by Lowe, Aden
Ride It Out
Aden Lowe
Ashley Wheels
©2015 by Aden Lowe and Ashley Wheels. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Aden Lowe and Ashley Wheels or their legal representative.
Thank you for purchasing an authorized copy of this book. By doing so, you say NO to Piracy and support authors so they can continue to bring you the books you enjoy.
Author's Note: This book contains adult situations and language, violence, and sexual activity. Mature readers only.
Acknowledgements:
Ashley:
Co-authoring this book has been one of the best and most challenging things I’ve done. But it wouldn’t have been possible without a few people.
I want to thank the girls on the Huntresses Street Team and in the Lowe-Down Fan group for supporting me, in this joint adventure with Aden.
Chickens – love you girls, the chats that last all day and night, thank you for being there.
Taylor Swift – Thank you for getting me through hours of writing, and if you ever read this. Contact me. I’ll give you a signed copy.
Aden, BigBrother – Working with you, is never work. This was an adventure and I had a blast. Even those timed writing races, I won a few. Nope, I’ll never let you forget that. This has been one of the craziest ideas that we’ve done yet. I can’t wait to see what we come up with next. Love you BigBrother.
Matt, Hubby – Thank you for eating Chinese food, Dominos and other takeout places several times a month, so that I could continue to work on this, lol. Thank you for always supporting me, and to make sure I never gave up. I love you always and forever.
Dedication – This book is for anyone that’s ever been told these words: no, can’t, don’t, impossible, won’t…..when trying to go for your dreams, whether it’s holding a job, saving money to go to a book signing or to walk on the moon. If no one else ever tells you, read this now. Yes you can, go for it and never look back.
Aden:
Writing with Ash has been one of the most amazing and fun experiences ever, even when she got all embarrassed. Thank you, Baby Sister, for this crazy little adventure.
Elyse, you know. Love you.
Aden Lowe's Huntresses are the BEST Street Team on Facebook or anywhere else. Thank you ladies for your enthusiastic support. I'm still amazed that you're willing to spend some of your precious down-time helping me. You kick ass.
The Lowe-Down – the Official Aden Lowe Fan Group… Thank you ladies. I rely on you for laughs, opinions, and help promoting my books. You constantly excel in all categories.
We hope you enjoy Ride It Out as much as we enjoyed writing it!
Chapter One: Blake
After five long hours, I switch off Guns N Roses Welcome To The Jungle and throw my F150 into park. The view of the condo and the beach I grew up visiting reminds me of those carefree summer nights. Back then, nothing mattered but seeing who could burn their marshmallows the fastest or catch the most fireflies. I’m so fucking ready for this break from people and all their bullshit.
Enough of this. I push open the door, twist to reach my wheels, and hop out to head for the front of the house. Damn, the guys did a great job modifying the old place for me.
Wheeling up the newly paved ramp brings Jelly to mind. Bastard could get crazy jealous over the littlest shit, but he still knew the best updates for the condo to suit my new needs. Stopping at the landing, I bend down to reach my keys from where they hang off the brakes. Movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye, out toward the beach. Old habits kick in and I freeze to check it out.
Huh. A chick in a wheelchair. The sun shines just so on her sleek mahogany hair. That yellow spaghetti strap dress hints at curves that make my mouth go dry.
What the hell is she doing here? She shouldn't be out alone. What if her chair got stuck or something?
"Fuck." Her wheels remind me I came here to get away from people, including chicks. Especially chicks. The keys rattle as I search for the right one to unlock the door.
Rolling in, I head straight for the fridge and pull it open, grab a cold Bud, crack it open, and drain half it down. Damn, I needed that. Back home, they all act like a goddam beer is a loaded gun. Like I'm supposed to be depressed or some shit.
The overnight bag thuds to the floor at the end of the couch as I pass by first, then maneuver myself around. Damn chair takes space to turn and park so I can transfer. The wall the boys took down to open the living room up had given me just enough.
