Twenty-Four Hours
A SHATTERED BOUNDARIES NOVEL
Carolyn Anthony
DEDICATION
TO
Ophelia Bell
This book is dedicated to my beloved friend, my inspiration and my mentor. You single handedly saved Jake...from me. You challenged me to push outside of myself. To see beyond the catalyst, and bring the true character to life. Thank you for never giving up, for the time you’ve invested in me, the time you’ve sacrificed for me, for your assistance launching this series, and for your never ending support. For all these things, I am forever grateful.
WARNING
My dearest reader, while I am sincerely grateful you have chosen to read Twenty-Four Hours, it would be irresponsible of me not to warn you of the darker themes of the book that could potentially cause triggers for some readers. Twenty-Four Hours has moments that deal with the issues of self-harm among teenagers and adults as well as suicide. These are moments of true pain for the character and were difficult to write. If this is something you feel you can handle, then please, come with me on this dark journey to self-discovery and ultimately love.
Boundaries are built to keep us safe.
Some need to stay locked in place.
Some need to be pushed.
And others...others need to be shattered.
IF ONLY...
1
Sometimes, the love of a lifetime
comes too late.
Present Day
Malibu, California
“Did you get two keys?”
“You don’t need one. But, yes hon, I got two keys.” Jake chuckled, catching sight of Eve’s shaky hands fishing through her purse.
“I don’t have it, Jake.” Her head snapped back to him. “Did you give it to me?”
“Relax.” He reached a hand over to still hers. “I’ve got them. You don’t need a room key.”
“I think I’d just feel better having...”
“No.” He glanced at her. “You’re nervous.”
She sat back with a huff as he drove into the restaurant parking lot. Jake smiled to himself as he parked and turned to her. “It’s been four months, Eve. Just relax and enjoy tonight.”
He quickly got out of the truck, unable to take the sadness clouding her eyes. Loving her had become an addiction. The unconditional and incomprehensible devotion she’d given him, despite all the historic obstacles of their relationship, was something he couldn’t give up—even though his gut said it would be the best thing for her. It reminded him of the cliché, ‘If you love someone, let them go...’ But fuck that. He really did love her, which is why he couldn’t.
When he opened her door, the cool night breeze coming off the ocean whipped Eve’s long hair around her shoulders, carrying the fresh clean fragrance of her shampoo to him. He inhaled deeply, remembering how many times over the past months, he’d caught a hint of something reminding him of the scent of her hair and how much he craved her. Helping her out of the truck, Jake dragged her against him for a moment by the nape of her neck. Running his fingers through the base of her soft hair, he pressed her face against his neck, memorizing the soft feel of her lips against his skin, before letting her go with a kiss on her forehead.
With a hand on the small of her back, he scanned the parking lot then led her up the stairs to the front of the restaurant. Hot skin beneath the soft silk of her thin, black wraparound dress warmed his hand as he moved it lower to the base of her spine. For a second he considered skipping dinner all together.
All in good time. For once, they had more than a few stolen hours.
Holding the door, he guided her inside the entryway and they waited off to the side for the hostess to finish seating the couple ahead of them. Moving his hand over her hip, he tugged her closer to his side, his face inches from hers. “It’s been a long time.”
“I’ve missed you,” Eve said, her gaze locked onto his goatee.
He smirked. He’d known her the better part of her life, but no matter how many times he saw her, his presence always made her nervous. He framed the side of her cheek with his hand, turning her face to him. “No, you didn’t.”
Piercing cornflower blue eyes finally lifted to his. Jesus. Her eyes were so fucking electric blue they sometimes appeared violet, depending on her mood. Like a motherfucking x-ray, he’d swear they saw straight through all his bullshit, delivering a jolt of life into his black fucking heart. Always had.
Well...now that he had her strict attention. “Better. Now, what was that?”
“I’ve missed you.” She smiled.
Jake lowered his eyes to her plush lips. The sincerity and affection emanating from her made him want to crush her to his chest in thanks and fuck everything else. Eve’s warmth was incomparable along with the way she looked at him, as if he were the only man in world. He wiped a solitary tear trailing down the side of her face before running the same finger down the silky column of her neck and over the heated chain she wore, ending at the top of his dog tag.
“Twenty-four hours, baby. No tears. Not tonight.”
Eve nodded and turned her gaze to the smiling hostess who walked up to seat them.
“Two?” The hostess leaned over and grabbed the menus. “The main dining room okay?”
Jake took a quick scan around the restaurant. “Can we have the circular corner booth in the back?” He would have a clear view of the entire place, the entrance and exits from there. And the privacy he wanted with her.
“Of course, sir. Right this way.”
They followed the hostess through the dimly lit main room. He’d picked this place particularly because of the dark, candlelit ambiance and how much Eve missed living by the beach. Windows lined the entire dining area with a spectacular view of the ocean from any seat in the house. The muted sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside merged with the soft melody of a live piano playing somewhere off in the bar area.
