by Anna Brooks
A chuckle locks in his throat, and he pushes off the wall. “I gathered that.”
“Jay told me you would be here this morning.” My voice is a little more accusatory than I would like, but I’m exhausted and just got the life scared out of me.
His eyes narrow on me at my tone. “I told him I’d be here at eight. It’s eight.”
“You meant at night?”
“Yeah.”
“He told me in the morning.”
He raises an eyebrow at my snarky tone. “He didn’t listen very well.”
As if on cue, my phone rings. I slide it out of my pocket but don’t miss the way Smith’s eyes trail down my legs and back up again.
“Hey,” I answer in greeting to my brother.
“Smith there?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry, Mel. He sent me a text a few minutes ago to let me know he was there, and I just saw your missed calls. I thought he meant eight in the morning.” His panicked voice makes me feel guilty. I hate he worries so much about me.
“It’s okay now. Let me call you later.”
We hang up, and as soon as I slide my phone back in my pocket, Smith’s chimes with a text. He slides his thumb across the screen and shakes his head before sending a quick reply. “Your brother’s threatening me.”
“He’s a bit protective.”
He clears his throat and shuffles his feet, before pointing his soulful dark orbs on me. “It’s okay. I’d be the same way with you.”
A weird buzzing floats in my stomach from the echo of his deep voice in the empty house. “You used to be his partner, right?” When Jay first became a police officer, I was young, but I remember him talking about his partner, Smith. Then one day, he never brought him up again, and I kind of forgot about him until Jay told me he’d be the one working on the house.
“Yep.”
I don’t miss the emotion that crosses his face and I change the subject again. “Well, here it is.” I twirl around and wave at the gross, nasty, dirty, falling apart house.
A whistle slides out of his mouth as he walks around and pushes against the wall, which sways under his weight. “He didn’t tell me it was this bad.”
“We didn’t know. The attorney wasn’t very forthcoming with information.”
I follow him around the house and try not to look at his firm butt and the way the tool belt around his waist is like an aphrodisiac. His commanding steps and easy swagger tell me he’s a confident man. His triceps flex under his short-sleeved hunter green t-shirt as he pulls up a corner of the carpet in the bedroom upstairs.
“Fuck, I only had four weeks set aside. I’ll need double that. This is gonna be almost a total tear down.”
“How much?” I already have preapproval from the bank, but I don’t want to go broke.
“Dunno yet.”
A yawn comes out of nowhere, and I reach up to cover my mouth. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He leads the way downstairs, and I force myself to look at the slightly long, dark brown hair on the top of his head, instead of ogling his butt.
“So what’s next?” I bend down to grab my purse from the floor, and when I stand up, Smith clears his throat before looking away.
“I need to get my crew in here, and we’ll start the demo. Once we strip it down, we’ll be able to get a better idea of the plumbing and electrical… But if the condition of the rotting wood is any indication, we’ll need to rewire and replace the pipes.”
Running my hands through my ratty blonde hair, I sigh. “When can you get started?”
“Monday.”
It’s Friday today, so that means I have the entire weekend to do nothing at the hotel. “Can I help and get started early?”
“Wouldn’t recommend it.” He nods at my hands. “Don’t want you hurtin’ yourself any worse.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Well, I’m leaving then. I need a shower, and I’m starved.”
“Where are you staying?” He follows me out of the house, and when I struggle to shut the door, he gently removes my hand and closes it with ease.
“Hotel down the street. I can’t exactly stay here.”
“No, you can’t.”
I spot his ginormous black truck on the street as I walk to my little silver coupe in the driveway.
“You wanna give me a key so I can get in on Monday?”
I bite my lip and turn to face him. “I only have the one. I’ll get a copy and meet you here Monday. What time?”
“Seven.”
“In the morning?” I tease.
He nods and steps backward toward his truck. “See you Monday, Mellie.”
* * *
My fingers are ready to fall off. I click save on the document I’m working on, email it back to my client, and then close my laptop with a relieved sigh. I only had a little to finish and wanted to get it to her promptly. My job as a freelance editor allows me to work whenever and wherever I want. Although I’m ahead of schedule, I’d still prefer to be back in my apartment at my own desk.
