by Sienna Ciles
Lost and Found
(A Bad BoyRomance)
By
Sienna Ciles
www.SiennaCiles.com
Copyright
First Edition, October 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Sienna Ciles
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Book Description
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sneek Peek - Accidentally His
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Other Books from Sienna Ciles
About The Author
Book Description
Brains, brawn, money and ambition.
I’ve been the man every woman has wanted, except for one.
And the reason why she didn’t has haunted me, my entire life.
Until now. A simple deal has unlocked the answers I need,
but it comes with a price even a billionaire can’t afford.
She needs me to play the part; rich, successful, her boyfriend.
All things I can do without even acting, but she’s about to get the full package and everything that comes along with it. Her first real experience, with a real man.
I’m about to shake up her corporate world and show her what she’s been missing.
She’s about to hand me the answers I’ve been searching for my entire life. A secret I’ve held from everyone. I never expected such a simple deal, would change my entire life.
What once was lost, is now found.
Chapter One
Bethany
When I saw the sign for the Greenleaf Diner, I knew I needed a break from driving. I needed to stop and get something in my stomach in order to finish up the trip back home. I changed lanes and turned off of the highway at the exit, fighting off the brief flurry of irritable anxiety that I was somehow going to be “late,” even though I didn’t technically have a deadline for getting into town.
I’d been planning my tactics for my homecoming for weeks--for months, even--ever since I confirmed that I would be going. It might seem silly to put so much stock into a stupid high school reunion, but I wanted to make as much of a splash as possible.
I yawned as I turned off of the highway and pulled into the parking lot for the diner. It had been years since I’d been this close to my hometown; even for holidays, my parents and I would go to my grandparents’ place, or to my aunts’ and uncles’ houses. I found a parking spot--not hard, so late at night--and turned off the engine to my car. Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the seat.
I’d worked up to the last possible moment, making sure that everything at the office was taken care of so that I would be able to hit the ground running when I got back in a few days. I’d made sure to pack my laptop, my charger, and my work phone--just in case. If something happened at the agency, I would need to be in contact, and if I had some spare time during the trip, I planned on at least looking over paperwork and reading a few emails, so I’d be as prepared as possible when I got back.
The fact was, as pathetic as it was to admit it, I was as close as a human being could come to being addicted to work. I tried to tell myself at first that it was because I was doing something that I loved and it was because I was doing Important Work, but the truth was--as I realized a few months before the reunion announcement--that I really didn’t have anything else going on in my life.
I opened my eyes and rubbed at my face before making myself get out of the car. “A cup of coffee, and something to eat, and then I’ll get back on the road and get to the house,” I told myself, even as I locked the car up behind me and crunched on the icy-cold asphalt of the parking lot. My parents’ home would be abandoned because my parents were spending the winter in Italy, and they’d given me the keys to the house when I’d told them I was going to my high school reunion.
The door to the diner creaked on its hinges in a welcoming, homey kind of way when I opened it, and a gust of hot air, full of the scents of cooking meat, hot oil, and frying starch blew against my face. This was definitely a warmer welcome than I would have gotten at my parents’ house, and my stomach lurched in my body, reminding me that I’d started feeling hungry about thirty minutes ago.
I stepped into the diner and let the door shut behind me. The place was decorated with old, classic photos and knickknacks. At just before midnight, it wasn’t that busy; there were maybe three people seated at the tables, and a guy sitting at one end of the bar, hunched over the counter with his back to me. I spotted a couple of waitresses moving around, and the cook behind the counter, working away.
“Come on in, honey--it’s raw out there,” one of the waitresses said. I had to agree with her; it hadn’t been so cold when I’d left the city after work, but as soon as the sun had gone down, it had gotten colder and colder. According to my Prius, it was thirty-five degrees outside, and the weather forecast stated that it would get even colder, dipping below freezing overnight.
I sat at the bar and one of the waitresses brought me a menu, giving me a quick smile and telling me to take my time as she poured me a glass of water. “I definitely want a nice, big cup of coffee, if nothing else,” I told her, and she nodded.
“I’ll bring you a pot, how about that? Maybe some hot chocolate, too? On the house,” she said quickly.
I smiled up at her.
“You’re just trying to make it look like you’re not giving our Casanova here special treatment,” one of the other waitresses called out from behind the counter, where she was doing something to the register.
