All & Nothing (The Broadway Series Book 1)

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All & Nothing (The Broadway Series Book 1) Page 2

by Allie York


  “I missed you.” Amelia dropped her head on my shoulder. My sweet baby sister made life worth living. “Anything fun happen while I was gone?” I shrugged and told her about Clark eating the carpet and how his new training schedule was going to go. I briefly mentioned Jovie, but not enough to make her start on her crusade to find me the perfect mate. “Know what I need? The Lost Savant!” she looked at me eagerly, bouncing enough to jiggle the swing. I groaned, mimicking her eye roll, and let her pull me out of the swing.

  JOVIE

  I managed to get my lazy self out of bed and dressed well before the church crowd the next morning. Studying the gray streaking through my brown hair, I made a mental note to grab some hair dye. Nearly thirty and no love life did not give me a free pass to look sixty. I sat at the vanity Grams had insisted on buying me at an antique shop after Davis and I got married, taking in my appearance. The freckles across my nose were starting to pop more since it was spring and I was training and writing outside instead of holed up in the house. Anything below sixty-five degrees meant I was inside, but March had been a hospitable seventy from the beginning. I tossed on my “Book Nerd” t-shirt and a pair of leggings before throwing my backpack over my shoulder. Merlin was waiting by the door, ready for our usual Sunday stroll to The Lost Savant. It was a tiny little coffee and tea shop with the best hummus in existence, and it was owned by one of my favorite clients.

  Merlin and I had just settled down at a wrought iron table when Sam appeared with my usual coffee blend in a carafe and a cup of creamer. I thanked him and opened my Barbie-pink laptop. Merlin collapsed at my feet and groaned loudly, like the three blocks we walked had exhausted him. I glanced around before I put my ear buds in to blast David Bowie and write something—anything. Aside from one couple inside, I had the place to myself. No screaming kids at nearby tables, no phone calls, and no clients giving me half-ass excuses as to why their dog was still disobedient. There was also no insanely sexy British man making it impossible to sleep. His level of hot made it hard to be angry about his dog’s terrible behavior or really anything else. Ewan’s eyes, accent, and body made it difficult to concentrate on anything other than not drooling. He was tall, with a well-groomed beard and dark hair. It all came down to him being sexy as all hell. And his accent when he said my name was panty-melting.

  I cracked my knuckles and started typing. The first thing that popped into my head was Ewan, of course. I wrote about the lithe muscles running down his forearms and the elegant way he walked. It was a cocky strut in some aspects, but it was also refined. I wrote about the cadence of his voice and how the accent added to the melody. I wrote about the tight, kinky curls covering Clark’s body and about how badly I wanted to beat Ewan when I met the dog. Then I wrote about my least favorite subject: Davis. That disaster had happened eight years ago. I had killed two birds with one stone that day. I also killed the part of me craving any part of social interaction. Hell, if you don’t have friends, they can’t fuck your husband. I had talked to other guys, and by talk I mean went on a maximum of two dates before I couldn’t stand it anymore. Merlin perked slightly from under the table, raising his nose in the air, and pulling me from my mind palace. It was what Nick and I called it when I was so deep in my writing zone that everything else vanished. A small salute to my BBC obsession.

  I panned the shop again but saw nothing that should have piqued Merlin’s interest, so I quickly went back to writing. When Merlin stood, his silky coat brushing my ankle, I tugged my ear buds out and looked around more closely. It was then I noticed the girl at the other end of the patio. Black curls framed her cute face and her thick-rimmed glasses set off the geek chic look she was going for. Skinny jeans, plaid button down, converse high-tops, and a book tucked under her arm. My book was tucked under her arm. I nearly sprang from my seat when I saw it, but forced myself to stay still. My heart threw itself anxiously at my ribcage. The girl was reading my book. She made eye contact, making me casually drop my eyes back to my laptop and pretend to type something else, but I knew I had been caught staring. Her entire face lit up, and I could see the blush through her taupe complexion as she moved hesitantly toward me. I gestured Merlin into a sitting position and forced myself to make eye contact. The girl couldn’t have been over sixteen, so technically my target audience, and I was giddy.

