Table of Contents
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
About the Author
Coming Soon!
Run
By Jennifer Vester
Copyright © 2017 by Jennifer Vester
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is intended for mature audiences only.
Cover design by: Marianne Nowicki www.PremadeEbookCoverShop.com
Author’s Webpage: https://vesterbooks.wixsite.com/jennifervester
Digital book(epub and mobi) produced by Booknook.biz.
Special Thanks
Thank you, Stephanie. For help, alcohol, counseling, and listening to my wild ramblings.
Also to Brenda for the incredible help and feedback!
My husband, for reading a romance story against his will.
And to all my crazy friends for your support and sense of humor.
Table of Contents
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
About the Author
Coming Soon!
Chapter One
I swung the big wooden doors of Stacks Bookstore wide and stepped out on to the sidewalk. The afternoon sun hit my face and I smiled. My day was finally done.
Work had been grueling, and I was more than a little tired. It felt like I had been stuck in a cave with vampires for hours. Not the sweet ones that you read about in romances, but the other ones, that drained you of your soul while they fed on you.
My co-workers really knew how to ruin a day. Those perfectly normal, well dressed women I worked with, could leech the soul out of a rock.
My stomach growled.
I had been awake since five in the morning, had a quick breakfast while getting dressed, and had rushed out the door. Then I had rushed back in the door to grab my planner. Lunch was still sitting on the counter in the apartment.
It was now four in the afternoon and my need for food was becoming a bit urgent.
Like h-angry urgent. And that was hungry and getting angry, because I was hungry. A little bitchy too. No one wanted to see me h-angry.
There were cars coming and going on the street. I walked quickly down the sidewalk, towards the corner to catch the light. The afternoon had a light breeze that played with the hairs against my neck. A car honked at someone as they passed along the street. People on the sidewalk seemed to be strolling and enjoying the sights of the neighborhood.
The nice thing about Stacks was that the original owner had, at some point, thought about the location of the store. In keeping with the nostalgia factor of the older part of the main strip, the store was built in the middle of a long stretch of cafes, pastry shops and coffee houses that had been around for ages.
As I walked, I took in a deep inhale of air and it filled my nose with some of the best scents ever to grace the food world. I was tempted to stop for a cream cheese Danish and my favorite coffee, but my waist wouldn’t thank me later.
“Have some willpower Liv,” I mumbled.
My pastry addiction struggle was real.
Last month, I had started parking on the third floor of a large garage that was two blocks away and around the corner. Stacks had a few parking spots for the managers in the back, but I found walking a little farther a pleasant change from my normal routine. If I lost a couple of pounds this summer, then all the better.
I wasn’t overweight, just had a lot of curves. Curvy boobs, curvy hips. If I had to admit it, I’d say I had a nice butt that filled out a pair of jeans well, but curvy didn’t seem to be the going trend on beauty lately. Like most women, I felt a little insecure about it.
My roommate totally disagreed with me on every point I brought up about my body. Julia always told me that I had a classic beauty, with a sexy figure and great eyes. She was my best friend though, so she was technically required to say those things.
I tried to avoid the cafes and eating out because I was on a budget and trying to eat healthier, but I was going to have to make an exception to my boycott today.
There was a nice bar and grill, that was tucked in between two large corporate buildings across from the courthouse. I was headed in that direction, even though I had only been in the place once. I felt a little out of place mingling with the business crowd that seemed to always be packed in there.
I made my way along another block and around the next corner, trying desperately to think about anything other than the cream cheese Danish at Sweet Treats Pastry Shop. It was always sticky with icing, sweet and one of my favorites since they made it locally.
My tastes buds were nearly on drool mode. No cafe, no Danish, no guilt.
Reaching the restaurant, I opened the glass door to Muse Bar and Grill. I stepped into the swanky environment filled with business people. Instantly, I felt very underdressed with my twenty dollar slacks and knock-off designer blouse.
It was busy as usual. There were people chattering in various conversations. The air was thick with the smell of perfume and liquor.
The wrap around bar on the right had a crowd around it, but the side and back rooms had seating in what I thought were probably real leather booths. It had mood lighting that somehow shut out the sidewalks and bustle of the city outside. The blue and black décor gave off the hint of luxury. From what I had heard from my roommate, it had a totally different feel at night with a clientele that bordered more on the eclectic. Julia had invited me a few times, but I hadn’t experienced it yet.
