Waiting for Sunrise: Baytown Boys Series

by Maryann Jordan

  Waiting for Sunrise

  Baytown Boys Series

  Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author Information

  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

  30. Two Weeks Later

  31. Six Months Later

  Waiting for Sunrise (Baytown Boys)

  Copyright 2018 Maryann Jordan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Becky McGraw

  Editor: Shannon Brandee Eversoll

  Proofreader: Myckel Anne Phillips

  ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-22-4

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice.

  My best friend, Tammie, who for over twenty years has been with me through thick and thin. You’ve filled the role of confidant, supporter, and sister.

  My other best friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader and my Marketing PA, but friend. I do not know what I would do without you in my life.

  My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise, Sandi, Barbara, Jennifer, Danielle, Tracey, Lynn, Stracey, and Jamila for being my beta girls who love alphas!

  Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making all my books as well written as it can be.

  My street team, Jordan Jewels, you all are amazing! You volunteer your time to promote my books and I cannot thank you enough! I hope you will stay with me, because I have lots more stories inside, just waiting to be written!

  My Personal Assistant Barbara Martoncik keeps me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only her assistance, but her friendship.

  Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.

  Author Information

  USA Today Bestselling and Award Winning Author

  I am an avid reader of romance novels, often joking that I cut my teeth on the historical romances. I have been reading and reviewing for years. In 2013, I finally gave into the characters in my head, screaming for their story to be told. From these musings, my first novel, Emma’s Home, The Fairfield Series was born.

  I was a high school counselor having worked in education for thirty years. I live in Virginia, having also lived in four states and two foreign countries. I have been married to a wonderfully patient man for thirty-seven years. When writing, my dog or one of my four cats can generally be found in the same room if not on my lap.

  Please take the time to leave a review of this book.

  Feel free to contact me, especially if you enjoyed my book. I love to hear from readers!

  Facebook

  Email

  Website

  When I was counseling in a high school, I had a young woman whose story was similar to the one in this novel. It broke my heart and I was determined to do what I could to assist. I am pleased to say that for my student, like the young Brittany in this book, there was a happy ending. So, for all the young people who need to know that it is okay to dream, this is for you.

  1

  Head down, eyes scanning the nursing notes in her hand, Belle Gunn rushed around a corner in Careway Nursing Home where she worked. Her body slammed into something hard and she screamed, her arms flung wide, windmilling in an attempt to keep her balance. Unsuccessful, she flailed to the side, hitting her head against the wall. Landing awkwardly, the brunt of her fall was taken on her left wrist, causing a sharp pain. Shattered glass fell in a shower, covering the tile all around her.

  “Aughh, shit,” she cried out, lying awkwardly on the floor, shock reverberating through her.

  “Fuck!” a deep voice sounded from above.

  Lights flickered behind her tightly squeezed eyes. Pain radiated from her hand up to her shoulder and her forehead felt as though she had been hit with a hammer. Unable to process what had happened, she instinctively used her other hand to push herself upward.

  The clattering of heavy boots on metal, followed by the sound of crunching glass, met her ears. “Don’t move!”

  She did not need to open her eyes to see who bellowed the order. Him. Oh, no. I can’t believe it’s him.

  One Month Earlier

  Belle tossed back the covers and climbed from her bed. Grabbing a light blue robe from the bedpost, she wrapped it around her and tied it at the waist. Walking over to the window, her bare toes digging into the soft carpet, she pulled open the blinds and settled on the strategically placed padded bench. She had found the bench at a yard sale, seeing the possibilities in the sturdy but worn piece of furniture. Sanding, then staining, she brought out the beauty of the wood, finally topping it with a thick, green cushion bought at a second-hand store. It fit perfectly under the east-facing window in her bedroom.

  Leaning back against the yellow toss pillow placed next to the wall, she yawned as she stretched her arms above her head. Twisting, she placed her elbows on the narrow windowsill and stared out into the dark.

  Within a few minutes, the sky began to turn a lighter blue over the trees. She watched as the sky morphed from night to daylight, the sunrise kissing the day. Her view was not the best so, sometimes, on a day off from work, she would get in her old car and drive to the coast to watch the sun rise over the ocean. But, for most days, watching the dawn from her little house in the mobile home park had to suffice.

  “Another day started, Grandma,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to the heavens as a slight smile curved her lips.

