by Sandra Owens
JUST JENNY
Blue Ridge Valley – Book One
Sandra Owens
Contents
Also by Sandra Owens
Praise for Sandra’s Books
Newsletter Info
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Coming Soon…
Acknowledgments
About Sandra
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2018 Sandra Owens All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
Published by Sandra Owens
Print ISBN: 978-0-9997864-0-6
E-book ISBN: 978-0-9997864-1-3
Cover design by Kim Killion
Edits by: Jennie Conway and Ella Sheridan
Printed in the United States of America
Just Jenny is dedicated to all the romance readers in the world who believe in happily ever afters.
Also by Sandra Owens
~ Aces & Eights Series ~
Jack of Hearts
King of Clubs
Ace of Spades
Queen of Diamonds
~ K2 Team Series ~
Crazy for Her
Someone Like Her
Falling for Her
Lost in Her
Only Her
~ Regency Books ~
The Dukes Obsession
The Training of a Marquess
The Letter
Praise for Sandra’s Books
The Blue Ridge Valley series is Sandra Owens at her finest. Filled with Southern charm and a dash of humor, she had me churning through the pages. I laughed. I cried. This series has it all.
~ Heather Burch, bestselling author of ONE LAVENDER RIBBON
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Take everything you love about a Sandra Owens novel—the dry humor, the hot alpha heroes—and transplant them into a quirky small town, and you have the Blue Ridge Valley Series. Charming, funny, and sexy.
~ Jenny Holiday, USA Today bestselling author
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Snappy dialog, endearing characters, and a delightful plot . . . I loved, loved, loved Just Jenny!
~ Barbara Longley, #1 Bestselling author
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Welcome to Blue Ridge Valley . . . A town you’ll want to visit and never leave. You’ll fall in love with the quirky residents who will make you laugh, and you’ll cry tears for Jenny and Dylan—two hearts in need of healing—as they find forgiveness and love.
~Miranda Liasson, Bestselling author of the Mirror Lake series
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JUST JENNY, set in the picturesque Blue Ridge Valley, is just an all-around good time. It’s got its share of colorful characters, juicy secrets, nosy neighbors, apple pie moonshine, and a romance that will touch your heart. Small town living at its best you don’t want to miss.
~Tamra Baumann, Bestselling author
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"If you are a fan of this author or enjoy romantic suspense or just love your heroes to be swoon-worthy, Jack of Hearts is highly recommended."
~Harlequin Junkie Top Pick
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"A heated romance is at the forefront of this novel, backed by a compelling story that will lure readers into Madison and Alex's world."
~Publishers Weekly
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"I love this new series! It's filled with ongoing suspense and tension, then sexy hot romance, and relatable people that you want to spend time with."
~Reading in Pajamas.
Newsletter Info
To sign up for Sandra’s Newsletter go to:
* * *
https://bit.ly/2FVUPKS
1
~ Jenny ~
“What was your car doing at Road Dogs this afternoon?”
I set the scotch neat in front of my boyfriend, although he wasn’t going to be for long if he kept up this jealous, where the hell were you thing he’d been dishing out lately. “I’m working here, Chad. Drink this and then go away.” Road Dogs was a biker bar. Not my kind of place, which he should know by now.
“Careful, Jenn.” He sucked half the drink down his throat, then swiped a hand across his mouth. “Ben said he saw your car there.”
“Then Ben’s wrong. Ever think of that?” I walked away before I decided to punch my soon-to-be ex in the nose. I poured two glasses of merlot for the couple at the end of the bar, making small talk with them while trying to ignore Chad. The jerk was going to get me fired if he didn’t leave. I’d known for a few weeks that our relationship was on its last legs, but I’d put off making a clean break.
Unless you wanted to make the forty-minute drive east to Asheville, North Carolina, Vincennes was the place to eat—and be seen—in my neck of the woods. You couldn’t beat Angelo’s Italian food, and if you wanted to hear the latest town gossip, you came to Vincennes. I loved working here, but Angelo hated drama. I’d told Chad that numerous times, but he didn’t seem to care.
Blue Ridge Valley was a small North Carolina town close to the Tennessee state line, and good paying jobs were scarce. Many of my classmates had moved to Asheville or other big cities in North or South Carolina offering better opportunities, but I’d landed a waitressing job at Vincennes, where the tips were good. As soon as I was of age, Angelo had put me behind the bar, a job I loved and didn’t want to lose. I was too close to reaching my goal to have it snatched away now.
“Another,” Chad said, pushing his glass to the end of the counter.
