Bright Haven: An Amberly Novella

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Bright Haven: An Amberly Novella Page 1

by Edith Scott




  Bright Haven

  An Amberly Novella

  Edith Scott

  Illustrated by

  Harriet Adams

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Want More?

  11. Stray Home Chapter 1

  12. Praise for Stray Home

  13. Tiger Tricks

  14. Tiger Tricks Chapter 1

  15. Tiger Tricks Chapter 2

  16. Tiger Tricks Chapter 3

  17. Tiger Tricks Chapter 4

  18. Praise for Tiger Tricks

  Glögg

  Copyright © 2016 by Edith Scott

  All rights reserved.

  Cover: Resplendent Media

  Illustrations: Harriet Adams ([email protected])

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

  Bright Haven is a novella set in Amberly, a fictional town in the United States, and as such uses American English throughout.

  To read more books set in Amberly, please visit the Edith Scott page.

  For more free books from Edith Scott, please join the mailing list.

  Foreword

  Bright Haven is a novella that takes place between Stray Home and Tiger Tricks. You can read these books in any order, and it won’t ruin anything if you read this book first.

  However, if you prefer to read the books chronologically, here is the order the stories occur:

  Stray Home

  Bright Haven

  Tiger Tricks

  You can find Stray Home and Tiger Tricks in Kindle Unlimited for a little longer, so grab them while you can!

  There are previews for Stray Home and Tiger Tricks at the end of this book, along with links to get to them, and even a bonus recipe I couldn’t resist including.

  Bright Haven is set at Christmastime, but is an anytime book. As they say in the song referenced in the story, it’s Christmas until Easter! Well, first there is Lent and fasting. ;-)

  Never argue with a drinking song. That’s my motto.

  Enjoy the book!

  Love,

  Edith Scott

  1

  David

  “Do you think it will ever stop snowing?” Mike said, peering out our kitchen window. His breath steamed over the glass, adding to the wintery effect.

  I slid my arm around Mike’s muscled waist and leaned over to look out the window with him. “I’m just glad it finally looks like the holidays. I want our first Christmas in this house together to be perfect.” Even though Mike had been here for months, I wasn’t over the novelty of living with him.

  I’d dreamed about being with Mike almost my entire life. When we were kids and he moved in and became my best friend, everything felt right. Later when we were in college, after a particularly hot and daring night in a hot tub, we both realized we were more than just friends.

  That cued a time in my life that later I would return to in my memories over and over. Due to interference by my homophobic father and my youthful weakness, I lost my Mike. Not only did we break up, but Mike joined the Army, left Amberly, and I didn’t see or hear from him for nine years.

  Before he walked into my examining room with a puppy, I thought I’d never see him again.

  But here he was. In my kitchen. In our kitchen. In living color. Sharing the view in the window. Sharing my bed. Sharing my life.

  This was going to be our first Christmas together in a very long time.

  “We’re still on schedule with the checklist, right?” Mike wanted to know. He turned and furrowed his brow, thinking.

  I laughed, a happy bubble rising in my chest. As if he didn’t know that we were on schedule. Mike always stayed on top of everything. Even something as lighthearted as Christmas organization did not escape Mike’s military efficiency.

  Just then a familiar presence trotted up behind us, nudged Mike’s leg, and dropped a ball on my foot.

  “Hey there Bacon,” I laughed, reaching down to pet the smiling golden retriever’s silky head. “I think you meant to drop that on Mike.”

  “He misses his girls,” Mike said. “He’s getting a head start on his end-of-week stir craziness.”

  “Do you miss the girls?” I asked Bacon, running my hand back around behind his ear and scratching him where I knew he liked it. Bacon looked into my eyes with an earnest brown gaze and thumped his tail.

  “I see animals all day, and yet I can’t resist you,” I said. “Why is that?”

  Bacon leaned down, picked the ball back up in his mouth, and wagged his tail. I’d seen him carry two balls at a time. Sometimes the girls got him to carry three at once. Silly dog. He loved carrying things around in his mouth. If we didn’t provide him with things, he would have just found random things in the house to gently carry around and move back and forth.

  Bacon loved snuggling up with our black cat Bear, especially now that it was colder. If Bear wasn’t snoozing with Bacon, he was usually out of sight, especially if someone was over at our house, or there was commotion going on. Which, with two twin girls, was most of the time. Every black cat I’d ever had was shy like that, which just added to their allure and mystery in my opinion.

  Thank goodness Bacon was gentle. Retrievers were bred to retrieve game birds shot by hunters. Their mouths are so careful they won’t break a feather. These are the dogs that will adopt kittens or carry baby birds to safety. Obviously Bacon’s a terrible guard dog. But we didn’t need one. We had Mike.

  So, Bacon could definitely handle a ball. Or three. Or one of the dozens of stuffed animals he keeps in the basket by his bed. You should see him sit by the dryer waiting for them to come out after a wash cycle. If you opened the door for him, he would pull them out one at a time. Then he’d carry them to his bed or his toy basket. If only the girls were so dedicated to putting their things away.

