“Ex-wife,” he corrected. “We divorced a few years ago. We ran the company and had a building in Manhattan. It was her father’s company before he signed it over to us. He also had other real estate here where his family was from originally. His sons got the other properties in New York, and his daughter, being the eldest, got the company. She’s the overseer now since we sold it to a larger corporation.”
“Holy friggin’ moly, I can’t believe it,” I said, bringing my hands to my face.
“I have the proceeds from that sale. I may not look like it, but I’m actually a multi-millionaire.”
My jaw dropped, and I felt my eyes widening. “Bullshit. You are so not a millionaire,” I said after a few seconds taking it all in. “Are you?”
“Multi-millionaire,” he reiterated. “Now listen, Lainey, please. I never meant to deceive you, okay? It’s just I hate who I was back then. You wouldn’t have liked me. Trust what I’m saying on that, and I’ve done everything in my power to avoid becoming that kind of man again. What you see now is who I want to be and I’m not going back.”
“So, all this… this… what we’ve done these past days… was it for real, or was I just a welcome distraction?” I asked, hoping deep inside I wouldn’t be disappointed by his answer.
“A welcome distraction? You bet you are,” he said, smiling, “but please understand, I may have been hasty, but it doesn’t change my feelings for you one bit. I’m responsible for the choices I make, and I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And you, Lainey, I’ve wanted to be with you from the moment we first met.”
And there it was… so much to digest.
“It just doesn’t seem like you, though.” I still felt a little crushed that he hadn’t told me before.
“It isn’t me, at least, not the me I am now. The me I hope I am is a rancher and a sincere lover. The old Calvin was a ruthless, arrogant and greedy son-of-a-bitch, driven only by the pursuit of money. I partied hard and flashed the cash, so I’m well-remembered around here.”
“So that’s why the bouncer let us straight in at the club.” It was all falling into place for me now.
“Yes, but I want to put that reputation behind me and focus on the life I’ve made for myself.” He sighed and gave me a pointed look then added, “There’s no denying I’d be really hurt if you left, or decided you didn’t want to see me anymore, but I couldn’t blame you if you didn’t, now you know the truth.”
Yes, I had the right to decide, but what would I be deciding? Did I want to be with a man who lied for his own convenience? Or, at the very least, someone who chose to hide some important truths about his past from me. Who was the real Calvin? I still felt overwhelmed.
“It’s hard for me to trust people,” I confessed.
“I understand. It would be. You’ve been through a lot.” He seemed so genuine and sincere, but then he’d seemed that way the whole time I’d known him.
“I don’t know what to say.” And that was the truth. Words were not my friend at that moment.
“How about you say, you’ll give me a chance? I know I should have told you before, but we were getting along so well, and I didn’t want to do or say anything to spoil that. You can end it now if you want, but I think we have something special going on between us. I don’t care about money or power anymore. You are all I want, Lainey. So, give us a shot,” then he started laughing again.
“What now? You come out with all that and then start laughing?” I was feeling a little exasperated with his light-heartedness at the situation.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out for my hand, and I let him take it. “I didn’t mean to come across as flippant. I don’t mind saying, I’m a little nervous right now since I don’t want us to end. That would be a tragedy. It’s just that things normally go a little different around here in this city.”
“Oh, how so?” I replied, searching his eyes for sincerity.
“Well, I tell you I’m a multi-millionaire, and you want to end it all because you thought I was just a man of modest means. Just a cowboy from small town Texas. Most of the women I know in this town would be wide-eyed and flushed with greed right now. I love that about you… that you don’t even care about my wealth,” he said genuinely.
He had a point, and I had to admit he hadn’t really changed since I’d known him. Ok, so he wasn’t exactly what my whacked-out fantasy had made him out to be. I realized then I’d been a little irrational by putting him on that pedestal. I mean, we’re both in our twenties. Who doesn’t have a past? Aren’t people allowed second chances? Did I really care if he had an ex-wife? Did it matter to me that he was once an arrogant asshole?