Time to check in with the guys. Jelly's phone goes straight to voice mail. “Hey, it’s Hound. I made it, thanks for having the place stocked up for me. Later, man.” There. That should satisfy my official mother hen for a bit.
Tired, I lay back, wanting to stretch out my legs. It requires lifting one at time to rest on the couch. “Geez, I didn’t used to need to rest after a half day on the road.” Closing my eyes just for a bit should help.
The waves are the last thing I hear before falling asleep. Cool night ride, headlights coming right at me, loud horn blaring, all happens too fast. Heart pounding, I wake in a cold sweat. Seems that night is never going to get out of my fucking head.
Might as well get on the floor and work out a little. I'm already drenched with sweat so why not. Three reps of twenty push-ups later, the muscles in my arms and shoulders burn and ache as I work my way back up on the couch to jump in my wheels.
At the sliding glass door, I roll over the threshold and look around. The faint gleam of firelight out on the point makes me wonder who's out there. Most likely not anyone I know. Not anymore.
The summer air has a light breeze tonight, carrying the scent of the ocean. I watch the moonlit waves rolling in and out on the beach and take a deep breath. This is what I need more than anything. Peace and quiet. No one watching to be sure I manage the door okay or asking if I need something. They mean well, of course. But all their concern won't change it and I have to live with what I have now.
The thought of the chick in that yellow dress comes back to me. Wonder what she was doing out there? And where she’s staying? The Johnson’s place up the beach sold a few months back, so maybe there. Although, I don’t remember any ramps at their condo, but hell… I didn’t notice ramps before that shithead hit my bike. Now, I see them everywhere.
Back inside, I check the lock, flip down the light switch and head for the couch. Too tired to do anything else, I turn on the TV and settle in for the night. The girl in the yellow dress continues to haunt my thoughts. What the hell is it about her? It's not like I haven't seen an attractive woman in a wheelchair before. The old western on TV fails to hold my attention more than a few minutes, so I search for something else.
The glow of sun touches her skin making her freckles sparkle. My hand moves to touch her little nose. I love the way that little nose of hers moves just a bit with every emotion, telling me what she's feeling. I slip one hand behind her neck to pull her in close for a kiss and she lets her eyes fall closed..My light tug on her bottom lip makes her suck in a gasp and I take full advantage, closing my lips to hers in a soft but controlled kiss. The last bit of that cherry chapstick she’s always wearing lingers to remind me that I fucking love the taste of her lips. Her hair fans out on the blanket as we collapse and I roll to the top..She giggles and wraps her arms around my neck. I smile down at her, leaning in to kiss her—.
“Shit!” The hard-on straining my boxers is the first I've had in months, and it's worthy of the old me. Reflex draws my hand to slide up and down. The image of those cherry-tasting lips from the dream jumps into my mind and I can pr
actically feel them on my cock. Without warning, my release hits and leaves me fighting to drag air into my lungs.
The knot of fear in my belly gives way with a rush. I'd thought that part of me was gone, taken by the accident. My lack of reaction down there to anyone made me an irritable son-of-a-bitch but I never mentioned it to anyone. The boys hopefully figured I wasn’t into the pity fucks the club girls offered all the time. Jelly gave me a few looks like he suspected something, but I shrugged them off. Life consisted of keeping to myself and taking care of what the club needed since the accident.
That girl on the beach, I really need to find out her name. The next hard-on should have a name to go with the face.
I grab the phone to check the time. Jelly texted sometime after I passed out. “bbbbbb” The code for an emergency. Shit, that came hours ago. Dialing, I wait for him to pick up.
“Hound, it’s been five fucking hours. I almost drove my ass down there. Where the fuck have you been?” Jelly's voice almost sounds panicked.
"Chill, I was here. Had a beer and passed out after I got here. No worries. Now, what’s so urgent?” The irritation came through loud and clear in my voice, but I'm really getting tired of the mother hen bullshit. It’s been months now since the accident. I’m fine.
