Love and War
A Bad Boy Romance
by Annette Fields
Love and War
A Bad Boy Romance
by Annette Fields
Thanks for choosing to read Love and War! I hope you enjoy it. Sign up for my email list to get first dibs on new releases, freebies, and more!
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.
©2017, Annette Fields. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the author with the exception for a fair use excerpt for review and editorial purposes.This title is for adults only. It contains explicit sex acts, adult themes, and material that some folks may find offensive. Please keep out of reach of children.
Also By Annette Fields
Ball & Chain
Big Bad Boss
Beauty and the Bastard
Heavy Metal Heart
Table of Contents
Love and War
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
Thank you!
CHAPTER ONE
HAZEL
"Why so lonely, gorgeous?"
I swirled my whiskey around the quickly melting ice cubes in my glass, extremely tempted to throw the stinging amber liquid into the man's roaming eyes.
"I'm not lonely. I'm enjoying my solitude immensely," I told him, hoping he would take the hint while also trying to convince myself those words were true.
"I know something you'll enjoy a whole lot better," he replied with a wink.
His smile revealed a row of rotten teeth which nearly made me gag.
Unbelievable. This guy grew up down the street from me. Our moms were friends but his mother clearly never taught him the valuable lessons of brushing, flossing, and respecting someone's personal space.
"Seriously, Buck. I'm not in the mood." My voice grew stern, or as men like him called it, bitchy. But he was breathing down my neck with his nasty breath and I was done being polite.
"I just want to have a damn drink in peace."
A scowl crossed his pudgy face. "Well, damn, Hazel. No need to be such an uppity bitch. That high-maintenance, big city attitude won't get you anywhere around here."
With a huff, he finally turned on his heel and left.
Damn. Solitude really did feel a lot more enjoyable after dealing with that.
Harry's chuckle from across the bar revealed that he heard the entire conversation. The grizzled, old bar owner never missed a beat from washing glasses and mixing drinks but the slight smile through his gray Willie Nelson beard said it all.
"Thanks, Harry. I'll be here all week," I sighed as I took a long pull of whiskey.
"You'll be fightin' 'em away all night, darlin'," he said with fatherly affection. "Jus' let me know when you want me to start beatin' em away with a stick."
In spite of my absolute shitstorm of a week, I smiled. Harry was practically a father figure to me. When my brother Asher and I were toddlers, Dad would pick us up from our after-school activities and stop by Harry's Saloon for a quick beer.
Harry would sit us up on the bar and let us smell various bottles of alcohol. My favorite smell was the coconut rum. We'd stumble around when we got home, pretending to be drunk and Mom was pissed.
Good times. Simpler times.
As we got older, we learned about things like gender roles, traditions, and family expectations.
When Mom caught me kissing my first boyfriend on the cheek, she flipped her absolute shit. I sat through a screaming session that felt hours long about the dangers and sinfulness of any sexual contact before marriage. I wasn't allowed to date until I was eighteen and once I reached that point, I needed to find someone to marry and have kids with ASAP.
Honestly, it was par for the course parenting in our small, farming hometown of Cloverville, California. Tucked away in the Central Valley, only four hours away from San Francisco and yet so isolated from the real world. At least half of my graduating high school class never left home and settled down with their high school sweethearts.
But that kind of life never did sit well with Ash and I. We pushed boundaries, snuck around, and became the town's young rebels.
Ash did marry his high school sweetheart despite neither our parents nor the town ever supporting their relationship. Dahlia's mom was the town drunk and everyone figured she would end up the same. She gave a big "fuck you" to that sentiment by getting a business degree and opening an adorable flower shop that Cloverville couldn't live without at this point.
Now pregnant with our parents' first grandchild, they were relieved that she and Ash have fulfilled their duty.
As for me? I left for college in San Francisco at the first chance I got, landed my dream job after graduating, and became engaged to the wonderful man I met in school.
We moved into a small but gorgeous apartment in the sought-after neighborhood of North Beach and even adopted an adorable Yorkie named Sushi.
My mom raised a bit of hell over me becoming a career woman rather than getting married, but even she got off my back after my engagement. Life was pretty much perfect.
Until the marketing firm I worked for went bankrupt and I was let go with no notice or severance pay.
That was shocking and upsetting but with my experience, I knew I had a strong resume. I felt confident that I could pick myself up and find another job in a timely manner.
But what completely destroyed me, like pouring salt on my heart and intestines then throwing them in a blender, was coming home after being laid off to find my fiance fucking his coworker in our bed.
Actually, my bed. I bought it since I was the breadwinner in our relationship.
