Cole squeezed my hand under the table. “Ruby’s exhausted, Mum. I’ll show her the room.”
“I think Audra should take her, dear. You might end up keeping her awake,” his mother winked.
I loved that her suggestive joke didn’t embarrass anyone at the table.
Audra got up and led me inside, chattering about the castle—when it had been built, the history of their family, and little anecdotes about growing up there with four brothers. I’d have to ask her to repeat it all later, because as interesting as it was, I was too tired to retain any information.
I fell into a gigantic, canopied bed covered with layers of crisp sheets and soft down, asleep in my clothes before Audra closed the door on her way out.
***
Night had fallen on Elgin when I woke, restless from such a long nap and knowing I would regret it in the morning.
A slip of paper on the pillow brushed my nose and I picked it up, smiling at Cole’s looping scrawl.
The Scottish Royal requests the presence of his Voodoo Queen out by the lake. It’s about a ten minute walk straight south from the rear of the house. Come alone or perish (clothing optional).
I snorted. Like I was wandering the grounds naked.
The note planted a smile on my face that I couldn’t wipe away as I brushed the tangles from my hair and slipped a clean sundress and a sweater over my head. I did compromise on the clothing, leaving my underclothes in my suitcase, and slipped downstairs through the quiet house.
It took me ten minutes to find the back door, and another two to figure out which way was south, but the adventure was well worth it the moment the lake—and Cole—came into view.
He stood with his back to me, naked from the waist up and covered with a kilt from the waist down. The muscles bulging across his shoulders caught the light from the full moon as it spilled over him and winked off the lake. The scene could have been a postcard, if they made naughty postcards that made people want to visit Scotland in the hopes of laying an unbelievably gorgeous man in a kilt.
My gaze lingered long enough that he felt it and turned, face lighting up. It never ceased to make me feel powerful, and beautiful, the way he loved seeing me.
“You came.”
“Of course. How could I resist a royal summons?” I teased, stepping into his embrace.
His skin smelled like grass and moonlight, like musk and lake water, turning me on and spreading a feeling like home through my blood in the space of a breath. The weight that sprung up against my belly suggested I wasn’t the only one dripping with desire after three days apart, and also suggested I wasn’t the only one without underwear.
“I didn’t want my sister to see me prancing around in this getup. She’d never let me live it down.”
“Well, letting me see you prance around in that getup is probably a mistake, because I pretty much want to demand that you never wear anything else from now on.”
“Let me show you the grounds.”
He took my hand and led me around the lake. We crested a small hill and looked out over meadows that dipped and rolled as far as the eye could see. Grass rose to our waists as we trekked about halfway down the other side, and the moment we were hidden from view of everything but the moon, I tumbled us both into the grass.
Our limbs and lips tangled as we fought to get comfortable on the soft ground. The scent of earth and desire filled my nose and I reached under his kilt, sliding my hand up and down the length of him while his eyelashes fluttered and his tongue took what he wanted from my mouth.
We broke apart for air. “I could get into this kilt thing. Easy access.”
“Why do you think Scotsmen still wear them?” He raised an eyebrow then attacked my neck, lips nibbling their way down to my collarbone before slipping the straps of my dress down to my elbows, then pushing it to my waist. Gooseflesh broke out, tightening my flesh.
It felt strange, to be half naked outdoors, but thrilling and amazing, too. A gentle breeze fluttered through the grass, swishing blades against my back. He laid me down, his lips wandering lower until they found my breast. I arched into him, my fingers in his short hair, writhing in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.
It had only been three days but it felt like forever. It wasn’t even totally about the sex, I’d realized while I’d missed him. It was being close to him. Looking into his eyes, feeling his hands on me, clinging to that tangible connection between us.
He pushed my dress off the rest of the way, growling when he realized I’d forgone underwear, too, and spread my legs. When he slid inside me, his kilt covering my knees and his bare chest pressed against mine, I admitted I had missed the sex, too.
We moved together lazily for a while, kissing and staring, smiling and toying with each other. I bit down gently on his earlobe, which I knew drove him wild, and then cried out when he rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He drove into me harder, rocking his hips as I threw my head back and tipped toward him, welcoming him deeper inside me.
We got lost then, bodies sweating even in the May chill and shifting together, slick and thrusting, reveling in the moment, and the growing climax, and each other. He hooked one arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground, holding me so that he could bury himself while an orgasm ripped through me. It felt as though I would never stop; my body clenched around Cole and the world faded as it kept coming, the waves of pleasure so intense I wanted to scream and cry and laugh and never, ever, let go of this man.
He came then, gasping my name into my neck as he rocked hard into me, thrusting until we were both spent. The weight of him on top of me, the still-throbbing length of him inside of me, and the night settling around us felt better than almost anything.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life right here.
A giggle escaped when my senses came back and Cole rose up on an elbow, sliding a few stray hairs off my forehead. “What’s so funny?”
“I just had sex with a guy in a kilt on a hillside in Scotland.”
“I wanted you to have an authentic experience.”
