Unraveling Him
The Bailey Brothers Book Three
Claire Kingsley
Copyright © 2020 by Claire Kingsley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized.
Published by Always Have, LLC
Edited by Elayne Morgan
Cover design by Lori Jackson
Cover photography by Furious Fotog
Cover model: Chase Ketron
www.clairekingsleybooks.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
Keep in touch with CK
About this book
Prologue
1. Evan
2. Evan
3. Fiona
4. Fiona
5. Fiona
6. Evan
7. Evan
8. Fiona
9. Evan
10. Evan
11. Fiona
12. Evan
13. Fiona
14. Evan
15. Fiona
16. Fiona
17. Evan
18. Evan
19. Fiona
20. Fiona
21. Evan
22. Fiona
23. Fiona
24. Evan
25. Fiona
26. Evan
27. Fiona
28. Fiona
29. Evan
30. Fiona
31. Evan
32. Evan
33. Fiona
34. Evan
35. Fiona
36. Fiona
37. Evan
38. Fiona
39. Evan
40. Fiona
41. Evan
42. Fiona
43. Evan
44. Fiona
45. Evan
46. Fiona
Epilogue
Broken Miles: Chapter 1
Dear Reader
Acknowledgments
Also by Claire Kingsley
About the Author
This book is dedicated to the Calm meditation app and the lovely people at the Hilton Homesuites. Without them, this book would never have been finished.
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About this book
She’s the sunshine to his storm cloud
Stoic, growly Evan Bailey has enough on his plate. A growing business, a pack of brothers who drive him crazy, a gossip-loving small town, and a rivalry that runs deeper than any family feud. Love? That’s a hard pass. He already learned the hard way that he’s better off alone.
Fiona Gallagher has a problem. Or more like ten, but who’s counting? The trouble with her car is just the cherry on top of the crap sundae, but she won’t let that get her down.
Besides, she has a plan. Evan Bailey—that brooding custom car builder who happens to hate her father—is going to help her. He just doesn’t know it yet.
The last thing Evan needs is the overly cheery Fiona crashing into his solitary life. But her offer is too compelling to ignore.
Fiona isn’t there to pick through the wreckage of Evan’s heart. If he has one, he won’t let her anywhere near it. But the tension between them is hot enough to combust. And when she starts to see the cracks in his stony façade, she realizes she’s getting more than she bargained for—a lot more—in that big surly man.
Author’s Note: A grouchy, broody loner meets an adorable badass (who talks to her houseplants). It’s the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one with some engine-revving twists. Have a fan ready—you’re in for a Kindle-melting ride.
The Bailey Brothers series is meant to be read in order. Start with book one, Protecting You.
Prologue
Evan
This prologue also appeared as the epilogue at the end of Fighting for Us: The Bailey Brothers Book Two.
The cold night air rushed past me as my bike raced down the empty highway. The scenery flew by, unseen, save for the patch of road illuminated by my headlight. I wasn’t sure where I was going. Away, mostly. I was too restless to go sit at home. I needed to drive. To cut through the wind and lean into the turns. I needed speed.
The highway curved and I had to slow down when I got into Pinecrest. I could drive right through and keep on going. There wasn’t much to do in this little town. But the Crooked Owl Tavern caught my eye. A beer didn’t sound bad right about now. I’d been here before; it was a dive, but the beer was always ice cold.
I parked outside, took off my helmet, and went in.
The light was dim and classic rock played in the background. The rough-around-the-edges crowd hung out here. A few biker types—I’d seen their Harleys outside—and guys with thick beards and work boots. There was a group of twenty-somethings playing pool, a few girls who eyed me when I walked in, and a couple of grizzled old-timers at the bar.
I picked a stool away from everyone. I wasn’t here to talk about the weather, or sports, or whatever the fuck passed for news in a shit hole town like this. I was just here to kill time and get a drink.
The bartender came by and I ordered a beer. True to form, it was ice cold. Had a nice bite to it. I hunched over my drink, bored. Restless. Dissatisfied. But that was how I felt most of the time, so it wasn’t exactly new.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I checked my messages. It was from a client asking about the car I was restoring for him. I’d get back to him later. Taking another swig of my beer, I flicked through a few things. I’d been waiting to hear about a lead on a forties Dodge Power Wagon I was hoping to get my hands on. It didn’t look like much, but if I could get it for the right price, I’d flip it and make a shit ton of money.
