.
But even then, he hadn’t imagined this.
At the time, the news had come as a shock, but it shouldn’t have. Women loved his dark, brooding brother; they always had. Why should Celina have been any different? Wasn’t it a time-tested, proven fact that good girls were attracted to bad boys?
Despite her highly questionable interest in his brother, Celina was a good girl. Sweet, funny, and intelligent, not to mention beautiful in a fresh, natural kind of way. Not Kyle’s usual, slutty, one-night stand. Celina was the kind of woman a man married.
Obviously, his inner self snorted.
He had no one to blame but himself, he thought miserably. He had been the one who had gone to Kyle in the first place. He had been the one to introduce them. And he had been the one who’d left her alone shortly after, leaving the door wide open for Kyle to waltz right in and take what should have been his.
Goddamn it.
The news still hadn’t completely sunken in. He’d heard the words. Seen the ring on her finger. But his mind was still having trouble processing it. Kyle was all about the biker lifestyle, about living hard and fast, and Celina, well, Celina just wasn’t.
Horns blared when Jamie almost ran a stop sign. He slammed on his brakes, narrowly avoiding the silver sedan crossing in front of him.
“Sorry,” he bit out, offering an apology to the other driver in the form of a wave. The elderly woman scowled and shook her fist at him, then flipped him off.
Once he made it safely through the intersection, Jamie drove about half a block before pulling over to the curb. Distracted driving was not his style, and at that moment, his mind was too busy dealing with the bitterness of betrayal to concentrate properly. The day was turning out to be bad enough without adding vehicular homicide to the mix.
Jamie closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Distracted by his anger, he’d nearly T-boned a senior citizen. Good God, he seriously needed to get a grip.
Chapter Two
After several minutes of deep breathing and repeated counts to ten, the delicious smell of freshly roasted coffee and pastries wafted in through the half-open window and permeated his angry fog. Jamie opened his eyes and looked around. He’d somehow ended up across the street from Amy’s Book Shoppe.
He could see her through the window, moving behind the counter, little more than a flash of chestnut hair as she took care of her customers. He remembered her easy smile, sympathetic eyes,
and that way she had of making people feel welcome.
Before he realized what he was doing, a trio of little bells over the entrance was heralding his arrival.
The interior was reminiscent of a sidewalk café in France: airy, cozy, and subtly romantic. Not crowded, but about half of the small, round tables were occupied. A woman in a power suit sipped a frothy concoction while reviewing some kind of document, occasionally jotting a note in the margins. Two teenagers, dressed in black, sat across from each other, intent on their iPhones. In the corner, an elderly man sat with a massive black Labrador at his feet, reading the paper (the man, not the dog).
There was only one person at the counter: a guy about his age, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt that looked two sizes too small. The tight fit emphasized his broad shoulders and a muscular upper body, which was obviously his intent.
Jamie’s first impression was that the guy didn’t seem to be the type who would frequent a book shop café. Comprehension dawned when Amy turned around to get a fresh carafe and the guy’s eyes fixed on her shapely behind.
The guy’s gaze flicked upwards when she turned around again, but not before Amy caught him ogling. Judging by the way her lips curled down at the corners, his interest was neither welcome nor appreciated.
Strangely enough, Jamie didn’t care for it much, either.
“Jamie!” Amy called in greeting when she spotted him. Her mouth curved into a genuine smile. Was that relief he saw in her eyes?
“Hi Amy,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. He felt the scowl shot his way by Joey Pecs (as he’d mentally dubbed too-small-t-shirt-guy), but didn’t bother acknowledging it. Jamie was used to dealing with Kyle, and Kyle was a hell of a lot more intimidating than some protein-loading gym rat.
“The usual?” Amy asked brightly.
Since he’d only been in the shop twice – one brief visit with Kyle and then a solo stop later to get some answers -—her question surprised him. She met his eyes and waited expectantly until the light bulb in his head finally flicked on.
He gave her what he hoped was a believable smile in return. “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”
Amy busied herself with the impressive-looking machine behind her, then placed a cup in front of him.
“I added an extra shot of espresso, so you don’t nod off halfway through the movie this time,” she told him with a grin.
He chuckled, playing along. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“No worries.” Amy hovered close to him. “That shirt looks awesome on you, by the way. I knew it would the moment I saw it in the store.”
Jamie nearly choked on his drink, but thankfully, kept it together. He could feel Joey Pecs’s scowl darken before the guy threw a couple of bills down on the table and walked out.
“Thank you. Have a nice day!” she called out cheerfully.
The smile faded from Amy’s face. “Thank you,” she told him earnestly, her shoulders sagging in relief. “That guy just didn’t want to take no for an answer.”
“Glad I could help.” Jamie nodded. Help. That’s what nice guys did, right?
She slid a small ceramic plate in front of him. He looked down into a delicious looking cream cheese and pineapple Danish. “On the house.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know it’s not necessary. It’s a thank you, okay? Just go with it.”
Until then he hadn’t had much of an appetite. His stomach had been twisted in knots. Apparently playing the hero loosened up a few of them, and it did smell awfully good. Normally, he didn’t indulge in sweets, but he didn’t want to offend her. He broke off a piece with his fork and brought it to his lips. The flaky pastry melted in his mouth. As good as it smelled, it tasted even better.