Nope. I believed him when he said he’d changed and stepped away from all that. He’d been the perfect gentleman since we met, and on the plus side, he loved my hometown of New York as much as I did. He was my oh, so sexy neighbor in Texas. He made me feel like a goddess whenever we made love. Oh, fuck. Yes, he did! And he was a millionaire, to boot... A girl can change her mind, right?
“I’m sorry too. I’ve been judgmental, and it’s just… I had a picture in my head of the kind of man you were… and then we came here, and… it just seemed you were a different person to whom I’d imagined. But you aren’t different, it’s just my understanding of who you are that’s changed. I love it that you like New York, and you’ve been here long enough to know how I feel about it. That’s important to me,” I said softly.
“Thank God,” he said, pulling me close into his muscular chest, wrapping his strong arms around me and hugging me tight. “I was preparing myself for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech for a minute there,” he said with a chuckle. “That would have been the worst scenario I could have imagined. I really love you, Lainey.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, then he took my face in his hands and kissed me so long, so sensuously.
When we finally came up for air, he said, “Listen, I’ve been thinking. What you’re planning to do with the disadvantaged kids is totally amazing, and I want to support you any way I can. You don’t have to go any farther for your funding. I’m more than happy to give it to you. It’s there if you want it.” He smiled graciously.
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe what was happening. “But you hardly know me. What if you… me… what if we…”
“Shhh. That’s not going to happen, ok?” he said with such confidence.
“But, what if—”
“It won’t,” he interrupted. “You’re stuck with me, but to put your mind at rest, I’ll have my lawyers draw something up. I never want that to be an issue, and what good is money to me in a bank? I’d never be able to spend it all, anyway.” His smile widened. His tone, genuine and proud. “I’d love to be involved with this project. It’s an incredible and selfless thing you’re doing.”
Holy crap. Did I just fall on my feet with this guy, or what?
And that was it. My heart melted for him all over again. We made up, made love, and made the rest of our time in New York so memorable, but both looking forward to returning to Texas.
Funny… looking back just a few short weeks, I’d dreaded leaving my beloved city for a one-horse town in the middle of nowhere, but I’d learned a good lesson to embrace change. You never know what’s around the corner.
It was kinda scary to realize that if I’d stayed in New York, I’d never have met and fallen in love with this kind, caring, lovable knight in shining armor, and I was so proud to call him my boyfriend.
He said I was stuck with him. Poor guy. He didn’t know what he’d signed up for, but I’d be saddling up on that sexy cowboy, every day.
Happy trails…
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Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank all of you, my amazing readers, Facebook fans, newsletter subscribers, beta readers and the most incredible street team for all that you do. I so appreciate your love and support from the bottom of my heart. Y’all rock! And last but not least, thanks to my editor and cover designer who make my words and ideas sparkle!
Southern Heat
Complete Series Collection
Amanda Heartley
© 2017 Cheeky Books Ltd
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Amanda Heartley
Copyright © 2017 Cheeky Books Ltd
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Southern Heat - Book 1
Amanda Heartley
© 2017 Cheeky Books Ltd
Chapter 1
Oh, Gramps. Why now? Why do you have to be sick today? I love you more than I can say, but how can I give up the most important audition of my life to fly back to Georgia?
Annie looked at her watch as she tried not to worry about her only living relative—maybe lying on his deathbed—maybe not. Gramps was three thousand miles away on the opposite end of the country and today was Annie’s chance of a lifetime.
She fidgeted. What was taking this Mr. Rossen guy so long? Sure, casting directors were busy ad important, but this was taking longer than she’d thought it would. And this particular casting director was so important—he could change her life, make her a star, and make all of Gramps’ sacrifices for her more than worthwhile.
She’d been asked to call the hospital in half an hour for an update on Gramps’ condition and she wasn’t getting a strong cell signal in this warehouse-turned casting set. If she went outside to make the call, she could miss her turn.
Annie paced nervously up and down the hall outside the waiting room. She had to get away from the other actresses who’d be trying out for the same part. They were more beautiful and more talented than she was. An Annie knew that Vic Rossen would probably pick one of them instead of her.
“UGH! Stop it!” she whispered to herself, she was just as, or even more qualified to take on this part. Hell, she’d been in Hollywood long enough to know most of these actresses were fresh faces that’d never been to acting school. They’d thought their wit and charm could get them a role like this. Annie knew it well, because when she first landed, she felt the same way as they do now.