  Bacon dropped the ball on my foot again and then sat back expectantly.

  “I thought fetch was a game that the human initiated and the dog obeyed, not the other way around,” I grumbled good-naturedly.

  Mike laughed, watching Bacon thump his tail and look into my eyes, waiting for me to make the next move. “He wants to play. I mean, like you’ve said, he’s still got a lot of puppy in him.”

  I leaned over and picked up the ball before Bacon could beat me to it. “Oh all right,” I said, as if I was so put out. Really, I loved these moments with this dog.

  Bacon jumped to his feet, barked, and wagged his tail wildly. His voice was a funny middle range between squeaky puppy and grown adult dog.

  I threw the ball down the bedroom hallway and Bacon bounded after it. “Now you’ve done it,” Mike chuckled.

  “One more day until the girls come from their mom’s house,” I said. “Then they can chase Bacon
around all he wants.”

  Chloe and Ava were my twin daughters from a marriage I’d attempted after Mike left. Danielle and I were good friends who shared too much wine, too much loneliness, and too much company. It sort of worked to distract me from my heartbreak, but then she got pregnant. She was one of my best friends, and we wanted to do right by the babies, so we gave marriage a go.

  It didn’t take long for both of us to decide we were better as friends and child-rearing partners than as spouses. After the divorce, everything in our relationship slowly worked its way back to the same amicable easy friendship it was before. I know too well this is not usually how these things went.

  In fact, when Mike showed up in the vet clinic with Bacon last year, it was Danielle who encouraged me to get real with my feelings and to get on with my life. I know she was just as annoyed as everyone else, if not more annoyed, that it took me so long to grow up and figure out my life. What can I say? I’m a slow learner. I couldn’t have asked for a better ex-wife. So I have an asshole father and an awesome ex-wife. You can’t have everything.

  Danielle worked long hours at the coffee shop she was taking over from her dad, and I worked as a vet in the next town, so we shared the parenting responsibilities as much as we could. I picked this house both for its adorableness and because it was close to the girls. The girls had bedrooms at both houses, so we tried to make it as easy as possible for them to transition back and forth.

  Tonight they were with their mom. I knew I would get them tomorrow, so I was okay with that. But I’m not sure Bacon was. He could handle the girls being gone for one night, or even two. But when the time rounded onto a third night, his stir crazy kicked in.

  Bacon loved the rambunctious and innocent energy of the girls. I think maybe kids need dogs and dogs need kids.

  That being said, Bacon was Mike’s dog through and through. He went everywhere with him. From the time Mike found him in his kitchen stealing his breakfast right off the table, he’d applied his methodical and gentle structured ways to dog training and it worked. He had him behaving like a champ. Everyone loved Bacon. He was good, friendly, and always had a big smile on his doggy face.

  I couldn’t blame the loyal golden retriever for loving Mike. I understood the sentiment. Mike had a large quiet presence about him. His burly shoulders, broad chest and and boulder-like arms filled any room he inhabited. Somehow his quiet ways made his impact even more pronounced.

  When the girls weren’t there for him to keep track of, Bacon followed Mike everywhere. I would do the same, but I tried to at least be dignified about it. I sighed, admiring the rippling muscles of my boyfriend, wondering how I got to be so lucky.

  “It’s getting dark,” Mike observed. “Let’s see how the lights look in the weather.” He crossed into the living room, and flipped a light switch near the front door. The windows and trees lit up in twinkling lights, turning our wintery yard into a dazzling wonderland.

  “It’s even more beautiful in the snow!” I gasped, following him into the living room and gazing out the multi-paned front window.

  Mike grinned at me. “Aren’t you glad I made sure we hung the lights while it was still warm?” His eye twinkled as he teased me.

  Of course I wanted to hang Christmas lights. I just would have rather done anything else on the last warm Saturday of the year. But Mike was right, as usual. So we buckled down and got them done, and now we reaped the reward.

  As I stood in the window, Mike came behind me and wrapped his enormous arms around me. I’m not a short guy, and I’m not a tiny guy. I’m like a normal-sized guy — a few inches over six feet tall with my weight somewhere between slim and muscular, depending on what Mike had us doing. Sometimes I was more cooperative than others when it came to braving the garage and working the weights with him. He, however, was always dedicated.

  I snugged back into my rugged wall of a boyfriend. He leaned down and kissed my neck and held me in his arms. “It’s just a few weeks until Christmas,” he said. “You know I support whatever you decide. But are you sure about your Christmas Eve party guest list?”

  I stiffened and felt my breathing quicken. I knew what he was getting at. Why Mike was so…charitable about this more than me I didn’t understand. “Why would you even want them here?” I said. “They weren’t exactly kind toward you either.”

