Whisper of Attraction
by
Melanie Shawn
Melanie Shawn © 2018
Google Play Edition
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.
This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.
Cover Design by Wildcat Dezigns
Copyedit by Deanna McDonald
Book Design by BB eBooks
Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing
Rev. 1.0
Welcome to Whisper Lake!
Whisper Lake is a spinoff of our bestselling Crossroads series. This cozy, Midwest, tourist town is home to Stone Castle (which is widely believed to be haunted) *insert spooky “oooOOOooo” here*, The Needlepoint Mafia (a knitting club run by three matchmaking “Dons” that may look like sweet, little old ladies, but prove that looks can be deceiving), seasonal festivities that include a Kissing Booth “manned” by dogs…get it…manned, and a lot of well-meaning, meddling folks that love keeping our heroes and heroines on their toes.
Dedication
The entire Whisper Lake series is dedicated to all the romance authors out there who give me endless hours of escape, entertainment, and therapy! Each book is going to highlight three authors that are near and dear to my heart and inspire me to write sassy, fun-loving, swoon-worthy love stories that (I hope) are filled with humor, heart, and heat. Most of you know who you are (because I fangirl SO HARD!) but now the world will know, too, because I am shouting it from the rooftops (and by rooftops I mean the dedication page).
Book three is dedicated to Violet Duke, Erin Nicholas, Samantha Chase, and Lucy Score. This lovely foursome of authors top my list of rereads. Once is NEVER enough when it comes to the stories these masters of romance craft. These women have the distinct honor of penning my FBS (fictional bestie squad). That’s right, I have a fictional group of best friends (don’t judge!)…actually it’s okay if you do, I have Delaney (Getting it All), Abby (Nice Girl To Love Trinity), Paige (One More Promise), and Catalina (The Christmas Fix) for support. They always got my back, lol. But seriously, the characters, towns, and families that these women create are so real that when I’m reading them I am a member of the Montgomery and Bennett family and I live in Cactus Creek and Blue Moon.
Whisper of Attraction has blatant shout-outs and hidden Easter eggs that Violet, Erin, Samantha, and Lucy fans (especially those that follow their social media) will be able to spot. If you haven’t read these bomb-diggity womens’ work, you need to! Everything they write is pure magic that will transport you to a world where you will laugh, cry, and fall madly in love. Happily Ever After Guaranteed!
XO
Shawna
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Book
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Austin’s Story
A Note From Melanie and Shawna
Other Titles by Melanie Shawn
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
New book boyfriend. Check.
Bubble Bath. Check.
Candles. Check.
Glass of wine. Check.
Music. Check.
Brynn Daniels glanced around her bathroom and saw that she had everything she needed to indulge in a rare, quiet evening alone.
Her Kindle was cued up with the latest Erin Nicholas book. She’d dropped a lavender aromatherapy tablet into the hot water that filled her tub. Flickering vanilla Yankee Candles illuminated the room and a generous pour of Roscato Rosé Dolce was flirting with her from beside the speaker that was playing her easy-listening Spotify list.
As the single mom of a thirteen-year-old boy, her two-bedroom, one-bath, eight-hundred-square-foot house was usually filled with the sounds of video games, music, sports, and other teenagers.
She didn’t mind the chaos or the tight quarters though. Heck, it was bigger than the five-hundred-square-foot apartment above the garage that she and Ryder had lived in until her mom had moved to Arizona. It did make her appreciate her alone time though.
Her ex-husband, Max, had surprised them both when he showed up earlier that afternoon and announced that he wanted to take Ryder camping. Technically, this wasn’t his weekend. Last weekend was his weekend, but it had been Labor Day and her ex had decided to go on an impromptu trip to Vegas. He often missed his weekends. Two weeks ago it was because of “a work thing” and two weeks before that it was because Max wasn’t feeling well.
In the twelve years that she and Max had been divorced, her baby daddy had only seen Ryder for his court-assigned visitations about a dozen or so times. Most of the time, just like this, he showed up out of the blue when he wasn’t scheduled to see him.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem to affect her son. Brynn worked hard and sacrificed a lot to provide a stable environment for Ryder. And, for the most part, she thought it had worked.
Ryder loved his dad and was happy to see him when he did. But he didn’t depend on him to keep his word. It was a healthy place for him to be, not that she was analyzing him which was a mortal sin. Oddly enough, her son didn’t appreciate her putting her master’s degree in psychology to use on him or his friends, go figure.
