Lone Hearts (Lines in the Sand Book 6)

by Lindsay Detwiler

  Lone Hearts

  A Lines in the Sand Novel

  Lindsay Detwiler

  Lone Hearts © 2020 by Lindsay Detwiler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Lone Hearts is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing.

  www.hottreepublishing.com

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Designer: BookSmith Design

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-922359-13-1

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-922359-14-8

  Contents

  Blurb

  1. Cash

  2. Cash

  3. Cash

  4. Sage

  5. Sage

  6. Cash

  7. Cash

  8. Sage

  9. Cash

  10. Cash

  11. Sage

  12. Sage

  13. Cash

  14. Sage

  15. Sage

  16. Cash

  17. Cash

  18. Sage

  19. Cash

  20. Sage

  21. Cash

  22. Sage

  23. Sage

  24. Cash

  25. Sage

  26. Sage

  27. Cash

  28. Sage

  29. Sage

  30. Cash

  31. Sage

  32. Cash

  33. Sage

  34. Sage

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Lindsay Detwiler

  About the Publisher

  More From Hot Tree Publishing

  Blurb

  Two can play... but can two win when it comes to love?

  A lawyer by day and a player by night, Cash Creed’s life in Texas is about one thing—living it up. When a tragedy in the family summons Cash to Ocean City for the summer, he’s excited about the possibility for hot new conquests and a no-rules kind of fun.

  Sage Everling, a self-made successful entrepreneur, is strong, sassy, and okay with loving them and leaving them. Too busy for serious love, her focus is on success… but that doesn’t mean she can’t have some fun from time to time.

  Two players spending the summer in a town focused on freedom and passion. When Sage’s and Cash’s paths cross, however, they both meet their match. As the summer progresses and their feelings intensify, both learn that playing for fun and playing for keeps are two very different games.

  Who will be conquered?

  To my husband

  One

  Cash

  She rolls off me, biting her lip in that come-hither way, my body still reveling in the sweet release as she sidles up to me underneath the sheets. Between the lingering effects of our sex and the buzz from the alcohol, I know for sure only one thing: This has got to be what heaven is like.

  I groan, rolling onto my side as she snuggles up to me, the warmth of her breasts against my back making me wonder if I could go another round.

  “Do you want me to stay?” she whispers in the seductive voice I’ve come to recognize but not love. At this exact moment, Killer kicks the bedroom door, whining and scratching. He snaps me to my senses because I almost said yes.

  Dogs are truly a man’s best friend.

  “Early morning tomorrow. New case. Sorry, Casey. Maybe next time.” I cuddle into the pillow and feel her exhale, her breath slapping against my back.

  “Fine,” she says, and I can sense the tension in her words. It’s nothing new. This is the dance we’ve been playing for the past two months, this dangerous but sexy game of passion and walls.

  I should feel bad, but the fact is—I’m a dick. I don’t feel one ounce of remorse. She’s known from the beginning what this was—sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Hot sex between two consenting adults.

  The problem is, no matter how much Casey denies it, I think she’s convinced she can pull the sweet, settled side of Cash Creed out of me. I think the business suits I wear by day, the lawyer face, and the professional confidence send her the message that I’m a man waiting to settle down. In her mind, she’s probably got us married off and living in the white house down the street from my parents, two kids in the front yard and Killer, my Jack Russell, traded in for a Lab. Two lawyers raising the perfect lawyerly family in the middle of the perfectly quaint town.

  The thought, although perhaps endearing, makes me want to gag. No freaking thanks. I’ve seen enough divorce cases come across my desk to know that love just doesn’t work out. But sex, well, sex always does.

  Almost always.

  “Goodnight,” I murmur, sitting up to watch her slink back into her clothes. “I’ll call you?”

  “Yeah, Cash. I’m sure you will,” she mumbles as she rushes out the bedroom door to let herself out of my apartment. I sigh. I feel a little bit like an asshole. Just a little bit. Plus, if word gets out at the office and Mama and Daddy hear how my professional relationship with one of their best attorneys isn’t exactly professional anymore—yep, my ass is toast.

  I might be a bit of a player and I might be twenty-six, but I’m a Texan boy through and through. I’m smart enough to know my mama can still kick my grown ass. I still sneak my sexual escapades around like I’m in the FBI. Woodville isn’t exactly population a million. It’s hard enough to keep a girlfriend secret in this place, let alone nightly romps with all the lawyers and professionals in town.

  What can I say? I have refined taste in women. And that refined taste just so happens to lead me to many of the women in our office. Not quite ethical or smart, perhaps. But thinking with my brain instead of—well, other things—has never been my strength.

