STAY WITH ME
Book Nine in the With Me In Seattle Series
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2018 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design by:
Hang Le
Photography by:
Periwinkle Photography
Interior Design & Formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting
The Big Sky Series:
Charming Hannah
Kissing Jenna
Waiting for Willa—Coming soon!
The Fusion Series:
Listen to Me
Close to You
Blush for Me
The Beauty of Us
Savor You
The Boudreaux Series:
Easy Love
Easy Charm
Easy Melody
Easy Kisses
Easy Magic
Easy Fortune
Easy Nights
The With Me In Seattle Series:
Come Away With Me
Under the Mistletoe With Me
Fight With Me
Play With Me
Rock With Me
Safe With Me
Tied With Me
Breathe With Me
Forever With Me
Stay With Me
The Love Under the Big Sky Series:
Loving Cara
Seducing Lauren
Falling for Jillian
Saving Grace
From 1001 Dark Nights:
Easy With You
Easy for Keeps
No Reservations
Tempting Brooke
The Romancing Manhattan Series:
All the Way
Contents
STAY WITH ME
Books by Kristen Proby
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Enjoy an Excerpt from Kissing Jenna
This book is for the readers. You’ve wanted more from Seattle, and I just couldn’t say no anymore. This is a reminder to never say never, and be careful what you wish for.
~Amelia~
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I sit and stare at my attorney, watching her thin, painted-pink lips move, but I’m definitely not understanding what the hell she’s saying, because I’m pretty sure she just said “your divorce isn’t actually final” and that just can’t be right.
It can’t fucking be right.
“—sorry.”
She’s folded her hands over my file on her desk and is looking at me with sympathetic, blue eyes.
“I apologize, Pam,” I begin and shift in my seat. “You’re going to have to repeat that because I think you just said that I’m not divorced, and that can’t be right.”
“That’s what I said,” Pam replies with a nod. “He contested.”
He motherfucking contested.
“I sat in a courtroom two months ago, and a judge granted the divorce. I have signed papers.”
“I know,” Pam says with a nod. “But because he didn’t appear in court, and he wasn’t pleased with the settlement amount, his lawyer filed contest papers, and the judge granted it.”
“This is bullshit.”
“I don’t disagree with you.”
“I worked for two years to make this divorce happen, Pam.” Two years of panic attacks. Two years of stress. Two years of worrying, every single day, that this divorce would never happen, after five years of mental and emotional abuse. I’m done.
“I know, I’ve been with you for those two years.”
I sit back and stare at her, struck numb. “What now?”
“Well, you’ll have to either go through mediation and reach a settlement between you, or we go to court. Again.”
“Jesus,” I mutter and rub my fingertips over my forehead, trying to wipe away the headache that seems to be permanently housed behind my eyes. “He’s trying to suck me dry. This is just about the money, Pam. He’s not trying to keep me, or save a marriage that has no chance in hell of being saved.”
“I agree with that, as well.” Pam sighs and reads over the letter I received from the court for the third time. “We’re going to get this handled, Lia.”
“I know.” I blow out a breath, determined not to cry. I will not give Vincent Borgen another tear. Ever. “So, what now?”
“I want to have him served with failure to appear papers, and I have a hunch that he’ll have you served with lawsuit papers.”
“A lawsuit?” I stare at her, again, as if she’s grown a second nose. “What in the hell could he possibly sue me for?”
“Oh, about a dozen things, all just to make this process more painful and slow.” She leans forward again. “So, here’s what I want you to do. Get out of town.”
“You want me to leave L.A?”
“Immediately,” she says with a nod. “We want him to be served first, and I don’t want you to be served at all. In the meantime, I’m going to take care of this here.”
“Where am I going to go?” I frown. “I guess I could go to my parents’ in Seattle.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Your parents’ address is on record, and they’ll try to have you served there. Go to Seattle if you want, but don’t stay with them.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter and go back to rubbing my forehead. “Okay, I have other family I can call.”
“Good.”
“This is really bad timing. I’m launching my new makeup brand next month, and all of my meetings are in L.A.”
“I’m sorry,” she says and finally offers me a small smile. “I truly am. I know this is inconvenient and just mean on his part.”
“Typical. He’s got a mean streak the size of Texas.” I rub my forehead again. “I can’t believe I’m not divorced from the jerk.”
“We’ll get it figured out. For now, go on vacation for a while, and I’ll keep you posted as to what’s happening here. If I need you to appear, we’ll arrange it.”
“Okay.”
“And, Lia, you will want to postpone the launch of your brand. Making that kind of money when you aren’t divorced yet will only complicate things.”
