Read Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) Online
Authors: Beverly Preston
John’s haughty grin
widened at her irritancy. “Tom got off pretty lucky…considering.” His voice was
thick with insinuation.
“Considering!” She
gasped, unable to hold back an unnerving glare. “My uncle didn’t do anything to
you and you…you
attacked
him!”
John twisted,
leaning on the armrest to get closer. “I had plenty of reasons to kick his
ass.” His lips pulled back full, exposing a sexy white smile that would’ve made
most women eagerly line up at the sperm bank. “I thought he cheated on my
mother.”
“You beat him up for
no reason.” Her heartbeat slammed against her chest and dampness gathered at
the nape of her neck.
He scoffed with a
long, graceful shrug of his muscular shoulder. “I didn’t beat him up. I just
punched him a few times.”
“You gave him two
huge black eyes!” She fumed. Shayla, who’d never in her life laid a hand on
anyone, reached out and poked him in the chest. “You’re lucky you didn’t break
his nose. Do you have any idea how horrible that would’ve been? Do you? He
makes his living off his face!”
John glanced
comically at the crinkle in his shirt left by the imprint of her finger. He
moved closer, inches from her face. “Lucky for him it was a misunderstanding.
If he really had cheated on my mother,”—he backed away with an arrogant
grin—“well…”
“Well, what?” Shayla
swallowed hard, peering into the most gorgeous emerald eyes looming near the
shade of vibrant moss.
“Well let’s just say
he’d probably require plastic surgery.” A smirk curled at the edge of his mouth
as he took in every nuance of her angered face. Each muscle on her face strung
tight with revulsion. His smile broadened. John rested his large palm on her
forearm, “Calm down, I’m only messing with you a bit.”
Annoyed, she
squirmed free of his touch, the tenderness of it tingling all the way to her
toes. Staring at his chiseled face, Shayla felt her rigid composure chipping
away.
Untailored charm
caressed every inch of his long athletic physique. His grin softened at her
silence, causing her chest to feel tight and warm. A small horizontal scar
above his left cheek captured her attention. She wondered who in their right
mind would be tough enough to go toe-to-toe with this man.
“Tom and I are
fine.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I like him, and better yet, my mother is
crazy about him. That’s what’s important.” He paused. “As long as he doesn’t
hurt her.”
Her lip snarled at
his warning, but her concern quickly shifted hearing the words doggie bag
coming from the seats in front of them. Tracy asked the attendant for a short
list of items, cool rag, clear soda and a few crackers.
“Is she gonna be all
right?”
“JC has a severe
fear of flying. Take off is the worst part. She’ll be okay after we get in the
air.” Worry pinched his forehead. Powerful muscles shaped his long legs as he
inched forward, straddling JC’s seat from behind. Tucking his arms around the
chair from both sides, he massaged her shoulders.
JC released a long
shaky sigh.
“It’s okay, sis,
just relax. Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” he said softly.
She watched silently
as JC grasped his hand, holding on to it for dear life. Shayla unbuckled and
wriggled forward to get a better view. JC’s head tilted back and the pink blush
dusting her cheeks moments ago turned ashen white under the overhead lights. Her
eyes remained closed while she concentrated on deep breathing through pursed
lips.
“She seemed fine
when she got on the plane,” Shayla stated in a hushed voice.
He continued
rubbing, keeping physical contact with JC. “She tries to psych herself out before
she flies. Especially today. It’s such a long flight and she wanted to enjoy
her first private jet experience. She’s been
willing
a happy flight for two days.”
“Manifesting, John.
I’ve been manifesting a great flight.” JC grumbled with heavy breath, peeking
through the seats. “I’m subconsciously making it happen.”
John mouthed
quietly. “She reads one book and now she can control the outcome of her life.”
JC scowled, turning
to point a finger at her brother. “I heard that. Manifesting is the art of creating
what you want at the time you want it. Don’t make fun of me.”
Shayla smiled, happy
to see JC’s color returning with her feistiness. “It’s kind of like mind over
matter.”
“Not you too?” John
frowned.
Every preconceived
notion of John as a tough guy or an intimidating bully began to fade like the
ground beneath the plane as they took off higher into the sky. John treated his
sister with the compassion of a loving brother or a small child taking care of
an injured animal.
John’s elbow came to
rest on Shayla’s knee as they gathered at the crack between the seats. The
dusting of dark hair on his brawny arm stood at attention. She startled at the
sight of his goose bumps. He ran a slow burning gaze over her legs. The flight
attendant broke his stare as she handed out fluffy pillows and down blankets.