“No, I’m just a nice person all around,” my waitress countered. Casanova? I looked around the diner to try and figure out who they could possibly be talking about. The booth across the dining room had an old man seated at it with one of his buddies, both of them reading newspapers over cups of coffee and the remains of some kind of deep-fried feast. Clearly not them--or at least, I was pretty sure it wasn’t them. One of the other tables had a few college-age girls seated at it, and obviously it wasn’t them.
That just left the guy sitting a few seats away from me, hunched over the counter, looking down at his phone. From behind, I wouldn’t have ever called him any kind of Casanova, and even in profile I couldn’t really see the allure at first; he had dark hair combed and slicked into a weird 1950s style, and from the side,
his nose looked a bit too big for his face. He was wearing heavy jeans and a thick, dark green hoodie, with worn-down, washed-out boots on his feet and a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.
“She’s just jealous, Lucy, don’t pay her any attention,” the guy said, turning to look in our direction, speaking to my waitress.
Seeing his face, I had to admit he was handsome. His nose wasn’t as big looking at it from the front, and the lean, sharp jawline--speckled with some stubble--balanced it. He had the nicest eyebrows I’d ever seen on a guy, framing big, dark brown eyes, and a smiling, cupid’s bow mouth that had the faintest little twist at the corners like he knew the punchline to a joke he wasn’t telling anyone just yet.
“Of course I’m jealous; she got to you first,” the other waitress said.
I had to chuckle at that, and turned my attention back to the menu, listening as the two women continued to banter back and forth about the guy, with him occasionally chiming in. It took longer than I would have believed possible for me to finally decide on something to eat; my waitress brought me coffee and hot chocolate both, and I’d even taken a couple of sips, by the time I figured out what I actually wanted.
“Made up your mind?” There wasn’t any impatience in the waitress’ voice as she asked me, for which I was grateful.
“I’ll have the steak and eggs--and can I get some spinach in those? I saw you have a spinach and cheese scramble.”
“Absolutely--not a problem,” the waitress replied; I watched her scribble some notes on her pad. “Do you want pancakes or french toast with that?”
“French toast, I think,” I said.
“Good choice--the pancakes here have always been a little on the dry side,” the man at the other end of the counter said. I glanced at him and in spite of myself I felt a little rush of heat in my cheeks. Whatever charm he’d already worked on the waitresses at the diner, apparently I wasn’t immune to it, either.
While the waitresses playfully scolded the handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzzing in my purse. I took it out and checked the flashing screen to see my friend Jess’s name. I figured she was probably worried she hadn’t heard from me yet.
“Hey,” I said as soon as the line connected. “I’m fine; just got off the road to eat some dinner finally.”
“How far are you from town?”
I thought about it for a moment. “About forty minutes, maybe an hour?”
“Oh--where did you stop off at?”
“Green Leaf Diner,” I replied.
“Ah, so yeah, you’re not too far,” Jess agreed. “You ready for the whole shebang?”
“I’m just about as ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, thinking about the level of planning that I put into something as simple as a high school reunion.
“I mean, realistically, it’s not like you have to worry that much; you legitimately are one of the most successful people in our graduating class,” Jess pointed out.
“I know, I know,” I said, sighing. “I just...well, you know.”
“I know,” Jess agreed. “What about that last detail we talked about?”
I grinned wryly to myself. “The contingency? That, I had a little bit of trouble trying to arrange,” I admitted. I glanced over at the good-looking stranger still holding down the other end of the bar. “Though there’s a possibility I can take care of it before getting to town.”
“Do tell,” Jess said.
“I don’t know for sure. It’s just an idea, anyway. If I can’t stand on my own two feet and make my reputation, I shouldn’t even try, right?”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t try just because there’s no point,” Jess pointed out. “But since you’re determined to be Queen Shit of Turd Mountain, you might as well do it big.”
I laughed at that, and looking around again I saw the waitress bringing my food.
“Hey--I gotta go, but I’ll let you know when I’m home safely,” I told Jess. I ended the call quickly and set my phone down on the counter.
“Steak and spinach-egg scramble, with french toast,” Lucy said, setting it down in front of me. “Enjoy, hon.” She turned and stepped away with a polite smile and then badgered the handsome guy a little more for his attention, flirting and being coy with him. She had to be a least forty, I thought, starting in on my dinner; not that it mattered, but the guy looked closer to my age than the waitress’s.
He was a good sport about it, though, giving as good as he got from both of the waitresses until the cook behind the counter yelled at them to focus on their side work if they weren’t serving customers. Then the man went back to staring at his phone, occasionally taking sips of his coffee or picking at a piece of pie.