Not happening. I leaned my face close to his, keeping my voice low. “That was not me. Go home now. Or go find some other woman to annoy. I don’t really care which, but if you don’t leave, I’ll never speak to you again. And if you get me fired, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”
The two women sitting to his left—one of which I recognized as the head of our chamber of commerce—widened their eyes, and I realized I hadn’t kept my voice as low as I’d intended.
“Not something you should be saying in front of witnesses, Red.”
My gaze swung to the man who slid into the seat next to Chad, and I did a classic double take. He had to be a figment of my imagination. No man that drop-dead gorgeous would ever walk into a bar in my small mountain town without some kind of hot-guy alert lightin
g up the phones, announcing his arrival.
Stupid Chad took one look at the newcomer and apparently decided to lay his claim by grabbing my hand, bringing my fingers to his lips for a kiss. What a toad.
I almost told him off, but the lounge was busy, some people having a drink while waiting for their table, others eating their dinner at the long bar. If I said anything to make him mad, there’d be a scene, and that was the last thing I needed.
“I’ll be back when you get off, babe.”
“Don’t bother,” I said, and deciding the best thing to do was make myself scarce until he left, I headed for the kitchen.
“Jenn,” Chad called after me, but I kept going.
After loading up bread and salads for the two couples eating at the bar, I peeked out the oval window of the swinging door. Chad was gone. I let out a relieved breath.
He was a good-looking guy, and he’d been nice when we’d first started dating. That was two months ago, and sometime during the last few weeks he’d started acting like he owned me. He knew my plans, ones I wouldn’t change for any man. On our first date I’d made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship and why. We were only supposed to be having a little fun for a few months.
“I’m not looking for serious, either,” he’d said. “My focus right now is on my career, on building my client list.”
It had seemed the perfect setup. Someone fun to date until it was time to go. The fun had stopped, though, and since cavemen weren’t my thing, it was time to break things off with him. I didn’t doubt he’d be sitting outside my apartment when I got home, which would put him in a pissy mood. He’d been asking for a key to my place so he could wait for me in the comfort of my home, but I’d put him off each time he brought it up.
How did I get myself in these messes? It wasn’t the first time I’d made a poor choice when it came to men. Once I got rid of this one, I was going to swear off the creatures. For a while anyway. I mean, what girl who loves sex—which I did—could live without them forever?
I pushed the swinging door open with my butt while holding plates of salad and breadbaskets. Once my two couples had everything they needed, I turned to the stranger who hadn’t gotten any less hot in the few minutes I’d been away from the bar.
“What can I get you?”
Eyes the color of dark Tennessee whiskey met mine, rested there a few lingering seconds, then moved to the bottles lining the shelves. “I’ll have a Green Man.”
“Good choice.” Green Man was brewed at one of Ashville’s many microbreweries, and it was my favorite beer. Not that it meant anything. Liking the same beer was probably the only thing we had in common.
“No mug, Jenny,” he said when I pulled one from the small freezer under the bar.
I slid the opened bottle in front of him. “My friends call me Jenn.”
“He called you Jenn. I’ll call you Jenny.” One side of his mouth curved up. “Or Red.”
That lopsided smile of his curled my toes, my resolution to swear off men forgotten. And the way Jenny rolled off his tongue—soft and intimate, like there was no one in the room but him and me—almost had me licking my lips. I already liked him for not wanting to call me Jenn simply because Chad had. The man was scoring points without even trying.
He held out his hand. “I’m Dylan Conrad.”
And of course he would have a sexy name. I stared at that masculine hand with the blunt-tipped nails on the ends of his long fingers, thinking it would be a big mistake to touch him. With all the electricity sparking around us, we might ignite on contact, but he kept it there in the space between us. I glanced up to see him watching me, and the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was as if he could read me and was amused.
You’re being ridiculous, Jenn. It was only a hand he was offering, not his body, which was all hard lines and muscles. The second I put my hand in his, I almost jerked it away when some kind of weird spark actually did shoot up my arm.
I think he felt it, too, because his eyes widened for a millisecond. If I hadn’t been watching him, I’d have missed his reaction. His fingers curled over mine, his touch feeling so intimate and warm that for a moment the world around me faded away. I gave a little shake of my head, banishing any interest I might have in this man. My plans wouldn’t change, even for a man with whiskey-colored eyes and a lopsided grin.
“Nice to meet you, Dylan.” I pulled my hand away. Where had I heard his name? For the life of me, I couldn’t remember.