  Her eyes darted to the seat across from me. “May I?” With those two words alone, I could hear the lightest bit of an accent. Scottish, maybe? Am I suddenly a European magnet? Where has that superpower been my whole life? I gestured theatrically at the seat, and she plopped into it. “You are Jovie Reed.” Nope. The accent is definitely British. Not quite as thick and luxurious as Ewan’s, but still there under the East Tennessee influence. I nodded, and she shoved her much worn copy of Renegades at me. It was the hardback, first edition, and the dust cover was tattered. Only a few hardbacks had been put out, and the girl had read it to death. I couldn’t help but smile. I had done a few local signings, but the book had a pretty sad fan base. My writing the previous year had been okay at best, but published was published even if I had done it myself. “I know, it’s in rough shape.” The girl looked ashamed for loving the book well.

  I shook my head. “This may be the best compliment ever.” I handed her the book back. “I mean, it wouldn’t look like that if it wasn’t well-read.” Her face lit up again.

  “Can you sign it? My brother is seriously not going to believe I actually met you. I know the profile says you live in Tennessee, but you actually live near me.” The girl bounced at the edge of her seat, grinning like the Cheshire cat. I started digging for a pen in my backpack, shaking my head in complete disbelief. What were the odds of some mega fan finding me at The Lost Savant? Hell, what are the odds of a mega fan at all?

  “Name?” I took the book and flipped to the author page. It was still so foreign to see my name next to “by” on the cover of a book, a thick book at that.

  “Amelia. Oh, thank you so much!” She practically snatched the book from me when I offered it and ran her fingers over my signature. I nearly laughed. I did the same thing every time I got a book signed. “Can I ask you a couple of questions? I don’t want to bother you, but this opportunity is amazing.” I hated teenagers. I hated myself as a teen, I hated my sisters as teens, and I hated everything about random teens. But something about a girl wanting to talk about a book, my book, made me agree. I had barely nodded when she launched into an excited series of questions about the characters and plot line. Amelia wanted to know everything, and, despite being fifteen, asked deep questions. It didn’t take me long to start enjoying her conversation. We talked about scenes I had cut and follow up stories about minor characters. The conversation flowed slowly into other books and then the entire genre of young adult books. Her phone buzzed a few times, vibrating on the table, but Amelia ignored it. I absentmindedly stroked Merlin’s head, and we talked until someone cleared their throat next to our table. Before I could toss out a rude, “Can I help you?” I glanced up to see a familiar face and my heart did some crazy shit.

  Amelia sprang from her chair, nearly knocking it back, and grabbed his arm. “Ewan! Do you know who she is?” His hands were tucked in his pockets, and he grinned down at me.

  “Jovie.” He inclined his head toward me, and I felt heat creep up my face, accompanied by an awkward grin. My chest fluttered at his smile. What is he doing to me? I had certainly stared the night before, but the way Ewan looked at me made me crazy.

  “You know her?” Amelia hit him in the chest with my book, hard. “How do you know her? Why didn’t you tell me?” His sister was demanding; I liked it.

  “I don’t know her, Ams. We met yesterday evening, but I had no idea Jovie was the author you insisted you wanted to comb the state looking for.” Ewan caught my eyes as he said it. The sexy smile was even more stunning in the light. His skin was a warm light-brown, and the eyes I had thought were a chocolate were more mahogany with gold flecks. I blinked my gaze away from his when I r
ealized I was staring like a moron.

  “How many Jovies could possibly live in Tennessee, Ewan?” Amelia gave her brother a very teenage eye-roll, and he chuckled.

  “I hate to admit it, but I had no idea who wrote that book. Anyway, I called twice. Meeting your idol or not, you answer the phone.” Ewan pinned his sister with a paternal glare before moving his attention back to me. Amelia huffed. “It was nice to see you again, Jovie. And I hope to speak with you tomorrow?” It was more than nice to see him again. It had to be the good karma I had from helping him the night before. Not only did I get to look at him for a while, but I got to hear him say my name again.