The door opened, a leggy blonde came out with her face buried in her hands and Annie heard her sobs all the way to the elevator.
Oh, God, she prayed. Please don’t let that happen to me. To take her mind off what Rossen might have done to the girl to reduce her to tears, she looked at her watch again and then back to the wall. She glanced at her fingernails—they were clean, well-manicured, and professional-looking. Without thinking, she raised her hand to her mouth and chewed on the little bit of growth that remained, and then stopped herself when she realized what she was doing. She hadn’t chewed her nails in years, and this Mr. Rossen guy didn’t need to see her with raggedy, chewed-up fingernails. It was bad enough that she worried her deodorant wouldn’t hold up.
She ran her fingers through her hair. That’s all she’d need for her grand entrance—bloody cuticles and sweat-stained armpits. Not a good first impression for a professional actress. She needed to calm down—and fast. She’d been to hundreds of auditions and reminded herself that this was just another audition, like all the rest—even though it wasn’t. This one wasn’t just big—it was fucking huge.
Annie couldn’t stand the suspense and went back into the waiting room to see what was happening. All down the side of the wide expanse of plush carpet and art deco walls, sat dozens of beautiful girls who were more similar to Annie than not. Each one of them would be trying out for the same part—a dream role in a film directed by the hottest name in Hollywood. A role that could launch their career to the stars—if they were successful.
As if she hadn’t already been nervous enough, she thought about how much was on the line this morning, and it made her downright terrified. She tried to calm herself and remembered the countless hours she’d spent rehearsing her lines for this one audition.
“Annabelle Gibbons. Annabelle Gibbons!” The high-pitched voice came from a man with a clipboard. He stood in the doorway with his hand on his hip as he impatiently shouted her name. His tight, black leather jeans showed off his junk, and his light blue, sequined t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showed off his smooth, dark muscled arms. His black hair was perfectly gelled into a faux-hawk and his shoes—well, his shoes were black Harley boots but that was no use to her. It was the sequins that gave him away.
She waved, “That’s me.”
“Okay, let’s do you. You’re up, sweetie,” he said as she began to walk toward him.
Her heart pounded in her head, but she smiled a warm
thank you, and ducked behind him into the room. As she walked in, she felt dwarfed by the large open space which contained only a cluttered desk and a long table. Stacks of résumés and headshots were spread haphazardly across the table, but, it wasn’t the table that drew her attention. It was the gorgeous man who sat behind the desk that caught her eye. She’d been to more of these open auditions than she could remember and she’d never seen anyone as yummy as he was.
Please, deodorant, she prayed to herself, don’t fail me now. Breathe.
The guy looked to be in his late twenties, with a chiseled jaw and piercing grey eyes. Even though her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, she smiled her brightest smile.
“Mr. Rossen,” she said. “I’m Annabelle, Annabelle Gibbons. I’ll be …”
He didn’t even look up, and her voice faltered a little. “I’ll be trying out for the part of Kate.”
It seemed like an eternity while she waited for him to acknowledge her. Finally, he glanced up and he scanned her body until at last, he looked straight into her eyes.
“Obviously,” he said disdainfully as he waved her résumé at her and she immediately felt like an idiot. His voice had a trace of European accent—German maybe, Polish? He looked back down at the papers in front of him. “So? Begin.”
She swallowed hard. She expected a little more questioning, or at least politeness before she began, but apparently, Mr. High-and-Mighty had more important things to do than to show some manners.
She scowled and took a deep breath to calm herself. She’d show him—she’d give him the best reading of his life.
Annie straightened her back, launched into the role and gave it her all. She wasn’t just reading Kate, the character filled with despair at losing her husband in a motorcycle accident. The thought of Gramps, possibly dying back in Georgia came to her mind and suddenly she was the grieving Kate, with every fiber and cell of her being. When she finished, slightly out of breath from the emotions of the part, she stood in front of him and waited. His hand idly reached out to grab her résumé off of one stack and slipped it onto another.
Saddled On The Cowboy Page 11