My funds were tight, but the prices were decent. If I was going to treat myself to something more than a sandwich at home, then I might as well splurge a little and feel like I went somewhere nice.
The brunette at the hostess stand smiled at me, without doing too much of a once over at my attire. I was wearing the pair of slacks I reserved for getting dirty in the back room, not the nice clothes I would wear on the sales floor. After a day of dust, they were dirtier than normal. My mascara was likely doing a slow slide off my face at this point, so I ran my finger under each eye.
“Hello, welcome to Muse. Are you here for a table or the bar?”
“It’s just me and would rather sit someplace in the back if you have a spot open.”
The brunette gave me a sympathetic look and checked her map. “I have one spot open, if you don’t mind that there’s a large table that’s being occupied with some business people. We generally try to keep the other tables empty, or just seat single diners back there when that group comes in every month.”
“That would be perfect. I’m just going to be eating before I head home, so I doubt they’ll even notice me.”
The girl gave me a puzzled look.
I smoothed down my tangled blonde hair in response. It was in a ponytail and probably had an inch of dust in it.
Normally, I would wear my hair down, but long hair had the tendency to get snagged on shelves or caught up in tape. I had literally taped it to a shipment last week when it had fallen over my shoulder, just as I had run the tape gun across a box. That had been embarrassing.
The stockroom had floor to ceiling industrial shelving, where incoming books of any category went to be back stock for the floor. There were two huge tables in the middle, where they received incoming shipments and scanned them into inventory. I had scanned, climbed ladders, dusted, chased after two bugs and had crawled on dusty shelves today, just to avoid going back to the office.
“Okay just follow me please.” The hostess grabbed a menu and headed to one of the furthest rooms from the door.
I followed behind her, weaving between tables, trying to put on my best act of nonchalance, and likely failing, but I was confident enough not to let my nervousness show.
Eventually, we reached one of the back rooms.
There was a group of five men sitting at a table in the middle of the room, talking back and forth. The most noticeable thing about them was that they all looked huge in their nice suits. Their physical presence was defined, and in sharp contrast to the patrons in the bar area. These men all looked like burly giants in comparison.
Body-builders, I thought. Or maybe genetically enhanced super soldiers, planning the invasion of a small country on their own.
By the look of them, it didn’t seem like the kind of business meeting I might have expected from this place, but it was clearly a meeting all the same. Hitman meeting perhaps?
The man at the head of the table had his back to me as we entered. We passed by the rest of the table on the way to the corner booth. There were notepads, laptops, and food all over the table. A couple of the men glanced at me as we walked by.
They all seemed to be giving deference to the man at the end, while throwing out numbers and updates of some sort. That, was why I didn’t necessarily want a corporate job. Even in this small city, it seemed far more stressful than what I wanted to deal with. A working lunch sounded terrible.
The brunette turned toward me when we reached a table at the back, and motioned to take a seat. “Your server’s name is Suzanne. She’ll be here in a minute.”
I slid into the leather booth she indicated. It could have seated ten people easily. I was thankful for the room though, and put my satchel on the glass table. Looking around, I noticed only four other people were seated at booths of similar size.
Opening the menu, I bit my lip while looking at the description of the steak and shrimp option. My stomach was a bottomless pit, screaming for steak.
There was a strange tingle at the side of my neck. A little tickle of awareness slid over my skin, like the feathery feel of a loose strand of hair. I shivered, and reached up to grab the stray strand, but found nothing.
Looking up and forward down the long table in the center of the room, my eyes found the man whose back had been turned to us when we entered. Blue eyes met mine in such an intense stare, I was momentarily stunned.
Wow. Just wow.
I blinked several times. Surely that man was a mirage.
He had a chiseled, square jaw with trimmed stubble. Dark brown, almost black hair styled a little long on top, but neatly cut. His broad shoulders and chest hinted at a muscled physique. His face showed no emotion, but I noticed a slight twitch at his jaw as he continued to stare at me.
All of the men at the table looked similar in size and appearance. Clean-cut, intense, muscular, and maybe even slightly dangerous, despite their suits and grooming. But the one at the end had captured my attention in a way that no other man had before.
In that moment, when our eyes were locked on each other, some primal part of my brain went into heat and overloaded. The man was built like a bear and looked like some Greek hero, sent to torment the female species.
My thoughts were jumbled, and I could feel my cheeks start burning the longer he looked at me. I thought I heard him growl.