  I lie back on my bed, Killer now jumping up with me. I think about kicking him down, the smell of sex and tension still palpable. He licks his paws, turns three circles, and plops down by my feet. I decide to let him stay. Hands behind my head, I stare up at the ceiling, thinking about basically nothing. Feeling basically nothing.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? What kind of an animal am I, acting like some frat boy? Maybe Mama and Daddy are right. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about settling down.

  But then I think about what that means. I think about the wild and reckless Levi, my brother, who has “settled down” despite all denials of it. Sure, he’s got a gorgeous girlfriend, and he seems pretty happy. Nevertheless, when I think of who he used to be and what kind of fun he used to have, I can’t help but feel a little bit bad for him. So much of him is lost, even if he won’t admit it, and that’s just not something I want.

  I have a good life. It might be a little bit of a rambling man who’s stuck in one small-town kind of life. It’s a life where I spend Saturday night sexing it up with a hot blonde and then sleeping it off with my dog licking his feet at the bottom of the bed. It’s the kind of life where I go to Mama’s on Sundays just so I can get some home-cooked food. It’s the kind of life where I’m surrounded by people but always a little bit alone.

  It�
�s probably the booze talking, I reassure myself. I’m always a bit of a depressed drunk. I turn back onto my side, closing my eyes and deciding to drift off. I can leave the psychobabble bullshit for another night. I’m wiped. And I really do have to be at the firm early tomorrow to finish up a discovery. Probably should get around to sleeping it off. Mom and Dad will be furious if they think I’m coming to work hungover. Of course, I’m basically a pro at hiding it at this point. What the hell else is the single life in your twenties for if it isn’t for partying and having a blast?

  I close my eyes, reassuring myself that I’m doing it all right, when my phone buzzes. I think about ignoring it, but then it keeps buzzing. Maybe it’s Casey. She probably forgot her key or something.

  Shit.

  I sit up, slapping the nightstand for the phone until I find it, unhooking it from its charger and unlocking the screen. By the time I swipe, the phone’s stopped buzzing. I glance at the screen and recognize the number on the missed call screen.

  It’s Levi. Something tells me he’s not just calling to see what I’m up to.

  “Hello?” I ask after redialing his number.

  “Cash, it’s me. Man, I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s not good.” Levi’s voice is strained. My heart stops. I’ve never heard him like this.

  “What is it?” I ask, hating the waiting. I want to know right now what it is. I hate this delay.

  “It’s Grandpa.”

  “Is he okay?” I ask, my initial thought confirmed.

  “Cash, he’s dead.”

  I inhale deeply, processing the information.

  “Shit,” I say, not quite the comforting words I’m sure Levi was looking for.

  “Yeah. It’s just…. God, it’s awful.”

  “What happened?” I ask after clearing my throat, running my free hand through my hair.

  “Heart attack. Cindy found him in the shower. It was too late when they got there.”

  I can hear Levi choking up, trying his best to sound strong through his sadness. Levi was always close to Grandpa, so I know this has to be hard.

  “I’m sorry, bro,” I say, meaning it.

  “Can you please go tell Mom and Dad? I don’t want to do it over the phone. I think one of us should be there.”

  I stand up, scratching my stomach as I head for the light switch.

  “I’m on it right now,” I assure him.

  “Are you drunk?” Levi asks.

  “Maybe.”

  “Then make sure—”

  “I call an Uber. I know, brother. I’m not a moron.” Despite the situation, I roll my eyes at my brother’s continual insistence on treating me like a child.

  “Well, Cash, no offense, but sometimes for being a lawyer….”

  “I’m not very mature. I know, I know. I’ve got it covered. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?” I say. I should be annoyed. As the baby of the family, everyone treats me like an idiot.

  But I can’t think about that now. As I dig out some clothes and search the Uber app for a driver, all I can think about is Grandpa and how, in the flash of a moment, everything in life can change.

  In the flash of a moment, everything in life can seem just so upside down, sex and booze aside.

  Two

  Cash

  The next few days are a blur as they so often are at crucial crossroads in life. Plans are made at the firm for my parents and me to head out to Ocean City, Maryland, for a few days. Grandpa didn’t want a traditional funeral, which isn’t surprising to those who knew him. He wanted his ashes to be scattered at sea—from the speedboat in the middle of the ocean off Ocean City, to be exact. Yeah, Grandpa always had a flair for the flashy. Aunt Pearl and Uncle Alvin aren’t up for the long trip, so Molly Madigan’s parents—Levi’s old flame—are going to stay with them.

  God bless them. I left a few bottles of vodka behind. They’re going to need it, especially since Aunt Pearl thinks Mr. Madigan is pretty okay—her words—in the looks department and was already hitting on him.