My legs are killing me. My back is sore from ripping out all that carpet earlier and now from leaning over on the stiff mattress to do my work. I know I need to get some food, so I put on a bra under my hoodie and throw on a pair of tennis shoes. No need to switch out of my ever-present yoga pants.
Since the hotel has no restaurant, I head down the street to the Chinese place I saw. It’s a little late, almost ten, and if it wasn’t on a busy street with a lot of light, I’d stay in and order a pizza. But I’m really craving sesame chicken. Plus, one of the downsides of my job is that I sit all day, and if I don’t force myself to move a little, I’ll turn into a blob. After about a block and a half, a door at the corner ahead swings open, and a woman stumbles out of the bar followed by a man who looks familiar, the only one I’ve met since I’ve been here.
Smith isn’t hard to recognize, even though he’s wearing a button-down instead of a t-shirt. I slow and pretend to tie my shoe, so I avoid running into him. As the cab they got in passes me, I make the mistake of looking over at the exact same time he glances at me. His eyes show no recognition, and I turn around and head back to the hotel... with no food. I’m suddenly not hungry anymore.
* * *
The next morning, I find myself frustrated and antsy. Even though I wouldn’t be doing anything at home, something about being in a hotel has me feeling claustrophobic. I head to the hardware store to make a copy of the key, and while I’m there, I get a pair of gloves, since I still plan to go to the house and rip up the carpet. I know Smith said I shouldn’t, but I can’t sit around and do nothing. Even if it’s not a lot, it’s still something, and I hope it makes a difference as to when I can go home.
I’m walking the aisles because I have nothing better to do, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as a breeze skims over my skin. The feeling of somebody watching me creeps up my spine, and I wait for a minute before I turn around to find an empty aisle. Of course.
Being scared all the time is a trait I’m working to overcome. I don’t trust anyone, didn’t even before it happened. Not only did I lose my innocence, but it also cost me friendships and relationships. Hence the reason I haven’t had a boyfriend or any new friends in over six years. Christ, I’m twenty-two. Nobody wants to hang out with a girl who’s afraid of the dark.
Walking to the restaurant was a big step for me. I want to prove to myself that I can do things on my own again. Prove to Jay that I’m capable. My brother can’t babysit me forever.
Supplies in hand, I stop at a drive-through on the way and sit in my car to eat before I go into the monstrosity of a house. At about nine twenty-five, I head inside and plug in my speaker dock then put some music on. This time, the gloves help when I’m ripping out the carpet, and I don’t stab myself once.
After tying the strips into rolls, I toss them in the backyard and then work on emptying the cabinets. There isn’t any large furniture, but I find plenty of junk. So far, I have filled seven
garbage bags and have at least another few to go.
I’m tossing another bag in the trashcan in the backyard when a man crosses the lawn. My eyes widen, and I back away, but he talks quickly. “I’m Dale. I live next door. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
“Oh, sorry.” I take off a glove and walk over to him to shake his hand. He holds on and looks into my eyes as I introduce myself. “I’m Mellicent. Everyone calls me Mellie, though.”
“Nice to meet you.” His light green eyes continue gazing into mine. “So you bought the place, huh?”
I pull my hand from his soft one and shake my head. “No, the owner left it to me. I’m just going to fix it up and sell it. Did you know him at all?”
“No. I rarely saw him, and when I did, he wasn’t the friendliest man.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that about him.”
He walks over to the door and looks inside. “You’re doing all the work yourself?”
“No, I have a contractor, but I wanted to get a jump on it.”
Without asking my permission, he steps inside the house. I wait out on the back patio as I take off my other glove and tuck them in my back pocket. No way in hell am I following him in.
I look at my phone in the speaker dock and wonder if I have time to grab it. He asks something from deeper inside the house, but I can’t understand him from way out here. I’m not going in that house alone with him; that’s like horror movie one-oh-one.
He appears again, holding a pliers in his hand. I can feel my eyes widening as he approaches me. I back up, trip over my own feet, and fall on my ass. He reaches down, and I scream, crawling away as fast as I can crab walk before I regain my bearings and run.
“Why are you running?” he asks as he follows me around the backyard.
I get to the corner of the house then turn to take off even faster but run into something hard.
“Whoa.” Smith’s voice rumbles against my ear, and my knees give out. “Mellie, what’s wrong?”
