Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  “So far so good?” Shane asked, drawing my gaze to her.

  “Yeah. It’s not too bad.” I chanced a quick peek back to the group I’d just left and saw that the chair the man had been sitting in was now empty. A scan of the area showed him standing at one of the pool tables, a cue in his hand, waiting as another guy lined up his shot. The woman who’d been on his lap was now sitting at a high-top table tucked into the back corner, chatting with a couple other women who were all dressed like her in barely-there clothes. “Hey, do you know who that guy over there is?” I asked, tilting my head in his direction. “Dark blond hair, navy tee, at the second table?”

  She looked toward the pool table I indicated for a split second before whipping back around to me. “Cannon Banks? Girl, you’d be smart to steer way clear of that one.”

  My eyes went big, and I lowered my voice to a whisper as I asked, “Is he dangerous?” Something in my gut told me Cannon Banks was all kinds of dangerous.

  She gave her head a shake. “Only to your ovaries.” At my questioning expression, she continued to explain. “He’s not a criminal or anything like that, he’s just a dawg with a capital D. That chick sitting over there drooling after him?” I nodded, letting her know I knew who she was talking about. “She’s just one of many, babe. That dude’s broken more hearts in this town than half the male population combined. You seem like a sweet girl. I’d hate to see you turn into one of his castoffs.”

  “Wait . . . Oh. No!” I said on a yelp. “No, no, no. It’s not like that. I’m not looking . . . That is, I’m not on the market. Like, at all. You don’t need to worry about that happening.”

  Shane’s features grew sympathetic. “Darla said you mentioned a cheating ex.”

  I had, but that wasn’t even half the reason I was currently—and for the foreseeable future—anti-man. “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Anyway, I was just asking because I got a vibe off him when he first came in.”

  She let out a snort. “Yeah, you and every other woman in a three-town radius from here. Me and the other waitresses call that the Cannon Effect. You’re really pretty. No doubt you’re already on his radar, so watch your back, yeah?”

  With that word of warning, she picked up her loaded tray and headed off. Leaving me shaken. I didn’t want to be on his radar. I didn’t want to be on any man’s radar. I hadn’t been lying when I told her I was off the market.

  I was still plagued with nightmares from the attack every night. I could still recall the cigarette smoke on his breath and the feel of his rough, calloused hands pulling at me viciously. That night remained in my mind with disturbingly perfect clarity. The panic attacks might have subsided, but I was nowhere near ready to put myself out there.

  And now that Shane had laid everything out for me, I knew my gut instinct to stay away was spot on. Sure, I hadn’t felt that stomach-swooping, pulse-pounding, skin-tingling sensation I felt when he walked through the door with another guy in so long I couldn’t even recall the last time it happened, but there was no way in hell I was going to let something as trivial as attraction push me off the course of my new life.

  Even if he was the first man I’d been attracted to since that awful night.

  Chapter 4

  Farah

  I felt the cold metal of the blade bite into my neck. I felt the weight of his body press harder against my back, shoving me into the side of my car with so much force it pushed the air from my lungs.

  The rancid smell of cigarette smoke made my nose burn and my eyes water as his breath fanned across my neck. “Fuck me. Knew a rich bitch like you’d smell good. Tell me, that cunt of yours smell just as sweet?”

  I opened my mouth to scream, only to have the sound cut off when his big gloved hand slammed over my lips, muffling the noise.

  I thrashed and struggled as hard as I could, trying my best to kick the man who’d just come out of nowhere and pinned me against my car.

  “That’s it, little girl.” He let out a vicious laugh that made my blood turn to ice. “Show me what you got. Not worth it if you don’t put up a fight.”

  I screamed from behind his hand again, but it was no use. The lot where I’d parked was cast in shadows. There was no one around to see or hear me.

  Fear gripped at my chest, squeezing it in a vice-like grip as panic clawed at my throat. I was so terrified; it was getting harder and harder to breathe, but I didn’t stop fighting. I couldn’t. It was all I had. The man was so much bigger than I was, so much stronger, that flight wasn’t an option.

  A shiver of revulsion wracked my body when I felt his nose brush the hair from my shoulder and trail up my neck.

  “Now we’re gonna have a little fun.”

  I came awake, sucking in a gasp so big my lungs burned as I shot up to sitting in my bed. My whole body shook, and a fine sheen of sweat coated my skin. The covers were tangled around my legs from where I’d been thrashing in my sleep. Just like every night for the past several months, it took a while for the dream to release me from its clutches.

  “Just a dream, Farah,” I said to myself, blowing out a shaky breath as I lifted a trembling hand to brush the damp hair from my forehead. “It was just a dream. You’re safe.”

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths as I clutched the sheets in my hands and dug my toes into the mattress. “Warm sheets, soft bed, lavender candle,” I whispered.

  It was one of the methods my therapist had taught me to help fight off my panic attacks. Focus on your surroundings to help keep yourself grounded. Lavender was supposed to have a soothing effect, so each night before I went to sleep, I lit a lavender candle on my bedside table.

  “Warm sheets. Soft bed. Lavender candle.”

  I repeated the mantra over and over, reminding myself where I was until the fear finally ebbed out of me.

