by S. M. West
Love Block
S.M. West
Love Lock Duet, Book 1
Contents
Playlist
1. Drew
2. Pippa
3. Drew
4. Pippa
5. Drew
6. Pippa
7. Drew
8. Pippa
9. Drew
10. Pippa
11. Drew
12. Pippa
13. Drew
14. Pippa
15. Drew
16. Pippa
Note to Readers
Other Books by S.M. West
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by SM West
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, storylines, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.
This book is for your personal enjoyment only. Please respect the author’s work by not contributing to piracy and purchasing a copy for those you wish to share it with.
Cover Design by:
PopKitty Design
Edited by:
Leanne Rabesa
Maria Rosera
Proofed by:
Melinda Utendorf
Cover Photo:
Lindee Robinson Photography
Cover Models:
Brian Boynton
Krista Lauren
Playlist
Listen On Spotify (http://bit.ly/LOVEBLOCK_WEST)
“1234” - Feist
“Home for a Rest” – Spirit of the West
“Hard Road” – Sam Roberts
“Saturday Night” – Yukon Blonde
“Wicked Games” – The Weekend
“Adult Diversion” – Alvvays
“Push + Pull” – July Talk
“Sweet Jane” – The Cowboy Junkies
“Courage” – The Tragically Hip
“One Dance” – Drake, WizKid, Kyla
“Pick Me Up” - Hollerado
“Love the Way You Are” – Yukon Blonde
Find some inspiration for LOVE BLOCK on Pinterest (https://www.pinterest.ca/smwestwrites/love-block/)
“In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said.” ~ Pablo Neruda
1
Drew
“Holy shit, you’re really doing this adult thing, aren’t you?” Finn clinks his shot glass with mine and sticky amber liquid spills over the sides onto my fingers.
Sugary caramel flavors invade my senses as I bring the glass to my lips, and the Canadian whiskey slides smoothly down my throat, heat nipping at my gut.
“You know you’re old when you buy property and shit, right?” He licks his upper lip. “First a condo, and now a cottage. Damn, just talking about all that responsibility makes me queasy.”
Ken snickers at my side, and despite Finn’s intention, I accept his jab as praise. Praise for a dream come true. They can take all the pot shots they want, I have no regrets.
“You’ve got to grow up sometime. A cottage isn’t exactly a burden.” A wide, goofy grin steals my face.
Pretty soon their sorry asses will be begging to crash at my cottage from the Victoria Day long weekend in May—also referred to as May two-four, which marks the beginning of cottage season, blackflies, and summer—to Thanksgiving. Who’ll be laughing then?
Friday night with the guys comes with lots of ribbing, lots of laughing, and lots of cold ones. Tonight’s no different, except we’re celebrating more than the end of the work week. We’re celebrating my new cottage in Muskoka. Well, it’s not new, rather old actually. A fixer-upper that cost a fucking fortune. But it’s mine and totally worth it.
“Nah, not ready to grow up quite yet. My mom’s pestering me about when I’m gonna propose to Cass. That’s enough stress.” He shivers mockingly but ends up looking like he’s having a seizure.
Finn Raine is a liar. I’ve known him since we were in diapers—our mothers are best friends—and Cassandra Donnelly is his high school sweetheart. Nothing about marrying her causes him undue stress.
“And when are you gonna pop the question?” Ken, another buddy from our high school days, asks about what most would call the ultimate commitment—marriage.
“Not any time soon.”
Full of shit. He’s counting the days, literally, until Cass graduates with her Ph.D. to get down on his bended knee. He already has the ring.
Cupping my mouth with my hand, I fake-cough, “Bullshit,” and elbow him in the ribs.
“Shut it.” Finn shoves my arm. “What’s that you said? Another round on you?”
Tipping my head back, I laugh hard, my insides heating from our usual spirited banter, the top shelf liquor, or both.
“You’re in luck. I’m in a good mood. One more round on me, asshole.”
The guys whoop and whistle and bang their fists on the bar. That gets the attention of not only the bartender but half the room. Heads spin toward the ruckus, including a cute blonde a few seats down from us.
She licks her lips, her hunger growing the longer I hold her gaze. If I wanted, we’d be fucking in under thirty minutes.
I don’t.
Our beers arrive, and I take a long pull of the cold, frothy lager. Finn called it. At twenty-nine, I’m an adult, already wading through burgeoning responsibility as a criminal lawyer and the proud owner of not one but two properties. All I need now is a woman to share my life.
Like bitter February flurries in Toronto, my spine freezes, ripples of frost spreading through me. Where the hell did that thought come from?
There isn’t a woman in my life or any prospects on the horizon. Marriage is a long way off. Came close with Scarlett, my girlfriend of two years, but we split six months ago. The break was amicable and mutual.