“And he could get a cut of it.”
“He could.”
Mother fucker.
“Understood. I’ll be in touch.”
I walk out of her office and to my car, where I sit and stare unblinkingly at the traffic driving by.
Did that just happen? Am I dreaming?
I pinch myself and then frown at the pain. Not dreaming.
So, I need to go somewhere. Not to my parents’. I’m certainly not going
to stay with my brother. Archer has more women coming in and out of his bedroom than, well, anyone should. Gross.
And my sister, Anastasia, is just getting ready to move to Seattle for her new job. She is way too busy to add this to her plate.
I bite my lip and pick up my phone, remembering what my cousin Jules said the last time I saw her. That if I ever need anything, all I have to do is call.
Here’s hoping she meant it.
She answers on the third ring.
“Hello. Oh crap, hold on.” She pulls the phone away from her ear. “Nate, can you take that away from Stella? She could kill herself with that.”
I smile, the sound of her voice making me feel a little better.
“Sorry,” Jules says. “Toddlers are adorable when they sleep. When they’re awake, they’re little terrors.”
“She’s a beautiful terror,” I remind her.
“True. What’s up, Lia?”
“I need your help.” I clear my throat. “I need a place to stay.”
“What’s going on?”
I fill her in on the divorce, and how I’m suddenly not divorced, and how my attorney wants me to lay low for a while.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t stay with my folks, and I don’t like the idea of my name being on a lease somewhere. He’ll just figure out where I am.”
“I never liked him,” she mutters, and I can only nod in agreement. “We will figure this out.”
“Are you sure? I know you have a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to make things difficult.”
“Oh, girl, this is not difficult. You get your beautiful self up here, and we will get you settled. I think I already know of a great place, I just have to call Natalie. Oh, and I’ll talk Nate out of kicking Vinnie’s ass.”
“He can kick his ass. I don’t have an issue with that.”
Jules laughs, and I hear a commotion in the background. “Shit. I have to go. Just text me when you have details.”
She hangs up, and I immediately begin making plans to fly to Seattle.
Today.
~Amelia~
“Are you kidding me?” I’m standing in the middle of a beautiful home that has views of Puget Sound, an open-concept living room and kitchen, and a freaking pool in the backyard. “When you said that you’d find me a place, I didn’t expect this.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not kidding,” Jules says and nods, like it’s no big deal. “Natalie and I used to live here when we were single. Then Brynna and Caleb lived here for a while, but now that they’ve moved into their place out in Bellevue, it’s just been sitting empty.”
“Nat and Luke talked about selling,” Nate adds. Jules’ husband is something to write home about. I can’t look directly at him, or I might embarrass all of us by drooling. With his long hair, dark features, and the sleeve tattoos, he might be every woman’s wet dream. “But they haven’t yet, so it’s the perfect place for you to crash for a while.”
“And the best part is, your name isn’t anywhere on it,” Jules agrees as she slips her hand into her husband’s, linking their fingers. “You can stay here as long as you need to.”
“You’ve bought me furniture,” I point out, still in awe as men carry couches, tables, and beds up the stairs. “This is insane.”
“It was empty because Brynna and Caleb moved out,” Jules says with a frown. “You can’t sleep on the floor.”
“You bought me furniture,” I repeat as if she didn’t hear me.
“You’re family,” Jules says. “So there’s really nothing else to discuss. Do you want me to have one of Nate’s minions bring in groceries?”
“His minions?” I raise a brow, and Jules laughs.
“Inside joke,” she says and smiles up at her husband.
“I can make a call,” Nate says, but I shake my head no.
“I can call Uber Eats for that, or order with any grocery store and pick it up. The internet is a beautiful thing.”
“You’re sure? Nate has people.” Jules tilts her head, watching me with our signature Montgomery blue eyes.
“Me, too.” I hold up my phone for them to see and smile. “Really, I’m great. This is so great.” I feel tears threaten, but before they can fall, Jules wraps me up in her slim arms and holds me close.
“I’m so happy you’re here. Take time to settle in. Luke’s already called to have the internet hooked back up, and the Wi-Fi info is on the kitchen counter.” She backs away and bites her lip as she looks around. “I think that’s it, but if you need anything, just call. We’re not far, and Luke’s right up the street.”
“Where’s Natalie?”
“Oh, she’s around too, but she had a baby about six weeks ago, so Luke keeps her tucked away.” Jules rolls her eyes, and Nate just grins. “Luke’s a little protective.”
“That’s kind of sweet.”
“It’s their fourth baby, Lia.” Jules shakes her head. “He’s turned her into a baby factory.”