I accidentally hit the contacts icon and a name I didn’t recognize flashed on the screen. Jill? Who the fuck was that? Why did I have the number of some girl I didn’t know?
Oh, shit. She was pink cardigan girl, the one Luke Haven had been hitting on. That made me crack a smile. Fucking Luke Haven. As a Bailey, I was obligated to hate the Havens on principle. Truthfully, I didn’t really give a shit about the feud, or the Havens as a whole. But Luke Haven? I’d keep that goddamn feud going just to feed my hatred for that piece of shit.
I selected Jill’s contact info and hit delete. It wasn’t like I was ever going to call her. She’d tasted sweet when I’d kissed her in front of Luke, and sweet was a hard no. A girl like her looked harmless, like a kitten. But kittens had sharp claws, and they were damn good at convincing you it was your fault when you got scratched.
My younger brothers hadn’t learned that lesson yet.
Asher… he was another story. But he’d always been the exception to most rules. And Grace was no kitten.
I was happy for my brother. Glad he’d gotten his shit together enough to work things out with Grace.
I didn’t envy him the demons he’d had to battle, nor the time he’d done in prison. The whole thing still pissed me off. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it. And he was home now.
But fuck, this meant there was going to be a wedding. I’d probably have to be in it. And if not, I’d certainly have to go.
I fucking hated weddings.
The beer wasn’t putting me in a better mood. Neither was thinking about weddings. I’d left my brother’s impromptu engagement party hoping to outrun the hollow ache I’d been feeling. It was irritating how it kept trying to follow me.
A beer wasn’t going to cut it. I’d go home and drown it in whiskey.
Leaving my bottle half-full, I was about to get off my stool and cut out of here, when someone sidled up next to me.
A girl in a black leather miniskirt and a leopard-print top that barely contained her tits perched at the bar. “Hi.”
My brow furrowed. “What?”
The corner of her mouth lifted. She was pretty, even though she wore a lot of makeup, and she had flower tattoos on her shoulder. “You look a little lonely over here all by yourself. I thought maybe you could use a friend.”
My eyes swept up and down. She was about my age. The type of girl who knew exactly how hot she was. Definitely not sweet. By the way she watched me, I could tell what she wanted. Girls didn’t openly stare at your dick like that when they were hoping you’d ask them out to dinner.
She wanted a night. Maybe a string of them.
“A friend?”
“Yeah, although who am I kidding? I could use a friend, too. I’ve had a shitty week.”
I grunted and took a drink of my beer.
Her eyes flicked to my crotch again. I followed her gaze, making it obvious I could see what she was doing.
“I’ll just cut to the chase. Do you want to get out of here?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?”
She licked her lips. “I was thinking of something better than just a drink.”
I looked away, considering. Usually if I was going to grab a girl to take home with me—or more accurately, take to her place, because I never took girls to mine—I liked to be the one on the prowl.
But this girl was hot, no denying it. And she was right, I was fucking lonely. A little company didn’t sound half bad.
Plus, it had been a hell of a long time since I’d indulged in this kind of thing.
“Look, I know I’m being really forward,” she said. “But I’m the type of girl who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants.”
“I see that.”
She lightly traced a finger down my arm. “A guy like you—tall, thick, rugged—is like crack to me. I can’t resist. And I really did have a shitty week.”
“So did I.”
“See? This works out for both of us.”
She had a point. There was no doubt this girl looked like trouble, but at least she was up front. I knew what I’d be getting into. And damn it, it really had been a long time. Why the fuck not?
I put my beer down. “You live nearby?”
“Yeah. Just up the road.”
“Let’s go.”
We left, and I got on my bike. Followed her up the road to a little house tucked behind some apple trees.
She didn’t turn on the lights when we went inside. Just led me straight back to her bedroom.
This aggressive thing wasn’t bad. No forced small talk. No bullshitting. No games. She’d brought me home to fuck, so why waste time pretending we were going to get to know each other first? She hadn’t even given me her name, and I didn’t want to know. Didn’t care. It was just sex. Just a release.
