by Jessica Gray
Running for Love
Los Angeles Armstrongs
(Vivian and Rock)
L.A. Armstrongs Book 4
Armstrong Series Book 10
Jessica Gray
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.
Running for Love, Los Angeles Armstrongs, Book 4
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2017 Jessica Gray
This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.
Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com
Jessica’s Newsletter
Sign up for my newsletter to be the first one to know when I publish a new book
http://www.jessicagraybooks.com/newrelease.html
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
Preview BAD BOY LOVE: FERNANDO
More Books by Jessica
Chapter 1
Vivian Armstrong needed to get her mind off work. She’d been tied up in court almost non-stop, attending a high-profile murder trial for the last few weeks. Usually, she managed to keep the cruel discoveries at distance, but not this time.
As much as she had wanted to not listen, her job as court reporter demanded she hear and transcribe every tiny detail about the gory abuse and ensuing double-murder of two children. Vivian’s head thumped with every heartbeat, and little stars exploded in front of her eyes. The migraine had been lurking all week to attack her.
Not now. Not on the weekend. Vivian groaned and rolled over in her bed. The thumping intensified. A thin line of sunlight peeked through the closed curtains and a glance at the clock showed it was already past ten o’clock.
If she didn’t want to spend the entire weekend in a darkened room, suffering from a full-blown migraine, she had to get up fast. Painkillers and fresh air. Those were her secret weapons to ward off the dreaded attack on her sanity. The pile of laundry could wait… as could the dishes.
Vivian took a quick shower, put a thin coat of sunscreen on her face instead of makeup, and then she pulled her long auburn hair into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck. She slipped from the house half an hour later, a water bottle in her grip and her phone strapped to her upper arm in the elastic band holder.
Then she hurried to the bike shed of her huge apartment building, grabbed her bike, checked the tires, and slipped on her helmet as she pushed her bike to the edge of the street. The weight of the helmet increased her dull headache and she was tempted to go without the helmet. But the vision of her brother Tyler, a fireman, scolding her for being irresponsible, held her back.
Damn. Even without being present you manage to boss me around. She struck out her tongue, hoping he’d somehow telepathically notice it.
One of the things she loved about living in Los Angeles was the coastline. A brisk walk along the beach, or a trip on her bike to breathe fresh air. The wind blowing in her hair, the sun warming her skin, what more did a girl need to be happy?
A concrete path ran dozens of miles in either direction from where she currently lived. The perfect place to bike, run, or roller blade. Vivian grimaced at the thought of running. She’d resisted the attempts of not only her five brothers, but also her best friend Gwen to sell her on the joys of this sport. She could well do without it. Thank you very much. Vivian preferred tooling around the coastline on her bike.
She slipped her leg across the middle bar and set off. The rhythm of moving the pedals soon took her mind off the awful revelations in the Los Angeles County Courthouse this past week. Salty air wafted into her nostrils and she sneezed. Instead of the expected agonizing thump in her head, she noticed a short, stabbing pain. Thank God, the migraine is receding. It would soon be gone altogether.
In the afternoon, she wanted to drop by her best friend Gwen’s house, and then there was a pile of bills waiting for her back home. Vivian sighed. She was tired of being in debt. Her job as court reporter paid reasonably well, but life in Los Angeles was expensive and she still had huge student loans to pay back.
She’d studied journalism – only to find out that investigative reporters weren’t exactly sought after. She’d done measly paid stunts as a freelancer for several tiny newspapers until she’d worked for her cousin Trevor Armstrong, a successful divorce lawyer, during summer break. He’d told her about the urgent need for court reporters.
She’d always been a fast typist and thanks to her journalism degree, the required exams to become a court reporter had taken only one year of extra studies. In the beginning, she’d loved the job.
Court reporters got to hear firsthand all those exciting cases others heard in the news about. But the novelty soon wore off and the negativity enveloping the court scene was taking a toll on her. About a year ago the migraines had started.
And here I am, thinking about my job again. She sighed and turned her attention to the Pacific Ocean spread out to her right. People were filling up the beach on this beautiful Saturday morning and she tucked away the thought of going for a swim later.
First, she’d visit Gwen, maybe pay a few bills, and then she could swim or wander along the wet sand for a few hours before the sun went down. As a plan for the day, it wasn’t nearly as productive as she normally liked, but she needed a truly stress-free day to balance out the fact that Monday would be coming and she would once again be sitting around the courthouse. Ugh! I need to change my life and do something else. But what?
Vivian was deep in thoughts about her future as she dashed around a sharp corner when something – or rather someone – crashed into her front tire.