  Mike gathered me tighter to him. The caging of his arms helped me feel safe for this conversation. This was good because I needed all the safety I could get. He squeezed me again and then leaned his cheek on the side of my head. “My old man was an ass. No two ways about it,” he said. He paused, not finished with his sentence, and I waited while he gathered his thoughts.

  The snow fell down outside like perfectly spaced white fluffy feathers. It was so weird how snow made everything so quiet. Finally he continued. “But he’s gone now and I know you don’t want to hear this. But someday your dad will be gone too. I’m just making sure you know that if you want to invite your parents for Christmas Eve, I am down for that.”

  A laugh coughed out of me, like an uncontrolled reflex I couldn’t stop. “Maybe I want to have a nice Christmas with the man I love and the family who loves me. I’ve been dealing with his bullshit for so many years, I would like, for once, to have a truly happy holiday.” I breathed in as deeply as I could, and then slowly released the air, calming myself in the exercise.

  Mike squeezed me tight. “That’s fair. I just don’t want you to not have them here on my account. I’ve stared down far scarier than your father.” A chuckle tinted his last words, and I smiled despite myself.

  Amusement bubbled up in me, and I leaned my head further over onto Mike’s big warm chest. “I’m sure that’s true. But what if we had a Christmas without any extended family traditions that we would rather do without? I could do without the Backhanded Compliments of Inadequacy, or the Carol of the Guilt Trip, or even the Gift of Unreasonable Expectations.”

  Mike laughed and snuggled me closer. “Did you know you are even funnier when you are ranting?”

  “This is ranting?” I said with my most innocent voice. “I’m just making sure Santa knows that I don’t want a stocking full of Life Path Based on Someone Else’s Plans.”

  “But can we dance around the house like you told me the Swedes do?” Mike nuzzled my neck, clearly amused at my declarations aimed at no one in the room. “You made that sound like so much fun, and I would love to continue the tradition with your family.”

  “Yes,” I said. “We can do that. As long as you make sure to tell Santa what I just said.”

  Mike ran his hands up and down my arms and then slid them under my shirt until he found bare skin. I shivered in response to his hot and calloused touch, and groaned as he pressed himself against me.

  “Don’t worry. I know what you want for Christmas,” he growled in my ear.

  “Mmm,” I agreed. This was definitely on my Yes Please list. But I wondered if Mike knew what else I wanted. However, even if he asked I wasn’t telling.

  Not yet, anyway.

  2

  David

  Mike pulled me away from the window, turned me around, and kissed me like he’s just been given the go-ahead by a mistletoe ball. I loved kissing Mike. I wrapped my arms around his muscled neck and he pulled my body closer as he twined his tongue around mine. A familiar fire surged through me, and I pressed my growing erection against his.

  Mike ground his hips in circles against mine and still holding me close walked me backwards into the living room. He kissed me fervently, cradling my head in his giant hand. He tipped my head back to expose my neck and kissed and grazed my skin with his teeth. He stopped for a moment, his lips just touching my neck. “I can feel your pulse,” he murmured. “It’s fast.” He sounded pleased with himself.

  I paused, holding perfectly still, like a live deer held by a lion, waiting for him to make his next move. This game, this push and pull, this dynamic between us only got hotter over time. My heart pounded and I
struggled to hold still as my cock strained against the seams of my jeans.

  He held his position, taking my pulse with his lips for another moment, and then slid one of his hands down my stomach and cupped my groin in his hand. I panted as he stroked me through my jeans.

  “Mmm, such a delicious cock,” he said in my ear, as if his own enormous rod wasn’t pressing with steely hardness down my hip and thigh.

  He continued stroking me, and despite trying to keep my reaction to myself, I whimpered.

  “Are you ready for me?” he whispered in my ear, knowing full well what the answer was.

  I closed my eyes and waves of anticipated pleasure washed over me. It was like I could feel the orgasm to come, just by imagining it. “I will be,” I said. I felt my cock surge and twitch, and knew I was leaking onto my boxers. I ground myself into his hand, and against his own trapped cock.

  He walked backwards and pulled me with him until he was sitting on the couch. I stood in front of him, my cock jutting out an awkward bulge in my jeans. Mike looked me over with admiration and hunger in his eyes, and then reached behind his neck and with one motion removed his shirt.

  My eyes widened. I never got tired of the sight of Mike without clothes. He was stacked, built, and strong. He didn’t just work out. He built furniture and lifted heavy things. He was the ornamental and useful kind of buff. And speaking of ornamental, his beautiful tattoos just added to his burly manly appearance.

  I bit my lower lip, my eyes roving all over his body.

  Mike smiled at me, noticing my looking. “Strip for me, baby,” he said. He leaned back on the couch and slowly unbuckled his belt, never taking his eyes off me.

  I glanced at the fireplace, glad that Mike had built a roaring fire earlier. The room was toasty warm. Perfect to get naked. My eyes locked onto Mike’s. I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it on a chair.

 

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