“Oh, so this is how all girls are welcomed to the country?”
His expression turned serious as he drank in my face, then pressed his lips against mine for too brief a moment. “No. There are no other girls as far as I’m concerned. When I look into the future, all I see is you, and us, and a million more moments like this.”
And I knew we would have them. Everything would work out. Cole was my unicorn, and whatever the next couple of years brought, I would never take finding him for granted.
If you enjoyed By Referral Only, please consider leaving a review (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes)! If you don’t feel comfortable leaving one of your own, even taking the time to “like” one that resonates with you is a huge help to the author, and we really appreciate it. Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll read more from me in the future.
Lyla Payne
Acknowledgements
This story could not have come to fruition without a ton of assistance. I’d like to thank my very first readers, Denise Grover Swank and Alessandra Thomas, who said it wasn’t terrible. To my insightful and smart-as-a-whip agent, Kathleen Rushall, for your faith, encouragement, and magical notes that cut right to the heart of any issues. I can’t thank K.P. Simmon enough for all of her tireless work as my publicist, not to mention all the time you spend texting and calming my overwrought nerves.
To my beta readers—Leigh Ann Kopans, Kari Olsen, and Jennifer Carolyn—your feedback was priceless.
I have a fantastic copy editor for this project; Jim Thomsen, thank you so much for fixing all of my grammar and structure faux pas and for making me look as good as humanly possible. My proofreader, Cynthia Moyer, is the reason you’re not bombarded by extra space and missing words, and without her the reading experience would be less enjoyable.
Last, I’d like to thank the writers who opened the doors to this new category of New Adult. You went first and blazed a trail t
hat I’m thrilled and excited to be on. And as always, to the people who read my stories—especially you beautiful, beautiful bloggers—you’re the best part.
About the Author
I’ve long had a love of stories. A few years ago decided to put them down on the page, and even though I have a degree in film and television, novels were the creative outlet where I found a home. I’ve published Young Adult under a different name, but when I got the idea for Broken at Love (my first New Adult title), I couldn’t wait to try something new – and I’m hooked. In my spare time I watch a ton of tennis (no surprise, there), play a ton of tennis, and dedicate a good portion of brain power to dreaming up the next fictitious bad boy we’d all love to meet in real life.
REDESIGNED
An Off the Subject Novel
By
Denise Grover Swank
Redesigned (Off the Subject #2)
While fashion design major Caroline Hunter may have been born economically unlucky, in college, she’s been lucky in love. Until her senior year at Southern University. She’s gone from a serious long term boyfriend to a string of crappy dates.
Then she meets mathematics grad student Reed Pendergraft.
Reed is everything she’s not looking for. Serious. Headed for a low paying university job. Boring. Caroline spent the first eighteen years of her life wondering where her next meal was coming from. She sure wasn’t getting trapped in that life again with a man living on a professor’s salary.
An encounter with Reed in a club proves she might have pegged him wrong. He brings out a lusty side she never knew she had. But just when she’s about to give in to her hormones, Reed makes a fool out of her.
When she shows up for the first committee meeting for Southern University’s Fall fashion show, a fundraiser for underprivileged kids, Caroline’s horrified to discover the insufferable Reed is the committee chairman. While she refuses to tolerate his totalitarian rule of the committee, she’s not sure she’ll survive the month with her heart—and her pride—intact. Just when she thinks she has everything figured out, she finds that her entire life has been redesigned, thanks to Reed Pendergraft.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Cover Design: Heidi Tretheway
Copy Editor: Jim Thomsen
Proof readers: Christine Willmsen, Paola Bell, and Cynthia L. Moyer
Copyright 2013 by Denise Grover Swank
All rights reserved.
Other books by Denise Grover Swank:
Rose Gardner Mysteries
(Humorous Southern mysteries)
TWENTY-EIGHT AND A HALF WISHES
TWENTY-NINE AND A HALF REASONS
THIRTY AND A HALF EXCUSES (July, 2013)
Chosen Series
(Paranormal thriller/Urban fantasy)
CHOSEN
HUNTED
SACRIFICE
REDEMPTION
On the Otherside Series
(Young adult science fiction/romance)
HERE
THERE
The Curse Keepers
(Adult urban fantasy)
THE CURSE KEEPERS (November 19, 2013)
New Adult Contemporary Romance
AFTER MATH
REDESIGNED
BUSINESS AS USUAL (Fall 2013)
Chapter One
I push damp hair off my forehead, irritated with the heat. It’s too hot for late September, even in Tennessee. Still, if I’m honest, my irritation is partially due to the man drinking a beer six feet away from me.
He’s exceptionally good-looking—blond hair, blue eyes, a tan that doesn’t end at his biceps. I’ve seen him without a shirt, and it’s easy to see why many of the girls on campus have nicknamed him Adonis. But more importantly, Dylan Humphrey is pre-law, and he comes from a family of lawyers. Not ambulance chasers, but a prestigious firm in Memphis. I should be happy I’ve finally gotten this close to him, but right now he’s not paying the least bit of attention to me. His attention is focused on my roommate Tina.
