Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  She was going to fly in for a visit, bringing her new beau along. She wanted to stay with us. That was her first mistake. A grown woman sleeping with her boyfriend needs her own private space – especially when her overprotective brother hasn’t come to terms with that fact that they’ll sleeping together, just a few doors down. He ranted on, sounding like some overbearing father, not simply her brother.

  “If she thinks they’re going to sleep together while they’re at my house, she has another thing coming. There’s no way they’re sharing a room,” he went on.

  “She’s an adult, Steel,” I gently prodded.

  He couldn’t see it. She’d always needed him and adult or not, it was still his little sister. It was his job to watch out for her. His job to guide her, because in his eyes he knew what was best for Kira.

  This was going to be interesting. Forget the fact that she’d been dating him for a while back in Seattle, and had been sleeping with him all along.

  Kira’s boyfriend wasn’t who or what Steel expected. In fact, he came as a shock. He wasn’t big and strong, he wasn’t solid, he didn’t have a steady job, and other than the fact that he seemed to treat Kira well, he wasn’t the kind of guy he expected his sister to be with. This wasn’t a man that could support her, take care of her, and battle all of her demons. He was a wishy-washy, slender boy with long hair with no direction. He took odd jobs freelancing, and had some damn artistic quality – and that didn’t spell stability.

  How was he supposed to react? This wasn’t a man Kira could put her future on. Why didn’t she find somebody stronger, more like him? She’d end up supporting him, working her ass off while he flitted around playing in creative ideas for the next twenty years, hoping one might catch. Steel was convinced he’d have to make her see he wasn’t the kind of guy to rely on, not suitable material, not good enough, and no way, no how was Kira wasting more time on this loser.

  That was a fun week, the fighting, the crying, the accusations, but when it came down to it, Kira was her own person, a grown woman, and Steel had to accept her choices. It didn’t matter what he wanted, and he didn’t do well with that. Kira of course swore she’d end up marrying this guy because it was her life, and she knew exactly what she wanted. She didn’t of course.

  The amusing part to me was that they split up when they got to Seattle. She decided he wasn’t for her after all – maybe Steel had more influence in her life than she believed. I knew nobody would ever measure up to her brother in her eyes...even though she kept trying to avoid seeing that, it would hit her eventually. He was her hero, and how can someone compare with that? He was the one who stepped in, taking even more of a parental role with her parents no longer there, and she valued his opinion more than she wanted to admit.

  The one good thing that came out of that visit was that Kira had finally accepted me in Steel’s life. We’d been together long enough that she saw I wasn’t a passing phase and we were good for each other. I don’t think I’d call her my biggest fan, but she saw our love was genuine. I took it for what it was.

  Either way, I envied the way they cared about each other. My family was a distant wound from my past. I moved forward, but some days felt insanely alone. If Steel hadn’t come into my life, I’m not sure what I’d be doing. Would I still be burying my pain at Phil’s, working in a dark, shady environment and living in a rat hole of a room with a bare bulb and a run-down mattress? I want to believe I would have found my way out on my own, but truth be told Steel helped me find myself again.

  He made a difference in my world, and made me a part of his life. He rescued me from myself more than anything – because I’m pretty sure I would have gone down a path of self-destruction otherwise. I knew that rescuing me healed him as well. He needed to save someone, so I’m just grateful that he chose me that night at the bar. Together we’d figure things out.

  The day he asked me to be his wife, I knew we’d made it. We’d gotten to the point of trusting one another with our lives – the good, the bad, and the ugly. There was something comforting knowing that the person you love more than life itself would be around forever. I felt safe with Steel, desired and loved. We were in no hurry since we’re both still young, but we knew our future was together. We’d get our happily ever after some day, and for now we’re doing just fine.

  THE END

  About the Author: Ava Catori

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  Ava Catori loves to explore the feelings of not only falling in love, but what it's like to be tangled in a relationship. Playing in the emotional waves of love makes for a rewarding writing experience, as she tackles adult contemporary romance with a smile.

  Whether you're looking to read a hot new adult story, a western romance, a military romance, or something fun like a romantic comedy, Ava Catori brings it to you with a smile. You'll find both novels and novella length works, offering contemporary love stories that are character-driven.

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  Becky Holgate's lost her focus. It's complicated...she didn't mean to fall in love with another woman's guy. How could she be a matchmaker for other people if all she could think about was her own heart? Determined to ignore her growing infatuation, she set her sight on building her career. Only Reed Amwell was making it hard to concentrate; every encounter left her breathless.

  Reed didn't mean to fall for the curvy girl, but she was carefree, silly, and fresh. Her soft curves and playful heart had him questioning his current relationship. Could he be with the wrong girl? He needed to figure it out fast, because his wedding day was getting closer by the minute.

  With a laugh-out-loud best friend, an insane cat, and a business to run, Becky Holgate didn't have time for guys like Reed Amwell...until time was running out.