Some days I miss her, some days I don’t, and some days I can’t make sense of what happened. Even still, if she were here right now wanting to get back together, I’m not sure that’s what I’d want.
Since then, I’ve had a couple one-night stands—more out of habit than desire. Enough to realize I’m done with meaningless hookups.
The blonde smiles again, and Finn notices, winking suggestively as if I need his approval or permission.
“I’m gonna piss, and then I’m out. Go make your move, bud.” He slaps my shoulder like a coach boosting his player before sending him onto the field.
He vacates his stool, and I ignore him, signalling the bartender to settle my bill.
“Ken, I’m gone too.”
I take out my card as the bartender nears with the machine.
“Sure. I’ll see you later this week.”
Ken swigs the last of his drink and scans the crowd, on the hunt. The guy thinks with his dick. As I head out, I find Finn leaning against the wall by the entrance, with a shit-eating grin swallowing his features. The idiot was waiting for me, hoping I’d score. His eyebrows climb to his hairline at my solo exit.
“Where’s the chic
k?” Both shoulders rise, his hands out, palms up.
I brush past him, out the door, and into the balmy May night. He follows, bewildered. “But she wanted in your pants.”
“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” I’m bored with this conversation.
“What? Since when does that have anything to do with a quick fuck?”
“Not interested.” I yawn.
“The fuck?” He grabs my shoulder, twisting me to face him. “Who the fuck are you, and what did you do with Drew?”
I chuckle. This guy can be a diva. He’s been with Cass for eleven years and lives the bachelor life through Ken and me. He’s beyond dramatic if we pass up a hookup.
“I’m done with the one-night stands.” This isn’t news. We’ve had this chat.
I keep walking, but he’s rooted to the sidewalk, puzzled. My building is a block away, and I can’t get there fast enough. The insanity of my workload is finally hitting me. I’ve worked my ass off the past few weeks, knowing I’d be away for the next two.
Sleep would be an awesome way to spend the weekend, making up for the long hours I’ve been putting in, but sleep has to wait. There’s too much to do.
“You’re crazy, asshole. Get back there,” Finn orders like this is life or death. Idiot. “The blonde was hot.”
“Don’t bust my balls.” Not interested. Blondes aren’t my type.
Bold-faced lie.
Only one blonde kicks my heart rate into overdrive, twists my insides, and brings me to my knees.
Pippa Raine.
Finn’s younger sister.
Sexy spitfire and off limits.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did I even go there? She’s not only Finn’s sister, she’s my younger sister Paige’s best friend. She’s family.
Not to mention Finn has made it abundantly clear that if I so much as think about making a move on Pippa, he’ll chop off my nuts and feed them to me.
Ouch. My hand involuntarily slides into my pocket and adjusts my junk. All good.
“You’re fucking dumb,” Finn pants, winded from the few feet of jogging.
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” I quip, opening the door to my building. “You crashing here, or what?”
“Nah. I’m the smart one. Cass is waiting for me. I’m getting laid tonight. Later, loser.” He pulls out his phone for an Uber.
“Whatever,” I chuckle, holding my thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an L.
“I’ll come up next weekend with Cass, and maybe my parents, Pip, or the rest of the brood will come.” He barely glances up from his phone.
Finn has three siblings: Pippa, Claire, and Tom. While I’ve known all of them their entire lives and we’re like family, only one of them is a problem. And if she shows up next weekend, I’m done for.
I sizzle with thoughts of Pippa. I’m a stick of dynamite, and she’s the flame. Ignite, blaze, combust.
That’s why I’ve stayed away.
It’s been well over a year since I’ve seen her. My avoidance was intentional. If I was going to keep my relationships with Scarlett, Finn, and my family, I had to end all contact. But now, with just a mention, I want to see her. Not a good idea.
“That’s cool, but don’t bother.” My voice is steady and uninterested, contradicting the small explosion going on in my chest. “Alec and Paige are coming, and Ken’s going to take a day or two. I’m good, thanks.”
“All right.” He’s engrossed in his phone.
The need to sleep has vanished, replaced by a wired edginess I know too well.
Pippa.
Finn had to say her name, and now I wonder what she’s been up to. I could ask Paige since they live together, but like my absence, my ignorance is deliberate. The less I know, the better. I don’t need the temptation. She’s the girl I can’t have.
And that’s the thing, isn’t it? She’s just a girl, and seeing her now might be different. She’s most probably over me and dating. Dammit. Why’d I have to think about Pippa with another guy? Now I want to punch something.
The gym. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll unwind with exercise and exhaust myself.
