Hubs, how you make me laugh! I love watching you get a sneak peek into what I’m writing, and then you want to try it out. Well, at least I know, what I write works. I love you so much, and thank you for being my best friend and lover for the past thirteen years.
Lacy Almon, you just put a smile on my face! Our conversations are the very best! I don’t think anything is off-limits after this book. I’m so glad that we are kindred spirits. When I need inspiration, you all should know that she sends me pictures of hot men. Some even have clothes on.
My wonderful beta readers—Claire Corrigan, Marybeth Provence, JoJo Bell, and of course, Lacy Almon—Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to read, edit, reread, complain, and read some more.
To my real life BDHM sorority sisters—God, I love you all so much. You have brought me so much joy and laughter. Wear your shirts with pride. Remember, when you are old and wrinkly, I’m still around saying stupid shit. Colorado Springs was a once-in-a-lifetime trip that I will never forget.
A big kiss on the lips to Darrin Elliott for inventing the Score Card game! ~I thank you ;)
Another round of applause for Jovana Shirley from Unforeseen Editing and Sarah Hansen from Okay Creations—Thank you for sharing a part of your world with me. You are both very talented and worth the wait. I see so many amazing things for you both.
To my beloved readers and followers—Thank you! Thank you for wanting me to continue what I enjoy doing. I hope you loved this story. I can’t wait for you to see what’s in store for Derek.
Shawnté Borris lives in northern Alberta with her husband, Ricky, her high school sweetheart. They have been married for ten amazing years, and together, they have two beautiful children. People say that Shawnté is crazy, but she keeps reminding them that she’s not the one who married crazy.
When Shawnté is not sitting at her kitchen table, hammering away on her laptop, she is busy attending school activities, volunteering at community events, and chauffeuring children here and there. Not to mention, she runs a cow/calf operation with all its farm duties.
When she is not working on one thing or another, she spends her downtime snuggled underneath her down comforter in bed with her iPad and the ceiling fan running on high. No kidding, if the dishes, floors, laundry, or bathrooms need a hose down, she ignores it all and reads instead.
Shawnté is technology-challenged, so she won’t be found on Twitter (Lord knows she’s tried) or Instagram (whatever that is). However, she can work one hell of a Facebook page, thanks to her assistant, Lacy.
Please like her page at www.facebook.com/shawnteborrisauthor or visit her website at www.shawnteborrisauthor.com.
Remember to leave a review/star rating on her books.
You can contact Shawnté at [email protected].
Published by: Shawnté Borris
Copyright © 2013 by Shawnté Borris
ISBN: 978-0-9918287-0-8
Chapter One
My name is Alyson (Ally) Almon, and I am twenty-eight years old. I’ve started a new life that is so unrecognizable from what it was before—when he stole my heart at the age of eighteen.
***
As I left the city airport, the sun shone brightly upon my face, the warmth sending a tingling sensation throughout my whole body. It was the best feeling that I have had in a long time—or so I thought.
***
It all started ten years ago in a small community high school with a population of eleven-hundred students. Throughout high school, we had a few classes together. I never really noticed him—and that’s when he fell in love with me.
When Sam would tell me this story, I would be tightly cuddled into his chest with his hand gliding through my hair. Sam always said it was unbelievably hard to gather the courage to ask me out. “When I thought I’d had enough courage, you’d flash your beautiful smile, and there I was drowning in your beauty.”
***
As I waited for the taxi driver to gather my luggage, I stared hopelessly into the warm sun, remembering the story Sam told me of the first day he knew that I was the one.
***
It was in eleventh-grade English class when we were re-enacting the play Twelve Angry Men. I was playing the part of the court deputy, and Sam was the witness.
Sam said he knew I was his when I placed his soft hand on a book and looked into his eyes.
After that encounter, he tried asking me out. Usually, I’d say something like “I wish these mechanic students would wash up after class, so we all don’t have to smell like oil,” and then Sam would back out. I found out later that an oil pan had dropped on Sam’s shoes right before class ended.
About a month or so after that, I was trying to cram all my textbooks into the smallest locker possibly made. Frustrated, I yelled, “Come on!” Noticing how pissed I was, Sam offered to give me a helping hand. “Thanks, Sam,” I said with a half smile. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” As I walked away, I looked over my shoulder to say thanks again, but all I noticed was a big grin on Sam’s face.
