Mend the Seams (Buried Secrets #3)

by Silla Webb

  Debts are due to me and I am willing to crawl through the depths of darkness to claim the retribution of that I seek.

  Playlist

  Yours by Ella Henderson

  Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

  Demons by Imagine Dragons

  Ghost by Ella Henderson

  The Unforgiven by Metallica

  Perfect Strom by Brad Paisley

  Arsonist’s Lullaby by Hozier

  Take Me to Church-Hozier

  Broken-Seether and Amy Lee

  What Lies Beneath-Breaking Benjamin

  The Heart Wants What it Wants-Selena Gomez

  Don’t You Wanna Stay by Jason Aldean and Kelly Clarkson

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you, Jesus, for each blessed day! Thank you for giving me the courage to write these novels!! None of this would be possible without YOU! Amen.

  We all dream. I can remember as a little girl dreamin’ of becomin’ an attorney. I’ve never been an argumentative person, but the law always intrigued me. It’s funny how life changes the course you’re on. At one time, I fully believed that my purpose in life was only to be a Momma. As rewarding as that is, I’ve always craved more. Writing this series has been such an experience. It’s very hard to describe the range of emotions that fictional characters draw from their creators. My characters not only live in my head, but they are deeply embedded in my heart. Upon finishing Mend the Seams, I reflected on all the blessings this last year has brought to me. I can never thank my EVERYONE enough for their support. To each Reader, Blogger, and Author who has been on this journey with me-THANK YOU!!!

  Boss, I love you. I can tell you a million times a day, and it will never be enough. LOOK! I’ve written another book and we’ve both SURVIVED!!!!

  Dalton, Daden and Dawson…this book is dedicated to y’all. Each time I finished a chapter or would cry because the words just wouldn’t flow – y’all were there cheerin’ me on, encouragin’ me to never give up. I pray that I inspire y’all to dream big! Momma loves y’all!

  Amanda, thank you for putting up with my crazy antics, my rantin’ and ravin’, and crazy ideas. Aside from my family, you are the one person who has been through this entire journey with me from the start. When I asked you to profile a secondary male character, I had no intentions of giving him much of a role in the Buried Secrets series. WOW – one hell of a character you created, Sis! The demand for Luke has been simply overwhelming. No matter how many thousand women claim his as their book boyfriend, Luke Ashton is forever yours. Love you, Sis!!

  Tiffani Mowery, my #catcher…you are simply an amazin’ friend. It doesn’t matter how my day is going, you make it brighter! RBF in place always, darlin’!

  Michele Mowery-Stevens, my Big Sis…who knew your quiet little neighbor lady was such a freak, right?! Football will always be ours!

  Kaylee Lovering, thank you for takin’ a leap of faith in a little ‘ol country gal like me. I love our daily chats! #SJDLadies Forever…or BT, or E…egh-whoever! LOL!!

  To my BETAS: Jodie Squelch, Ashley Hampton, Maureen Mayer, Christina Turner, Andrea Huseman, Alicia Marietta, Melissa DeVita, and Tabby Coots – you girls ROCK!!!!! Absolutely amazing!!

  Silla’s Sexy Miners – you girls do an amazing job at promoting me and my series. You are everyone sweethearts and I love y’all dearly!

  Julie *Chocolate* Bailes – woman, I cannot wait to get my arms around your neck!!! You are like my long lost sister! Always there when I need anything! Love you doll!!!

  Angel Justice, Melissa Blake and Ashley Hampton – thank you all so much for helping me with research! It was a bit scary getting out of my element and you ladies made the process so much easier!!!

  Kellie Montgomery and Eye Candy Bookstore-thank you for all of your promotional support and friendship.

  Amy Webb-Curry – love you Sis!!! Thank you so much for standing beside of me and having faith in my work!

  Meet Silla

  Silla Webb is a Kentucky native, raised in the heart of the coal fields. A coal truck driver’s daughter and a railroader’s wife, the coal fields own a special place in her heart.

