Someone told me once that love blurs things and I get that now. It makes things that were once important not so much anymore. It makes things that might’ve been on the back burner now the most important thing in the world. It reinvigorates you, puts passion back into your work. It refills your tank, pours fuel into your reserves and with it, you realize how many holes you had draining it.
She’s that for me.
Brynne Calloway is the love of my life.
She comes around the corner, a drink matching mine in her hand, a tiny pink bikini tied around her. It covers basically nothing and I know she’s wearing it just to rile me up. It works.
I’m getting better about it, but I can’t help it. I pull my sunglasses off my nose and peer up at her.
“How’s your drink?” she grins.
“Did you walk around the entire boat like that?”
“Like what?” She looks down at herself, running a finger dampened with the sweat from the glass down her stomach. “Like this?”
“Yes, like this.” I pull her onto my lap, catching her lips with mine. I remind her she’s mine, that regardless of how much she taunts me, plays with me, regardless of who she lets see her in a fucking string bikini, at the end of the day, and every hour in between, she’s my girl.
“I like it when you’re all pissy,” she giggles, bringing the glass to her lips. She toys with the straw with her tongue, making my cock harden.
“You’re going to get fucked.”
“What’s new?” she sighs, but ends it with a laugh. “How much more do I have to do to get you to lay me out right here again?”
“Well, being that lunch is just about to be served, that’s not happening. No one is seeing what’s left of you behind that scrap of fabric.”
She sweeps her lips against mine and settles back against me. We watch the boat float along the waves, the beach of the island just in sight.
“It’s been a great couple of weeks,” she breathes. “I’m so glad I came with you.”
“I wouldn’t have come without you.” I kiss her shoulder, her skin hot against my mouth. She smells all vanilla-y and I want to lick her, suck her, eat her like a fucking dessert. “And you’ll never come without me again.”
She laughs at my innuendo. “They always said you know when you know, you know?” she grins.
“What? You lost me.”
“People. They say that. That when you meet The One, you know it.”
“I knew it when I saw you.”
“Did you?”
I nod, kissing her shoulder again. “I didn’t know I knew it, but I did. I know it now.”
She laughs, the sound music to my ears. It always will be. It’s the sound of fulfilling my goal, of making her happy. It’s all I want, really, at the end of the day.
“I knew it, too. Maybe not that first day. That day I just wanted to fuck you.”
“Language, Brynne.”
“Yes, it’s language,” she winks. “But in Vegas, I knew. You were just so kind and smart and sexy.”
“You just want me for my body, don’t you?”
Her fingers dip down my chest and over my abs. I flex them under her touch, just so she sees how ripped I am. I didn’t do a hundred pushups this morning for nothing.
“No, not just for your body. But it doesn’t hurt.” She settles against me again, her hair draping over my shoulder. I draw little obscure pictures on her stomach and listen to her little breaths. “How long are we staying at sea?”
“As long as you want.”
“When do you have to go back to work? You said a couple of weeks when we left.”
I shrug. “I hired Duke full time at Nzou. He can handle most of the shit. I check in every morning while you’re asleep. So as long as nothing catastrophic happens, I could stay here forever.”
“I don’t know about forever.”
“I could stay wherever you are forever.”
“Now that I could do,” she grins. She locks her hand with mine and rests them on her stomach. We feel the anchor being pulled up and we will be starting our departure for the next island. “Where do we go now?”
“Such a loaded question.”
“I know,” she laughs nervously. “You can take that to mean either thing—where are we going in this boat or, you know, where are we going in life?”
I think about it before responding. I know what I want to say, to the last part of that specifically. I want to go into the rest of my life with her by my side. I can’t see it any other way. I won’t have it any other way.
I wait until she almost gets antsy before answering. “You got one thing right.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s where we are going in life.” I watch her face light up and it makes me stupidly happy. “Me and you, Brynne. Wherever one of us goes, the other has to go too.”
She kisses me gently, her hand playing in my hair. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Her eyes shine almost as brightly as the smile on her face. I take a deep breath before tossing my next words into the world. “I’d like to try that.”
Her brows pull together. “Try what?”
“Try . . . forever.”
“Fent!” She scrambles into a sitting position, a hand clutching her heart. “Are you serious?”
I nod slowly. I hope this is a good reaction, but I can’t tell. My hand shakes slightly as I brush a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m completely serious. I know we haven’t known each other a long time and you’ve been pissed for a lot of what we have—”
“Fent. Shut up,” she giggles, pressing her lips against mine. When she pulls back, she locks our hands together. “I love you. Of course I’d like to try forever with you. But I have to admit one thing.”
“What’s that, rudo?”
“I thought we already were.”
Pulling her into me, I kiss the top of her head. “I think we have been since that day in the market. There’s been something about you from the start and it’s just gotten deeper and deeper. I kept thinking it would go away or I’d get distracted or see the foolishness in my thinking, but I didn’t. Instead, I fell farther in love with you.” Squeezing her tight, I can’t fight the grin on my face. “But, yeah, we are. I just needed you to know it officially.”