After days with a
lack of sleep, Shayla let out a big yawn. Merely catching sight of a pillow
made her drowsy. Preparing for the long flight, she kicked off her boots and
tucked her legs up under her bum, snuggling into her chair. The combined stress
of Thanksgiving, Mat’s proposal and her angst about meeting the man sitting
beside her had taken its toll. Shayla tucked the white throw under her chin,
adjusting the soft pillow beneath her head.
JC had calmed down
considerably, and the girls all settled in for the long flight ahead. Tracy
turned on a movie and they burrowed into their recliners.
“Are all of you
going to sleep?” His disappointment echoed through the plane.
His sisters each
raised a hand in the air. “Yep. Night, Romeo. See you in Greece.”
“Greece? That’s at
least twelve hours away!” His gaze wandered over Shayla. “Are you going to
sleep too?”
She yawned again.
“I’ve had a really long, rough week. They have a great selection of movies.”
Thankful for the
opportunity to give in to her collapse, her lids closed and she took a deep,
cleansing breath. The scent of John’s cologne sparked her senses. Glinting
through tired slits, she noticed he examined the ring on her finger with a
puzzled frown. Shayla tucked her hands tighter into the folds of down.
“No hard feelings?”
He held out his hand again.
A flirt of a smile
tugged at her mouth. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
The smell of coffee
and women’s laughter sifted through her sleep with a soft hum. Shayla
stretched, extending her arms straight with a shiver and a groan. The heavy arm
draped over her side lifted and coasted down her arm.
Her eyes sprung wide
and she lurched forward in shock, but John settled her frantic response with
another soothing stroke. In a sleep drunken daze, she wiped the drool from the
corner of her lips with the palm of her hand.
“Well, good
morning.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I thought you were going
to sleep through the landing.”
“Oh, God.” His shirt
wore a drool mark the size of a half dollar. Shayla turned away from him in
humiliation, making another pass at her mouth. “Sorry about your shirt. What
happened? Did I fall asleep on you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault
anyway. You were sleeping all crooked,”—he imitated her discomfort,
hanging his head to the side—“so I tried to straighten you out.”
A rush of color
flooded his cheeks and he looked like a little boy when he grinned. “You
snuggled right up next to my chest and we fell asleep that way. I woke up about
an hour ago.”
Tracy moved through
the cabin. She reached into her back pocket, retrieving a picture from her
phone. “You were both out cold.”
“You didn’t put that
on Facebook, did you?” Shayla questioned briskly.
“No. We were already
warned the whole trip and wedding are top secret.”
JC reached her arm
through the crack of the seat, showing off her photo of Shayla with her arm
sprawled across John’s chest. Her face buried against his chest and John was
sound asleep with his temple pressed to the top of her head. “This one is so
cute! Do you have any idea how hard it is not post these?”
Her lip wrinkled in
shock, hit by a wave of embarrassment. Shayla absently rubbed her stiff neck.
“Shit.”
“What?” He complained
teasingly. “You afraid to be seen with me?”
Raking his fingers
through his dark mink hair, John arched and stretched like a cat. Straining
muscles captured her attention, spreading heat from her cheeks to her toes.
Pulling her lower lip into her mouth, she bit down, allowing her gaze to travel
from his bulging triceps to strong thighs.
Their gazes met and
held.
In order to escape
the embarrassment, she stood. “Excuse me.”
John twisted,
touching his hand to her hip as she scooted by.
The warmth from his
handprint on her waist stayed with her all the way to the restroom. Her
breathing came hard though a trembling puff of air. She rinsed her mouth and
fixed her hair. Catching a whiff of his cologne lingering in the layers of her
hair, she closed her eyes and inhaled the yummy scent. “Good lord he’s hot.”
From out of nowhere,
a vision of his pants around his strained thighs while making love to her on
the counter popped into her head. Her eyes rolled back as a low ache burned low
in her tummy. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to grab him by the
wrist and pull him into the stall.
She splashed water
on her face and pointed a finger at her longing reflection. “You need to stop.”
Putting her hormones
in check, she sauntered out to join the others. Each of the Mathews gazed
dreamily out their own window as they flew over dozens of small, sun kissed
islands. Kneeling on her seat, she gathered with the others in the admiration
of the pristine blue waters of the Aegean Sea.
“Have you been to Greece before?” John
asked from over her shoulder, nearly resting his chin on her shoulder.
Shayla flinched as
the moist heat of his breath set a blazing trail of goose bumps over her entire
body.
Mother of pearl what I wouldn’t do
to feel his gorgeous mouth on my neck.
She managed to shake her head as her
words remained strangled in her throat. Inches between their faces, he slowly
and tortuously took in every speck of her face as if she were a painting
hanging in a gallery. She was worried she might spontaneously combust.
John eased back,
buckling his seatbelt, giving her a chance to catch her breath.
