Desire (South Bay Soundtracks Book 1)

by Amelia Stone

  Which was wonderful, as far as I was concerned. My best friend and the woman who was about to be my sister-in-law getting along was great for me – as long as they didn’t rope me into going shopping, or putting on makeup, or any of that crap.

  “But this is her wedding day,” Taylor hissed. “She’s supposed to look her best.”

  “Her best is whatever she thinks it is,” my cousin Krista said, flinching as her technician scrubbed at her feet. “Oof. That tickles.”

  “Right?” Ellie giggled, squirming in her seat as her own technician filed her toenails. “I can’t keep still.”

  “And then there’s the wedding night,” Taylor continued, ignoring everyone else. “How can she consummate her marriage with hair on her legs?”

  On her other side, Kristi, my store manager – and friend – chortled. “Consummate. That’s such a weird word.”

  “I guess,” Ellie said, still trying to keep her giggles under control, “if my brother doesn’t mind, then that’s all that matters.”

  “But how can he possibly be okay with marrying a Sasquatch?”

  I laughed, the sound inappropriately loud, filling the small salon. Everyone stared at me, but I was too busy enjoying the joke to explain it.

  “That’s President Sasquatch to you,” I finally said, when I’d calmed down enough.

  Taylor looked at me like I had three heads. “Okay, fine,” she huffed. “But when he chooses not to kiss his bride, remember that it was your choice to show up with body hair.” She shuddered.

  I smirked. “Oh, I’m definitely getting a kiss.”

  And then some. Graham and I had a romantic honeymoon planned for the rest of this morning. We were headed off on a driving tour of Mexico. It had actually been Graham’s idea, a way of honoring the other man I’d loved. We were flying to Phoenix on Monday.

  But until then, we were going to spend the weekend fucking like bunnies at our home in South Bay.

  Graham had sold his house in Amityville, making a tidy profit that eventually became the down payment on our new beach house. As for my own little cottage, it hadn’t taken long to fix it up, with Gabe the hot contractor’s help. And it sold even quicker, with barely any work from Uncle Tom. Taylor had been right about its resale value.

  I’d taken the money I’d gotten from the sale, as well as most of the money I had left from Daniel’s trust fund, and donated it. With some help from Krista, I found a charity that helps widows in poverty-stricken areas around the world, giving them the resources they needed to take care of their families and get back on their feet.

  It felt good to give it away, to do some good. It felt like honoring Daniel’s legacy, in a weird way. I never would have become a widow, if I’d had any choice in the matter. But this felt like the best I could do with the hand I’d been dealt.

  “Hey, speaking of kisses, did you hear about that famous baseball guy?” Kristi asked as she flipped through a gossip magazine.

  “What famous baseball guy?” Taylor asked.

  “Seth somebody or other.” Kristi shrugged. “I forgot his name. Jeff told me.”

  “Seth Holt?” Ellie asked, an edge to her voice I’d never heard before. I looked over at her, curious. But she was staring at her own best friend like she was trying to set Krista’s curly red hair on fire.

  For her part, Krista wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “What about him?” she asked, sounding almost aggressively casual. She picked up the sparkly blue nail polish she’d picked out, twirling it between her fingers.

  “Supposedly he’s coming back to live in South Bay.” My head pinged back to Kristi, who was wiggling her eyebrows. “Everyone in town is abuzz with the news.”

  There was a crash, then the sound of breaking glass, and I looked around. Krista had dropped the nail polish bottle, shattering it into a thousand pieces on the hard tile floors and splattering sparkly blue polish everywhere.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, sounding embarrassed. But her face was white, like she’d seen a ghost.

  Ellie leaned over, rubbing Krista’s arm soothingly, while the technician began cleaning up the mess.

  “But what does that have to do with kisses, anyway?” Ellie asked, though her eyes were still trained on Krista.

  Weird.

  Kristi chuckled. “Because who wouldn’t want to kiss that guy? Have you seen his lips?”

  I grinned at her. “Does Jeff know you crush on baseball players?”

  “Eh. What he doesn’t know will benefit him anyway.” Kristi grinned.

  “How’s that?” Taylor asked.

  Kristi and I exchanged a look of understanding. “Because it sets the mood,” I answered for her.

  “That makes no sense.” Taylor’s nose scrunched up in confusion.

  I shook my head, chuckling. “Just trust me.”

  “But wouldn’t he get jealous?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Not if he’s the right guy,” I answered.

  Kristi nodded. “He’ll trust you to fantasize, because he knows you’ll bring all that excitement back to him.”

  I sighed contentedly. Somehow, I’d been lucky enough to find two such guys in my life. Daniel hadn’t minded when I got dreamy over, say, Michael Hutchence, or a young John Cusack. He’d just happily reaped the benefits. And though Graham occasionally got the green eyes of jealousy to match his physical ones, ultimately, he trusted that I loved him.

  And oh, did I ever love him. I mean, we’d only known each other for three months, twenty-one days, and – I checked my watch – fourteen hours and forty-one minutes. And here we were, getting married already.