“I take it you heard the news, huh?” she asked, not unkindly.
He nodded.
“You okay?”
Was he? He felt betrayed. Blindsided. His male ego wasn’t just in bruised, it had been shredded and tossed in the toilet. Self-doubt reared its ugly head again, bringing with it a litany of the same questions he’d been asking himself ad nauseum: Where had he gone wrong? What could he have said or done differently?
Warmth seeped in where her small hand rested over his. “It’s nothing you did, Jamie,” she said quietly as if reading his mind. “Those two were meant to be together.”
He snorted softly and broke off another piece of the Danish. He didn’t want to hear any more about insta-love or croies or any of that other crap. Solid, lasting relationships were not based on a flare of lust or a flash of black leather and the rumble of a Harley. They took time and effort, and God knew, he’d put a hell of a lot more time and effort into his relationship with Celina than Kyle had.
Jamie opened his mouth to say so but changed his mind when he looked into Amy’s clear hazel eyes. Flecks of gold sparkled with the ridiculous notion of romantic fantasy. Hey, if she wanted to believe in all that fated soul-mate stuff, he wasn’t going to be the insensitive dick who burst her bubble.
He couldn’t completely withhold his scowl, though. Amy pulled her hand away with an apologetic look and went to ring up a customer.
Shit. Had she thought he was angry with her? He was really batting a thousand today, wasn’t he?
He needed to tone down the glower. Amy didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his bad attitude; she’d been nothing but kind to him.
He watched her out of his peripheral vision as she moved with an easy grace behind the counter. She had a quiet confidence about her. A smile and a nice word for everyone – even the tool who’d been hitting on her. Because of that, these last five minutes had been the best part of his rotten day. He wasn’t particularly anxious to leave, either.
“So, what are we seeing tonight?” he asked on a sudden impulse when she returned with a fresh cup of coffee. He wasn’t sure what kind it was, but it was rich and bold, just as he liked it.
She blinked in confusion, then a pretty, rose-colored blush tinted her cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t mean...” she grinned shyly, revealing a hint of a dimple. It was kind of adorable, really. “It was a clutch call on my part.”
Yeah, he knew. But the thought of seeing a movie with her seemed a hell of a lot better than going back to his place alone and sharing his sorrow with a bottle of Southern Comfort. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but if he left now, that was exactly what was going to happen.
“So you don’t want to see a movie with me?”
The blush deepened. “I didn’t say that.”
“So you do want to see a movie with me.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“Then what exactly are you saying, Amy?”
She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out in a carefully controlled exhale. As she leaned in and lowered her voice, he caught the subtle whiff of vanilla.
“I’m saying that I appreciate the save, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to follow thru on what was clearly a desperate attempt to stop that guy from coming on to me.”
“Oh.” Jamie took a drink from his cup, then broke off another forkful of heaven and chewed thoughtfully, dissecting her words. She hadn’t come right out and said she didn’t want to go to the movies with him. Maybe she was just being kind, but at the moment, he’d take a bit of kindness.
“I mean, if you actually did want to, I wouldn’t say no,” she added, avoiding his eyes. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to. Go to the movies, I mean. With me.”
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was nervous, but he dismissed that possibility as quickly as it came. More likely, she was worried about saying the wrong thing and earning another scowl. Either way, he still didn’t know if she was interested in seeing a movie or simply too kind to deny him outright.
At this point, he wasn’t above a pity date.
Before he could respond, she bolted out from behind the counter to refill the older guy’s coffee cup and slip a scone to the Lab. Then she scurried over to the cash re
gister and rang up a book purchase. It gave him a few minutes to process things. If nothing else, the last few weeks had taught him that he wasn’t nearly as good at figuring out what a woman was thinking as he thought he was.
Perhaps it was time to give the direct approach a try.
“Amy,” he said when she came back and picked up his now-empty plate, “I’m going to ask you a simple question and I’d like a simple, honest answer. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said carefully.
“Would you like to see a movie with me tonight?”
“I would,” she admitted. “But only if you want to.”
“I want to.” He hesitated, then added, “Look, I’m just going to be honest, okay? I’m not having a great day, and I could use a friendly face and a couple of hours where I don’t have to think.”
Her head tilted slightly to the side as she considered his words. “All right then,” she nodded. “Since we’re being honest, I’ve been dying to see that new sci-fi flick that everyone’s been talking about.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sci-fi? I figured you for a romantic comedy, chick-flick type.”
“Pffft,” she scoffed. “That stuff is great in books, where I can form my own mental images.” That lovely pink tint rose in her cheeks again, and he wondered exactly what kind of books she read. “But high-action, special-effect blockbusters are best experienced in 3D movie theaters with surround sound, in my opinion.”
“True,” he laughed, secretly glad he wouldn’t have to spend a couple of hours sitting through some sappy, tender storyline after just having his heart ripped out and handed back to him. “Should we hit an early show?”
Her smile faded. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m here by myself today.”
That explained her constant bustling. “What time do you close?”
“Eight.”
He pulled out his phone and checked the show times. “There’s a show at eight thirty and one at eleven.”
Jamie: Connelly Cousins, Book 1.5 Page 1