We sit together for a long time, the yacht starting to move again. Brynne’s hand splays across my chest, right above my heart. I almost tell her how fitting it is, that she holds my heart in the palm of her hand, but I don’t. I figure she already knows it and, if she doesn’t, I’ll make sure to show her every day for the rest of my life.
“So . . .” she says, tilting her chin to face me. “Forever means forever.”
“It does.”
“Does this mean, you know, you’re going to ask me to marry you?”
I laugh. “It means you shouldn’t be so nosey and try to spoil surprises.”
“So there are surprises?” She squeals like a little girl and it makes me laugh harder. “Do you have a ring already? Do you have a spot picked out?”
“What part of surprise do you not understand?”
“The part that means I don’t know! Presley doesn’t know, does she?” she gasps. “She better not!”
“Will. You. Relax?” I pull her on top of me so that she’s straddling me. “Let things work themselves out.”
“But what if they don’t? What if something happens and—”
“They always work out, don’t they? All the bad things that have happened to you—they got you here. With me. Right?”
She nods, still unsure.
“You have to have some trust in life, Brynne. A little hope that things will work out as they should. Look at Brady. He’s off banging your best friend—”
“What?” she shrieks.
“I talked to him today. He and Presley are having quite a little getaway in Lake Tahoe. It’s been a long time coming, I think.”
“I . . .”
She’s rendered spee
chless. Her lips pout together and I can’t help but kiss them.
“So have a little faith in the world, rudo. Have just a little faith that the current will take you wherever you’re supposed to go, that wherever it leads is where you’re supposed to be.”
“Is that like following your heart?” she smiles.
“Yeah. Kind of. Someone told me that once—to follow my heart.”
“Did you do it?”
“Yeah. I followed it right to you.”
She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Her eyes blur and it looks like she’s going to cry. “I just . . . I can’t wait to be your forever.”
“You already are.”
The End
Before anyone or anything, I’d like to thank the Creator for all the blessings in my life. Sure, sometimes things go bad. But I’ve come to learn that there’s always a reason and, more importantly, He’s always there and has my back.
I would like to thank Mr. Locke, the love of my life, and the Littles, Alex, Ares, Achilles, and Ajax, “The A-Team”, for being my biggest cheerleaders. They root me on endlessly, even when I’m holed up in my office trying to meet a deadline. I’m not sure why I have been blessed with the best family ever, but I’ll keep them.
My mother talks with pride about my books, even though she claims she wishes they were ‘a little less dirty’. She makes me laugh and encourages me to follow my dreams and I could never tell her what that means to me. The inspiration behind Max Quinn’s mom in The Perception, she’s pretty great. Thanks, Mama.
The support I receive from my in-laws is overwhelming. They never fail to cheer me on and spread the word and I’m eternally blessed to call Rob and Peggy family.
My sister-in-laws have always treated me like one of their own. Jami’s notes of encouragement always make me smile. Fawn is always there to answer questions and to take brilliant photographs of my books. Aimee is as excited about my venture as anyone. I may not have sisters by blood, but I couldn’t love any as much as I love the three of you.
I’m blessed with the best friends a girl could ever ask for. Kari March gives me advice straight on, no bells and whistles, just like I need it. Jenn Costa answers the phone and listens to me ramble, even when I expect her to have had enough. Mandi Beck keeps me on schedule with our sprints and sane with her filterless antics.
I’d like to thank Michele for checking the hotness level, Susan for loving Fenton early, and Joy for taking on a job she wasn’t sure she wanted. Ninfa loaned her sweet heart, Jen P gave me her valuable time, and Yvette stepped in without even knowing me and gave me her all. Thank you all madly.
Once again, my team came through for me in a spectacular fashion! Thanks to Kari with Kari March Designs, Christine with Perfectly Publishable, and Lisa with Adept Edits for making my book come alive. Hugs to Jillian at Jillian’s Polished Proofs for making sure we didn’t miss anything! Thanks to Jen at Kinky Girls Book Obsessions for helping me with my pre-release teasers. And, last but certainly not least, thank you to Kylie at Give Me Books for organizing my release events. I’m in awe of each of your talents and humbled you all continue to work with me.
Candy Collins (The Locke Librarian) and Brandy Castenada took my plea for help late one night and answered. Thank you both for giving me information I needed; you made such a different in the final product of this book. I appreciate your kindness.
Speaking of kindness, thank you to Stephanie Gibson, Dawn Costiera, Karen McVino, Kiki Amit, Robin Bruce, Jen Lynn, Serena McDonald, Robin Keck, Lisa Gandy, Jade Hyland, Lexy Storries, and Chandra Gillig. You make me smile each and every day.
To my peers—SL Scott, Heidi McLaughlin, Staci Hart, Seraphina Donavan, Angie McKeon, K. Langston, Randa Lynn, Olivia Evans, and Brooke Cumberland: Thank you for always being available to answer questions and give advice and, most importantly, for your friendship.
