Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
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
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Take 2 on Love
By Torrie Robles
Copyright © 2017 Torrie Robles
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First eBook edition: 2017
Edited by Indie After Hours – Jennifer Roberts-Hall
Cover design by Concierge Literary Designs & Photography – Judi Perkins
Formatting by Paul Salvette
To Arix, Tyler, and Kaitlyn.
You’re the reasons I became a mother, and I’m pretty sure you’re the reasons why I question my sanity 90% of the time. Love you.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
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
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Epilogue
About the Author
There’s a lot of ‘incidents’ in Take 2 that have actually happened in our home. My kids are great at providing me with “book worthy” situations, so it’s only natural that I acknowledge them first.
Arix: I’m sure you’ll never read this unless I make you, but thank you for being you, Bubs. You’ve blossomed over the past couple of years. I love watching you grow into an adult, and I’m actually in awe of it. Seeing you, my first born, go from a child to a man who pays his own bills and knows what responsibly is at such a young age is inspirational. Your steadfastness is inspiring, and I hope you achieve every one of your dreams
Tyler: I’m not sure if you’ll ever know how much I love you. From the moment you were born, you’ve healed a part of me. You’ve been the one to calm my storm when life has given me nothing but waves. I pray, with all my heart you become the man you want to be. I want you to achieve everything you want out of life. I want you to look back as you become an adult and think, ‘wow, I did it’ because I know you can. Never stop believing in yourself, Ty, and remember, I’ll always be in your corner cheering for you.
Kate: I don’t think you’ll ever truly understand how thankful I am for you. As you know, when I was a little girl, I loved spending time with my mom, and I always wanted to be able to experience that with my daughter. Because of you, I get to experience all of it. I love our relationship, and the bond that we have and I know it will only get stronger as you get older. You are one of my best friends–I really mean that. Your strength at this age in your life is amazing to me. You hold true to your convictions, you push yourself to be the best you can be, and I am honored to be your mother. I love you.
Jenni: Thank you for always pushing me to be better. Thank you for your blunt honesty and your belief in me. I’m thankful you don’t believe in sugar coating anything because your honesty is what makes me a better writer. It’s because of you that I’ve been able to grow with each book I finish. I’m honored to walk this journey with you. I’d truly be lost without you. You keep me centered and focused, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend. I love you, girl.
Gilly: First and foremost, thank you for your friendship. I’m so honored to call you my friend. You’re the definition of a support system. I value your honesty and the time you’ve taken to read and re-read my books. Thank you for listening to me complain, and for always being my voice of reason when I want to throw in the towel. It all means so much to me.
Tianne: You have no idea how much your support means to me. I love our history together. I love that I can think back and laugh because you made my youth so much brighter with your personality and humor. Thank you for being there for me through the process of this book. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy life to support me and my dreams. I love you.
Jennifer L: Oh, honey, I don’t know where to start with the thank yous. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for the endless hours you spend getting my name out there. Working social media and making sure people read my books. I love how you’re not afraid to ask those whom I’m too shy to reach out to myself. You give me so much of yourself, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to thank you enough.
Jennifer R: I can finally thank you properly for being the best dang editor around. You make my words pretty. You also make it so I don’t sound like a babbling idiot. You have no idea how proud I felt to have you in my corner when I read review after review stating how great the flow was in Lick. That’s all you, baby. Thank you for taking pride in your work—it totally shows. I hope to keep you in my corner for a long while.
Thank you for the gals in Torrie’s
Troop for always supporting me. Your enthusiasm for my work is crazy! I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to people wanting to read the words I’ve written. Even after three years in this business, it’s still surreal to me. Thank you to the bloggers, and reader for taking a chance on me. You have no idea how appreciative I am towards all of you.
17 years old
The stars shine brightly among the backdrop of the dark sky. The pop and crackle of the fire twirl, dancing to the tune of the constant chirping of crickets. Warm arms wrap around me from behind, for the first time, but I feel as though they’ve always meant to hold me.
“Why did you wait so long to ask me out, Heath?”
For as long as I can remember, Heath’s been in my life. First as a classmate, the boy who used to throw bugs at me, then as the boy who used to tease me incessantly. My longtime friend, the one person I’ve always been able to count on. Somewhere along the way, we became more. We became friends.