Her bike twisted to the side, and she seemed to be able to see herself as the events unfurled in slow motion. She held onto the handlebars for dear life and landed on her right hip, her feet tightly anchored on the pedals of her bike. Finally those love handles around her bottom proved useful. Even if it was only to cushion a fall.
A few shocking seconds later Vivian re-organized herself and found all her limbs working just fine, save for a dull pain in her butt. She ignored it and struggled to stand up, as the sounds of a deep male voice reached her and reverberated throughout her body.
“Stupid bitch! Don’t you have eyes in your head?” An extraordinarily fine specimen of man with dark tousled hair and a closely trimmed beard was laying on the concrete path.
Vivian’s eyes followed the line of his jaw to his upper lip – that had an enticing pit in the middle, despite the fact that it was tightly pressed on the lower lip. Pain and irritation radiated from his mouth, and his squinted brown eyes narrowed beneath thick, cuspidate, and dark eyebrows.
The man was dressed in a dark blue tank top and running shorts, exposing his well-sculpt
ed arms and legs. Something stirred way down in her belly. He was one of the most handsome, virile men she’d met in a long time. Off course I have to make the worst kind of introduction possible. Well done, Viv.
Vivian untangled her legs from the bike and laid it down before walking over to check the hottie for possible injuries. Several people passed them, but no one stopped to help. That’s California for you! Everyone’s so busy they don’t have time to worry about anyone but themself.
“Hey! Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you coming,” Vivian said and crouched beside him. For some inexplicable reason, her pulse ratcheted up a notch the moment he opened his eyes and looked at her. Warm brown with tiny black spots in them. The pain she’d seen etched in his mouth, was reflected in his eyes.
Nevertheless, the magic behind the hypnotic orbs was irresistible and Vivian lean forward to – just in time she caught herself committing yet another stupid move and stopped midway.
“I’m fine, but no thanks to you,” the man answered with a growl. Then he attempted to straighten his leg and grimaced in pain.
Arrogant bastard. Too proud to admit he needs help. She recognized that macho behavior from her five brothers, who’d rather gnaw their own leg off than admit they were in pain.
“Really? Then it shouldn’t be a problem to stand up.” Vivian mustered her most sarcastic voice. The one she would use when her brothers wanted to boss her around. She loved her brothers dearly – all five of them – but they had the tendency to be a pain in the butt.
The handsome man lying on the ground scowled at her and pushed himself to a sitting position. Vivian couldn’t help but notice his well-sculpted biceps ending in broad shoulders, a powerful neck – don’t look at his eyes again – and even more bulging pectorals. Ohmygod! I’m doing this only to make sure he’s okay. Her eyes traveled down his torso, drooling over the six-pack barely hidden by his skin tight running shirt. The sight of his firm buttocks and the thick powerful thighs, stirred fluttering butterflies deep down in her belly.
“Done with your ogling, lady?” The man on the ground asked and she wanted to punch and kiss him at the same time. Heat shot to her face and made her ears burn.
“I’ve just been checking that you’re not wounded. And for the record, I’ve seen better. Way better.” That was a lie. Never had she had such a visceral reaction to a man. And with her penchant for trouble it had to be an arrogant bastard.
Vivian raised her eyes to his face again. Big mistake. His brown eyes held her hostage and the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips clearly conveyed he didn’t believe a single word she said. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms and kiss him senseless. Hey where did that thought come from? I’m not that kind of girl.
Beneath his tan face, he’d turned pale, which snapped her back to reality. This gorgeous man was in pain because she’d run him over.
“Look, can I do something for you?” she asked on a sigh.
“Sure,” he murmured, seduction twinkling in his eyes, “but that would be better done in private.”
Vivian’s head snapped up. Asshole.
Chapter 2
Rock Martens glanced up at the breathtaking woman who’d just crashed into him and tried to control both his response to the pain radiating up his leg, and his body’s reaction to seeing her crouched next to him.
He’d been angry with her – until he’d stared into her electric blue eyes. Wow! Anger, pain and lust fought for dominance with a tiny bit of shame. He’d been an asshole to her. Rightfully so. Instead of admitting her guilt, she’d acted … feisty. Adorable! No, not the least bit adorable. She might be gorgeous and her curvaceous hips might do crazy things to his libido, but she was just another irresponsible brat.
Yes, she was one of those disaster-prone hip girls speeding along the coast on their expensive bikes without concern for anyone else besides themselves. He’d bet she was some entitled C-list actress believing the world owed her something.
The burning pain in his ankle reminded him of his predicament. There was no way it would support his weight. But he tried to get up anyways.
“Ouch!”
Her expression changed from annoyance to concern, and her voice became soft. “I’m so sorry. Do think you could get up if I helped you?”
He stared with wide open eyes into her sweet face and fought the urge to cup it between his palms and kiss her seductive mouth.
