What she had to say to him that day still shocks me now, and it’s something I don’t ever think I’ll understand.
It turned out that while I had a false alarm, Rebecca was twelve weeks pregnant. Her other half had also been offered a job in Los Angeles and in her quest for the perfect life, they got straight on a plane. She told Harrison that she was handing full custody of Cassie and Alfie over to him and that she’d see them when they came back, although she gave no indication of when that would be.
Harrison was mortified. Not for him; he couldn’t care less what Rebecca did, but for his kids. I was just utterly bemused. How could a mother just abandon her kids? Just toss them aside so flippantly, like they mean nothing and start a whole new life without them?
Once Harrison had calmed down, he got straight on the phone to the twins’ school to tell them they wouldn’t be returning before calling in some favours at his old school and enrolling them there instead.
Amazingly, Cassie and Alfie took the news very well. Neither of them had outwardly told me what they thought of their mum, but it was clear they weren’t her biggest fans. When Harrison explained that we’d love for them to live with us instead of boarding, they were over the moon.
From that day, my life was once again turned upside down as I embarked on being a real stepmom. As I helped with homework and attended both riding lessons and football matches with the other mothers, I signed up to start the art course I’ve always dreamed of.
This morning is my first day, and although I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember, I’m terrified.
My hands tremble as I sit in the front seat of the car, my nerves getting the better of me. Harrison sits beside me with an amused smile on his face the entire journey to the twins’ school.
Once we’re alone, he turns to me, his smile still in place. “I’m so proud of you.”
A lump forms in my throat and tears sting my eyes.
Reaching over, he grabs my hands in his and squeezes. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just no one’s ever—” A sob cuts off my words.
He drops one of my hands and wraps his around the back of my neck so he can pull me to him.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me so deeply and passionately it’s just like the first time again. When he pulls back, I’m a panting ball of lust, my nerves totally forgotten in favour of focusing on what he does to me.
“You ready to start school?” he asks with a wink before putting the car in reverse and heading towards a future I’ve always dreamed of.
Are you ready for Zach?
His story HATE YOU is coming 23rd April 2020.
Add to your TBR now or continue reading for a sneak peak!
Acknowledgments
I knew while I was writing His Manhattan that it wasn’t going to be the end of Summer and Harrison’s story. They still had so much left to tell, and I know many readers felt the same. I hope this conclusion and their happily ever after was what you were looking for.
I’ve got so many people to thank for both this book and His Manhattan. Firstly, Frankie Love and the other Cocktail Girls authors. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have happened. I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to take part in the Cocktail Girls series. It’s been such fun working with you all on our collaborations, and I’m so excited about what we have coming in the future. All of you have made such a difference to my writing career and the way it’s heading.
Michelle, my incredible alpha reader, thank you for sticking by me while I fought my way through this sweet and romantic story, even though you were desperate for some grit and angst.
My amazing beta readers, Deanna, Helen, Lindsay and Tracy. You guys really kept me going with this one and I can’t thank you enough for encouraging me and giving me a kick up the arse when I needed it.
Evelyn, my awesome editor who puts up with my horrendous typos and bad grammar without complaining…too much!
Of course, my husband and my beautiful daughter. Without your support, none of this would be possible.
And last but definitely not least, you, my readers. Thank you for loving Summer and Harrison and asking for more. Thank you for picking up my books, sharing them with your friends, and writing reviews that blow me away. THANK YOU!
About the Author
Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy has just turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, baby girl and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle, Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.
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www.tracylorraine.com
Also by Tracy Lorraine
Falling Series
Falling for Ryan: Part One #1
Falling for Ryan: Part Two #2
Falling for Jax #3
Falling for Daniel (An Falling Series Novella)
Falling for Ruben #4
Falling for Fin #5
Falling for Lucas #6
Falling for Caleb #7
Falling for Declan #8
Falling For Liam #9
Forbidden Series
Falling for the Forbidden #1
Losing the Forbidden #2
Fighting for the Forbidden #3
Craving Redemption #4
Demanding Redemption #5
Avoiding Temptation #6
Chasing Temptation #7
Rebel Ink Series
Hate You #1
Trick You #2
TBC #3
TBC #4
Rosewood High Series
Thorn #1
Paine #2
Savage #3
Ruined Series
Ruined Plans #1
Ruined by Lies #2
Ruined Promises #3
Never Forget Series
Never Forget Him #1
Never Forget Us #2
Everywhere & Nowhere #3
Chasing Series
Chasing Logan
The Cocktail Girls
His Manhattan
Her Kensington
Co-written with Angel Devlin
Hot Daddy Series
Hot Daddy Sauce #1
Baby Daddy Rescue #2
The Daddy Dilemma #3
Single Daddy Seduction #4
Hot Daddy Package #5
B.A.D. Inc. Series
Torment #1
Ride #2
Bait #3
Break #4
Provoke #5
Hate You
Prologue
Tabitha
I stare down at my gran’s pale skin. Her cheeks are sunken and her eyes tired. She’s been fighting this for too long now, and as much as I hate to even think it, it’s time she found some peace.