  “Good to see you again, Ewan. And very nice to meet you, Amelia.” She practically shoved Ewan out of the way to hug me. I patted her back and watched as Ewan studied us over her shoulder. The heather-gray, V-neck shirt was tight across his chest and on his arms, and the gods must have made his jeans just for him. Damn. Amelia finally released me, and they both thanked me again. I watched them, well him, walk back throughthe glass double doors and then out of the shop. I found myself craning my neck to see over the stone wall and watched them climb into a European MINI Cooper Even his car was sexy. Suddenly, I was very much looking forward to training his incorrigible dog.

  I spent the better part of the day sitting in the same spot at The Lost Savant writing, reading, snacking, and not being interrupted by anyone. Until Nick called. My best friend insisted I meet him at the book store out west. I took Merlin home and rolled my windows down in the Honda. The air was the perfect temperature again, so it was windows down and music up. I found Nick easily in the sci-fi section at the book store. He wordlessly handed me a cup of coffee and kissed my head. Nick was a big guy—six three and mountainous. Even I had to admit he was hot. He dressed well, had a neatly-groomed beard, and was one of the few people I could tolerate on a regular basis. Nick obviously felt the same way because he had been with me through everything. Thus his “hetero-life-mate” status. I kind of wanted to tell him about Ewan, but he would read into it and then start into how bad I needed to get laid. It wasn’t worth it. I would spill all the details to Erica the next day; she would understand. Despite being happily married for fifteen years, Erica knew a hottie when she saw one.

  Nick and I ambled through the book store, talking about new authors, new books, and my next work of genius that may or may not ever be written. I ended the trip by spending entirely too much money on books that I would get around to reading eventually. My shelves were filling quickly, but hey, everyone collects something. My mantra was “It’s not hoarding if it’s books”. Nick and I parted ways despite living two doors apart, and I headed home. On the way, I contemplated how incredibly boring my life had become. I was almost six months from my thirtieth birthday and had accomplished a lot. I had a business degree, a business, my grooming and training certifications, a published book, and my own place. But when it came down to it, I had no legacy. I had nothing to pass on, no kids, no great work of literature. I loved working with dogs, it was my thing from a young age, but I wanted to write. Getting Renegades published had been the pinnacle of my life thus far, and the book hadn’t done well. My writing had improved, a lot, but I couldn’t seem to finish anything. Hell, even Nick was looking more accomplished than me at the moment. He and Rae were married, trying for a baby, and deliriously happy. There was omething to be said for happiness.

  Merlin and I took a different route on our walk; I didn’t particularly want to run into Clark and Ewan again. Or did I? I had always gone for the white and nerdy type guys. The safe ones with boring jobs, especially after my exotic first husband had decided to whore around. I almost couldn’t blame Kym for sleeping with him. Davis gave dark and handsome a new meaning, but he had married me, and she had married James. Davis was also an ass. I shook the thoughts from my head and focused on my busy schedule at work the next day.

  Chapter Three

  Ewan

  Jovie watched us over the wall as we pulled out of the parking lot, and Amelia cleared her throat, jerking me to attention. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, and I grumbled at her.

  “Isn’t Jovie pretty?” Amelia pulled her phone out to show me a picture of Jovie and me staring lustfully at each other. Little brat. “You should ask her out.”

  “I can’t believe you took a picture without her consent.” She took pictures constantly, but Amelia had stepped over a line. I ignored her match-making comment.

  “It’s a great shot! The profiles and lighting, it looks like you two are in love.” She shrugged innocently as we pulled in the driveway. “Maybe it’s fate that you saw her twice. I mean, how weird is it? She lives nearby, her book changed my life, and she was at our favorite tea place.” My sister handed me my drink over the car.

  “Can I read the book?” It fell out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  Amelia spun to face me, mouth hanging open dramatically. “Yes! And you can ask her out.” My sister narrowed her eyes, and I narrowed mine in return. I hated when she was right. I wanted to get to know her, I wanted to show her a good time, and I really wanted to see if her lips were as soft as they looked when she bit the bottom one. “What’s the worst she can say? Her face turned a pretty shade of red when you walked up.” Amelia was good at reading people. I walked around my sister, unlocking the door to let us in, and waited for her to follow me. “Ewan, I mean it—” Ams grabbed my shoulder “—even if you don’t live happily ever after, you can’t keep avoiding meeting people.” My little sister took my hand. “I know you are worried about what happens if you break up, but I’m almost sixteen. I can handle stuff.”