Brynn stared in the mirror as she untied the belt on her robe. As a child, she’d been in more pageants than she could count because her mother fancied herself a psychic and had foreseen Brynn wearing crowns. Growing up in that environment, she’d always been hyperaware of her appearance. But now, she barely recognized the woman staring back at her as the material slipped from her arms.
The visual disconnect could be tracked to her actions a few weeks earlier. She’d decided that she needed a change. So, she sat in her friend Jess’s salon chair and demanded that she “cut it all off.”
Jess had referred to it as the “breakup haircut” which would imply some kind of action in Brynn’s personal life, something that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Sadly, Brynn wasn’t in the chair because she’d gotten her heart broken. To have your heart broken, you’d actually have to put your heart out there, something she hadn’t done in years. Being single was one of the many sacrifices she’d made to provide stability for her son.
She’d tried dating when Ryder was younger, but when you’re a young mom (or teenage mom, in h
er case) the guys in your age bracket are usually more interested in partying than raising a family. And she didn’t blame them.
No one was less interested in raising a family than Ryder’s dad. In fact, her ex-husband might’ve dated more after he’d put a ring on it than he had before.
She ran her fingers through her wavy, red locks that fell just above her shoulders before pinning them to the top of her head. It seemed the ten inches Jess had taken off had weighed down her natural wave. She’d only ever seen herself with curly hair in baby pictures. For as long as she could remember she’d had long, straight hair that fell almost to her waist. These new, bouncy locks were taking her a little bit to get used to.
There were a lot of things that she was having to get used to lately. Ryder was a freshman in high school. The high school where she was a counselor. And his schedule and priorities were morphing before her very eyes. They’d always been just like the Will Smith song: it was just the two of them. They had Saturday pizza nights, Sunday movie nights, and Tuesday game nights. But lately, he’d been with his friends and if he was home he wasn’t spending quality time with her, he was texting and Snapchatting with Fiona Caldwell.
She got it. He was getting older and hanging out with her didn’t hold the same appeal it once did. On a completely different note, it seemed her thirteen-year-old son might have a serious relationship before she did.
A loud buzz interrupted Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” as it played through the speaker. She grabbed her phone to see if it was Ryder. The life of a mom. Every call and text when her son wasn’t around had to be checked immediately, just in case.
It wasn’t him. It was her only other family member, at least that she was in contact with. Her mother.
Shea Daniels was the epitome of a free spirit. Brynn’s mom was a self-professed spiritual guide and intuitive. Until she’d retired and moved to Arizona three years ago, she’d owned and operated The Blue Unicorn. It was a small boutique that sold healing crystals, oils, incense, bohemian clothing—and where she gave readings.
Since Whisper Lake was a thriving tourist town known for its over-the-top festivals and a real-life “haunted” castle, her mom’s shop had done well. Brynn believed that most of the out-of-town patrons just saw the store as a novelty. Still, her mother took her “spiritual gifts” and the items that she sold very seriously.
The text simply read: Are you there?
Yes. Brynn was “there” but the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her mom right now. Partly because she had a nice, hot bath waiting for her and partly because she knew exactly what her mom wanted to talk about. Her father. The man that had never treated her as anything more than a dirty secret.
Growing up, her father had been more of a myth than a reality. Like Santa Claus. Or the Tooth Fairy. He would show up out of the blue and give her presents. He never stayed for more than a few hours and had only made an appearance a handful of times during her formative years.
For a good chunk of her childhood, Brynn thought that’s what all dads were like. But as she got older she realized that a lot of fathers actually lived at home with their families, and if they didn’t, they often showed up more than once every other year.
After being assigned a family tree as a school project in third grade, Brynn had used the opportunity to question her mom about her father. Shea explained to her that Brynn’s father had another family that he lived with.
At the time, Brynn took her mom’s statement at face value and hadn’t questioned the moral or emotional repercussions of the bomb that her mom had dropped on her. She’d just accepted it. That lasted until she was a teenager and curiosity had gotten the better of her. So she’d Googled him. And with one click of her mouse, her entire life changed. Her rose-colored glasses cleared and any innocence that she’d had was stripped from her.
Her father, Ramsey Wilson III, was a senator from Massachusetts. He had a wife and four kids. One of those kids was a daughter who was born exactly six days before Brynn. She’d sat in her room and clicked through image after image, photo op after photo op of his “perfect” family and reality came crashing in on her.
From that day on, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the man that she’d inherited half of her DNA from. Within six months of that discovery she was pregnant and married. She didn’t need to use her degree in psychology to figure out the significance in the timing of that. She’d wanted to create what she never had.
A family.