  LETTING YOU IN by Nora Flite

  -Part 1-

  Leah Rook

  I saw him move, but still, my body proved to be useless. Knowing he was coming for me again, knowing that hand would collide with my face... if this had been an action movie, I would have dodged. I could have rolled, ducked, or weaved out of the way at the very last second. My ex-boyfriend would've punched the air, the wall, even the couch, just anything but me.

  That wasn't going to happen.

  Owen's knuckles bounced off my temple, a bloom of hot pain, disorienting pressure. I must have fallen, because I realized I could feel the coarse living room rug on my lips.

  “I'm sorry,” he breathed, and if he hadn't been so close, I don't think I would have heard him. My ears were pounding, almost muted by a high pitched whine that had no end.

  “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he just kept repeating that. My lips tasted like blood, I didn't respond. What could I have said, though, to the man who had finally dared to hit me like that?

  “I'm sorry,” he begged, grabbing my ankles, filling me with nausea as he started to drag me. “I'm sorry, you just...” He didn't finish, but I looked up, saw him standing over me. He was terrified, no longer the image of crimson rage that I had seen seconds before that punch, seen so many times in the past.

  Good, I thought to myself, good for you, you're finally sorry.

  He must have seen it in my eyes; I wasn't going to give in this time, I wouldn't forgive him for what he had done. That would be a first, and the expression that twisted to life on his face was no longer that of someone who regretted their actions.

  “You don't even care. I'm sorry about what I just did, and you don't give a shit!”

  Inhaling sharply, I tried to get up, but he was on me, heavy, the weight of him crushing me down. His hands coiled around my throat, the high pitched ringing in my ears growing. Something new joined it, a ragged whistle. Color splotched in my vision, my skin crawling with the sudden understanding of what I was hearing.

  That's me, that's the sound of me trying to breathe, isn't it?

  Owen looked into my eyes, a cold spike set
tling in my belly. I knew what he was going to do.

  My ex-boyfriend was actually going to kill me.

  Chapter 1.

  1 Month Earlier

  ––––––––

  The bed was toasty, and with the heat off in the apartment, I was even less likely to want to crawl out from under those blankets. Turning on my side, I pressed up against the broad back of the man next to me, trying to steal even more warmth. His reaction, as usual, was to shrug me off, muttering. “Your feet are like ice.”

  “Sorry,” I frowned, scooting away reluctantly. Owen had never liked snuggling, or any sort of affection, really. But it's alright, it isn't like I'm exactly into that sort of stuff, anyway. Still, the prickle along my neck, the irritation from his normal rebuke... it was enough to coax me out of bed.

  Pushing aside the blankets, watching my boyfriend instantly scoop them up to make a tighter cocoon, I hurried to throw on a thick sweater. The room was a mess, clothes everywhere, nothing really organized. That was just how things were, we didn't really bother to put things away. Why waste the effort when you never knew for sure if you'd be able to pay your rent, or if you'd have to move?

  “Hey,” he called to me, sounding suddenly sweet. Smoothing my hair, I looked his way, saw that smile of chagrin as he wiggled tighter in the bed. “Breakfast?”

  “Is that your way of asking me to make it?”

  “Come on, please?” Owen pleaded with me, and I sighed. I was so bad at saying no.

  “Alright.” Ignoring his small cheer, I slipped from the bedroom, towards the kitchen, feeling the chill of the hard floor through my socks. I made breakfast every day, but it was just... easier, to do it.

  Easier than fighting about it.

  In a few minutes I had coffee brewing, bacon in a pan. The kitchen smelled nice, I was grateful for the warmth. We really should have had the heat on, especially since it was October. New England had terrible cold snaps, and one of them was currently making me wish we had the money to afford the gas bills.

  Whatever, in spring I'll be wishing for air conditioning.

  We didn't turn that on ever, either.

  Between the two of us, we barely scraped enough to keep living here. Owen did side jobs, whatever his dad offered him, or occasionally just contracted labor.

  Me, well... I had been too poor to really get much education after high school, let alone go to the college I'd had in my heart. I'd wanted to do a lot of things, like most kids. Dreaming about becoming an artist, becoming famous!

  I was lucky my guidance counselor was there to warn me away. He had been right, where could I find an art job here, in this tiny, broken state? I had managed to get some graphic design work on the side, but Owen, well, he had talked me into looking for real work. Applying, getting a job, it wasn't exactly simple, not when everyone else was willing to take anything and work for minimum wage.

  The bedroom door opened just as I was scooping scrambled eggs onto the plates. Right then, I was feeling pretty good, knowing Owen would be happy for the hot food. I looked up, met his eyes, saw his familiar frown.

  “You didn't wash the dishes from last night.”

  “Oh,” I blinked, glancing at the few plates in the sink. “I mean, I'll do them after.”

  “You should have done them last night,” he sighed.

  The flush of anxiety crawled up my neck, I set the plates of food down heavily on the kitchen table. “Well, after I made us dinner, I was sort of tired and just wanted to sit and eat. But I can get them, if you like.” I pointed at the pan I had just cooked in. “Do you want me to wash this, too, right now?”

  Owen scowled, sitting down in front of the steaming breakfast I had just finished making. “Next time just do it before we go to bed, then you don't need to do as much the next morning.”