“This is beautiful.” Eve sat and moved into the booth.
He slid in beside her and tapped the outside of her thigh, signaling her to slide farther towards the center. “I knew you’d like it.”
The hostess handed them menus. “Your waitress will be with you shortly. Enjoy your dinner.” She moved away from the table.
Jake covered Eve’s hand under the table and threaded his fingers with hers. “Stop shaking.”
Eve flashed him that smile reserved only for him. Her look, coupled with the pretty flush of her cheeks had his cock already straining against the metal zipper of his pants.
“You’d think your effect on me after knowing you for twenty-three years would have waned a bit,” she said.
She let go of his hand, unrolled the silverware, set it perfectly in place, laid the cloth napkin on her lap, meticulously forming a perfect square and smoothing out the creases.
“It better not have. Besides, I was gone sixteen of those years.”
Shadows flashed across her eyes and gut checked him. He hated whatever had happened in her life during his absence that had extinguished the spark—the appetite for life—she’d always had before he’d tracked her down a year ago. Those experiences in a life that fuck a person up from the inside out—the things that scar and change a person from one you’ve always known to a shell of their former selves. Those things had damaged her radiance. He wanted so much to be the one to give that back to her.
Eve was like sunlight. Her smile alone could light up an entire room.
“Easy, baby,” he soothed, trying to r
elax her. “We’re just another couple having dinner.” He caressed slow circles on her hand with his thumb, attempting to calm her with every pass, every caress. So in tune with her, Jake gave her a minute to settle down. “You’re not driving tonight. Have a drink. What do you feel like?” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers, biting the tip of her middle one, before letting her hand go, so she could check out the drink menu. “Vodka...you like Vodka. Chick drinks. Bay Breeze?”
“You know I can’t really drink. Besides, the last time I drank was with you.” She opened the dinner menu, a deep rose color staining her cheeks. “Look what happened then.” Intentionally avoiding his stare, Eve scanned the menu up and down.
Oh…he knew exactly what happened the last time they’d drank together. It was an ever present feature in his fucked up fantasies starring her. Eve was an adorable lightweight. She’d had two strawberry margaritas, just enough to blur those ever present inhibitions that clung to her like a second skin, and she’d finally let her inner seductress breathe a little. After the restaurant, he’d found the closest hotel room in sight. They’d had each other’s clothes nearly ripped the fuck off, within seconds of him kicking the door shut and slamming her up against it.
Tonight would end in a hotel room too, but this time he wasn’t leaving. This time they would have all night—no rushing, no responsibilities, no separate lives. Nope. Tonight, he wouldn’t be forced to leave her crying at the door or by the side of his truck as he drove away—a sight that haunted him to the point he would call and talk to her on his drive home no matter how far away he was. Yep. Only each other tonight...the way it could have been if fate hadn’t been such a vicious bitch.
He hoped tonight he could finally get her to sleep at least a little while. The only time she rested seemed to be when he was with her, when he held her. She was a terrible insomniac. When the nightmares ripped him out of whatever fitful sleep he managed, he would text her at all hours of the early morning and she was always awake. Not tonight. But first, he needed her to relax.
“One drink. It’ll settle you down.”
The waitress approached, greeting them. “How are you both doing? My name’s Shelly and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with a drink? Soda, wine? Something a little stronger?” She raised an eyebrow and winked at Eve.
Eve smiled at her and exhaled with an affirmative nod. “You sold me. I’ll have a Strawberry margarita.”
Shelly wrote the order down. “One of my faves. Our bartender rocks, hon. And you sir?”
“Maker’s Mark, Old Fashioned.”
“You got it, folks. Be right back with those.”
Eve shook her head and chuckled quietly. “I can never seem to say no to you.”
He laughed aloud. “You say no to me all the time. Even when I know you don’t want to, but not tonight.” He intentionally let the sentence hang.
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“What looks good to you?” Jake ignored her question, focusing on the entree section of the menu. He knew as much as her control freak side wanted to know what he was thinking, the not knowing allowed her a sense of freedom. Eve wouldn’t admit it, but his unpredictability pushed her to a place where she felt safe to release her deep inner self, the one she kept locked up tight from the rest of the world.
“Breathe, honey,” he urged without looking at her.
Flustered, she shook out the menu.
He hid the smirk pushing at his lips. Everything about Eve drew him to her, called to him on a cellular level. Made him want to push her boundaries further and further every time he saw her.
If only he could rewind the clock...
As the waitress set their drinks down, he gave her the appetizer order. She headed to the kitchen and Jake turned to Eve. “How’s your dissertation going? Your defense is coming up quick.” He moved the drink in front of her by the base of the goblet.
She lifted the glass and took a sip, some of the sugar remained on her full lips.
When she reached for the napkin, he shackled her wrist and pulled her to him.