  Silla is a work at home, Super Momma to three rowdy boys, who keep her on her feet from daylight to sunset. As a pass time from her everyday life, Silla started a blog-Momma’s Secret Book Obsession, for reviewing romance novels. From there, she realized that not only did she have a natural love for reading and reviewing, but she found that lost love of writing that she once had as a young girl.

  When she isn’t conquering the world as a wife, momma and Super Woman, Silla loves to lay on the front porch swing and read while sipping sweet tea, just passin’ the day away.

  Silla Webb~email

  Silla Webb on Facebook

  Silla Webb~Blog

  Momma's Secret Book Obsession~Facebook

  Momma's Secret Book Obsession~Blog

  Silla Webb ~ Pinterest

  Her Greatest Mistake

  Copyright © 2015 by Maureen Mayer

  Chapter 1

  Reid

  “Is this some kind of joke?” I dangled the yellow scrap of material from my finger and scrunched my nose up at the thought of having to squeeze my family jewels into it. Yeah, not happening. I’d known Bryce Hayes since we could first throw a football to one another, and seeing as how we were best friends, he knew I’d bend over backward for him in a heartbeat, but this…this was asking too much.

  “Aww c’mon, Reid. It’s easy money, and we’re short-handed tonight. You know I’d do it for you if you asked.” He smirked as I continued to study what I’d be expected to wear tonight…or lack thereof. Seriously. Not happening, bro.

  “Dude, you couldn’t pay me enough to wear this. For fucks sake, my ass will be hanging out, and I’ll be lucky if I can fit my right nut alone into it.”

  “Well, yeah. I do believe that is the purpose of a G-string, Reid.” He snorted out a boisterous laugh, stepping around me to grab another handful of what looked like multi-colored butt floss from his top dresser drawer. He tossed them across his bed, tilting his head to the side as he glanced back at me questioningly. “You do manscape, don’t you?”

  Do I…

  I shot him a pointed look. Of course I manscape. Just because I wasn’t showing off the goods for the whole world to ogle at, didn’t mean I’d let myself go to shit down there…but that was beside the point. “I’m not wearing this shit.” Sling-shotting it back in his face, I finally cracked a smile. “Why are you still stripping anyway? Thought you’d gotten that out of your system back in college.”

  While attending the University of Baltimore, Bryce had grown quite a reputation for what he referred to as his “extracurricular activities”. Stripping had paid for his rent, car, and half of his tuition, but we all knew he wasn’t doing it just for the steady cash rolling in. Girls passed through Bryce’s bedroom like a revolving door, and it was obvious money was the last thing on his mind. That was just an added bonus, because the real prize came at the end of the night…with her legs spread wide and screaming his name. Couldn’t say I blamed him. I was a guy with a healthy sexual appetite after all.

  After graduating with our MBAs four years ago, we’d decided to go into business together, doing home renovations and remodeling for small businesses. It didn’t take long to build a name for ourselves, and at just twenty-eight years old, we were the most sought after contractors in Ellicott City, Maryland and the surrounding Baltimore area. Now, why Bryce still felt the need to strip was beyond me, because we made more than a decent living in our profession. But thinking back to the real reason he began stripping in the first place…I guess it really shouldn’t have surprised me.

  “Well it seems word of my skills are still traveling through the grapevine, my friend. I started working for Jerry Ackerman last year after a few former clients dropped my name. Guess they couldn’t get enough of me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s good money, even for just a few weekends a month, and I make a killing at bachelor
ette parties. Besides, it’s only a part-time gig, man. I can quit anytime I want to.”

  “Yeah, but you’re too addicted to the attention your dick brings.”

  “I’m not complaining.” His smile grew wider. “You remember Stacy Kensington?”

  Oh I remembered her all right. Legs that went on for miles and a list of conquests that went on even further. Pretty hard to forget when you were the first one she checked off her list freshman year. “The tight blonde from Econ 101,” I nodded. Like it even mattered what class we’d shared together.

  “That’s the one. She just got married this past weekend.” He subtly glanced over at me with mischief churning in his eyes.