  I pulled out of her grip and let Clark out, jerking my head to have her follow me to the porch to sit in the hammock. “Fine. I admit it, Joive is really pretty and I would like to take her out.” I told Amelia about calling the next day to set up an appointment for Clark, but she shook her head.

  “Nope, lose the card and go see her. Ask her to go Tuesday night. I’ll go stay with Selene to work on our speech, and you won’t have to worry about me.” She patted my leg and pushed up off the hammock, not giving me a chance to argue. I was taking the next day off to deal with my floors anyway, so it really wouldn’t hurt to walk down there. I had obviously gone completely mad, but part of me didn’t care.

  I left Amelia to the laundry that evening when I walked Clark down the same route from the night before. I wanted to see her again, just for a moment. The idea that Jovie could be everything I was looking for crossed my mind. It was crazy, but I let the thought settle in my brain while I walked. There was no way it was a coincidence, running into her more than once had to mean something. While I didn’t believe in Divine intervention, I wasn’t about to let the irony be lost on me.

  I spent the better part of the next morning on the phone trying to get the carpet fixed. Rhett finally agreed to have a few men from his construction crew come over to do the job. In reality, six men showed up, helped me move everything from the room, and replaced the carpet. It only took a few hours, much better than if I hadn’t had Rhett on my short list of mates. I checked the calendar on the fridge before leaving. Amelia had a dental appointment the following Monday, so I would be off. The walk down to Jovie’s shop was completely nerve wracking. I was tense and fidgety, forcing me to hide my hands in my pockets. Asking women out had never bothered me before Darcy, but after her, I had quit looking all together. By the time I got to the door of the brick building, I had to remind myself that Amelia was right, the worst she could say was no, and at least I asked.

  Chapter Four

  Jovie

  Merlin and I went through our work routine the next morning. I cleaned crates, let dogs out, and chatted with Erica about the clients for the day while Merlin and Erica’s poodle, Lily, lounged around. Erica groomed dogs; I answered phones and cleaned up dog poo. The majority of my job was cleaning up someone’s or something’s mess. I didn’t know how to breech the Ewan subject without sounding too excit
ed or making him sound like a stalker. If I got overly excited, the teasing would start, and then I would get pissy. So, instead, we talked about her idiotic cousin getting arrested again and Mr. Creepy from the party. Then she brought up hiring another groomer since I was doing training full-time. I spent the better part of the morning coming up with an ad for the local grooming Facebook page and edited it at least a million times before posting. It was all another boring Monday until I was sweeping and the bell on the front door chimed. I shouted a, “Be right with you” as I grabbed the dust pan.

  “Take your time.” The accent hit me from around the corner and I froze, nearly dropping the dustpan. Erica raised an eyebrow at from the grooming table at my abrupt reaction. I propped the broom on the wall and peeked to the front to see Ewan standing with his hands in his pockets, rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels. His black polo was tucked into his khakis at his narrow waist, and I drooled a little as he studied both Erica’s and my certificates on the wall.

  “Hey.” I tried to sound casual when I said it, but I nearly had to force the word out. What is it about this guy? I brushed my bangs back in an attempt to make myself look less of a mess, but I doubted it worked. When you work with dogs, you never look presentable.

  He smiled sheepishly. “I washed your card. So, thought I would drop by.” Ewan shrugged and took a step toward the counter.

  “It’s fine.” I didn’t have to force my smile. I was genuinely glad to see him, and the heat between us was undeniable. Well, on my end, at least.

  “I’m off Monday of next week, could Clark get a groom then? Once he looks more presentable we can set up training.” I nodded and we went through getting his information and setting up a time. Ewan Alexander; he sounded like fricking royalty. I hated it, but I kept staring at him. Those full lips and dark eyes were mesmerizing. “Fantastic.” He smiled again and started toward the door. I watched him somewhat shamefully, undressing him with my eyes. My born-again-virgin status didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize. Erica rolled her eyes at me. Before Ewan pushed the door open, though, he turned back. I quickly dropped my gaze to the computer and pretended to type something.

 

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