“Caroline.” My best friend Scarlett calls my name and pulls me into a hug. I’m a good three inches taller than her in my brown suede stiletto boots. I heard Dylan would be here, and I came dressed to impress with my boots and a jersey dress even though it’s an outdoor party. Scarlett squeezes my arm. “I miss you.”
A lump burns in my throat, but I swallow and force my lips into a smile. “I find that hard to believe with Tucker Price in your bed.”
She swats my arm. “You’ve been hanging around Tina too much.”
“Whose fault is that? I needed a roommate after you moved out.” I try to keep the bite from my words, but a hint of it is there nonetheless.
Tina is the world’s biggest flirt and some would call her a slut, which is probably why Dylan is paying more attention to her right now instead of me. But everyone knows that good southern boys don’t bring bad girls home to their mommas. They bring home well-behaved ladies. I may not have been born a cultured Southern girl, but I play the part well now. I just need to bide my time.
Scarlett rolls her top lip between her teeth and studies me. I recognize this look after living with her for three years—our freshman and sophomore years in a dorm room and our junior year in an apartment. But Scarlett moved out the end of May and into an apartment with her boyfriend, Tucker.
Who would have ever thought that math major/introvert Scarlett Goodwin would end up with a perfect devoted boyfriend—an ex-man-whore before settling down with her—while I’d been single for eleven months? A year ago, I’d felt sorry for her. Funny how things change.
Scarlett finally breaks her silence, her face expressionless. “I’m sorry to hear about the dress store closing. Are you going to be okay?”
I’m trying not to freak out that I’m currently without a part-time job. “I’m fine. I saved a bunch of money working overtime there this summer.” I force a smile. “But I’ve had to talk to Tina about being more prompt with her share of the rent and utilities.”
“I’m sorry I deserted you.”
I shrug. “At least my night life is livelier with Tina.”
Scarlett rolls her eyes. She’s been out with Tina a few times. She knows how wild Tina is. “Well, I’m glad you came to our party, even if you didn’t find a date. Although why you think you need one is beyond me.”
Of course, it’s beyond her. Scarlett wasn’t looking for love when she found Tucker. The boy practically fell in her lap. “Time is short, Scarlett. I’m a senior and have less than a year to find the future Mr. Caroline Hunter.”
“You don’t need a man to make your life fulfilling.” Scarlett sighs. This has to be Round Twenty-Eight of some variation of this discussion. “You need to make yourself happy first.”
“Says the woman with the sexy soccer player for a boyfriend.”
“You forget he left me for two months before he came back. I found my own happiness without him. He only makes my life so much better.”
As if hearing his name, Tucker sneaks up behind Scarlett, wrapping his arms around her stomach and pulling her back to his chest. She looks up at him and smiles. Her face is so full of joy, I nearly gag with envy. I’m not jealous of my friend. I’m happy Tucker came into her life. Scarlett deserves every bit of happiness he brings her and much, much more. I’m jealous of what she has, of what remains so elusive for me. I’ve never had what she has, not even with my two-year relationship with my ex-boyfriend.
“Great turnout, Tucker,” I finally say with a smile. “I’m glad you gave Scarlett a party for her near-perfect GRE score. She’d never celebrate it on her own.”
She turns around to face me, lowering her voice. “You know I hate parties.”
I shake my head. “Talk about an understa
tement. But you deserve a celebration. Besides, Tucker’s invited mostly people you know, with only a few soccer players sprinkled here and there for my and Tina’s amusement.”
Tucker laughs. “You have to admit I’m a great host.”
I lift my eyebrows in a smirk and take a sip of the wine in my red plastic cup. “That you are. Now if you can just get Dylan Humphrey to pay more attention to me than Tina, I’d be a happy girl. Getting him to go out with me would be icing on the cake.”
An ornery look spreads across Tucker’s face. “Done.”
I groan, but I’m secretly happy. Tucker’s not one to back down from a challenge, and I’m positive he’ll follow through without embarrassing me.
For a guy who was narcissistically self-centered less than a year ago, he’s remarkably attentive to Scarlett and her needs, always mindful that social situations tend to make her anxious. And concern for her friends, specifically me, seems to fall under Tucker’s attentiveness. He hardly seems like the guy he was before Scarlett. The guy I’d repeatedly warned her to stay away from. I’m glad he proved me wrong.
“Congratulations, Scarlett.” A male voice interrupts my thoughts.
Scarlett turns around and her face lights up. “Reed! I’m glad you came.”
A guy at least a half-head taller than me stops next to Scarlett. An awkward grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he hands her a small wrapped box. “I wasn’t sure what type of gift one was supposed to give for passing your GRE with such a remarkable score.” The wrapping is crisp white and the bow is gauzy and perfectly tied. It’s obvious he didn’t wrap it unless he’s gay. I look him over. Even though he’s impeccably dressed in pants, shirt and tie, his shoes are scuffed. Not gay.
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