My Facebook group, Books by Adriana Locke, and Goodreads group, All Locked Up, give me more support than I can articulate. Thank you all, each and every one of you, for your participation, excitement, energy, and love. You keep me going.
My eleventh grade English teacher, Mrs. Mitchell, made me a writer. She took my papers and pushed me, encouraged me, and gave me the tools to use later in life. She made such a difference and, although I haven’t talked to her in decades, I’d like to put good karma into the universe for her.
And, of course, my Instagram girls! How could I forget you?
book_ish_life, kinkygirlsbookobsessions, abwobookblog, henrycavillorg, d1mpld1, innergoddess_booklover, ktreister, mixlovesbooks, caramaterowski, 73jem, booksandbandanas, tiffany.the.bibliophile, readsbyrose, thereadingruth, fictionxfreak, lovekellankyle, charliehunnamforever, cozy_dita, jangare, most_beautifulmen, virginiacny, emmbooks, lakel24vr, bookobsessedgirl, rentasticreads, maciereads, ig_kayla, bookangels_, kshadows, heatherlynb1988, jenifrmthebloc, mg_herrera, love50shadesx, bookit18, smuttybooklover
Thank you to the blogs that jumped on board for my release day events and to those that have supported me in the past. You allow me to write and get my words to the world. You are so appreciated.
And, of course, thank YOU. I appreciate you picking up my book and giving it a chance. I’d love to hear what you think! My contact links are on the next page—please find me and let’s chat!
xo,
Addy
USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.
Besides cinnamon gummy bears and random quotes, her next favorite thing is chatting with readers. She’d love to hear from you.
Contact Adriana
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Continue on for an excerpt from Sacrifice, as well as the first chapter from Staci Hart’s newest release, Last Call, available now!
Crew
The slush crunches beneath my boots, my breath billowing away from my body.
I bow my head deeper, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt out from under my jacket to cover more of my face. I toggle the paper sack in my other arm, hoping nothing spills out on the wet asphalt. Remnants of the last snow are piled beneath the trees and mound in the shadows of the large apartment complexes looming above.
The neighborhood is alive despite the bitter cold. People sit on the porches of their apartments and duplexes, some toking shit that sure as fuck isn’t tobacco. Smoke rolls from the chimneys of the few single family houses in the area. Most of them are dilapidated, nearly rotting to the ground.
I grit my teeth.
I hate that they live here.
The apartment comes into view. A wooden chair is placed at the right of the door, a faded red and yellow striped pillow sitting on it. The steps of the porch are piss-poor and I have to sidestep the second one. The right side has a gash splitting the wood and I’m pretty certain if I stepped on it, I would fall through. I grimace and make a note to call her landlord. Piece of shit might not give two fucks about this place now, but he will.
I’ll make sure of it.
I bang against the door with my knuckle. It is a cold fucking day, even for Boston at the end of February. It made for a long day unloading cargo at the shipyard. The afternoon warmed a little, but now that the sun is going down, the chill is biting through my Carhartt jacket. I bring my hands to my mouth and rub them together, blowing on them to warm them up.
I knock again, getting impatient. I hear music playing on the other side of the wood,
the John Mayer stuff she’s always loved.
A loud commotion, something like a piece of wood smashing something followed by a scream, comes from the apartment next door. Cold and irritated, I turn the handle to give it a flick, thinking the jingle will make her give in and open it. My jaw tenses when it begins to swing free. A chip of paint from the door falls to the tile below.
What the hell is she thinking?
I walk in, brushing the hood off my head and scan the kitchen. The music is playing from her phone on the counter and a pot of something bubbles on the old gas stove. I notice that she’s got a sink full of dishes, which isn’t like her. She’s normally spot-on when it comes to details, taking care of everything she can control. It can be annoying as hell, but I figure it’s some kind of reaction to all the shit she’s not able to control in her life.
I plop the bag down on the table, rattling the basket of apples that sat upon it. When she comes around the corner, her brown eyes go wide as she grabs at the doorframe, obviously not expecting me.
“Damn it, Crew!” Julia says, clutching her chest with one hand. Her shoulders relax and a small sigh escapes her lips. I’m cautiously optimistic that maybe she’s relieved to see me, but it’s short-lived.
She throws her shoulders back and narrows her eyes. I don’t know exactly what effect it was supposed to have on me, but it’s a good thing I don’t really care.
“Lock your fucking door,” I growl, returning her glare. “You’re lucky it’s me and not some asshole from one of the apartments across the street.”
“Lucky it’s you.” Sarcasm is thick in her voice as she shakes her head, her long black locks swinging side-to-side. She walks toward the stove and shuts off the music.
I crack the paper bag with the back of my hand, making her flinch. “I brought you some stuff.”
“Stop bringing me stuff.”
She keeps her back to me, picking up a lid and slamming it on a pot. I know she’s not happy to see me because she never is.
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