I feel the vibration of his chest as he laughs. With a sweep of his nose, he moves my hair out of the way and places a gentle kiss on my temple.
“Truth?” he murmurs.
“Yes. Truth. Always the truth.”
“All right. For one, there was no way I was asking my mom to drive us on our first date. I wanted it to be special. And two… I was afraid.”
“Well, I have no clue why you were afraid, but I have to confess. I’m not sure there will ever be a better first date.”
I didn’t know what to expect when he’d shown up to my house, out of the blue and unannounced a few hours prior. The last I heard, he was taking his driving test after school. I was shocked when he knocked on my front door, asking if I’d like to go for a ride in his father’s truck. It wasn’t until I was buckled that he asked me out. “Good,” he’d replied when I answered yes. “Because I already have our date all planned out.”
When we pulled through his family’s property, I knew exactly where we were going. Out in the back pasture is my favorite place to be. I love relaxing on the blanket covered hay bales they always have scattered around the area. I love this piece of land that was nestled against the green of the foothills. So different from the city where I live.
“I’m kinda hoping this might be your last first date, Whit,” he confesses.
I turn in his arms. “What are you after, Mr. James?” I tap the tip of his nose with my finger.
When he looks at me, his eyes convey everything I know he wants to tell me. Biting his lip, he leans in a little closer to me before he whispers, “Your heart, babe. Always your heart.”
Before I can respond, I feel the softness of his lips against mine. The butterflies of my stomach start to fly as my heart begins to race, and his hands grab at my waist, bringing me with him as he lies back in the grass of the field. As soon as I feel his back hit the ground, I pull my lips from his. My long hair falls over our faces, shielding us from the outside world.
“Are you serious?” I question him.
“I’ve always been serious about you, Whit. From the moment I first saw you when we were kids, I knew I’d always be serious about you. When I see you, I see my future. I always have and I always will.”
“Mom!”
I hear my daughter screech my name from across the house. If I don’t make a sound maybe, she’ll think I’m not home. No such luck when she barges her way through my closed office door.
“I need face cream.”
I peel my eyes away from the cursor on my computer screen that’s been dancing in the same spot for the past ten minutes. Damn writer’s block. This book is already taking me longer than I intended. So much longer, in fact, that I’ve had to push the release date back—twice. I know I’m just one of thousands in the indie community, but I don’t write to pay the bills. I write because I love it. In my everyday life, I’m an elementary school teacher at the local Naval base. I’m a civilian teacher who teaches the kids of our enlisted men and women or the officers assigned to the base. Being a teacher on a military base is a highly sought after position, and I’ve been lucky enough to snatch one of the private contracts. This means that I make more money than a teacher who works off the base.
I take a deep breath and ask, “Why do you need face cream?” Doesn’t my daughter understand that I only have a few hours a week to be able to write? Summer vacation is officially over, meaning I have to teach five days a week. That cuts down my writing time, substantially. Doesn’t she realize this fact? She’s such a word blocker.
“Because I just finished watching this YouTuber, and she said that finding the right face cream is like finding the Holy Grail. Like having the fountain of youth sitting in the palm of your hand. I need to get the jump on wrinkles.” The look on her face is one of desperation. She actually believes the crap these social media types are spewing. Oh, how times have changed.
“You’re thirteen, Jenna.”
“I know.” She nods in agreement. Her dark brown hair falls in natural semi-spirals down, past her shoulders. “I’m halfway to middle age.”
“Halfway, huh? So,” I sit back in my plush leather chair, crossing my arms over my chest, “what does that make me?”
“Old.” She sticks her hand out. “But don’t worry, Mom. You look great for your age. Really.”
I have no words.
My lack of response lets her know her time to vacate my office is now. She slowly backs out, taking the doorknob in her hand and pulling the door shut. “Oh!” she shouts, swinging the door open once more just as my gaze returns to the computer. “I almost forgot. I need a ride to the movies tonight. Dad said you’d take me.”
I turn my gaze back to my daughter who is now giving me her best smile. “Did he now? And what is your dad doing that’s so important he can’t take you?”
She shrugs. “He’s in the garage.”
