Copyright © 2013 Maureen Mayer
Cover Design © Robin Harper of Wicked By Design
Cover Picture © Arrow Studio via Fotolia.com
Interior Design: Fictional Formats
Literary Editor: Margo Masur
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The 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.
To my wonderful boyfriend, family, and friends for always pushing me to reach for the stars. This is for you.
Man, I really dug myself in deep shit this time.
As I sat there watching the waves make their way up the soft white sand before crashing and receding again, I wondered what the hell I must have been thinking. With nowhere to live, no income and a beat-up old Buick that I put more money into than it was worth, there wasn’t much more I could do than hang my head in defeat. Karma had really proven to be a huge bitch, but I guess that was my penance for leaving behind everything I’ve ever known to make a fresh start; one where I wasn’t faced with the constant reminder that my only brother was nothing more than faded memory.
I finally arrived in Savannah after having spent over 24 hours driving along the eastern seaboard from Buffalo. I never planned on coming here. Never thought I would grow the balls to finally leave the nest, but I was here now so I had no other choice but to make the most of it. This was my chance to regain control. To grab hold of the reins and take back the life I had pushed aside four years ago, when my family was thrown through the wringer and left to recover from what was quite possibly the worst day of my life. A day that will forever haunt me.
While I dug my toes in the sand, contemplating where I go from here, I noticed there were a few shirtless college-aged guys running up the length of the beach and tossing a football back and forth. It seemed odd to me that they were here and not in class, but then I realized it must be their spring break. I would’ve known that had I still been in college.
“Head’s up!” I heard someone shout from down the beach.
I turned my head just in time to see a football barreling its way straight towards my face. Being athletically challenged and having no reaction time whatsoever, I sat there motionless and waited for the impact. This really wasn’t the time to wish that I had thrown the football around with AJ a little more when he was still alive.
Oh man, this is really going to hurt…
“Ughhh! Fuck!!!” My hands instinctively flew up to my face. The incessant throbbing increased as I felt the point of impact begin to double in size.
“Shit! Are you okay?” A tall, tan figure slowly came into view as I tried to shake off the rattling in my brain and regain focus.
“Well, I’m pretty sure you just broke my face, douchebag.” At least that’s what it had felt like. I buried my face in my hands knowing I must’ve looked like Quasimodo as the right side of my face continued to swell.
I heard him let a laugh slip out as he bit down on his bottom lip.
Was this asshole seriously laughing at me right now? I wasn’t kidding when I said he broke my fuckin’ face!
“Here, let me take a look.” His warm hand gently caressed my cheek where the swelling had quickly become more prominent. I could barely register his touch; it felt like soft feathers dancing ever so lightly across the surface of my skin. I wasn’t even sure if I could trust this guy, but something about the way he touched me told me I should.
“I am so sorry. Shit, I guess my throws are a little off today, huh?” He continued stroking my cheek with concern emanating from his focused stare. “That’s gonna leave a nasty shiner there, darlin’. We’ve got a cooler over there in the truck. Let’s get some ice on it before it gets any worse.” He extended his hand, and although I was a little apprehensive at first, I allowed him to hoist me up effortlessly. We walked over to where the other guys were huddled around a pickup truck with a cooler propped up on the tailgate.
Oh, God.
It must’ve looked pretty bad. At that point I could only see out of one eye, but the expressions plastered on their faces said it all.
“
Daaamn
girl, Brett sure did a number on you!” The shortest of the guys shouted towards us as we approached.
“Corey, you jackass, don’t make her feel worse. Why don’t you make your lazy ass useful and grab some ice for her?” He placed his hand on my shoulders, guiding me closer to the truck.
I groaned, both out of pain and frustration. “God, do I really look as horrible as I feel?”
“Nah, you look gorgeous, darlin’. Just as good, if not better than before you got hit.” He smiled back at me reassuringly. I knew that wasn’t true, but nevertheless, it was sweet of him to attempt to butter me up.
I tried to get a better look at him with my good eye, since he was up in my face inspecting the damage. I had to admit, from what I could see he was pretty cute; probably about 5’10” with short, disheveled blonde hair, tan skin covering a toned but not overly built body, a million dollar smile and deep, chocolaty-brown eyes that seemed to swallow me whole.
“Shit, that’s fuckin’ cold!” I was startled by the abrupt contact of ice on my face. “So you’re saying you noticed me before you almost smashed my face in?”
His mouth expanded into a wide grin before he playfully took his bottom lip between his teeth. “How could I miss you? Not only was I distracted by this sexy, little thing lying out there in the sand, who I’m now realizing isn’t from around here, you’re also the only girl out here on the beach.” Yeah, I guess that made sense. I couldn’t really blame him for looking; he was a guy after all.
I furrowed my brow quizzically. “What makes you think I’m not from around here?”
“Your accent, darlin’. You sound like a Yankee.”
Ohmigod is he for real?
“Did you seriously just say that? Don’t give me that Yankee-Confederate bullshit. It’s 2013! Get the fuck over it already!” The three of them stopped what they were doing and stared blankly at me; one of them had his mouth hung open in amazement. My sudden outburst even caught me by surprise.
“I like her, Brett! She’s feisty!” A dark-haired guy about the same height as Brett scanned me up and down with a hungry look in his eyes.
Great, just what I needed.
“Do you have a boyfriend? God, please tell me you don’t.”
“You would be the one to ask her that, Travis. You always were a glutton for psycho bitches.”
Wow. Note to self: Corey is an asshole.
“All right, guys. Relax. I’m sorry if I offended you, uh…wait, I never caught your name, darlin’.” He leaned against the tailgate with his legs crossed at the ankles.
“It’s Liberty. Look, I appreciate your help and everything…even though you’re the reason I needed help in the first place, but I should probably get going. Thanks for this,” I said as I held up the quickly melting bag of ice.
I grabbed my shoes and started to walk back towards my car. I didn’t make it very far before I felt Brett’s hand lightly grasp around my elbow, halting me. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it nervously. I actually found it kind of adorable whenever guys showed they were nervous. It was nice to see that vulnerable side of them every once in a while.
“Look, I’m really sorry if I offended you back there. We don’t all have the ‘stars and bars’ attitude. It’s just sort of become a habit for us to call northerners ‘Yankees’.”
I looked at him apologetically. “It’s all right. I guess I overreacted a bit. I shouldn’t have chewed you out like that.”
“Do you…do you think maybe I could get your number? Just so I can check up on you and make sure you’re all right. I’d really like to make it up to you, too. I still feel horrible about giving you a black eye. It’s not the friendliest way to welcome you to town.”