  But if my time on this Earth had taught me anything, it was that life was unpredictable, and time, for all its immutability, still somehow managed to move too fast. You never knew what would happen. It was best to choose happiness when you had the chance.

  Taylor looked unhappy. “But if he’s jealous, that shows that he cares, right?”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering why she’d latched onto this particular topic. She still hadn’t told me what was going on with her, or where she was staying, and honestly, I was starting to worry. It wasn’t like Taylor to keep secrets.

  Kristi shrugged. “Every relationship is different. If it works for you, then that’s all that matters.”

  Though I still felt uneasy about Taylor, I smiled. “That is the truth.”

  “Quit gloating,” Ellie teased, smiling once more. “You’re already getting the best guy in the world.”

  I sighed happily, because I really was.

  Two hours and sixteen minutes later, I was standing in the cavernous hallway of the courthouse on Grand Avenue, feeling giddy with anticipation. I was wearing a (black) dress, I’d styled my hair, and – though I would never, ever admit it to Taylor – I’d even smeared some shiny lip balm on.

  Not lip gloss, mind you. Balm.

  Footsteps echoed on the marble floors behind me, and I grinned as I spun on my heel.

  Graham ‘My Fiancé’ Morris was walking toward me. His eyes lit up as they locked with mine.

  “Hey there, Mrs. Morris.”

  I gave him a look. “We talked about this.” I twirled the little bouquet of hydrangeas that Taylor had given me between my fingers. “I did not change my name to Trujillo, and I am not changing my name to Morris. I am Larkin Michaels. End of fucking story.”

  He grinned as he reached me. “Remind me why that is, again?”

  “Because it’s my fucking name,” I grumbled. “I get to keep it if I want to.”

  “I know,” he murmured, sweeping me into his arms. “I’m just teasing. I like to make you frown.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re a weirdo,” I told him.

  He nodded. “Uh huh. But a sexy weirdo.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “My sexy weirdo,” I whispered, raising myself on tiptoes for a kiss.

  An angry growl rumbled behind me. “Hey! Knock it off. You’re about to get married.”

  I broke t
he kiss, turning my head to look at the jerk who’d interrupted me. Sage was sticking his head out of the courtroom door, scowling.

  “Which means I’m allowed to kiss my husband, dingus.”

  My brother rolled his eyes. “You have to wait until he’s actually your husband.”

  “Like how you waited until after Violet was born to marry me?” Jenny poked her head out from behind her husband, grinning at me.

  “That’s not the point,” Sage muttered.

  “No, the point is that the judge is ready for you, Lark.” She rubbed a hand over her now-swollen baby bump. “And I have to pee. So can we get a move on?”

  “Like I’d argue with a pregnant woman,” Sage said.

  Jenny hooted with laughter as she pulled him back into the courtroom. “Sure you would.”

  “I would not,” Sage argued.

  “You do it all the time!” she replied, as he door swung shut behind them.

  I laughed, turning back to Graham.

  He brushed my hair back from my face. “Ready?”

  I looked into my soon-to-be-husband’s eyes, lost for a moment in trying to count the amber flecks in them. I gave up quickly, deciding that it was fruitless. The number didn’t matter. He was perfect beyond measure.

  “Yes,” I told him. “I’m fucking ready.”

  Acknowledgements

  So many people to thank, so little brain power with which to remember them. I’ll do my best.

  Thank you to my betas. One day I will let you be betas. I swear.

  Thank you to my wonderful StoneHearts for being the best bunch of man-ogling weirdos on the web. And a special thanks to my admins, Jenn and Denna, for picking up my slack and making sure I don’t lose my everloving mind.

  Thank you to Gina, for suggesting Graham’s name. I hope you love him as much as I do.

  Thank you to Melanie Harlow, Alessandra Torre, and all the bestselling authors who take time away from their fabulously busy schedules to help out us lesser folks. Many thanks as well to the Harlot Authors and Inkers for your support and camaraderie.

  Thank you to Chris, Tanya, Maura, Melissa, Paul, James, Temika, and Shaneen for making me homesick for Amityville and its many fine dining establishments, and to Liz, for explaining how the “Charlie’s” pizza club works.

  And thank you, finally, to Mim, for always supporting me in this dream, even when you don’t understand it. Especially then.

  Amelia Stone writes contemporary romance about real(ish) people who just want to find love, because really, don’t we all? She is the author of the Time for Love series and the South Bay Soundtracks series. She knew at the age of five that she wanted to be a writer, and she wrote and illustrated her first book in the third grade. (It was about kittens, of course.) When she’s not writing, she can usually be found eating Mexican food, listening to New Wave music, or attempting to co-opt someone else’s dog. She lives in Arizona.

  Want exclusive teasers, giveaways, and a free, not-published-anywhere-else story on your birthday? Become a StoneHeart!

  Keep up with Amelia around the web:

  Amazon

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Newsletter

  Also by Amelia Stone

  A Time for Love:

  One More Time

  The First Time

  Moments in Time

  Time After Time

  South Bay Soundtracks:

  Desire

  Crazy In Love – January 2018

  Lover’s Game – April 2018