Sleep does eventually come, but it’s restless with dreams of a sexy blonde bombshell with the bluest eyes, the longest legs, and the sweetest smile.
2
Pippa
My boobs burn as if a million red ants are burrowing into my flesh, my nerve endings ablaze.
“Mother-eff!” I toss the paintball gun in the air and use my now free hands to fan my cleavage like a brainless chicken trying to take flight. But eventually, my arms collapse under the fiery weight of my futility.
“You okay?” A leer strains Cole’s expression.
It’s to be expected. I have bested him one too many times to count. It’s obvious he won. The guys won for the first time—ever. But he doesn’t trust it. He’s a sore loser and, judging by his expression, a sore winner too. The brash yellow paint splattered all over the front of me is proof enough.
“Seriously? No need to be a heartless bastard. You’re the victor.” My aching chest squeezes every ounce of patience out of me.
“Fuck, Pip, you don’t need to be nasty.” He pinches his lips together.
My spine straightens like the barrel of an AK-47. I will blow him to pieces if he ticks me off any more than he already has. Following his eyeline, I dip my gaze to the paint now hardening on my chest.
It was a cheap shot. He snuck up on me and fired from not even four feet away. A shot to the arm or leg would have won him the game. But no, he went for the girls. Jerk.
“You could’ve got me anywhere but here.” My hands circle the yellow paint splashed across my boobs, and his eyes liquefy with excitement. “It hurts like a motherfucker, and I’ll bruise.” That’s what the prick intended.
“I’m sorry. It hurts?” he asks, sounding like a dick even if his tone is more clueless than disbelieving.
“You think?” Sarcasm drips from my lips.
Tony bursts from behind a large wooden structure in his camo gear with his rifle out front; Rambo ready to fire. What the hell is he doing? He’s been out for a while. I got him good in the thigh.
“Good game, guys,” he says, raising the paint gun in victory.
“Pip, you all right?” Paige clears the bushes from the other direction, sporting her own yellow battle scars.
Thick rivers of chocolate hair, wild and free, surround her petite frame. My best friend, we’ve been inseparable since we took our very first steps.
“I’ll live, but I may never produce milk.”
My blistering gaze scorches Cole, and he shrinks like he’s burned, arms protective over his chest. Tony and Paige laugh at him, and he joins them nervously.
“You didn’t have to hit her in the tits!” Tony punches Cole in the bicep, and Paige does the same to the other arm.
“Pippa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Cole raises his hand to my chest. Is he going to try to cop a feel?
“Back up, buddy.” I slap his impressively solid chest—the one that does nothing for me but would have most girls drooling.
He’s wanted in my pants for months, and today’s hit is probably payback for shooting down every one of his advances.
We head into the mess area where our friends are waiting, eager to deliver wisecracks or lewd comments about the shot to my chest. Assholes.
That’s it; the gloves are off. Next time their balls are fair game. Or maybe that’s too easy. I won’t actually hit the crown jewels but make them think I will.
My wicked laughter fills the room, and the guys, plus Paige and Ainsley—the only other girls—stop talking and stare at me quizzically.
“What’s so funny?” Ainsley asks, pouting at our loss. Can’t say I blame her.
In all the years we’ve been playing the guys, whether it’s darts, curling, hockey, football, or whatever, no matter the team I’m on, I always win. Being the loser is new, and I can’t say I like it.
“She’s planning her re
venge.” Paige hip-checks me, and we laugh. She knows me well.
Once showered and dressed, Paige and I say goodbye to the gang, heading home for our usual post-game ritual. Pajamas. Netflix. Thai.
“I can’t believe Drew owns a cottage,” Paige says out of nowhere, shifting the car into drive.
My heart jerks wildly like the odds-on favorite filly at the Kentucky Derby, eager to break from the gate.
Drew Hayes.
My best friend’s older brother and my brother’s closest friend is both my ultimate guy and the only one capable of breaking my heart. I can’t remember a time I didn’t love him.
I haven’t seen him in over a year, and as much as I’d love to lay eyes on him, what’s the point? He only ignores me or leaves if I’m near. And he’s got a girlfriend, Scarlett. His future wife.
My stomach aches.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Paige asks.
She’s going up north for the weekend to see her brother’s new place, and she’s excited. They adore each other despite their bickering and grilling.
“You know why.” I fiddle with my phone. “Drew wouldn’t want me there.”
For as long as I can remember, he’s wanted a cottage. He may be a do-good lawyer in tailored suits and all business, but he’s a hard-core outdoorsman. A cottage is perfect for him and I’m happy his dream has come true.
“We both know that’s a lie.” She glances my way at a red light. “He needs all the help he can get. Sam and my mom are in Montreal.”