  After boarding the plane—Killer’s along for the ride too, since I’ve kind of grown attached to the guy—I settle into my seat, finally breathing for the first time in days. Mom and Dad sit beside me, Mom especially a mess. This week hasn’t been easy on the family, to say the least. I think we’re all in shock. Staring out the window, I watch as Texas sinks away, the clouds surrounding the plane.

  Although I’m not happy about the circumstances, a tiny part of me is a little excited to be getting away from this sleepy town for a few days. I know Levi’s been loving Ocean City. It’ll be interesting to see my big brother and to find out what all the fuss is about. There are also the practicalities—there are a lot of legalities to tend to with Grandpa’s business and will. I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes and trying to rest up for what’s probably going to be an even more intense few days.

  “This just feels… disrespectful,” Mom says through tears as she clutches her soggy tissue.

  “Mom, it’s what he wanted,” Levi argues as we stand at the loading dock, Levi holding the urn, Jodie by his side.

  We’re getting ready to board The Rocket, the speedboat Grandpa specified in his funeral wishes. The June sun beating down on us, we stand in all black—which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. I wipe some sweat from my head as I help Mom onto the boat, Dad following closely behind. Cindy’s mascara’s running down her face as Levi and Jodie help her onto the boat as well. I shake my head a little at the sky.

  Grandpa, you’ve sure got one hell of a way of going out, I think to myself. I have to give him credit. It’s definitely not your traditional, mopey service. I think when I go out one day, I’d like nothing more than to be scattered to the wind from a speedboat.

  Some of Levi’s new friends who knew Grandpa are also along for the ride. We’ve already had all the introductions—Avery, Jesse, Phoebe, Lysander, Reed, and a few of Grandpa’s stuffy business associates who look horrified about getting on this thing. I have to admit—I’m kind of excited to see how fast it goes.

  “Better not cry,” I whisper to Levi as I take a seat beside him.

  “Little brother, you’re the one we’re worried about,” he replies, shaking his head.

  “Five bucks Dad pukes,” I say, outstretching a hand.

  Never one to turn down a competition, my brother shakes my hand. “Make it ten.”

  And with that, the boat takes off—and I do mean takes off. There’s no time to worry about sadness or final goodbyes. The pastor who gave a short prayer service at Midsummer Nights this morning—Mama insisted there would be some sort of traditional, spiritual goodbye despite Grandpa’s wishes—is turning green. I let out a “yeehaw,” and some of the others on the boat follow suit.

  The wind is whipping in my face, and it feels like we’re soaring on the water. It’s a thrill, and even though it’s under horrible circumstances, I can’t help but smile at the sight of our family on this crazy boat, Mama’s wild hair even wilder on here, and Daddy clutching the seat for dear life. Maybe Grandpa knew what he was doing. Maybe he wanted to scare us shitless, so we didn’t have time to be sad. When we get to the middle of the ocean, the boat idles as we prepare for our final goodbye.

  “We love you, Grandpa. Thanks for reminding us all to live fearlessly,” Levi says, before opening the urn. He tosses a handful of ashes into the water before passing the urn to Cindy.

  “I love you forever,” she whispers to the wind, and even though I’m a man who doesn’t really believe in love, I feel a pang of sorrow for her. Her heart is clearly cracked. This is a defining moment in her life—she’ll never be the same. Another reason not to let love get the best of you, in my opinion, but to each his or her own. The urn passes hand to hand as everyone says one final goodbye, Grandpa drifting out to sea, freed from all the chaos and calamity of this life.

  When we’ve all tossed Grandpa to the sea and Mama complains one more time about the unconventional ceremony—I remind her that these were Gra
ndpa’s final wishes and it would be disrespectful to not follow them—the boat heads back, and Levi and I spend the rest of the ride studying Dad to see who is going to win the bet.

  We’re getting to the dock and I’m starting to worry I’m going to have to cough up some cash. But just as we’re nearing the dock, Dad starts to look green. Like really green. And before we pull in, he’s puking up his breakfast waffles all over Mama’s shoes. This makes Mama cry even harder. The boat pulls into the dock, the boat operator looking horrified at the mess as everyone rushes to help Mama out. Lysander and Reed, two of Levi’s new friends, assure her they can get her a suitable pair of shoes in a jiffy while everyone else comforts her.

  “What, am I chopped liver? Anyone worried about me?” Dad asks in true Ray Creed fashion, hands in the air as everyone rushes off.

  “No way. You’re my hero right now. Thanks to you, Levi here owes me some money. But I’ll take payment in the form of a drink at the bar during the luncheon,” I say as Levi shakes his head.

  “You would want a drink at a funeral luncheon,” Levi says, rolling his eyes.

  We walk down the dock as Dad comes between us putting a hand on each of our shoulders. “Nothing much that can’t be solved with a little whiskey, boys.”

  I nod, smiling at the sentiment I’ve heard dozens of times over the years.