  My body loosened one muscle at a time and the tremors eventually stopped.

  Turning my head, I looked at the clock beside my bed, the bright red numbers showed it was just after seven. I barely had four hours of sleep.

  Bad Alibi closed at two, and after shooing out the last remaining stragglers, closing out, and cleaning up, I didn’t get out for another forty-five minutes, meaning I hadn’t fallen into bed until after three in the morning.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I slowly pushed to my feet. There was no use lying back down now. I was wide awake. The nightmares did that to me. After each one, I was left shaken to the point that sleep would allude me for the rest of the day.

  My feet ached and my legs throbbed. I’d been working at Bad Alibi for a week and a half now, and all those long hours on my feet helped to show me just how out of shape I was.

  Every muscle in my body made itself known as I started for the bathroom. The Redbud Inn, where I’d been crashing since my move to Redemption, and where I’d stay until my house was livable, boasted about their updated amenities, one of which was their state-of-the-art massaging showerheads, and I was pleased to say they hadn’t lied. The spray did wonders on my sore neck and shoulders.

  And that was just one of the reasons I loved the cute little inn. When you drove up the lane, the first thing you saw was an adorable two-story cottage, complete with white clapboard siding, black shutters, and a bold red front door. I’d been nervous at first, thinking I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere until I turned into the small gravel lot at the side of the house and spotted the detached, L-shaped building farther back on the property with its own parking lot. There where ten rooms in total, each bigger than you’d expect with a recently updated bathroom and kitchenette area. And if that wasn’t great enough, there was a small, separate building that contained a washer and dryer.

  The woman who ran the place, a sweet, beautiful redhead named Poppy who looked to be about my age, had waved the fee to use the laundry saying I had that perk since I was a long-term guest.

  Another perk was that I’d gotten to know Poppy, and we’d hit it off extremely well. If I hadn’t worried I was
getting ahead of myself, I might have even considered her a friend.

  After a long shower, letting the water work out the kinks in my back and wash away the chill from that terrible nightmare, I finished getting ready for the day, sliding on my new jean shorts and another tank top, this one a light cream color with a paisley design in light pink and dark brown.

  I blew my hair out, leaving the long blonde tresses a bit wild and wavy—something old Farah never dared to do; her hair always had to be perfect—and slapped on the bare minimum makeup-wise. With that done, I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops and headed out the door, ready for my new morning ritual of coffee and conversation with Poppy.

  I was halfway down the sidewalk when a big bang from the room I’d just passed jarred me to a stop. I stood motionless, worry twisting my stomach into knots. Another crash sounded from inside, but this one was followed by a loud, feminine cry that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anything other than pleasure.

  My mouth fell open as I stayed rooted to the sidewalk, unable to move as a series of male grunts followed shortly after the woman, well . . . finished, indicating that the early morning activities of the couple in the room had come to an end.

  Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, I forced my feet to move and scurried through the parking lot and across the few yards that led to Poppy’s place. I slowed when I reached the steps leading up the wrap-around porch to the back door.

  Rapping my knuckles on the screen door, I called out, “Poppy?”

  Her face appeared through the screen a moment later, a big smile on her lips. With that smile, her heart-shaped face, and big blue eyes, she looked one of those beautiful porcelain dolls.

  “Hey! Come on in. I just made a pot of coffee.” The screen door creaked as I pulled it open, and when I stepped inside, I was immediately welcomed by the smell of coffee and cinnamon. “I’ve got cinnamon rolls in the oven. Just a few more minutes if you want one when they’re done.”

  “Ooh, yes please!”

  “Then make yourself at home. I’m surprised to see you here so early. Didn’t you get in really late?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I moved to the coffee maker and made myself a cup of coffee as I fibbed just a bit. “Insomnia. Not a big deal, I’ve been functioning on about four hours of sleep for a long time.” Almost a year, to be exact. Turning to face her, I propped myself against the edge of the counter and grinned behind the rim of my coffee mug. “Speaking of being up early, the couple in room four were already going at it. Talk about early risers.”

  Poppy let out a snort. “Not surprised, given who stayed in there last night. One of the downfalls of running an inn in a small town is the one-nighter guests.” She let out a dramatic shiver, curling her top lip as she added, “Makes me feel like I’m running a brothel sometimes. I’m not looking forward to cleaning that room later today.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask who was staying in that room, but I didn’t, deciding to give the rambunctious couple their privacy.

  Poppy and I hung out long enough for me to finish my coffee and have a cinnamon roll. Running the inn was a twenty-four hour job, and I didn’t want to get in the way or wear out my welcome, so we said our good-byes, and I started back to my room.

  Pulling the cellphone out of my back pocket, I brought up the text string between my brother and me and began drafting a message to him as I walked. So far, I loved my new town, and I was excited for the life I was building. The only downside was not having Jase and Bennett close, so I did my best to stay in regular contact.

  I’d been so wrapped up in my task I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going and walked smack into something incredibly hard. My phone fell to the concrete, and I would have followed after it had it not been for what felt like steel bands wrapping around my waist. It took a moment to register that what I’d walked into was a person . . . a very strong, very solid person.

