by Shyla Colt
This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © 2017 by Shyla Colt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover by: Dreams 2 Media
Edited by: There for you Editing Services
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
Playlist
Thing Called Love: NF
Real: NF
Say You Won’t Let Go: James Arthur
Waiting Game: Banks
Believer: Imagine Dragons
Dedication
For everyone with a love story and those still waiting for theirs to unfold.
Willow
Andrew Hunter is the best thing that ever happened to me … and the worst. Sexy, intelligent, and masculine, he checks all the boxes on the ‘man of my dreams’ wishlist. There’s one catch: he needs a ring before we do the thang. I thought I knew what true love would look and feel like, but he’s showing me I have a lot to learn. Will our sacrifice be worth the ultimate prize in the end? Or will fear keep me from the one thing I’ve always wanted?
Andrew
After love and tragedy crushed my spirit and split my soul, I found myself left to care for two small children. Forced to piece myself back together for them, I focused on career and family. I never expected to meet the one woman who would complete me. The promise I made in desperation keeps me from doing the one thing we both want most. Will my vow cost me the love of my life, or can we make it down the aisle?
Nip it in the Bud
By
Shyla Colt
Chapter One
Willow
I swirl the rum and cola around in my glass and ask myself how I got here again. Licking my wounds didn’t consist of getting dressed up and heading down to the local sports bar, but when Petunia and Olive put their minds together, they’re a force of nature. To be fair, this is more than a ‘shake off rejection’ outing. Petunia and Mason are getting ready to go into preparation for baby mode, and Olive and her husband, Luca, are getting ready to leave on their much-deserved honeymoon they put off for the past three months.
Saying no to heading downtown to visit the sports bar, Lachey’s, wasn’t an option when we have an entire girls’ weekend planned. In the back of my mind, I always thought things would eventually come together for me and Ross. We got along well, and our non-dates were increasing in frequency. The ‘I’m not looking to be more than friends’ talk after dinner and a movie a few weeks back caught me off guard.
His ‘You’re a great girl, but I’m not looking to be in a relationship’ speech is one I haven’t heard since I was in college. The words ring in my ears on repeat, cutting into me like a sharp-edged blade. It wasn’t that hung up on Ross, though his accent and personality do make him a great catch. It was more than that. I’m acutely aware of my single status at the moment. I’m pushing thirty-four with no prospects on the horizon. Which would be fine, if I wasn’t so damn lonely lately. Watching my best friends settle down and prepare to start families is highlighting how much my own love life is sorely lacking.
I glance over at the table where Petunia and Olive are devouring Spinach Artichoke Dip. I volunteered to get the next round, but it was more of a ploy to step away.
“They’re crowded tonight.”
The rich baritone comes from my left. I turn and nearly lose my breath at the sight of the man beside me. His green eyes are full or mirth and humor. Full lips complement a square jawline, and a few pieces of sandy brown hair are visible from beneath his Cincinnati Reds hat. You’ve got to love a man with pride in his city.
“Very. But that’s a good sign. You know the food will be fresh, and the drinks will be on point,” I reply. Dressed in a crisp white T-shirt paired with ripped up dark denim and Timberlands, he exudes masculinity. Turning my body toward him, I continue my appreciative once over. I’m six foot, so he’s easily six foot three or four, and lean.
“That’s true,” he says with a smile, revealing a deep dimple in his left cheek. “Are you here with friends?”
I glance down to hide my smirk. He’s trying to figure out if I’m on a date.
“Yeah, it’s girls’ night. It’s my turn to buy a round. How about you?”
“I’m hanging out with my brother and my cousin. I travel a lot for my job, and it’s been a while since our schedules allowed us all to get together.”
Color me intrigued.
“What do you do?”
He laughs. “If I tell you, everything will change, and I like this conversation we have going too much to let that happen.”
I arch my eyebrow. “Is it illegal?”
He shakes his head. “Not even close. It’s just unusual.”
“I’m all for a little mystique, but you have to give me more than that since you brought it up.”
“How about we make a deal? You tell me more about yourself, and then I’ll tell you more about my job?”
“Very smooth move,” I say with a laugh.
“Just trying to keep the conversation flowing with a beautiful woman.”
Nice. There’s a sweet sincerity about him. I like his playful approach. If he’s feeding me lines, he’s a master at it.
“Okay, I’ll play along.”
He gives me a full-on grin that steals my breath away. There’s an openness to it. You don’t experience that with many people nowadays.
“We should start with introductions. I’m Andrew, but everyone calls me Drew.” He holds out his hand.
“Hi Drew, I’m Willow, and if you want to stay on my good side, you will not call me Will.” We shake, and a jolt of electricity flows through my body. I blink, stunned by the response to skin against skin.
His eyes widen slightly. “Nice to meet you, Willow.”