  I stared at him, biting back the comment I wanted to make. Maybe next time you should cook for once, or do the dishes. Tense, feeling the frustration from having been berated a number of times, I sat beside him, eating in silence.

  “Hey,” he said, and when I didn't look up, he grabbed my hand to stop me from lifting the fork full of eggs. “Hey. Look at me.”

  I did, but I already knew what he was going to say. “I'm just trying to help you,” he stated, lifting his eyebrows, trying to read my expression. “Taking care of things right away is just easier. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I muttered, relieved when he let me go.

  We ate in silence after that.

  Owen went to take a shower when we finished, leaving me to clean up after him. I washed the dishes, boiling with a slowly building anger that had come to roost in me deeply. It had been there for some time, a fireball that only got more volatile every day.

  A door opened on the other side of the apartment, footsteps coming my way. Sounds like Colby is awake. Our roommate, a friend of Owen's, he'd been living with us for only a month. It was the best method we could find to help handle our tight budget.

  He ducked into the kitchen and came up behind me, grabbing the pan I had just washed from the strainer. When he did, he knocked a glass off the counter. Together, we watched it smash on the floor, sharp shards scattering everywhere.

  In a burst of fear that was instantly fighting with a surprising, protective rage, I dropped the sponge into the soapy water, screaming at him. “Dammit! Be more careful!”

  “Whoa, hey,” he lifted his hands, watching me with wide eyes in a way that was strangely... familiar. “Relax, it's just a glass, sorry!”

  “Now I have to clean that, too,” I groaned, wrinkling my forehead, wiping my palms on my jeans. Owen is going to be pissed that we lost another glass, he'll say I shouldn't have left it so close to the counter edge. He's right, he's always right about that stuff.

  “Calm down, Leah. Seriously, just relax a second. I'm obviously going to clean this up.” He stared, looking me up and down, considering me a moment. “You seem a little stressed lately.”

  “What?” I rubbed my hands on my pants again, though they were already dry. “What do you mean?”

  “Stressed,” he shrugged. Grabbing the broom from the corner, he started sweeping up the glass into a pile. Briefly, he shot a look at the bathroom door, where we could both hear the shower water still rushing. “Listen, not my place, I know. But, uh, is everything alright with you two?”

  “We're fine,” I blurted, tugging at my long hair. You know that's a lie.

  “I hear you guys yelling at each other a lot.”

  “He just gets upset when I make mistakes, that's all.”

  Colby leaned on the broom, lifting an eyebrow at me. “Leah, I've known Owen forever. I know he has a temper, you don't need to pretend he doesn't. And you don't need to defend him.”

  “I'm not.” I frowned, turning back to the sink, busying myself with washing another plate. “I just don't want you to get the wrong idea.”

  He was quiet a moment, I almost looked over my shoulder, just to see what he was doing. Colby scraped up the last of the glass, dumping it in the trash. “Listen,” he said, standing so close I could see his level expression. “I don't think you need to worry about me getting the wrong idea. I have ears, I live with you guys. And,” he added, smiling crookedly, “I'm not dumb. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I replied, looking at the bathroom nervously. “Okay. I know. It's not a big deal. He gets angry, I can handle it. He has his moments, but when he's good, he's really good.”

  “Sometimes that's part of the problem.” Colby scratched at his scalp, then turned for the front door. “I need to get to work. But listen, if you ever need to talk, you know I'm here, yeah?”

  “Okay,” I said, wondering how many times I had spoken that word today.

  He left, and I stared into the grey sink water, the suds already having turned into greasy film. He isn't wrong, I guess I am pretty stressed. I thought back, trying to remember the last time I hadn't always felt so edgy... so anxious.

  It shouldn't be so hard to remember that.

>   Part of me wanted to walk away, right then. Just go outside, get some air. I thought about Owen coming out of the bathroom, seeing the dirty sink, imagined how he would frown and chastise me later. Swallowing, my heart speeding up, I gripped the sponge tightly.

  After I finish the dishes.

  ****

  The ground was wet from an early rain, the sky overcast, refusing to let any sun through. Despite that, it was less cold outside than in my apartment.

  I hadn't had a real goal when I started walking, but I found myself pushing the heavy, old door aside and entering the little coffee shop in the neighborhood. I'd lived in my current apartment for a few months, had been grateful when I discovered a nice place nearby to stop in and just... get away.

  Get away, why am I always trying to get away?

  The guy behind the counter looked my age, probably just out of college, his ears stretched by those funny plugs that I'd never learned the name of. I was going to just order my usual plain cup of coffee, but my eyes drifted down to the glass case between me and the barista.

  Inside I saw some pastries, sweets, things I was never allowed to eat. Never allowed? I thought about that, but had to admit, that wasn't exactly far off. Owen was, bluntly, a bit of a health nut. He was in great shape, he expected me to take good care of myself as well. That meant not only not having snacks in our apartment, but he'd never let me eat junk food around him.

  Frowning, I felt a hot shard of defiance, pointing to one of the glossy muffins. “I'll take a medium cup of coffee, and one of those, please.”