  “Whoa. Careful there, new girl.”

  “Crap, I’m so sor—” The apology died on my tongue when I looked up into a pair of hazel eyes. I’d seen those very eyes at least four times for the past week and a half, but only from a distance. Now, seeing them up close, I noticed they were even more beautiful than I’d originally thought. His eyes were flecked liberally with gold and ringed with dark green around the edge of the iris. They were eyes a person could drown in and never come back up for air.

  “You good?”

  At his low, husky voice, my gaze cast down to a pair of lips I hadn’t let myself fully study until that very moment—full, pink lips that looked like they were made to kiss. The bottom lip was slightly plumper, while the top had the perfect cupid’s bow shape to it.

  Lost in a daze, I allowed myself to do what I’d wanted to do for the past week and a half, but never let myself, seeing as I was doing my best to keep a distance from Cannon Banks, like he was Patient Zero for the bubonic plague. I studied his gorgeous face. Beneath the dark scruff laid a perfectly square jaw that looked strong enough to cut glass and sharp, distinct cheekbones. His nose was just slightly crooked, like he’d been punched in it once or twice, and it hadn’t set correctly, but strange as it sounded, it worked for him. If it wasn’t for that slight curvature and the bump right in the middle, his nose would have been almost too perfect. But how it was only added to the tantalizing ruggedness that was his face.

  “Hummingbird.”

  My gaze shot up to his, my brows pulling into a quizzical frown. “Hummingbird?”

  He removed an arm from around my waist and reached up to pull one of my hands from his chest. His long fingers circled my wrist and pressed against the pulse point on the underside. “Seemed fitting. Your pulse is racin’ like crazy.” One corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk that made my belly flip. “Do I make you nervous?”

  “I—huh? No! Of course not. That’s crazy.”

  Liar!

  This wasn’t good. When it came to Cannon Banks, I needed to remain distant, not pressed up against him from chest to hips so damn tight not even sunlight could get through.

  Taking a step back, I put pressure on the arm he still had around me until he had no choice but to let me go.

  I put a good five feet between us but still felt it wasn’t enough. He’d been in the bar a handful of times since that first night, and each time he walked through the door, my body responded. I’d spend the entire shift feeling like one big exposed nerve. Shane’s warning still echoed in my head, and the fact that he’d gone home with two different women besides the one I saw him with that first night only proved her point.

  He took a step closer, and my body stiffened, thinking he was going to touch me again, but instead, he bent low and retrieved my phone from the ground at his feet.

  “Oh, um, thank you,” I mumbled, holding out my hand, but instead of handing it over, he turned it right side up and looked down at it. I stared in shock as he brushed his thumb across the screen, scrolling through my texts like it was his right. “Excuse me,” I cried, reaching for my phone, only to have him dodge me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Jase your man?”

  “What? No,” I clipped, going for my phone again, and this time managing to swipe it away from him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  He gave me a slow, measured look, his eyes trailing from my face down my chest, all the way to my legs, and I suddenly felt very aware of every inch of skin on my body. “You sure tell a guy who’s not your man you love and miss him an awful lot.”

  Something inside of me snapped at his nosiness, and the anxiety I usually felt in his presence was replaced with agitation. My eyes narrowed in indignation as I closed the screen on my phone and stuffed it back in my pocket. “That’s because he’s my brother, and I do miss and love him. And you had no right to go through my phone like that. It’s an invasion of privacy.”

  “You got a man?” he asked like he didn’t hear the incredulity in my tone. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

  “
That’s none—”

  Before I could get my answer out, the door beside us opened. A woman with heavily highlighted brown hair sauntered out of the room and immediately pressed herself against Cannon without so much as a glance in my direction.

  “Last night was amazing,” she said in a seductive purr as a secret smile split across her face. “This mornin’ too.”

  A quick peek at the door she’d just exited, and I now knew exactly who I’d overheard having sex earlier.

  Of course.

  I looked back to Cannon and saw that, while he’d slung his arm carelessly around the woman’s shoulders, his attention was still fixed on me and, once again, an explosion of butterflies went off in my belly.

  Finally realizing there was a third person in their little huddle, the woman looked in my direction and gave me a not-so-pleasant once over. “Who are you?”

  “I’m no one,” I returned quickly. “And I was just leaving.”

  I wasn’t sure what the hell it was about this man that affected me in such a way, but whatever it was twisted me into knots.

  Shane was right. He was a dawg. “Have a nice day,” I muttered, looking down at the sidewalk as I skirted past the two of them.

  Cannon’s whiskey-rich voice called out just as I reached the door to my room. “See you soon, Hummingbird.”

  And for some reason, I had the sinking feeling that was a promise.

  Chapter 5

  Farah

  Pulling in front of my house, I parked my car behind one of the several work trucks that lined the drive and leaned down for a better look through my windshield. My lips parted on a gasp before my cheeks pulled up in a smile at what I was seeing.

  The newly installed front door opened, and Clay stepped through, moving across the wide porch and resting a shoulder on one of the pillars while he waited for me as I climbed out and snapped a few pictures with my phone to send off to my brother.