Secret Kiss

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Secret Kiss Page 1

by Melanie Shawn




  Secret Kiss

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  Copyright © 2015 Melanie Shawn

  Kobo 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 Violet Duke

  Copyedits by Mickey Reed Editing

  Proofreading Services by Tiesha Brunson, Raiza McDuffie, Jill Grabert Estes

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Rev. 1.0

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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

  Coming August 2015: Magic Kiss

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  ‡

  “I missed you so much!” a high-pitched voice rang as they stepped through the door.

  Looking up, Adam Dorsey saw a blur of long, dark hair running straight at him from across the bar. His cousin, Levi, opened his arms and caught his new bride, Shelby, as she launched herself into his waiting embrace. Her legs wrapped around her husband’s waist, and she planted a long, passionate kiss on his lips as if he were a sailor who’d been at sea for months.

  “Get a room!” one of the bar patrons bellowed.

  “I missed you, too,” Levi replied when he came up for air before diving right back into the deep end of the affection pool.

  Levi and Shelby were seriously taking newlywed PDA to the next level. In the two weeks since they’d been married, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. If The Newlywed Game had a category for most affectionate, those two would win hands down. It was great for them, but being the witness and the third wheel to their love shack displays? Not so great.

  As Adam waited for them to disentangle themselves, he checked his phone. Four missed calls. All from the same person. The person whose calls he wouldn’t be returning. The person who had single-handedly guaranteed that Adam would never again experience the kind of relationship Levi and his bride had.

  While putting his phone back in his pocket, he noticed that the newlywed contestants were still at it—that was his cue to go. Levi had given Adam a hand moving his weights, his couch, and his bed, which had arrived earlier that afternoon, into the small house he’d rented on the other side of town. Apparently, the saying was true—the few hours Levi had been away from Shelby had made the heart (and maybe some other parts) grow fonder.

  “Thanks again for helping me, Levi. I’ll see you guys later.” Adam turned to leave, hoping he could slip out undetected.

  “Adam, wait,” Shelby called out breathlessly just as he put his hand on the door.

  Damn. He’d been so close.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? We’d love to have you.” Sincerity filled her voice, which made Adam even happier that she was the woman who’d married his cousin.

  Adam might have no longer believed in true love and happily ever after for himself, but he wasn’t a complete relationship cynic. And even if he were, what Levi and Shelby had would have been difficult for even the harshest critic of love to deny. Those two were made for each other. If you were in the same room with them and blind as a bat, you could still see the sparks flying between them.

  “I appreciate that,” Adam replied. “The apartment is great. But, between the spotty Internet and noise from the bar, it’s not really a conducive work environment.”

  Adam had been staying above the bar his cousin owned, JT’s Roadhouse, for almost a month now. He’d sold an app he’d developed and then retired from his government job. Now, most of the work he did was on the computer. So the fact that the Internet connection dropped out constantly wasn’t only frustrating, it also hindered his ability to do his job. Not to mention the fact that the floors were so thin between the apartment and the bar that he could hear someone sneeze—so the talking, laughing, and general bar chatter were nearly impossible to tune out. Besides, Adam had always liked his privacy.

  “Okay. If you’re sure.” Shelby didn’t seem convinced. “But the place is yours anytime. Our casa es su casa.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you guys later.” Adam lifted his hand to wave as he stepped out into the fresh mountain air. Inhaling deeply, he took a moment to appreciate the scent.

  He found himself doing that a lot recently. Taking the time to stop and smell the roses. Or, in this case, the pine trees. In the past, he’d always lost himself in his work—whether it was his eight years in the military or his six years as a private contractor.

  So much had changed in the last six months of his life—not only professionally, like when he’d received seven figures for his app, but also (and probably more importantly) personally. When, in one day, everything he’d believed in had disappeared. Turned out to be a lie. In the span of one fifteen-minute conversation, he’d had to face the fact that the last decade of his life had been a practice in deception.

  Since that day, he’d felt restless, unsettled.

  It was part of the reason why he was staying in Hope Falls now. A month ago, he’d received a call from his cousin Levi when Levi’s father, Adam’s uncle Charlie, had shown up unexpectedly after almost twenty years with no contact. Charlie had a checkered past filled with scams, so of course, Levi had been wary of his father’s sudden appearance.

  After hearing Levi’s voicemail, Adam had hopped on the first flight to California. As it turned out, Charlie was on the up-and-up. And even if he hadn’t been, Levi was a grown man who could take care of himself. All of the information Adam collected could have easily been shared via phone or e-mail. But for some reason, Adam had found himself on a plane.

  He had nothing back home and had been drawn to a fresh start.