So in a nutshell, that was the story of how I ended up back in my dusty little hometown, drinking whiskey alone when I didn't have creepy men from my childhood breathing down my neck.
How did I get so far to fall so hard?
If everyone's version of rock bottom was different, this was certainly mine.
"Hey there, princess!"
And I wasn't about to climb out of it any time soon.
This guy at least had cleaner teeth than Buck but he smelled like a marijuana farm and fit the exact stereotype of a lazy stoner.
Red eyes, a scruffy beard, an oversized worn out T-shirt with a pot leaf on it and baggy jeans completed the charming look.
Unfortunately, my Medusa glare wasn't enough
to deter him in the slightest.
"Come on, now. What's wrong with a smile?" he pressed.
"Seriously. Not in the mood."
Or should I say, Seriously, what have I done to deserve this bullshit? Can I not just have a fucking drink out in public?
"Aw, you just need a little more booze in ya."
Without warning, his hand shot out to wrap around my waist before I could even think.
"What the fuck, dude!" I move to wiggle out of his grasp and whip around to look for Harry. He was nowhere to be seen.
"The fuck is wrong with you?"
His bloodshot eyes glowered down at me, freezing me in my tracks. In that moment, the paralyzing thought that crossed my mind that this man was dangerous.
I was less than a minute away from being dragged away and raped behind the bar.
"Is there a problem here?"
I turned to look at the speaker and my angry, stoned attacker suddenly didn't seem so scary.
The man who grabbed me only came up to this new guy's chin. The new stranger who approached was a huge wall of muscle that appeared like a flash out of nowhere. Rich, brown hair cut short on the sides, topped his head which stood taller than everyone at the bar.
His T-shirt stretched across a broad, sculpted chest and hugged large, powerful arms. Steely, piercing blue eyes bore holes into the stoner's bloodshot red ones. A tight scowl despite full, kissable lips was framed by a jaw and cheekbones that could cut glass.
He looked absolutely lethal and I couldn’t stop staring.
Time seemed to stand still as his image filled my gaze. All I could perceive were my heartbeats and shallow breaths in my chest.
"No! No problem here!" the stoner stammered, flashing a nervous smile as he released my waist and moved away from me as quickly as he could. "We were just messing around."
What the fuck?
"I don't even know you and you grabbed me!" I exclaimed. I wasn't sure how my voice returned to me but now that this handsome, powerful stranger was there to witness, I felt my strength return.
"I suggest you leave and don't ever come back to this bar," the stranger said in a low, menacing, and dare I say sexy, voice. "Unless you want to be arrested for assault as well as being over the legal limit on multiple substances."
"Alright, alright, man. We're cool." The stoner backed away, holding his hands up in a motion of surrender. "I was just on my way out."
He scurried away like a rodent with his tail between his legs and my savior turned his hypnotizing gaze to me.
"Are you okay?"
My strength disappeared again like it was sucked away with my breath from my body. His eyes were blue but they were dark. Not just in color but with a brooding darkness that seemed to wrap around this man like an ominous storm cloud.
But rather than scare me like the man who grabbed me, his darkness seemed to pull me in, drawing me closer to him like a magnet.
It didn't hurt that he was also the hottest man I ever saw. He fit tall, dark, and handsome down to the letter.
"Hey, miss. You okay?"
I blinked and his ocean-blue eyes were suddenly closer, filling in my vision. He leaned in to look at me directly in the eyes and even had a large, calloused hand on my shoulder.
It was a light touch but still felt heavy and warm. My body reacted to it as if waking up for the first time. I wanted to lean into his touch and direct it to other, more interesting places.
Holy shit, Hazel. Get a fucking grip.
"Yeah," I stammered, trying to focus on everything but his hand. His touch felt like it’s one purpose was to peel all my clothes off.
"Thanks for stepping in. Just a little shook up, I guess." I cracked a smile, praying I didn't come off as awkward as I felt.
He removed his fingers from my shoulder and his lips didn't return my smile. His jaw remained tight with tension.
"Do you want to press charges against that guy?"
"No." I shook my head. "I mean, it was over so fast. The police probably won't even take me seriously."
One of his dark eyebrows lifted. "It's your call but you might be surprised."
"I'm good, thanks." In an act that felt courageous, I returned his gaze and held it. "Thank you again for stepping in."
He nodded and just as quickly, turned his gaze and his body away from me. "Have a nice night, miss."
As he began walking back to his empty pub table, the loss of his imposing presence hit me like a slap in the face.