“Babe!” Her eyes nervously darted around the room. “Um, we’re in public.”
“Where nobody knows us.” Jake reached a hand around the nape of her neck and leaned into her, their lips centimeters apart. The intoxicating smell of strawberries and tequila mixed with her spearmint gum. He stared at her lips for a few seconds, building the anticipation. He let the energy between them wash over him—the hot singe burning through him right before he took her mouth, the natural fresh scent of her skin which intensified when she was aroused. Slowly, he leaned forward to take her lower lip between his, licking the remaining sugar granules and pulling away as her eyes closed.
Shaking her head, she sat back.
Jake dropped his hand from the nape of her neck to the top of her left thigh. Her sharp gasp alerting him she was right where he wanted her—on edge and needy. Eve responded to him like nobody else. His touch, his voice alone got her wet and that was a serious fucking turn on.
“The dissertation?” He reminded her as he went back to studying the menu. Keeping his hand on her leg, he ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh over her dress. The silky material bunched beneath his fingers with every stroke, pulling it higher up her thigh.
“Oh,” she answered distracted. “Good. It’s going good. I defend in two weeks and have to be in New York three weeks later.”
Reality left them both speechless for a minute.
“And the book?” He needed to keep her focused on them or she might mentally disappear on him.
“It’s more notes. I don’t think I’ll have time.”
“Drink, baby,” he suggested.
She lifted the glass and took a long swig.
He scoffed. “Nice. You might want to slow down a bit.”
“Right?” She laughed nervously and set the glass back down. “I’m an academic writer, so I don’t really think of it as a book—more an epic, cathartic journal entry. Besides, the dissertation has to come first, because of the Postdoc obviously, but if I were to write something outside of academia, I’d have a lot to change.” With a small shiver, she tuned to stare across the dining room.
While he allowed her that small retreat, he kept the pressure on her leg steady.
“Whatever you decide to do, if you went that way, writing us, I wish you didn’t have to change any of it.”
The muscles under her smooth skin jumped as he slowly gathered more material in his hand and nudged her napkin to the side with a careless sweep of his fingers.
“You know I’d have to.” She took another drink.
“I do.” It was true, so what could he say? He hated that she’d have to change a single fucking thing. After her dissertation defense, she was playing with the idea of writing their story as a break before her Postdoc started fall semester, and though she’d never admit it to him, as a way for her to cope with the inevitable. While tragic, their history, their story, was as beautiful as it was fucked up.
But they were here now, and tonight, he would only allow her to focus on them.
No past. No future. Only present.
Jake dragged the dress a bit higher up her leg.
“Chicken. I’ll have the rotisserie chicken. What about you?” Eve’s cheeks flushed from the alcohol and his hand steadily bunching the skirt on her dress higher up her leg.
He was almost at her upper thigh. She had the softest fucking skin.
“Forget it.” She grinned and shook her head. “I already know. Steak.”
“Humph,” he scoffed. “What else?”
“You’re a frightening carnivore. You need to eat better.”
“I’m dialed.” He finally reached the very top of her thigh.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Babe—what are you doing?” Eve whispered, her
eyes jumping to the tables around theirs, checking if anyone was watching them.
“The tablecloth is way below your legs.”
“How do you know that?” She jerked away from him.
“When we walked in.” He pushed his hand in between her thighs, sliding her back over to him. “Have I told you how much I love your mouth?”
Eve’s face flamed brighter, but she ignored his comment. “You noticed the tablecloth on this specific booth when we walked in the door?”
“I notice everything. Now...you were saying?” Skimming his fingers down her exposed inner thigh, he squeezed and rubbed until he felt the tension flow out of her muscles.
Her eyelids dropped the slightest bit. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?” She tried to sit up straighter as the waitress approached from across the room. Her hand fell on top of his.
“Both hands on the table, baby.”
At the directive, her head snapped to him.
“Just order.”
“I can’t order with your hand between my legs.” She kept her voice low.
“Sure you can. And my hand isn’t between your legs. Yet...” He pushed the end of the dress up to her hips as their waitress walked up.
Eve inhaled quickly and gripped the menu tighter.
“Would you like to hear the specials?” the server asked, glancing between them.
“I think we’re good.” Jake turned to Eve with a smirk. “Ladies first.”
Clearing her throat, Eve smiled up at the waitress. “I’ll have the rotisserie chicken with garlic mashed potatoes, please.”
He slipped his fingers just underneath the bunched material of her dress pooled at juncture of her thigh.
Eve sucked in her breath and fidgeted.
Squeezing her leg hard, he held her in place. He watched Shelly try to stop the smile spreading across her face and he almost laughed at the bright red staining Eve’s neck and face.
“Soup or salad with that, Ma’am?”
Eve started. “Um—salad please. With balsamic dressing.”
Twenty-Four Hours (Shattered Boundaries Book 1) Page 1