  As he opened the door to his SUV, he climbed in and felt his phone, once again, buzz in his pocket. He didn’t even bother checking to see who it was. On instinct, he silenced the phone. Would he have to deal with the person on the other end one day? Yes. Was today that day? Hell no.

  He turned his wheel and headed down the road. A sense of rightness and nostalgia welled up inside him; the same sense that welled up every time he thought about putting roots down. The nostalgia shocked him. He’d been to Hope Falls only once as a child when he and his mother were on their way to Las V
egas. They’d stopped by her brother JT’s place, the uncle Levi had bought the bar from. At the time, he’d thought they’d just been visiting, but as an adult, he realized that his mom had “visited” to ask his uncle for money. He’d spent a grand total of two days there when he was six. But somehow, those two days had left an unshakable impression on his psyche.

  He’d never forgotten Main Street, the people who lived there, the colorful awnings of the storefronts, or the creaking sound of the planks beneath his feet as he’d walked on the wooden sidewalks that lined the downtown area. The distinctive smell of the pine trees mixed with the earthy scent of the wilderness the town was tucked into was permanently imprinted in his mind. As a child, he’d felt like he was in the Old West when he’d arrived in Hope Falls. He remembered vivid scenarios in his adolescent imagination of shootouts between “good guys” and “bad guys” playing out on the road that ran through the heart of the town.

  Now, as an adult, he no longer had visions of cowboy showdowns, but he still held a certain sense of wonder being there. It was as if this small town had been hermetically sealed from the rest of the world—a world Adam had seen the worst parts of. A world he needed a break from.

  Since arriving a month ago, Adam had kept finding reasons to stay. At first, he’d hung around because his uncle had suddenly popped up in town, trying to reunite with Levi after decades of having been estranged. Then Levi’s new bride had had some trouble Adam had helped look into. Once that’d been resolved, he’d stayed for Levi and Shelby’s wedding. And at the wedding, he’d been offered a contract by Mike Gowan, a former congressman who had moved to Hope Falls when he’d met and married one of the town’s residents, Nikki Maguire.

  Together, Mike and Nikki had started a nonprofit geared towards after-school programs for underprivileged kids. Latch Key to Success was thriving, but it continued to have issues with “bugs” in its system. From his preliminary diagnoses of the project, Adam had surmised that the programmers who’d worked on the app hadn’t had a grasp on the scope of what Mike and Nikki had envisioned.

  Adam could’ve easily helped remotely from his Virginia residence, but the thought of going back to his sterile apartment—which looked like he’d just moved in even though he’d been living there for the past six years—held no appeal.

  None whatsoever.

  As he drove down Main Street at just past midnight, a calm washed over him from head to toe. The storefront windows were all darkened. The only light illuminating the area came from twinkle lights that were strung between each lamppost. This was definitely not a late-night community, so there wasn’t another person in sight. After ten p.m., the only establishment open was his cousin’s bar.

  At thirty-four years old, Adam was over the nightlife scene. Not that he’d ever been under it. Even in his late teens and early twenties, when he’d been single and stationed overseas in the Army, his fellow soldiers would hit the town for nights of debauchery and indulgence while he’d stayed on base. He’d always been more comfortable in front of his computer than around people. Well, until he’d met…

  No. He wasn’t going to go there. That chapter of his life was over. Though it felt more like an entire book than just a chapter. A book filled with confusion, deceit, and betrayal. But it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, chapter or book, it was closed.

  As he pulled into his narrow, paved driveway, his headlights shining on the modest cabin he would be calling home for the next six months, Adam took another deep breath. This was his chance for a fresh start. No complications. No lies. No secrets.

  *

  “Shoot! Where is it?” Jane Marshall frantically searched her desk as she mumbled under her breath, which caused the mud mask she’d forgotten she’d applied to her face an hour ago to crack around her mouth.

  She’d been waiting up for this call, and now, she couldn’t find her phone. Seriously?! Why hadn’t she watched a little TV like she normally did on Sunday nights while awaiting her weekly check-in call? Why hadn’t she read one of her self-help books? Why had she decided to catch up on work, which, for her, was the equivalent of falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland?

  The answer to that was easy, even if Jane didn’t want to admit it. Tomorrow was the first day a certain dark-haired, light-eyed, drool-worthy consultant would be sharing an office with her. Not next door to her. Not down the hall. Nope. The man who had been starring in her nighttime—and daytime—fantasies since she’d first laid eyes on him three weeks ago was going to be inhabiting the same office space with her.

  Yesterday, when she’d stopped by the office to pick up some files to go over this weekend and Nikki, her boss, had informed her of this, her first response had been a fairly natural one.