I like the way my name sounds on his lips. His voice softens, and there’s a touch of something amazingly close to wonder, as if I’m some newly discovered treasure.
“Likewise.”
“So, tell me something about yourself, Willow.”
“I work as a florist.”
“I had a bunch of flower puns that came to mind, but I’m going to bite my tongue, so you don’t see what a nerd I really am.”
I laugh. “No, please, let your geek flag fly. You’re in like-minded company.”
“Careful, you don’t know the Pandora’s box you could be opening.”
I sip on my drink, amused. “I’ve never been afraid of a little risk. Are you going to talk baseball cards to me?”
He snickers. “No, that was never really my first love.”
“Oh, and what is?”
“Music.”
“Are you a vinyl lover?” I ask.
He nods. “There’s something extra about analog recordings.”
“They have their own personality,” I agree.
“More life,” he whispers. His lips curve upward. “You get it.”
“I have an extensive collection.”
“So you’ve been to Shake it Records?” he asks, mentioning the two-story record store on the Northside with a fairly impressive selection.
&
nbsp; “Yeah, I love that place. It’s an easy way to spend a couple of hours.”
The bodies shift, and we find ourselves in front of the bartender.
“Can I help whoever’s next?” the brunette bartender with flowing locks asks.
“Ladies first,” Drew says.
I flash him a smile. “Can I get a Kentucky Bourbon Ale, a cola, and a Stella Artois?”
“Coming right up.” She pours the drinks quickly from the taps. “That’ll be twelve dollars.”
I place a twenty down. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you,” she replies with a smile.
I hesitate, glancing at Drew.
“Is that your table over there?” He nods toward where Petunia and Olive are eyeing us with interest.
“It is.”
“How about I find you after I drop my drinks off?” he asks.
I pause. Ideally, a bar isn’t the best place to meet someone, but my gut tells me I’d regret not getting to know him better. “I’d like that.”
“See you soon, beauty.” He winks as I balance the three drinks and make my way from the bar.
“Girl, what was that?” Petunia asks.
“That was Drew. We met waiting for drinks, and … um, I think he’s going to come and visit.”
“Oh, he has manners then. I like him already,” Olive says.
Biting my lip to keep from smiling, I shrug. “He seems like a nice guy.”
Ten minutes later, Drew appears at our table.
“Good evening, ladies. My new friend, Willow, said it’d be okay if I stopped by for a visit.”
Petunia and Olive glance at one another and smile.
“Please, join us.” Petunia gestures toward the empty seat beside me.
“Yes, any friend of Willow’s is welcome,” Olive adds. They’re laying it on thick.
“I appreciate it,” Drew says as he pulls out his chair and takes a seat beside me.
“Drew, this is Petunia and Olive. Girls, this is Drew.”
“So, Drew, tell us a bit about yourself,” Petunia prompts as she studies him with narrowed eyes.
“Well, my name is Drew Hunter. I like dogs, sunsets, and long walks on the beach.”
The girls exchange worried glances as his cheese factor rockets.
Ha pauses and smirks. “Naw I’m playing though.”
We all laugh. “I was born and raised not too far from Cincinnati in Amelia. I have a home there now close to my family. We’re a close-knit crew. I’m thirty-three. I work in the music industry. I collect vinyl records, and my job keeps me traveling.”
The girls share a glance.
“If you’ll excuse me, Olive and I are going to make our way to the little lady’s room. But please, don’t let that stop you too from chatting.”
I roll my eyes. They’re so obvious and unrepentant about it.
“I guess I passed the first test?” Drew says.
“You didn’t ring any psycho alarms, so yeah.”
“You owe me a few facts about yourself, Willow.”
“I’m thirty-four, born and raised in Loveland, where I co-run a floral shop with Petunia.”
“You like what you do. Your entire face lights up when you talk about it.”
“I love it. I get to help run the show, without the hassle and headaches that come with ownership.” I shudder thinking about taxes at the end of the year.
“I know you collect vinyl, what else do you like to do?”
“I love to take road trips, and do crafty things,” I shrug. “I’m not very exciting.”
“I think that’s a lie. I’ve barely known you for thirty minutes, and you have my heart speeding.”
Licking my lips, I tuck a strand of my flat-ironed hair behind my ears. “You’re pretty charming. You know that?”
He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m just speaking truth. You’re a beautiful woman with a nice laugh, and I think we might have a lot in common. I’d like to get to know you better if I could.”
I take a drink of beer to moisten my dry mouth. This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight. I hadn’t even wanted to come, but I knew it would let the girls down.
“If you want my number, I need to know what you do.”
He sighs. “I’m a performer.”
“Like in a band?”
“No, I’m a solo artist.”
“What kind of music.”
“Hip hop.”
I narrow my gaze. The clothes and the swagger make more sense.