The last time she’d had any contact with her father was when he’d stopped by two days after Ryder was born. She’d told him to stay away from her and her son. He didn’t even put up a fight, he’d just walked out of the apartment, above her mom’s garage, where she, Max and Ryder had lived.
That was thirteen years ago and the time had gone by in a flash. Days, weeks, even months would pass and Brynn wouldn’t think about her father or his family.
Then about a month ago a news story broke. Her father had been a witness to a shooting. The news reported that her father had been having a private after-hours dinner in a five star restaurant with one of his top campaign contributors. He left the table to make a phone call and when he returned not five minutes later he saw the man slumped over the table in a pool of blood. The news services also reported that an unidentified source close to the investigation revealed that Senator Ramsey Wilson III was able to give a description of the shooter and that the FBI was conducting a nationwide manhunt for the fugitive who was a known hit-man and wanted by the FBI.
That same day she’d received a call from Ramsey saying that the FBI would be keeping him and his family off the radar for a while.
His life had turned upside down and she was relieved that she and Ryder had no ties to the man. His name didn’t appear on her birth certificate, and as far as she knew, her mother had never told anyone of her paternal secret.
The only people Brynn had told were her two best friends, Ali and Jess. And that was only recently, since the story broke. She knew neither woman would ever tell a soul, so her secret was safe.
Her mother had been calling regularly to “check-in” with Brynn which always dissolved, rather quickly, into discussing whatever sensational headline had been revealed that day. Brynn would tell her mother she didn’t care and that he had nothing to do with her, which Shea would ignore completely or even defend Ramsey saying he was her father and nothing would ever change that.
It had always seemed strange to Brynn that her mom had no animosity toward the man that had left her to raise a child on her own. But, the truth was, Brynn felt no ill will toward Max, either. Just like her mother, she didn’t hold the man that she shared a child with accountable for anything.
And people wondered why she’d wanted a degree in psychology.
Brynn dipped her toe into the water to test the temperature and a smile tugged on her lips. It was just hot enough to cause a prickling sensation to break out on her skin, but not so hot it actually burned, which was in her estimation, perfect.
“No,” she preemptively chastised Lucy AKA The Destroyer, her adorable, yet highly mischievous pug before slipping into the tub.
Lucy had never grown out of her “puppy stage” of chewing everything in sight. Especially if it was cotton. She’d eaten more towels, shirts, and blankets than Brynn wanted to think about.
As the heat of the water enveloped her, she gave her munchkin-faced mutt the side-eye to make sure she stayed in her designated corner of the small bathroom. The two-by-two square area she was banished to was far from temptations like toilet paper, the trash, and her plush robe.
When she saw the resignation in her pug’s big brown eyes, she relaxed into bubbly heaven. Just as she was reaching for her Kindle, her phone buzzed again. A quick glance told her it was her mother. Again.
I need to talk to you.
She hadn’t checked the headlines today but she assumed it was something related to her father.
Brynn had no interest in following her fath
er or his story. To her, he was little more than a sperm donor. She was done talking about a man that hadn’t been in her life for over a decade. And now she knew more than ever that she’d made the right decision to cut him off all those years ago.
She ignored the message and tapped her Kindle and the cover of her new book filled the screen. Since she hadn’t had anything remotely resembling a love life in years, Brynn lived vicariously through the romantic lives of the characters in her beloved romance novels. The heroes in these stories never let her down and no matter how difficult the heroines’ circumstances might be, they were strong and always just kept swimming.
She set the device in the holder of the bath caddy and lifted up her wine glass. Her fingers wrapped around the thin stem and she tilted her head back as the fruity, sweet liquid filled her mouth before trickling down her throat as she prepared to lose herself in happily-ever-after.
Just as she was about to be transported into another world, her phone rang. A quick glance revealed that it was her mother. Again.
“Oh, for the love of Pete.”
A frustrated sigh fell from her lips as she sank into the water until it was just shy of her nose. She thought about continuing further beneath the bubbled surface, dunking her head and screaming as she stomped her feet Pretty Woman style, except her tantrum would be born of frustration whereas Vivian’s was out of pure, unadulterated glee.
She opted instead to answer the call. She pressed speaker.
“Hi, Mom. I was just taking a b—”
“Oh good. I’m so glad you picked up, Sunflower. Are you at home?”
“Yes, I was actually just taking a ba—”
“Good!” Her mother interrupted again. “He’ll be there any minute.”
“He’ll? He’ll who?”
“Axel Vaughn.”
Brynn wasn’t sure if that name was supposed to mean something to her, but it didn’t. And since her mother didn’t elaborate, Brynn figured a follow up was in order. “Who is Axel Vaughn?”
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