  “Wait…what?!”

  Nikki had smiled a smile that, despite the fact that Jane had been accused more than once of not picking up on social cues, she’d easily deciphered as amusement.

  Nikki had gone on to explain that there was no extra room in their limited office space. This was only partly true. When they’d leased the space a year ago and moved the headquarters of Latch Key to Success to Hope Falls, they’d started out with one substantial shared space and four smaller offices. But Nikki and Mike had remodeled to create larger, more open offices for each of them, which left Jane out in front in the spacious common area.

  They had made it clear that they didn’t consider her a secretary and she was only in the front area because of the layout. Not that she cared about what her title was. When she had started working for Mike as an intern on his campaign eight years ago, she’d done so because she believed in him and what he stood for. Yes, politics had always interested her, but she’d gravitated towards the young congressman because he inspired her. Over the years, Mike hadn’t let the game of politics corrupt him. If anything, he’d dug his heels in even more, rooting himself further in his values and convictions.

  So, when he’d decided to retire from politics and focus all of his energy and resources into his nonprofits and charities, it was a no-brainer that Jane would follow him. The fact that he’d decided to move to a picturesque town nestled in the Sierra Nevadas was just a bonus. At least, it was for her.

  “Ahh! Found you!” Jane exclaimed as she located her buzzing iPhone. She swiped her finger across the screen to answer the call, lifted the phone to her ear and exclaimed happily, “Hi!”

  Her grandmother’s voice came loudly through the speaker. “Hello? Jane?”

  “Hi, Nana. It’s me,” Jane confirmed to her hard-of-hearing grandma, who refused to get a hearing aid.

  “Jane? Bunny? Is that you? I can barely hear you.”

  “Yes, Nana. It’s me,” Jane spoke louder. “How are you?”

  Since Jane had moved to California ten years ago, every Monday morning (East Coast time), her grandparents would call to check in. The older they got, the earlier the calls got. They used to wake up at five a.m. Now, they were usually up by four a.m. So, nowadays Jane didn’t even go to bed, she simply stayed up to wait for the call.

  “Oh, I’m doing good, bunny. How are you? Your papa is worried about you, you know.”

  “I know. But tell him I’m doing fine, Nana.” Jane knew that both of her grandparents were worried about her, and she hated it.

  “Tell him what?” her nana asked.

  “That I’m fine,” Jane said, her voice rising in hopes that her nana could hear her. “Tell him I’m fine.”

  “What?” her grandmother asked.

  In the background, she heard her grandpa shout, “She said she’s fine, Dolores. I can hear her from across the room.”

  “You can?!” Her nana sounded genuinely surprised.

  Jane smiled as warmth spread through her. She could picture her grandparents sitting in the front room of their small condo, which sat on a lush, green golf course. Clear as day, she could see her papa in his reading chair, a newspaper on his lap, and her nana on the couch next to their landline, curlers still in her hair from when she’d s
et them the night before, in her housecoat, which was her fancy name for robe.

  She missed her grandparents terribly. They were the only parents she’d ever known. When she was six, her parents were killed in a plane crash, and her paternal grandparents had stepped up and taken her in. Her grandfather had retired shortly after she’d gone to live with them, and while she’d been growing up, they had showered her with love and attention.

  She’d never wanted for anything. Well, except friends her own age. In sixth grade, her grandma had taken her out of public school and hired a private tutor to homeschool her at a school counselor’s suggestion. Jane had been so far advanced in her studies that her teachers were having a difficult time challenging her. She remembered finishing assignments in minutes, while it would take her classmates all day.

  Hindsight being twenty-twenty, Jane had to agree with her grandparents’ decision on an academic level. She’d graduated high school at age fifteen. Had her bachelor’s degree by seventeen and her master’s by twenty. The only drawback was that, socially, she’d always felt out of place, and when she’d inevitably found herself in social situations, she’d felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.

  “Yes, I can hear her. Ask her if she’s changed her oil,” her grandpa yelled loudly.

  Last week, he’d told her that she needed to get her oil changed—how he knew that when he was in Florida and she was in California, she had no idea. But she had done it. Because, when Walter Marshall spoke, if you were smart, you listened.

  “Yes, Papa! I did!” Jane yelled so that her grandpa could hear her.

  “Good,” he said clearly. Then he murmured something unintelligible, but Jane was sure it was some variation depicting his dissatisfaction for her choice to move to Hope Falls.

  “You shush, Walter. It’s her life to live. Not ours,” her grandma came to Jane’s defense.

  Her grandpa had more to say, but again, Jane couldn’t make out what it was when he started coughing loudly.

 

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