I take her cool hand in mine and lift her knuckles to my lips.
“It’s Tabitha,” I whisper. I’ve no idea if she’s awake, but I don’t want to startle her.
Her eyes flicker open. After a second they must adjust to the light and she looks right at me. My chest tightens as if someone’s wrapping an elastic band around it. I hate seeing my once so full of life gran like this. She was always so happy and full of cheer. She didn’t deserve this end. But cancer doesn’t care what kind of person you are, it hits whoever it fancies and ruins lives.
Pulling a chair closer, I drop onto it, not taking my eyes from her.
“How are you doing today?” I hate asking the question, because there really is only one answer. She’s waiting, waiting for her time to come to
put her out of her misery.
“I’m good. Christopher upped my morphine. I’m on top of the world.”
She might be living her last days, but it doesn’t stop her eyes sparkling a little as she mentions her male nurse. If I’ve heard the words ‘if I were forty years younger’ once while she’s been here, then I’ve heard them a million times. She’s joking, of course. My gran spent her life with my incredible grandpa until he had a stroke a few years ago. Thankfully, I guess, his end was much quicker and less painful than Gran’s. It was awful at the time to have him healthy one moment and then gone in a matter of hours, but this right now is pure torture, and I’m not the one lying on the hospital bed with meds constantly being pumped into my body.
“Turn the frown upside down, Tabby Cat. I’m fine. I want to remember you smiling, not like your world’s about to come crashing down.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just—” a sob breaks from my throat. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without you.” Dramatic? Yeah. But Gran has been my go-to person my whole life. When my parents get on my last nerve, which is often, she’s the one who talks me down, makes me see things differently. She’s also the only one who’s encouraged me to live the life I want, not the one I’m constantly being pushed into.
That’s the reason I’m the only one visiting her right now.
When my parents discovered that she was the one encouraging my ‘reckless behaviour’, as they called it, they cut contact. I can see the pain in her eyes about that every time she looks at me, but she’s too stubborn to do anything about it, even now.
“You’re going to be fine. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. How many times have I told you, you just need to follow your heart. Follow your heart and just breathe. Spread your wings and fly, Tabby Cat.”
Those were the last words she said to me.
Hate You
Chapter 1
Tabitha
The heavy bass rattles my bones. The incredible music does help to lift my spirits, but I find it increasingly hard to see the positives in my life while I’m hanging out with my friends these days. They’ve all got something exciting going on—incredible job prospects, marriage, exotic holidays on the horizon—and here I am, drowning in my one-person pity party. It’s been two months since Gran left me, and I’m still wondering what the hell I’m meant to be doing with my life.
“Oh my god, they are so fucking awesome,” Danni squeals in my ear as one song comes to an end. I didn’t really have her down as a rock fan, but she was almost as excited as James when he announced that this was what we were doing for his birthday this year. Although I do wonder if it’s the music or the frontman who’s really captured her attention. She’d never admit it, but she’s got a thing for bad boys.
I glance over at him with his arm wrapped around Shannon’s shoulders and a smile twitches my lips. They’re so cute. They’ve got the kind of relationship everyone craves. It seems so easy yet full of love and affection. Ripping my eyes from the couple, I focus back on the stage and try to block out that I’m about as far away from having that kind of connection with anyone as physically possible.
I sing along with the songs I’ve heard on the radio a million times and jump around with my friends, but I just can’t quite totally get on board with tonight. Maybe I just need more alcohol.
“Where to next?” Shannon asks once we’ve left the arena and the ringing in our ears has begun to fade.
“Your choice,” James says, looking down at her with utter devotion shining in his eyes. It wasn’t a great surprise when Shannon sent a photo of her giant engagement ring to our group chat a couple of months ago. We all knew it was coming—Danni especially, seeing as it turned out that she helped choose the ring.
Shannon directs us all to a cocktail bar a few streets over and I make quick work of manoeuvring my way through the crowd to get to the bar, my need for a drink beginning to get the better of me. The others disappear off somewhere in the hope of finding a table
“Can we have two jugs of…” I quickly glance at the menu. “Margaritas please.”