Footsteps sound behind me through the dry leaves, and I grip Smith’s shirt harder, finding comfort and security in a man I don’t even know.
He stiffens and wraps an arm around me. “The fuck?” he whispers to himself then raises his voice. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Dale. My wife and I live next door. I just introduced myself to her.”
I shiver at his voice, and Smith’s arm bands around me even tighter.
“Why are you chasing her with a damn pliers?” His anger makes me feel just a little bit safer. The fact that he doesn’t question me or act as if I’m overreacting is reassuring.
“I was taking a look around and wanted to ask her if this was the only tool she had to rip the staples out of the floor with. I’d offer her something better.”
His story sounds genuine. Well, hell, now I feel stupid. I loosen my grip and try to step away, but Smith doesn’t let me move.
“I think it’s best you head on home to your wife.” Smith’s aggressive tone is accusatory, and I try to push off him again, but he doesn’t let me. “Don’t,” he says against the top of my head.
“Sure. Sorry to scare you, Mellicent.”
The gate creaks when he walks through it, and I count to ten in my head to calm down. Smith turns me but keeps an arm over my shoulder and walks me inside. He looks around and shakes his head then puts his hands on my shoulders. Looking not at my eyes but into them, he asks, “Are you okay?”
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Acknowledgments
I have to thank my husband for his support. He’s been my rock during this process and it’s just one of the many reasons I love him. My boys, thanks for (kind of) leaving me alone when I needed to write. I love that you guys support me so big, and I’m so proud of both of you.
To my reader group, Anna’s Allies. You guys make my days so much fun, and I look forward to our games and love getting to know you all! Special shout out to Crystal, thank you for all of your hard work and dedication to the group and to me! <3
I have the best beta readers. THANK YOU to Nikki Belaire, Crystal Singer, Heather Carver, Nicole Richard, Nancy White, Elizabeth Himsworth, Shannon Ferguson, Kelly Lincoln, and Polly Brown. You guys have given me the best advice, and I appreciate you guys beyond words.
To those of you who are on my ARC team, you’re the bomb! Thanks for being so awesome!
I’ve dubbed these women the Dream Team, because they are the absolute best! Kari from Cover to Cover designs, Jenny from Editing 4 Indies, Bree from Vivid Words Editing, Stacey from Champagne Formats. Individually you are all outstanding, but when your talents are put together, it makes for a beautiful book. You guys are stuck with me forever.
My promotional team! Erin from Southern Belle Book Blog, Colleen from Itsy Bitsy Book Bits, and Heather from Social Butterfly PR. I can’t express how grateful I am to you guys. You make things so easy for me. Thank you.
Bloggers!!! There are so many, and I want to acknowledge a few. Amazeballs Book Addicts, Two Unruly Girls With A Romance Book Buzz, Through The Booking Glass, Sister Spot Book Blog, Itsy Bitsy Book Bits, Fiction Conviction Book Blog, and every single blogger that has taken the time to share, read, review. YOU are the real rock stars, and if I said thank you seventy-four thousand, five hundred twenty-three times, it wouldn’t be enough.
And last but not least… my readers. Without you, I couldn’t be me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for loving my stories.
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AUDIO:
It’s Kind Of Personal Series
Make Me Forget
Show Me How
Prove Me Right
Tell Me When
Remember Me Now
Give Me This
Pleasant Valley Series
Fixing Fate
Love, Me
Steady
Standalones
Not Your Hero
Easy Sacrifice
Bulletproof Butterfly
For bonus scenes, exclusive content, a freebie, and more, sign up for Anna’s mailing list
About the Author
The first time Anna tried to read a romance novel, her hair caught on fire when she leaned over a candle to sneak a peek at her mom’s Harlequin. She thinks being hit on the head with a shirtless Fabio until the smoke cleared is what sparked the flame for her love of romance.
Anna was born in Wisconsin, but lives in Texas with her husband and two boys. She writes sexy romance that always has a happy ending and loves bringing characters back for cameos. Less than six degrees of separation connects any of her novels.
When she’s not writing or reading, she’s watching reruns of her favorite romcoms, talking to her dog and cat like they’re human, eating carbs, or practicing hand lettering.
She loves to hear from readers and can be found on social media as @annabrooksauth everywhere, or you can contact her from her website annabrooksauthor.com/contact
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