Just a way to feel a little less empty for a while.
Afterward, she lay sprawled out on the bed, like I’d fucked her unconscious. I had no interest in staying, so I got up to deal with the condom and clean up.
She had a bathroom right off the bedroom. I shut the door and flicked on the light. Tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and quickly looked away. I wasn’t exactly a fan of what I saw there these days.
I washed my hands and splashed water on my face. When I turned off the faucet, something on the counter caught my eye.
I stared at it, a sick feeling erupting in my gut. If that was what I thought it was—and it sure looked like it—there was no part of this that was okay.
Fuck.
1
Evan
This was not how I meant for my night to go.
I didn’t hear a sound through the closed bathroom door. The girl was still sprawled out on her bed in the other room in a post-fuck coma. Clearly not wrestling with her conscience, which was more than I could say for me.
My eyes flicked back to the counter. Damn.
She’d picked me up at a bar, and I should have known she was trouble. I didn’t indulge in this sort of thing very often, but sometimes that itch was hard to ignore. Why not anonymously fuck some girl’s brains out? We were both adults. We knew what this was. Why not take the edge off? Fill the emptiness for a little while.
It should have been fine.
I braced myself against the counter and dropped my head. It wasn’t fine. Not if that was what I thought it was.
A lot of guys wouldn’t have cared. They wouldn’t have thought twice—been on their way without a twinge of guilt. Maybe even come back for more.
I wasn’t one of those guys.
So why the fuck was I here?
I should have known better. There were reasons I stayed alone.
My random hookup’s wedding ring sitting on the counter was one of them.
For a second, I tried to tell myself it could be something else. Her mother’s ring. A ring she wore on her right hand. Maybe it wasn’t even hers.
A quick peek into the medicine cabinet told me that was bullshit. Alongside nail polish, lotion, and makeup remover—typical girl stuff—I found men’s deodorant, shaving cream, and aftershave.
A man obviously lived here. And I’d just fucked his wife.
That was a line I didn’t cross. Ever. I didn’t care what her excuse was. Maybe he was an asshole who treated her like shit. Maybe she’d already decided it was over. Maybe he was out cheating on her and she wanted revenge.
Didn’t matter.
My principles were probably a little loose on a good day, but there were some things even an asshole like me wouldn’t do. Sleeping with another man’s wife was at the top of that list.
But it was too late now. I had slept with her, and it had been every bit as hollow as I’d known it would be.
I’d left my brother’s impromptu engagement party tonight trying to outrun the emptiness inside me. Instead, I was drowning in it.
I opened the bathroom door. The girl—we hadn’t bothered to exchange names—had an arm over her forehead, her eyes closed. I’d certainly given her what she wanted.
And I needed a goddamn shower.
I didn’t care how hot she was, looking at her now made my skin crawl. I had to get the hell out of here. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and tugged my boxer briefs back on. I got my jeans halfway up before she even moved.
“Mm.” She stretched, purring like a cat. “Come back to bed.”
I didn’t answer. Just pulled my jeans up and fastened them.
She opened her eyes and her lips twitched in a smile. “You have somewhere better to be?”
I grabbed my shirt off the floor and tugged it on.
Her smile faded. “So that’s it? You’re not going to say anything?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Thank you?”
I glanced away. A part of me didn’t want to know for sure—wanted to be able to walk away thinking maybe I’d been wrong. But I couldn’t leave without asking. “Are you married?”
She brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead. “What?”
“There’s a ring on you
r bathroom counter.”
Her eyes flicked to the door, then back to me. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. He won’t be home tonight.”
He won’t be home tonight? As if my only concern was getting caught. A low growl rumbled in my throat.
“Come on,” she said, the corners of her lips curling upward. She patted the sheets next to her. “Come back to bed. I’ll suck your dick to get you hard again.”
“Jesus.” I shoved one foot in my shoe, tasting bile on the back of my tongue.
“I told you he won’t be home.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” I bent over to grab my other shoe.
“I mean it. He’s locked up.”
Straightening, I stared at her. “What?”
“He’s serving six months in the state pen.” She got on her hands and knees and slowly crawled toward the edge of the bed. “So come back to bed, because after what you just did to me, I definitely need more of that monster cock.”
Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3) Page 1