I couldn't explain why, we exchanged such few words, but I wanted more. More than the slightest glimpse of who this man was. I had taken a tiny peek into Pandora’s box and needed to know what else was inside.
"Hey," I called, propelling my feet after him. "Um, are you here with anyone?"
Of course he is, look at him. What a stupid question to ask.
He turned and regarded my question with a calm curiosity.
"No."
My heart soared victoriously and pounded with nervousness at the same time.
"I'm Hazel." I stuck out my hand.
"Liam." He accepted my hand in his with a gentle caress of my fingers. Like on my shoulder, his touch was light but firm and strangely erotic.
I took a deep breath to gather all my bravery.
"Can I buy you a drink, Liam? For saving my ass tonight?"
The corners of his mouth turned up into the slightest hint of a smile I'd seen so far. It added just a touch of softness to his face and overall rugged, dark demeanor.
"I don't let women buy me drinks," he said as he returned closer to me, standing right in front of me and piercing me to my spot with those eyes.
My heart thundered in my chest. Just standing next to him was like being on the roller coaster ride of my life.
"But I'll buy you one with the promise not to be desperate and creepy."
CHAPTER TWO
LIAM
Walk away now, Barnes. Don't even step one foot into this woman's life, said the rational part of my brain.
But hey, what’s one drink with a gorgeous woman?
All rationale went out the window when I offered to buy hers and she smiled with a "Sure," in response.
I ordered two whiskeys from Harry, then settled into the seat next to her.
For some reason, I yearned to touch her again but kept my forearms glued to the bar and my hands wrapped around my glass.
The woman just got assaulted, don't push your fucking luck, Barnes.
She caught my eye the moment she stepped into the bar. Long dark brown hair, bright green eyes and her crisp, tailored outfit that hugged her curves in all the right places and screamed city girl. Gorgeous as sin and just my type.
She also carried a chip on her shoulder the size of a city bus.
Being a cop allowed me to read people pretty easily and I knew from one glance that she was here to drown her sorrows about something.
Just like me.
Every other straight man in the bar noticed her too. Some returned their attention right back to their wives or girlfriends while others fluffed their peacock feathers and decided to approach her.
I couldn't help but laugh to myself when she turned down the first loser. The girl at least had standards.
While she sat on the barstool, my eyes lingered a bit too long on the curving line from her thigh to her ass to her waist.
Yanking my eyes up to a more appropriate place, I noticed up close she had a splattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. A pretty face with a bangin' body to match, which was a rare sight around here. She had to be a tourist from the city.
"So what brings you to Harry's Saloon, Hazel?" I asked as I took a sip of whiskey, trying to quell the hardening and excitement going on in my pants.
I didn't come here to hook up. I had my own sorrows to drown.
"Alcohol and the great company, obviously," she said sarcastically with another charming smile. "How about you, Liam? I'm surprised you're not coupled up like everyone else in here."
I’d never pretend that I didn't have my choice of women. My colleagues in the police department, high-powered lawyers I met in court, and even women I've arrested have made passes at me.
But none ever held a candle to her, the reason I came here alone to drink myself into a stupor. The girl I could never get back.
Actually if I had to compare, the closest would be Hazel. This gorgeous city girl I just met not five minutes ago and barely knew.
I felt dead inside for three years and just from a few exchanged words, Hazel made my body feel alive, reawakened and invigorated. I could hardly keep my cock from pressing on my zipper. The numbness from all the shots I took before she got here seemed to drift away. When I touched her skin, it felt like lightning passed through us.
What was going on?
"Just a random night off," I said, doing my best to sound nonchalant. "Didn't want to spend it cooped up at home."
That was somewhat true. Taking today off work was anything but random but she didn't need to hear what today meant to me. How it haunted me.
She smiled a bit coyly. "So there isn't anybody waiting for you at home?"
I returned her smile. "No, there isn't."
There used to be, but she's dead now.
For once, I didn't want to dwell on Katie's death today, the anniversary of that night. Normally it would be the only thing on my mind. But with this girl smiling and sitting pretty before me, I for once wanted to focus on her. On the living.
"Is there anyone in your life that would be upset by a strange man buying you a drink?" I asked.
Her pretty smile faded and the chip on her shoulder became glaringly obvious.
"No. It ended pretty recently, to be honest." Looking somewhere far away, she lifted her glass to her red kissable lips. "I guess that's the real reason why I'm here."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said sincerely. From what I could observe in her body language, she had been hurt badly. Whoever she was with ended their relationship in a real scumbag way.
Love and War: A Bad Boy Romance (Small Town Bad Boys Book 2) Page 1