“Coming right up, sweetheart.” The barman winks at me before his eyes drop to my chest. Hooking up on a night out isn’t really my thing, but hell if it doesn’t make me feel a little better about myself. He’s cute too, and just the kind of guy who would give both my parents a heart attack if I were to bring him home. Both his forearms are covered in tattoos, he’s got gauges in both his ears, and a lip ring. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I imagine the looks on their faces.
My gran’s words suddenly hit me.
Just breathe.
My hand lifts and my fingers run over the healing skin just below my bra. My smile widens.
I watch the barman prepare our cocktails, my eyes focused on the ink on his arms. I’ve always been obsessed by art, any kind of art, and that most definitely includes on skin.
I’m lost in my own head, so when he places the jugs in front of me, I startle, feeling ridiculous.
“T-Thank you,” I mutter, but when I lift my eyes, I find him staring intently at me.
“You’re welcome. I’m Christian, by the way.”
“Oh, hi.” A sly smile creeps onto my lips. “I’m Biff.”
“Biff?” His brows draw together in a way I’m all too used to when I say my name.
“It’s short for Tabitha.”
“That’s pretty. So… uh… how do you feel about—”
“Christian, a little help?” one of the other barmen shouts, pulling Christian’s attention from me.
“Sorry, I’ll hopefully see you again later?”
I nod at him, not wanting to give him any false hope. Like I said, he’s cute, but after my last string of bad dates and even worse short-term boyfriends, I’m happy flying solo right now. I’ve got a top of the range vibrating friend in my bedside table; I don’t need a man.
Picking up the tray in front of me, I turn and go in search of my friends. It takes forever, but eventually I find them tucked around a tiny table in the back corner of the bar.
“What the hell took so long? We thought you’d pulled and abandoned us.”
“Yes and no,” I say, ensuring every head turns my way.
“Tell us more,” Danni, my best friend, demands.
“It was nothing. The barman was about to ask me out, but it got busy.”
“Why the hell did you come back? Get over there. We all know you could do with a little… loosening up,” James says with a wink.
“I’m good. He wasn’t my type.”
“Oh, of course. You only date posh boys.”
“That is not true.”
“Is it not?” Danni asks, chipping in once she’s filled all the glasses.
“No…” I think back over the previous few guys they met. “Wayne wasn’t posh,” I argue when I realise they’re kind of right.
“No, he was just a wanker.”
Blowing out a long breath, I try to come up with an argument, but quite honestly, it’s true. My shoulders slump as I realise that I’ve been subconsciously dating guys my parents would approve of. It’s like my need to follow their orders is so well ingrained by now that I don’t even realise I’m doing it. Shame that their ideas about my life, what I should do, and whom I should date don’t exactly line up with mine.
Glancing over my shoulder at the bar, I catch a glimpse of Christian’s head. Maybe I should take him up on his almost offer. What’s the worst that could happen?
Deciding some liquid courage is in order, I grab my margherita and swallow half down in one go.
I’m so fed up of attempting to live my parents’ idea of a perfect life. I promised Gran I’d do things my way. I need to start living up to my promise.
By the time I’m tipsy enough to walk back to the bar and chat up Christian, he’s nowhere to be seen. I’m kind of disappointed seeing as the others had convinced me to throw caution to the wind (something that I’m really bad at doing), but I think I
’m mostly relieved to be able go home and lock myself inside my flat alone and not have to worry about anyone else.
With my arm linked through Danni’s, we make our way out to the street, ready to make our journeys home, and Shannon jumps into an idling Uber while Danni waits for another to go in the opposite direction.
“You sure you don’t want to be dropped off? I don’t mind.”
“No, I’m sure. I could do with the fresh air.” It’s not a lie—the alcohol from one too many cocktails is making my head a little fuzzy. I hate going to sleep with the room spinning. I’d much rather that feeling fade before lying down.
“Okay. Promise me you’ll text me when you’re home.”
“I promise.” I wrap my arms around my best friend and then wave her off in her own Uber.
Turning on my heels, I start the short walk home.
I’ve been a London girl all my life, and while some might be afraid to walk home after dark, I love it. I love seeing a different side to this city, the quiet side when most people are hiding in their flats, not flooding the streets on their daily commutes.
My mind is flicking back and forth between my promise to Gran and my missed opportunity tonight when a shop front that I walk past on almost a daily basis makes me stop.
It’s a tattoo studio I’ve been inside of once in my life. I never really pay it much attention, but the new sign in the window catches my eye and I stop to look.
Admin help wanted. Enquire within.
Something stirs in my belly, and it’s not just my need to do something to piss my parents off—although getting a job in a place like this is sure to do that. I’m pretty sure it’s excitement.
Their Vegas Gamble Page 17