Jelly's annoyed rasp interrupts my thoughts. “Are you listening to me? We had some visitors I need you to look into.” Minutes later, I have the names and promise to have everything in a few hours.
Snooping skills mean I still have an active role in the club, but it will have to wait a couple more hours. The urge to see the girl in the wheelchair again pushes me head out the door. The ramp on this side goes straight out to the beach. They have those fancy mats that are supposed to make it safe for wheelchairs to roll on. How the fuck do they work? Doesn't look very stable to me, but I ease my wheels slowly out onto the surface. “Huh. They do work.”
She’s about a ten yards down the beach, in her own little world reading on a Kindle. I pause and just watch for a minute. A slight breeze off the water carries a faint cherry scent to me and slams me back into that dream and my cock immediately stands up to pay attention.
Fuck, chill out dude, and don’t screw this up..“Hey babe, whatcha reading?”
Startled, she jumps and drops her Kindle. Moving fast, I manage to reach it just before it hits the sand.
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.” Her voice is low, husky, but with an annoyed tone.
“I’m sorry, I thought you would have heard me with all the noise I make. Must be some book you’re reading there.”
Her cheeks suddenly flush, and it's cute as hell. Interesting. She takes the Kindle from my hand, her fingers brushing mine in the process. She shuts it down and drops it into the bag hanging off the armrest of her chair. She smiles up at me and offers her hand. “I’m Anne.”
Reaching out to take her hand, I let my thumb slowly slide over the back of her hand. “I’m Blake, but everyone calls me Hound.”
One thin brow arched upward. “Blake. I like it.”.
She likes my name, prompting a juvenile urge to giggle. “Did you buy the Johnson’s place? I haven’t seen you around here before.” The sun is bright and angled right in my eyes, forcing me to turn so I can see her.
“Actually, my family owns the light blue cottage besides the old Johnson’s home. I grew up on this beach during the summers.”.
Damn, how could I have missed her?
She tenses up, like she's thinking the same thing. Probably figures I'm just a typical guy, not noticing her for whatever reason. “I kept to myself a lot of the time, but I was around.” She relaxes and smiles at me, turning a little back towards the water before she starts talking. “I love the beach. It’s so peaceful out here. I love just closing my eyes and listening to the waves, imagining myself out there with them.”
“That’s why I came back here, I needed some peace and time to escape from things,” I said, looking down at my wheels, shifting my feet just a little. I’m just waiting for her to ask. They always do.
Instead, she looks at me with a small smile. “Well this is definitely peaceful. You couldn’t find a better place to escape to either.”
Hell, now it pisses me off that she didn’t ask. I can’t figure out her angle. Why didn’t she ask me? She must get the question herself all the time. She’s probably waiting on me to ask her first. Well, she’s going to be in for a surprise because I’m not asking first. Although, she doesn’t seem like it's anything to worry about.
We sit there quietly for a few minutes just watching the waves hitting the beach. “Tell me something. Why hasn’t anyone come out to see where you are? Someone like you shouldn’t be out by herself.”
She suddenly jerks her brakes and turns her wheelchair all the way to face me directly. “Someone like me? What exactly are you trying to say Blake?”.Shit, she sounds irritated.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean it how that sounded. I just meant a gorgeous girl like you must have someone here with her, right?” I try to backpedal.
Visibly exhaling, she lightly laughs. “I’m here on my own for now. You’re not the only one who could use an escape.”.Smart girl. She didn’t give me a time frame on how long she’d be alone.
“I’ll let you get back to that book you were reading, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, Anne.”
Smiling she says, “Maybe you will.”
Chapter Two: Anne
When morning comes, I take my time getting ready for the day. No need to rush and no one's schedule to stay on feels good. I have a scary moment in the shower when I slip a little during the transfer, but I manage to hang on and stay off the floor. It takes extra time, but I emerge victorious.