He sent me that killer smile again, and I had the urge to rub my chest, right over where my heart had decided to skip a beat or two. The man was decidedly dangerous if he could make my heart misbehave like that. The big question: did I want to encourage him? I almost laughed at myself. Obviously banishing him from my mind hadn’t worked if I was asking that. Brandy, one of the waitresses, brought out the dinners for my two couples, and I gratefully turned my attention to her.
“Thanks, hon,” I said, getting busy filling drink orders from the waitstaff. While I mixed and shook martinis, poured carafes of wine, and uncapped bottles of locally brewed beers, I could feel Dylan’s eyes on me. I couldn’t resist adding a little sway to my hips when I walked to the other end of the bar to take a drink order.
He had to be a tourist, so no harm in a little flirtation. Whatever might or might not happen, though, took second place to adding to my travel account.
As soon as I had a sufficient amount saved, I was taking off to see the world. It had been our dream, Natalie’s and mine, for as long as I could remember, and I had a promise to keep.
We’d grown up in the valley, but my twin and I had both had wanderlust. We’d gone to Greece, the trip a graduation present from our parents. The first week had been awesome. Then my world had changed forever. I bowed my head to clear it of memories of her. This wasn’t the time or place to fall apart.
“Ready for another one?” I asked Dylan, finally turning to him once I could speak without my voice quivering. And there went that damn smile that curled my toes. It occurred to me to wonder why a man as hot as him was on vacation alone. Lots of hikers passed through Blue Ridge Valley, so maybe he planned to hike the Appalachian Trail.
“I’m good, Red.” He pulled out a ten, sticking it under the empty bottle. “See you around.”
I couldn’t resist watching him walk away, my gaze mostly on his butt—and what a fine one it was. He was tall, lean in all the right places, and muscled everywhere a man should be. His hair was dark brown, cut close to his head. A good look on him. At the door he paused long enough to glance back and wink. Busted. He’d known I was eyeing him. My cheeks heated. I prayed he was too far away to notice my blush.
“That’s one fine specimen,” Brandy said, coming to stand next to me.
“Yeah, and he probably knows it.” Although I hadn’t got that impression, I was looking for faults. That one would do for a start. Hopefully he really was a tourist and I’d never see him again. The man would be entirely too easy to fall for.
2
~ Dylan ~
I chuckled as I walked to my car. I’d felt Jenny Girl’s eyes on my back and had stifled the urge to flex my ass cheeks for her viewing pleasure. If the women in this town were as pretty as the bartender, I was going to enjoy living here. Watching her was better than seeing the Energizer Bunny in action. She owned that bar and ran it like a well-oiled machine, making drinks and chatting up the customers without missing a beat. Well, chatting to everyone but me, which right there said she was too aware of me for her peace of mind.
Every time she shook a martini, her ponytail bounced against her back, and all I could think about was wrapping that long red tail around my hand and holding her still while I kissed her senseless. Yeah, parts of me long dead were coming back to life. I definitely intended to see her again.
If I had to guess, the asshole at the bar was her boyfriend, but maybe not for much longer. I hoped not. The dude needed to learn how to treat a woman. I’d
stood back for a few minutes, listening to them, and it had been all I could do not to say something. With any kind of luck, I’d run into him one day when I was on the job.
To get to know my new town, I drove around a little after I left Vincennes. The main street consisted of a mile of asphalt with shops on both sides. On the north side of the two lanes, a fast-moving creek wound its way behind the souvenir and mountain crafts stores. A few restaurants were scattered about; the ones on the creek side had outside seating in the back. In the summer you could get a burger or a mountain trout dinner while watching the tubers float by.
All information I’d learned from the town’s website after I’d been offered the job as Blue Ridge Valley’s chief of police. The photos posted on the site had called to me, the ones of laughing people drifting down a rushing creek on fat tubes, of sunsets over the mountains, and ones showing the brilliance of fall when the leaves had turned, dressing the trees in yellows, oranges, reds, and golds. Blue Ridge Valley had seemed like a place where I might find a bit of peace.
I’d already stopped by several of the businesses, introducing myself. Except for one biker bar and one honky-tonk joint, I hadn’t identified any other possible trouble spots. I’d visited both places, letting them know I had my eye on them.
The townspeople had created the perfect tourist destination. In the summer it was bikers with the low rumble of their Harleys cruising by, families renting cabins so they could explore the Blue Ridge Parkway and load up on useless souvenirs, and hikers wanting to walk parts of the Appalachian Trail or hike up to one of the many waterfalls in the area. Come fall, the leaf lookers took over, and in the winter the skiers and snowmobile enthusiasts flocked in when there was snow.