“They’re quite happy,” Nate says and then leans in to kiss Jules’ cheek. “And Luke insists they’re finished at four children.”
“Four kids?” I ask. How in the world did I not know that they now have four kids? “Wow, I guess I haven’t been home in a while.”
And that just makes me sad, and angry at Vinnie all over again. I wanted to move home years ago, and he wasn’t having it.
“You haven’t,” Jules says. “But you’re home now, and I hope we get to see plenty of you.”
“That would be great.”
“We should let her get settled,” Nate says. “Here are the keys to Julianne’s little red Lexus.”
“You do not have to give me your car,” I insist. “I can rent one.”
“It’s really no biggie,” Jules says. “I don’t use the Lexus much anymore because it’s too small for Stella’s booster seat. It should get driven.”
“Thank you. And thanks for letting me crash at your condo for a couple of days.”
“It was our pleasure,” Jules replies. “But you’ll be happier here. It’s hard to live with kids that aren’t yours.”
“Stella is beautiful.”
“And a handful.” Nate shrugs. “She’s four.”
We walk toward the door, and Nate stops and looks down at me. The man is tall.
“Lock this door, Lia. Always.”
“I will.” He’s so intense.
“And set the alarm.”
“Yes, sir.” I smirk up at him, and he just smiles.
“Typical Montgomery woman, aren’t you? Sarcastic as hell.”
“Thank you.” I drop into a curtsey and make them both laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll lock up. But I think I’m fairly safe here.”
“You are,” Jules says as she waves and they leave, walking out to their black Mercedes SUV. The Lexus is parked in front of them, gleaming in the warm summer sunshine. It’s going to be a pleasure to drive that little convertible around town. It takes the sting out of missing my own Mercedes in L.A.
I wave them off and walk back inside, obediently locking the door behind me. I guess if I have to be away from home for an unknown length of time, this isn’t a bad place to do it in. It’s great to be back in Seattle, where I know my family is just a phone call away if I need them.
Jules and Nate didn’t have to buy this furniture. I could have done that, but they wanted to, and now I don’t know how I’ll repay them.
Not that they want me to repay them.
I shake my head and walk up the stairs to my bedroom. It has a killer view of the water and an en-suite bathroom with a long countertop, which is perfect for all of my makeup. I’ll use the other bathroom on this floor to store the deliveries that I receive and to go through and decide which products I want to try and which I want to give away.
My job is fucking amazing.
Just when I get my suitcases unpacked and stored in the guest room, the doorbell rings, and everything in me stills.
Well, everything except my heart, wh
ich is beating out of my chest.
“It’s just someone at the door,” I remind myself. “It’s probably not a process server. It’s probably just a delivery.”
Once down the stairs, I peek out a side window and find a man standing in front of the door. He’s tall, with sunglasses covering his eyes. His dark hair is long. Not as long as Nate’s, but he could use a haircut.
He’s wearing a hoodie in the colors of Seattle’s football team, and cargo shorts, which makes me frown.
If he’s cold, why is he wearing shorts?
But the most important thing is, his hands are empty.
I open the door, only wide enough for one eye to peer outside.
“Yes?”
“Hi.” He takes off his sunglasses and offers me a smile. “I’m Wyatt Crawford, your neighbor from across the way.” He points to the large, white house behind him.
“Okay.”
He tilts his head to one side. “I just saw the furniture being moved in here earlier and wanted to introduce myself.”
“Great. Thanks.” I move to shut the door, but he stops me.
“What’s your name?”
“Look, Wyatt, I don’t have any sugar or flour or extra eggs.”
“I’m not baking.”
“And I don’t want any cookies.”
“Not selling.”
“And I don’t need to find Jesus.”
“Last I checked, He wasn’t lost.”
Okay, that makes my lips twitch, but I hold firm.
“Thanks for coming over to say hi. I have stuff to do.” And with that, I shut the door and lock it. I lean my back against the wood and shut my eyes. I’m not a rude woman. But I am unnerved, and my guard is up, and I’m here alone.
Not to mention, I don’t trust men.
I peek out the side window to see Wyatt walking down the driveway toward his house, and I head back upstairs, ready to get my makeshift studio set up in the guest bedroom.
I may not trust men, but the neighbor is handsome. Not that I’m in the market for a handsome man—or any man for that matter.
“If today’s video helped you, please give it a like below, and don’t forget to click that subscribe button to be a part of the Beauty Brigade, my friends. I’ll be back next week with something new. Before I see you again, remember that the most beautiful part about you is what’s inside of you. We’re just polishing up the outside. Have a great week, everyone.”
Stay With Me ~ Kristen Proby Page 1