To celebrate the win over the shower, I roll to the kitchen and reach for a cup, really wanting some juice. That's a whole new battle, with most of the dishes stored in the upper cupboards and accessible to standing people. Thankfully Adam set everything he thought I might need on the counter, but somehow the cups ended up at the back. I had to stretch scary-far, but I managed to snag the handle with the tip of my finger.
It might be just my first full day at it, but this independence stuff is pretty good for my ego. So far, I've managed everything I attempted. With the cup tucked between my knees, I pour the fruit punch carefully. The memory of Adam always getting in trouble for drinking straight from the carton makes me laugh a little. Our Grams always joked he never slowed down long enough for a cup.
I take a sip, letting it roll over my tongue. “Mmm, I’m going to need to buy more of this soon.” That brings up a new issue. How am I supposed to get to the store? Adam will be up for the weekend, but if I want something before then, I'm screwed.
The silence in the cottage is too much, and makes me anxious. I'm used to being in a house full of noisy family all the time. I head towards the TV in the living room, there must be something on there to watch. “Perfect, music!”
Taylor Swift is definitely one of my favorites, and when her song “22” comes on, I can’t help but turn it up. The song is just fun, so I impulsively grab my hairbrush and sing along with her..
I don’t know about you
But I’m feeling 22
Everything will be alright if you
Keep me next to you
You don’t know about me
But I bet you want to
Everything will be alright if
We just keep dancing like we’re
22
Blake:
I roll down the beach a little ways, pushing the limits of my wifi. Laptop perched precariously on my knees, I soak up the peace and solitude while I start the search for the information Jelly requested. Taylor Swift's voice intrudes on my quiet morning. That chick is fucking everywhere. I can’t escape her. Every damn radio station, store, even TV commercial plays her music, practically non-stop.
Damn noise is coming from the blue cottage. Anne’s place. Without even realizing, I roll on down the beach and up to her p
orch. I silently watch, transfixed. She’s cute as hell, shaking her body and using a hairbrush for a microphone like she was Taylor herself in concert.
I need to get closer to her and before I know it, I knock on the sliding glass door. She continues on as if she doesn’t hear, so I take a chance and pull. She's left the damn door unlocked. “Fuck, any asshole could come in here.” The thought sends ice water down my back..
Anne is turned away from me, still singing and dancing.
I roll up close. “Anne!!!”.
She screams and throws the hairbrush, hard, hitting me right in the eye.
“Fuck!!” I clap my hand over my eye in reaction.
Oh my God, are you okay?” Anne races over to me, her soft hands pulling my hand away. “Let me see, Blake.” Her voice is soft, comforting, as she touches my face, inspecting her handiwork. “It looks okay. You might have a small bruise, though.”
An impulse strikes and I can't control the urge this close to her. I take her hand from where it's still against my cheek and lightly kiss those slender fingers of hers. She inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away. I look directly into her eyes, waiting for a sign of some kind.
She glances up, for just a second and jerks back. “Wait, what are you doing in here?” Her voice cracks a little, higher pitched than normal.
I back up, sensing her distress. “I tried knocking, but you didn’t hear me. You left the door unlocked.” I keep my explanation calm. The last thing I need is for her to flip and decide I'm some kind of predator.
“You can’t just came in here like that. You could be a robber, or worse, a rapist!”
Just like that, I gain that danger status I don't want. “Anne, you have the door unlocked. The music is loud enough that you couldn’t hear me come in. You are fucking lucky, babe. What the hell are you doing not having the door locked?”
“I…I didn’t think…” she whispered.
“Well, you better start thinking. You being here alone, anything could happen, damn it!” I glare at the door, trying to calm down. Why the fuck is this bothering the shit out of me so much? She’s just some chick, not someone I know. Sniffling sounds grab my attention, and I turn back towards Anne. “Fuck!!! Not tears babe.”