***
When I got into the taxi, the older man with grey hair asked me, “Where to?”
I didn’t know how to answer the question—because I didn’t know the answer. “I guess...to a hotel close to the beach,” I said with hesitation.
“Sure thing,” he replied with a slight nod and smile.
As we drove away, I smiled and looked out the window, thinking of our first date.
***
It definitely wasn’t the easiest first date that I have ever been on. Sam picked me up on a Wednesday night in his 1987 red orange two-toned Chevy Wrangler truck with matching red interior and subwoofers that vibrated your back while the music blared.
To this day, I can still smell the inside of his truck.
It was a forty-five minute drive to the movie theater—a very silent and awkward drive. I don’t think that I could have sat any closer to the door of his truck because I was so nervous. When we arrived, the only seats available were in the make-out corner. Great, I thought to myself with a large sigh.
I remember Sam telling me later he wanted to grab my hand in the worst way.
After the movie, the drive home didn’t seem as long. We shared a few laughs and told embarrassing stories about our childhoods. Before I knew it, we were already at my house. Sam walked me to the door.
“Thanks for coming out with me. I had a really good night,” he said and then took a deep breath. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Sam turned away, I thought to myself, Why didn’t he try to kiss me good night? That’s a first.
“Um…yeah, tomorrow,” I replied.
***
“We’re here,” the taxi driver announced as he drove up to the hotel, pulling me away from my thoughts.
The hotel had a beautiful cream exterior with rich gold and red accents. When I was getting out of the cab, I couldn’t help but notice the smell of the nearby ocean. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the refreshing scent. As my eyes opened, I saw the taxi driver handing me my luggage.
“Thanks,” I said startled, grabbing my luggage from his hand.
I walked through the lobby of the hotel to the front desk, not knowing what to expect.
“Hello. Welcome to Haven Hotel. May I help you?” greeted a young woman.
“I need a room, please.” I paused for a moment, staring at her.
“Do you have a reservation with us?”
“No,” I said while I slightly shook my head.
“How long do you plan on staying with us?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a few days? For a while.” I looked at her uneasily.
“Well, let’s see what we have available. Have you even been to Aventura, Florida before?”
“No, this is my first time. I’m from Flavanna, Virginia”
“I have a beautiful room facing the water on the third floor. Will that work for you?”
“Yes, that wi
ll be fine,” I said, fidgeting with the pen on the counter. Really at that point anything would have done, I thought.
Riding on the elevator with the bellhop, I realized that I was in uncomfortable territory. When we arrived on the third floor, I stepped out of the elevator and noticed a beautiful gold-framed mirror. It reminded me of the one Sam and I saw while we were on our honeymoon in the Dominican Republic.
As the bellhop placed my luggage in the room, I felt the warmth of the sun again, shining through the balcony windows. I pulled the curtains aside a bit more to let in more light. Then I opened the French doors, revealing an outdoor terrace.
I walked outside and leaned on the balcony for a while, watching the crowds of people on the beach. Before I knew it, enough time had passed that there was hardly anyone left. The sun was an amazing color, setting on the water and sparkling with each flowing wave.
I headed back into the room and saw all my luggage was on the bed. I didn’t even notice when the bellhop left. While I was unpacking my things, I heard a light knock at my door. It was a fruit tray from the lady at the front desk with a note: Thought you could use a snack. Nibbling on the fruit, I put away the bathroom essentials—products on the left side of the counter, all four toothbrushes in the glass holder, and a hand towel by the right side of the sink.
As the setting sun disappeared, I started to undress.
I noticed Sam’s favorite T-shirt in the corner of one of my suitcases. It was an old, thin hockey shirt from his college days. Still smelling like Sam, I slipped it on. I also placed two old and ratty teddy bears on my nightstand.
That was the first night when I realized they were not here. I was alone.
Pulling back the covers ever so slowly, I quietly slipped in and felt the tears running down my cheeks. As I lay there, I thought about how big and empty the bed felt.
***
With Love is available at Amazon, Kobo, ibooks, Smashwords, and Barnes and Noble.
Paperback copies are available at Amazon and CreateSpace.
The Game-Kirsten Backhard Page 31