“You okay?” she asked again, interrupting his dreams of kissing her.
“More or less. But we need to get off the pavement,” he told her.
“Here, maybe you can lean on me and then you won’t have to put any weight on your leg,” the young woman said and her genuine smile warmed his insides. As did the prospect of getting close to her curvaceous body.
The next moment, she wrapped an arm around his chest, snaking it beneath his arm and trying to lift him up. Her fresh, minty scent with a hint of sweat sent his sex hormones into overdrive.
“Wait,” he said, savoring the nearness of her soft body. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m at least double your weight.”
She wasn’t one of those awful rail-thin women who chased size zero, but at around five feet five she couldn’t weigh more than one hundred thirty pounds. He dwarfed her with his six foot four inch frame and two hundred twenty pounds of hard-earned muscle.
After another glance into her electric blue eyes, he re-arranged her arm and used his free hand and his good leg to push himself up to a partial standing position. His bad ankle throbbed in time to his heartbeat and he gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain.
“There’s a bench over there,” the girl pointed out. “Do you think you can make it?”
In your arms I can make anything. Gorgeous. He bit his tongue and answered instead, “If I can lean on you.”
“Sure,” she said with the sweetest smile. “My name is Vivian, by the way.”
“Rock,” he said. She abruptly stopped and the sudden movement sent searing pain into his system. “My name. It’s Rock.”
“Oh! I thought that was what you said, but then again, I thought maybe I heard you wrong,” Vivian answered with the cutest red cheeks he’d ever seen.
Rock hid his grin at her rambling words. He’d had enough women fawning over him to know the signs. And this one had definitely checked him out. He could smell her attraction. He slowly licked his lips, giving himself a secret thumbs-up when her eyes went dark and she did the same. That girl was ripe.
They reached the bench and he sat down, taking a few deep breaths before he bent to the task of examining his ankle. It had swelled to almost double its normal size. As much as he wanted to, he knew better than to remove the constricting footwear. At least, not until he could figure out how to get medical help.
“You need to see a doctor, or maybe even go to the hospital.” Vivian had taken the seat besides him and as he looked over, he glanced straight onto her décolleté. She’d opened the zipper of her cycling top about four inches, just enough to lure his glance into following the soft line of her breasts molded by the tight stretch material. Another of his body parts was about to swell to at least double its size.
“Now you’re ogling,” she quipped.
“I wasn’t. Thanks to you running me over I have to focus on keeping the pain at bay.”
“And the swelling,” she said with pursed lips.
The rushing in his ears indicated Rock was flushing like a schoolboy. He preferred to ignore her remark and busied himself with untying and tying his shoes. Anything to keep his hands and mind busy.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Vivian broke the silence.
“I’m not sure they’ll be able to drive on this path.” Rock had parked his car about three miles away, in one of the huge parking lots adjacent to the beach, before taking off for his daily run. He was training for a charity triathlon two months from now. As three-times Iron Man Hawaii World Champion, he’d been anticipated to be the crowd puller for t
he event.
Vivian nodded and then looked down the coastline from the direction she’d just come. “My car is back there, but it’s several miles away.” Then she brightened. “There’s an urgent care facility about a quarter of a mile that direction.” She pointed up the cross street just behind them.
Rock followed her tapered finger with his gaze, and bit back his sharp retort. Her suggestion was ridiculous.
“You may have noticed that I’m not up to walking a lot.” It came out much more condescending than he’d intended. Gosh, the woman triggered his defenses.
A shadow of hurt or guilt crossed her face and he wanted to take his words back and tell her it was okay. Like hell! What was happening with him? Since when did he care about the emotions of one of Hollywood’s superficial playgirls?
“I did notice. And I already said I’m sorry.” She spat the words at him and the gleam in her eyes made her even more attractive. Then she pointed to her bike. “Lucky for you, my bike is fine. You can sit on the bike and I’ll push you to the urgent care facility.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Rock said, shaking his head. But the moment he locked eyes with her, her entire appearance softened as if she wanted to morph into him, and his body took notice. That’s an excellent idea. You’ll get up close and personal. Appreciating those luscious curves.
“Do you have a better idea?” Like him, she oscillated between anger and attraction.
If he’d met her under different circumstances, he’d charm her into his bed. But right now he had more serious problems. The impending triathlon was the most important event of the year for his charity foundation Rock Solid. It drew a ton of publicity for the foundation and the funds raised during this single event were vital to implement his plans for building a state-of-the art rehab center. Without him as star attraction, he might as well kick the entire event into the gutter.
“I don’t, but you can’t push me on that bike. Thanks, but no thanks,” Rock said and pushed himself to stand on one leg. Ouch. Hopping along until he reached the next street was out of the question.