It was probably my stomach.
Ducking back behind my menu, I tried desperately to rein in my raging imagination and think more clearly. There was a chuckle coming from his general direction.
I peeked over the top of the menu. My waitress was making a beeline for me around their table, and it occurred to me that I had two choices.
First choice, flee, run, get the hell out of there.
Second choice, sit red-faced for who knows how long, waiting on my food. Then eat my food while still being red-faced. Then maybe just gnaw on my food while trying to control the saliva coming out of my mouth as I drooled over the growler.
Damnit.
The waitress gave me a wide smile as she approached.
I could tell she didn’t mind the furtive glances coming from the men at the table as she walked by them. She was about my height and had a swing to her ample hips that seemed playful yet practiced.
“So, have you decided what you would like to eat?”
“Uhm.”
“If you need some more time, I can come back.”
That was the last thing I needed. I turned on my best smile for the woman.
“To be honest, I think I’ll just get something to go. I forgot I needed to get home early, but I just couldn’t help stopping in. Can you recommend something?”
The waitress was more than happy to help. Five minutes later, there was a Monterey Cheeseburger in the works, with a promise that it would be done in twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of avoiding looking at that man. Twenty.
Tapping my fingers on the table, I looked over at him. He must have felt it and deliberately turned his head to look at me. One of his eyebrows lifted.
Ah hell. The eyebrow look. Some guys had it, some didn’t. He definitely did.
I turned away and pulled out my phone and wallet. I put twenty-five dollars on the table for taking up a seat that, no doubt, could have brought my waitress more money than my to-go burger would. At least I was prepared to run once the food was ready.
That awareness from earlier crept back over my skin, and I avidly buried myself in scrolling through my social media account.
I reached up and started twirling a loose strand of hair around my finger. It was my attempt at distracting myself from those warm tingles on my neck, but it wasn’t working.
Flipping through screens on my phone, I really didn’t read much of it. Then I opened my email account. Again, I scanned my emails but didn’t really read them.
My mind was mainly concentrated on not looking at the growler. Meanwhile, my hormones were urging me not only to look, but also to drool profusely, while absurdly trying to look sexy.
Stupid hormones.
A small frown slipped over my face as I noticed an email from my ex-boyfriend. I was going to ignore it and get to it later. It would just tick me off, and I was already ticked off that my strategy of ignoring him hadn’t seemed to break him of writing emails or texting.
He unfortunately, had been my one and only boyfriend in college. He had been overly charming and charismatic when we had met. I had thought at the time, that I might have even been in love with him. He had been older by a couple of years, seemed to be dedicated to his studie
s at first and was a good-looking guy. I had fallen for his whole act pretty quickly. But after a year of dating, he tried to pressure me into things I didn’t want to do and things had gotten ugly.
I had walked away after a particularly cruel encounter with him. It had been two years since I had seen him. Two long years filled with therapy over what he’d done, and for the entirety of that time, he’d continued to contact me.
My annoyance with his emails had increased recently as he tried to rectify a relationship that I knew was toxic. I had replied in the beginning but stopped when I began to see the manipulation for what it was. Therapy had been good for self-discovery and learning. I still missed the nice guy that I thought he had been when we had first met though. I knew that required some time to get over. Distance was the key. But he wasn’t getting the hint.
Just another load on my shoulders today. Don’t open it. Resist.
The waitress was back early with the food in a bag.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay, hon? We have a really great drink menu and our desserts are to die for.”
I considered that for a moment while glancing around the waitress. The gorgeous man at the table was distracted, busily typing something on his laptop.
Suzanne lowered her voice to talk. “You know, those guys will probably take off out of here in a few. They’ve been here for about an hour and I think they’re finally wrapping up. My boss is over there and he never sits anywhere for very long.”
Eyeing the testosterone filled table again, I said, “Which one is your boss?”
“Cade. The guy with his sleeves rolled up. Dark hair. Frown on his face. Pain in my ass. Once a month, same meeting and I always get stuck in here.”
I saw the person she was referring to but it wasn’t the man I had been curious about. “Oh. It’s not that, I’ve just had a really long, mostly terrible day. I’m looking forward to a bath, some wine and reading a book on the couch. Plus, I feel a little underdressed for this place at the moment, and I’m really dirty from work.”
Suzanne surprised me by taking a seat in the booth. Was that normal?
Run (Lakefield Book 1) Page 1