  Standing, she stretched again before walking over to make the bed. The dark green comforter with little yellow flowers was tugged over the sheets and she fluffed the yellow toss pillows before placing them at
the headboard.

  Looking at the clock on the nightstand, she knew she needed to hurry if she wanted to have time to study before leaving for the party. Heading into the bathroom, she showered, pulled her hair back with a ribbon, and with only a tinted moisturizer, a swipe of mascara, and lips gloss, she was ready for her day.

  Several minutes later, with a cup of coffee and bowl of oatmeal, she settled at the table, her nursing books and notes spread out before her.

  She had been working for years at Careway Nursing Home, a place she absolutely loved to be, first, as a teen volunteer, and then, once earning her CNA, as a nursing assistant. Working full time, she attended the Eastern Shore Community College at night, and had already earned her Associates Degree with an LPN. Continuing her studies, both online and at the Community College, she was close to earning her RN.

  Dream…then work as hard as you can to make that dream come true. The words from her grandmother came back to her as a smile slid across her lips.

  She had friends in Baytown, but as her studies increased—on top of her work—her chance to socialize decreased. Glad that there was a beach party to attend today, she was looking forward to the chance to be with all her friends again.

  Taking another bite of oatmeal, she looked back down at her notes. This…this is leading to my dream. From the first moment she had stepped foot in Careway and had watched the nurses as they went about their duties, she had decided that was her goal. And each step led to wanting more, so, the studying continued.

  Steady work, steady school. Not overly exciting, but steady.

  Recently, someone had encroached upon her simple life, throwing her focus off kilter, and he did not even know her name. She knew his though…Hunter Simmons. He was the newcomer to town and, getting a job with the nursing home as a handyman, meant she saw him every day.

  The first day she had seen him at work, her feet had stumbled as she walked down the hall. He was bending over, repainting the baseboards along the main hall where the walkers and wheelchairs often bumped and scuffed the paint. Unable to see his face at first, she noted his dark hair, closely cropped on the sides and the long hair on top pulled back in a ponytail. His upper body muscles strained against the navy blue T-shirt he wore, the edge of a tattoo peeking from the sleeve.

  Nearing him, she was unable to drag her eyes away as he stood to his full height. He towered over her as he stretched his back, moving his head from side to side to remove the kinks. His jaw was square and, with his eyes closed, she took the opportunity to drop her eyes lower, observing his trim waist and thick thighs encased in the blue jeans he was allowed to wear.

  As though they had a will of their own, her feet moved slower and her eyes dragged back up his body, landing on his face. Scruffy beard. Firm jaw. And piercing, blue eyes. Eyes that were staring back at her.

  A slight gasp escaped her and she staggered for a step before righting herself, hurrying on down the hall. Feeling foolish, she felt the burn of his stare on her back. She darted into one of the rooms, quickly ducking out of his sight.

  It did not take long to hear the gossip about the new hire. No one knew much about him, but the other nurses and aides, regardless of their age, smiled and winked as they passed him in the hall. At least, all the single ones did… hell, half the married ones did as well.

  For Belle, he may have made her heart race and her feet trip, but she knew he would never be interested in her. And, she reminded herself that her life goal had no room for a distraction. Especially a tall, muscular, handsome, blue-eyed, mysterious man.

  For a month, she had ducked out of his way, passing him in the hall with nothing more than a polite nod in his direction, and had managed to skirt around him whenever possible. Of course, considering they had the same group of friends since he came to Baytown, it made avoiding him more difficult. But, usually, he immersed himself in conversations with the guys, giving her the opportunity to stare at him from a distance.

  Looking back at her watch, she closed her books and took her long-finished oatmeal bowl to the sink. Running back into the bedroom, she slid out of her robe and into a floral sundress. She smiled, twirling in front of the mirror, loving the way the material swished around her thighs. Sucking in her stomach slightly, she knew the day would be full of good food, as well as good friends. Oh, well, I’ll eat light tomorrow.

  Belle walked through the tiny kitchen of the beach house belonging to Mitch and Tori Evans, two of her close friends. The old fishing cabin had been willed to Mitch by his grandfather and, now, it hosted many gatherings near the Chesapeake Bay. Mitch, the Police Chief, and Tori, owner of The Sea Glass Inn, were outside near the grill.