The garage. I’d like to rename it the ‘coward zone.’ The place he goes to escape the realities of life like bills, chores, and kids. He thinks if he stays out of sight then I won’t ask him to do anything, and he’s right. I usually don’t. I’m self-sufficient in most things. However, right now I want—no I need to use my day off to write, and I’m already having a hard enough time getting the words to come.
“Let me go see what’s so important that he can’t run you to the movies.” I get up from my chair and head to the garage with Jenna in tow. Taking a deep breath to relax my already irritated state, I open the garage door and find Heath underneath his four-wheel truck.
“Hey, Heath?” He doesn’t respond, so I roll my eyes and squat down to his level. “Hey!” I say with a little more force.
“What!” he bites back.
“Why can’t you take Jenna? I’m writing, and this is my only free day this week.”
He stops messing with the undercarriage and looks at me. “Figured you weren’t busy, babe.”
“Well, I am. You know I’ve been having a hard time with this book. I’m way past the date I was supposed to have it to my editor. I need to spend this time focusing and finding my groove. Besides you know that school’s back in session so that means even less time I have to write this book.”
I can only catch a few words that he’s saying under his breath and I’m sure ‘taking care of my shit’ were a few of them. “Listen, you’re not the only one under a deadline here. I’ve got three weeks to get this rig in perfect running condition before me and the guys take off.”
“Can’t you take a day off and work on it before you go?”
He sighs. “You know I can’t. Not with the projects I’ve got coming up. I’ll be lucky to actually get to go on this trip with my workload.”
I don’t know anything about his workload because he doesn’t tell me. He assumes I know these things, but I haven’t developed the ability of mind reading.
“Besides, I’m all greasy. It’s easier if you do it.” He goes back to tinkering under the truck, ending our conversation.
With a sigh, I stand and turn towards Jenna. There’s
a look of sadness on her face, and it makes me feel guilty for making such a big deal about this. “Yeah, okay, honey. I’ll take you.”
She smiles. “Oh, and Mom?” Her gaze drops to my chest. “Can you put a bra on? I don’t want you scaring my friends because we gotta pick them up on the way.”
I hear Heath laugh at her comment. Asshole. “Sure, honey,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You deserve to do it if you love it, Whit. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.” Ruby, my best friend since day one of college, brings her margarita to her mouth and takes a sip. That’s her usual: margarita on the rocks.
I stay away from the cocktails. The days of me indulging in mixed drinks are over. Once I hit my thirties, my body became unable to metabolize alcohol without me having a huge, I want to die, hangover with puking and the sweats. Because of this, I stick to ciders. My body agrees with ciders, and I learned a long time ago to listen to my body.
It’s our weekly girl’s night out at Chester’s, the local pub. This is the time when we can get away from the men in our lives and vent. Think back to our younger years before husbands, and kids. Well, kids for me. Instead of kids, Ruby and her hubby breed champion blood-line type dogs.
“I know, but I’m the only one in my family who thinks the same as you do. Everyone else thinks it’s a waste of time—a waste of their time.” I take a sip of my cider. “If I want to write when they want to do something, I get eye rolling and mumbling under their breath. Hello, teacher here. I can hear them.”
The waitress comes over and places our lettuce wraps, our chicken lettuce wraps, since Ruby doesn’t do seafood, on our table. “I still, after all these years, don’t see how you can’t like shrimp,” I say.
“Coming from the woman who eats buffalo cauliflower.”
“What? It’s healthy.”
“It’s fried and smothered in hot sauce. It’s not healthy.”
“Whatever. No need to rain on my parade.”
She scoops the chicken filling with her spoon and plops it down on the piece of lettuce before bringing it to her mouth. “What does Heath think about it?”
“Heath is Heath.” I shrug. “Nothing’s changed on his end. He likes it when it’s convenient. Not so much when his work clothes haven’t been washed. I know he supports me, but I always feel there’s a catch. Like my writing is a roadblock in what he needs to get done. And he complains it takes up too much of ‘our’ time together, and by our time, I mean sitting in front of the television watching shows I either don’t care about or have seen a hundred times before. Sure, if he wants to go out to eat, I’ll stop writing, but if he wants to sit and watch a show we’ve seen, why can’t I sit next to him and write?”
Take 2 on Love Page 1