  Now that was surprising to hear. “And I should care because…” I trailed off, but I had to admit, I was curious to see why he was acting so coy about it.

  “Because…” He began stuffing the brightly colored banana hammocks, which lucky for me still had the tags attached, into a small duffle bag and shoved them against my chest. “I bagged her and the maid of honor two weeks ago.”

  Unbelievable… Wait, no, I could definitely believe that. He wasn’t nicknamed the Prince of Pussy for nothing.

  “You’re a class act, man. If only Martha Hayes knew about your extracurricular activities.”

  He slowly turned to me, all of the previous humor lost from the expression now frozen on his face. “You speak one word of this to my mom, and so help me…”

  “You’ll what?” I folded my arms across my chest. “’Cause the way I see it, you’ve got a lot more to lose here than I do.”

  “Fine.” He hung his head and sighed in defeat. “Look, do me this one solid, and I promise I’ll never ask you again. It’s just one night.” The playful smile slowly returned. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  I mulled that over, and as much as I hated to admit it, Bryce was right. I had nothing to lose…other than my dignity. Still, I wasn’t ready to cave so easily, and if I was going to agree to this ridiculous charade tonight, I was going to milk it for all it’s worth.

  “All right. I’ll help you.” The corner of my mouth turned up. “On one condition.”

  “You name it, and it’s done, man.” He rubbed his hands together, pleased that he’d gotten his way. I wouldn’t get too excited if I were him.

  “You have to finish boxing up the rest of my shit.” I had just purchased my very first home and was scheduled to close on the house in one week, but with the amount of clients rolling in and our crazy schedules, I had yet to find time to pack anything. Seeing as Bryce and I had been sharing an apartment for the last two years, he was fully aware of this…and not too pleased by my request either.

  “Finish? Asshole, you haven’t even started!”

  I quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “Reid, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d so dick punch you right now. But since I need your equipment in working order tonight, I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

  I bit back a laugh, knowing he’d get me back for this on the football field tomorrow. “Boxes are in the spare closet. Oh, and if you could label them too, that’d be great.” I slapped him on the back before turning to leave his room. He mumbled under his breath, something about getting the shit-end of this bargain. “What was that, Bryce?”

  “Just…meet me at the hotel at eight. Room three-oh-four.” He slipped me a keycard and reached for the duffle bag I’d thrown back on the bed. “And don’t forget these.”

  Rolling my eyes, I slung it over my shoulder. “I thought it didn’t start until nine.”

  “You know how much girls love to pre-game.” Bryce slipped his hand over his shorts, and grabbed his junk. “He needs to pre-game, too.”

  Of course he did.

  I waited for the click of the door shutting behind me before I leaned my head against the wall and let out a frustrated groan. God, I was such a fucking pushover, and soon I realized that it was going to take a lot more than just making Bryce my moving day bitch to get through tonight. I made a beeline for the kitchen and grabbed the unopened bottle of Jameson, slipping it into the bag with my “uniforms” for the evening’s festivities. How the hell had I let myself get suckered into helping him? Fuck, this was definitely going to require some liquid coercion on my part…and a lot of it.

  * * *

  I pulled into the parking lot of Hotel Monaco around quarter to nine and not a minute sooner. I was in no hurry to get there, and unlike Bryce, I didn’t need to get my dick wet before grinding up on these desperate housewives.

  I slid the keycard he’d given me earlier into the door and could feel the bass from My Darkest Days’ “Porn Star Dancing” rattling the handle, letting me know Bryce had already got things started without me. Laughter filled the room as I found his face buried between a set of double D’s with two half-naked chicks on either side of him. Jesus, the fucker was getting paid to strip for them, and here they were practically dropping their panties in his lap. I had to give it to him though. After all these years, they still kept crawling back for more. Literally. I recognized one of his former hookups kneeling between his legs with her brunette head rhythmically bobbing up and down as she sucked him off. The vibrant red lips tattooed on her left ass cheek were a dead giveaway: Lacey Donovan.