“What kind of hip hop artist are you?”
“I’m a rapper.”
I bite back a moan of disappointment. Of course, you are. I should’ve known he was too good to be true. All the traveling he does, and the number of women he must see allowed him to perfect his pick-up game.
“That look on your face is why I don’t like to talk about my job right away. I promise you, whatever you’re thinking about me, my life, or my job is wrong.”
“Oh, really?” I say skeptically.
“I’m a Christian rapper.”
And the mic drops.
“Wait. How does that even work?”
His lips twitch up into a smile. “Same concept, same beats, different delivery, and content.”
“Wow.” I did not see that coming.
“I’m the only Christian rapper signed to a major label right now.”
“That’s … I honestly don’t know what to say.” Major label? How famous is this guy?
He laughs. “It’s all right.”
“What’s your name?”
“You’re going to be disappointed. I don’t have a fancy moniker. I go by A.H.”
“A.H. I like it. Sometimes less is more.”
He grins. “Exactly.”
“What do you rap about?”
“Things that have happened to me. Issues I’ve worked through, or I’m working through. Things I wish people had told me when I was younger. In so many ways our youth are in crisis mode, dealing with things daily we never had to. They need to hear they’re not alone. That someone has been there and come out on the other side. When you’re that young, things seem so final and all-consuming. They need a reminder that the teen years are just the tip of the iceberg.”
The passion in his voice tells me this cause is important to him. I admire that. If he puts this into his music, I’m not surprised he ended up with a deal. “How long have you been rapping?”
“Since high school. It was an outlet for me. I had some tough situations to deal with, and this helped me find my way through all that.”
There’s a novel-worthy story behind that statement, and what’s more important, I want to read the book.
“Now that you know what I do, will we be talking again?”
His face has become devoid of emotions.
“Is this the point where you and most women part ways?” I ask, genuinely surprised. In a world where women claim they can’t find a good man, they’d overlook a sexy, passionate man bringing a positive message.
“They don’t understand what I’m doing, or why I live my life the way I do. Every job has its pros and cons. I happen to be under scrutiny from time to time, and it can add pressure.”
“I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be watched and judged.”
“Not easy. No one on this earth is perfect, and I would never claim to be. Yet, people want to treat you as if you should be.”
“That’s deep.”
“It’s true, unfortunately. I try to live my life in a way that keeps me true to what I believe.”
I’m intrigued by this man.
“And what do you believe?” I lean in to hear him over the voices and music surrounding us.
“Oh, we’ve progressed,” Olive says in a sing-song voice.
Drew chuckles. “I know it’s a girls’ night, so I won’t intrude any further.” He takes out his phone, and I follow suit. We both know there’s plenty left for us to talk about. It’s refreshing meeting a man who’s so d
ifferent from the ones I’ve known before. I want to peel back his layers and see what actually lies beneath.
He stands. “You ladies enjoy your night. Willow, I’ll be talking to you soon.”
Smiling, I watch him disappear into the crowd.
“We send you to the bar, and you came back with tall, polite, and handsome,” Olive teases.
I giggle. “I guess I did.”
“Still worried about Ross?” Petunia asks.
“Who?”
She nods her head. “That’s my girl. I think we’ve successfully cured her, Olive.”
“No, I think, Drew did that all on his own,” Olive replies.
“Come on, you guys. He seems like a nice guy, but how any times have we thought that only to be proven wrong? I’m not getting my hopes up.” Even as the words leave my lips, I know I’m lying. There’s something special about Drew. The current that flowed between us begged to be explored.
“Don’t go into it with a closed mine. We all deserve a happy ending. Maybe he’s yours?” Olive says.
I’m not going to burst her bubble. Olive’s always been a little new agey, and her unexpected romance with candy billionaire, Luca Davenport, has her seeing, even more, stars in the sky. I learned a long time ago that what we deserve and what we get are often two completely different things.
“You’re right.” I give what I hope is a convincing smile. “But what I want to hear more about is this international honeymoon you’re going on. What countries are you hitting again?”
She beams as the conversation shifts, and I let Drew drift into the back of my mind.
***
Drew
The sound of little girl laughter floats up through the wooden fence. The symphony of joy brings a smile to my face. It’s an outward sign of the happiness Neomi and Iliana feel. Seeing them happy, healthy, and safe is all I’ve ever wanted for my daughters. They’re secure with me. There’s no endless stream of daycares as they move from place to place, strangers in and out of the house, or downward spirals.
I tried to give Monica the benefit of the doubt. I know what recovery is like. Addiction is a lifelong battle. As the son of an addict and a former user, I know this better than most. But she had plenty of chances to prove herself. Taking the girls and keeping them with me full time was the right thing to do. They’ve blossomed over the past couple of years, and I refuse to let anything happen to halt that process.