I couldn’t resist the urge to talk to him. Even if I hadn’t had a plan in mind, I probably would have managed to at least pass the time of day--or technically night--while we were both sitting there. Also, the idea that had started to percolate in my mind when Jess called me was too good to pass up.
“Hey,” I said, when he took one of his breaks from his phone. He glanced at me and smiled slightly.
“Need something, princess?”
“Please don’t call me that,” I said quickly, cringing at the patronizing term of endearment.
“Well, I don’t know your name and you’re certainly dressed the part, in those Jimmy Choos,” he countered.
“I’m Bethany,” I said. I glanced down at my shoes. I hadn’t changed from when I’d left work--I’d run home and grabbed my bags and immediately headed out, so I was in one of my two really good pairs of boots, along with the outfit I’d worn into the office. I didn’t think I looked much like a princess, but he was right about the brand of the shoes--which surprised me. Good lord he’s probably gay...but that doesn’t mean he won’t go along with the plan. That might actually be even better. “What brings you into town?”
“Oh, this and that. A little research,” the guy said. “What about you, Bethany?” The way he said my name sent a little shiver down my spine. Maybe he wasn’t gay.
“I have a high school reunion this weekend.” My heart started beating faster in my chest as I thought about what I planned to work around to asking him
The guy pushed his sleeves up and I saw that he had tattoos on both of his forearms: a compass rose on one and some kind of crest on the other. I had to wonder what he did for a living, with the kind of lean, muscled frame he had, the hairstyle--all of it. He looked tough and ruthless and somehow oddly sweet, all at the same time.
“Odd time of year for that,” the guy observed.
I shrugged. “It was supposed to be during the summer, but nobody could agree on a day or a venue,” I explained. “You never gave me your name, you know.”
“Ransom,” he said.
I rolled my eyes at that; it was so obviously fake.
He grinned. “Don’t believe me?”
“Either your parents were hippies or you’re lying,” I said.
Ransom chuckled and reached into his pocket, taking out a wallet. “Here,” he said, rising from his seat and leaning over sideways. He handed me an ID card, and sure enough it read Ransom Jacobs, with an address from another state.
“This could be fake,” I pointed out. It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took the ID back from me and shoved it into his wallet, and the wallet back into his jeans pocket. Almost unwillingly, my gaze darted to the crotch of his jeans--there was a sizeable bulge there. It’s nice to look at...but not like anything’s ever going to happen.
“You are such a cynic,” he said. “Not a pretty trait in a woman.”
“You prefer women who are pretty and naive?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I prefer women who are ugly and cynical,” Ransom countered. “Usually the pretty ones don’t have very good reasons for their cynicism.”
“What counts as a good reason?” I was intrigued in spite of myself, forgetting my goal for a moment.
“Abandonment, betrayal, things like that,” Rans
om replied. “In my experience, beautiful women don’t tend to experience those things--not really--until they’re over thirty-five.”
“And what’s your experience?”
“This and that,” he said with another grin. “A little private detective work, a little procurement, odd jobs.” He shrugged.
“Are you terribly busy the next few days? I mean apart from whatever you’re doing in town,” I said.
Ransom pressed his lips together and seemed to consider my question.
“I can multi-task, if you’ve got the right job,” he said.
I took a deep breath. The worst thing he can do is turn you down, and then you’re in the same position you were when you walked in—how bad is that really? I took a sip of my coffee, mulling the idea of what I was about to propose for a moment longer.
“I might have a job you could help me with,” I said finally. “But I should know you a little better before I decide whether or not to offer it to you.”
Chapter Two
Ransom
I’d been right about to make my goodbyes and take my exit when she’d come in, and after I’d scoped the thousand-dollar shoes on her feet--definitely out of the ordinary for a place like the Green Leaf Diner--I’d decided to stay a bit longer, just for the sake of curiosity. Of course, as cold as it was, I’d have taken any real reason to keep sitting at the counter, but I’d had plenty of coffee already, and I didn’t want to buy anything else to eat if I didn’t have to.
“What do you want to know?” I resisted the urge to call her princess again--even if it was apt--and turned my chair to face her. She had brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes. I thought about getting up and taking the seat next to hers, but she had the look of someone who was a bit jumpy. Just what’s your damage, princess?
She scrunched her nose. “You’re not like...with the mob or anything, right?”
I laughed at that question. For someone as cynical as Bethany acted, that was a naive question.
“I’ve done a couple of things for a couple of families but I’m not in the mob,” I replied. “It’s always good to have powerful people owe you a solid or two.” I let that sink in for a moment. “What do you do for a living? I mean, it must be something important--considering the shoes.”