  Darting into the bathroom, she washed her hands at the small sink, hearing the party in full swing through the tiny, open window. The blinds moved slightly with the breeze and her ears perked up as she heard a man call out. Leaning closer, she peeked through the blinds, ignoring the little voice in her head reminding her that eavesdropping was rude.

  “Glad you could make it, man!” Zac Hamilton called.

  She watched as Hunter walked over to Zac, nodding his thanks as he accepted the proffered beer in Zac’s hand. Looking around the crowd of people milling about, he took a long swig before turning back to Zac.

  Zac grinned, clapping him on the shoulder and said, “Just take a load off and enjoy the sunshine, Hunter. Baytown Boys don’t bite…or force conversation.”

  Chuckling, Hunter grinned. As she continued to peek through the blinds she was struck by the sheer beauty of his rare smile.

  She knew he and Zac had become friends in the Navy, both assigned to the same ship. They appeared to be opposite in personalities though—Zac never met a stranger he could not call a friend, while Hunter rarely spoke. She also knew Hunter had been born in Tennessee but she never heard anyone mention his family. He walked to the side of the deck and she leaned forward, keeping him in her sight as he spoke.

  “Still can’t get used to hearing the words Baytown Boys. I expect to see a little league logo on the back of your shirts.”

  Zac threw his head back in laughter. “You wouldn’t be too far wrong with that. The title was given to us when we were kids and always played together. Once we hit middle school and played ball, it stuck all the way through graduation.”

  Nodding, he took another swig of beer. Indicating the group with a swirl of the bottle in his hand, he asked, “All y’all join up?”

  “Yeah,” Zac said. “Mitch and Grant joined the Army and met Lance when they were with the military police. Brogan and Aiden joined the Marines. Callan is still in the Coast Guard, now stationed here. Gareth came later…he was in the Air Force. Ginny moved here a couple of years ago…she was also Army MP. You know Jason, of course.”

  Hearing a noise, Belle observed Madelyn, Zac’s wife, walk up to them, her arm slipping around Zac’s waist as she smiled her greeting to Hunter. He nodded in return and then moved further down the deck, out of her sight.

  Just then, a knock on the bathroom door jolted her, and she realized how long she had been in the room. It was the only toilet in the cabin and she threw open the door and breezed out, smiling at Katelyn as though she had only been in there a moment. Feeling her face heat with blush, she hurried through the kitchen, chastising herself for eavesdropping. What the hell is wrong with me? Standing at the door leading outside, she sucked in a fortifying breath and walked outside.

  Hunter had listened carefully to Zac reciting the residents’ military service, causing him to think back on their own unlikely friendship as he headed towards the grill, giving Zac and Madelyn a moment of privacy. Zac, always smiling, had taken to his taciturn personality and the two clicked. How? He could never figure that out, but he was glad for Zac’s friendship. He and Jason made a little more sense, since they were both mechanics.

  “Hunter,” Mitch called out. “Good to see you.”

  He watched as Mitch expertly flipped the hamburgers, while also keeping an eye on his wife, Tori, h
olding their baby son, and carrying on a conversation with his co-workers. Grant Wilder, Lance Greene, and Ginny MacFarlane, three other police officers for Baytown, stood with him, drinking beer and shooting the shit as their boss manned the grill.

  Hearing a cheer from the beach, his gaze drifted over, seeing Brogan and Aiden MacFarlane with a group playing beach volleyball. Several women played as well or lounged against the log seats around a fire pit. He recognized some of their wives, Jillian Wilder and Tori Evans, who was bouncing her son on her lap. Katelyn and Gareth Harrison walked out onto the deck, she carrying napkins and utensils while his hands were full of platters to set on the groaning picnic table.

  “You settled in yet?” Grant asked, drawing his attention back to the people at the grill.

  Nodding, he replied, “Yep. Got my camper. It’s all I need right now.”

  “You at a campground?” Lance asked. “I’ve got a little piece of land, beachfront, south of town, and you’re more than welcome to park it there.”

  “Brogan and I also have room on our land,” Ginny offered, smiling at him. “We’re building a house, but still have room for your camper if you want.” Her dark brown hair, usually pulled back in a regulation bun, was hanging around her shoulders and, he had to admit, the look was striking with her all-American vibe. Finding out she had been military police in Afghanistan only added to her allure and he knew her husband, Brogan, a former Marine, knew just how lucky he was.