  A few months back, I’d walked in on this exact same scene in the middle of our living room. Once her and Bryce had finished up, she came to my bedroom and not so subtly offered herself up on a silver platter to me, but one thing Bryce and I had agreed on was no sloppy seconds. If any one of us had ever hit that shit, she was off limits, and that rule had remained intact since.

  I caught her glancing over at me as I passed them by, and even with his dick hitting the back of her throat, she curled her lips up around him, grinning seductively, and winked. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that she was wearing a “bride-to-be” sash either. I shook my head. Good luck with that, sweetheart.

  The door leading to the bedroom had been left open a crack, and I quietly slipped in. Other than a glimmer of light trickling in from the adjacent bathroom, the room was blanketed in darkness, and I gladly welcomed it. If I had it my way, I’d stay locked up in there all night, but I still had to keep up my end of the bargain. I grabbed a glass from the counter and took the bottle of Jameson out my bag, pouring myself an ample amount of the amber liquor before tossing it back. Enjoying the slight burn as it numbed all of my thoughts, I poured myself another shot and began to undress. The sooner I got this over with, the better.

  I kicked off my shoes and reached for the button of my pants, reluctantly sliding the zipper down and letting them pool at my feet. My shirt soon followed, and I took my time as I slipped each button through the hole before adding it to the growing pile. Standing there in nothing but my boxer briefs, I finished off the second shot and braced my hands on the counter as I hung my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with this…fucking stripping. I must’ve lost my goddamn mind.

  Slowly lifting my gaze to the mirror in front of me, I reached for the waistband of my boxers, but my eyes widened as I felt the wind being punched from my lungs. A set of crystal-clear blue orbs were staring back at me from across the room with a mixture of fear and hesitant curiosity swirling in their depths. My reaction likely matched hers, for different reasons I’m sure, because while she looked as though she were seeing me for the very first time, I had seen those eyes nightly in my dreams for the last two years.

  But it couldn’t be…

  It wasn’t possible…

  “Bri?” The words struggled to flow past my lips in a hushed plea. A plea that what I was witnessing wasn’t an apparition. That she was physically here with me again.

  She looked down at my hands, thumbs still tucked into the waist of my boxers, and let out a soft gasp. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I figured with everything going on in the other room, no one would notice I was hiding out in here.”

  She quickly scrambled off of the bed, her long blonde hair whipp
ing around as she searched the floor for what I could only assume were her shoes. Her bare feet padded across the room until we were mere inches away from one another, and with her head tipped down, gaze still locked on the floor, I reached out and tucked my finger beneath her chin. I didn’t need to look into her eyes to know because just the simple touch alone let me know it wasn’t her. She wasn’t my Brielle.

  “I-I’ll just grab my shoes and get out of your hair.” Knees buckling, she stumbled and practically forced herself into my arms. Her skin brushed against me, so soft and inviting, and I could smell the mixture of strawberries and cream wafting from her silky, golden hair. Everything about her awakened my senses, and I welcomed the onslaught of unfamiliarity.

  “Hey. It’s all right.” I steadied her before grabbing another glass off of the counter and poured us each a shot of whiskey, sliding one closer to her. “Stay and have a drink with me.”

  She slowly lifted her gaze up, cocking a brow at me as though she were surprised by my invitation. “A drink? Shouldn’t you be out there entertaining…” she trailed off.

  I shook my head, amused by the nervous inflection in her voice, because here I was hiding out right along with her like a fucking coward. “Trust me. I don’t want to be out there any more than you do.”

  “I don’t think…” I gently slipped her hand into mine and led her over to the bed, essentially cutting her off.

  “Exactly…don’t think.” As soon as the back of her legs made contact with the mattress, she sank down on the edge, and I watched her hands fidget in her lap. Extending a glass in her direction, I couldn’t help the smile that crept up one side of my face. She looked so flustered and out of place in this tiny hotel room, and it only made me want to break her out of her comfort zone that much more. “Just one drink. It looks like you could use one more than me right about now.”