Arriving in Greece,
Tommy and Tess met them at the airport. Shayla embraced her uncle with open
arms, and observed as the Mathews greeted one another with true heartfelt
warmth. It was hard not to notice the palpable differences between this family
and Mat’s.
Huggers.
There was no
ceremonial greeting or staunch pretenses, simply adoration.
Tommy’s resort-style
home perched on a cliff outside the bustling village. The stark white modern
home came complete with an amazing view of the Aegean Sea, a pool and enough
extra rooms for each of them. Shayla arranged for everyone to stay at an inn
after the wedding, but tonight Tommy and Tess insisted everyone stay under one
roof, as a
family
. Though she’d
always hoped for it, never in a million years did she expect to hear Tommy
Clemmins and family in one sentence. This was her uncle’s shot at true love and
he was going to take it.
It didn’t take long
to get comfortable. After unpacking, visiting and settling in, Shayla had a
minute to think. The azure blue water and afternoon sunshine beckoned from
behind the glass wall. She wanted to make the most of the few days on her first
trip to Greece. She changed into her bikini, shorts and a sweatshirt, and
entered the living room, keys and purse in hand.
“Are you leaving?”
Tess asked with a bright inquisitive smile.
Everyone turned,
examining her change of clothes.
JC hopped off the
sofa first. “Where you going?”
Tracy and John
popped their heads up like a prairie gopher popping out of its hole on the
Discovery Channel.
Shayla chuckled to
herself. She’d hoped for solitude, but judging by the fun-envy growing wider in
their eyes, she wouldn’t find any isolation right now. “I’m going to the beach.
Any takers?”
JC breezed past,
hollering from the hallway. “I’ll be ready in five.”
“I’m in! And by
saying five minutes, she really means ten,” Tracy corrected, retreating to her
room.
John stood from the
sofa, bending to kiss his mother on the cheek. Shayla couldn’t help but take in
his athletic physique. Her chest tightened as she stared at his firm ass in a
pair of jeans that stretched perfectly with each movement of muscle beneath the
denim fabric.
She subconsciously
stroked her neck as her head cocked slightly for a better view. Lost in her
glory daze, John turned and caught her examining his assets. His eyes held a
mocking glint as he moseyed straight toward her. Blistering heat layered her
cheeks and she dropped her eyes to the floor, letting out a soft nervous
giggle.
“I only need two
minutes.”
The unusually warm
weather made for the perfect day for exploring. Tracy and JC talked nonstop on
the short drive toward the village. They’d traveled to Greece over the summer
and shared everything they loved and learned about the Greek culture,
architecture, and mythical history.
Shayla stopped at an
overlook where a group of locals gathered at a cliff top.
JC squealed with
delight, bolting down the path, not bothering to wait for anyone else. The only
words Shayla could make out were Greek gods.
“Greek gods?” Shayla
inquired, heading down a narrow path etched along the cliff.
Tracy rolled her
eyes. “Our little sister is boy crazy.”
“Oh,” Shayla
managed.
“She doesn’t have a
lot of boyfriends,” Tracy clarified, sounding as if she didn’t want to give the
assumption that her sister was easy. “She just—”
“Flirts.” John
darted an unhappy stare toward JC and a group of four healthy good looking
young men.
“I’d say flirting
runs in the family.” Shayla snickered under her breath. Charm and arrogance ran
ramped in her line of work, and John Mathews reeked of it.
“Ha!” Tracy lifted
her hand for a high-five. “She’s got your number, brother.”
He scoffed, throwing
his head back with an eye roll. A sexy laugh filled with playful arrogance
escaped him. “Not yet she doesn’t.”
Shayla flushed and
for a moment forgot how to breathe. She swallowed. “I don’t need to find you a
pair of boxing gloves, do I?” she chided.
“Only if you want to
take me on.”
“I—”
One of the Greek men
jumped from the cliff.
“Oh, my God! Did you
see that? How far down is that?”
“Twenty-five feet?”
John said nonchalantly, obviously surprised at her alarmed reaction.
JC stripped to her
bikini before they caught up. Her long caramel hair wisped in the cool breeze
as she poised at the brink of the dramatic cliff’s edge. Her breathtaking
beauty and pleasant, outgoing personality drew people to her like a magnet. The
Greek gods strained to keep their eyes from popping out of their heads, unsure
of the huge powerful male tagging along behind her.
Relief seemed to
wash over the men like the waves below when she introduced John as her bother.
In broken English, they gave her instructions on how to time the waves. The
boom of energy crashing against the cliff face reverberated up the wall.
“You can’t jump off
that.” Shayla’s eyes bulged. “That’s way too high, JC.”
A dangerous, defiant
smile crossed her face. “Ha! Hell yes I’m jumping!”
Groans of complaint
came from John and Tracy, each rolling their eyes at Shayla.
“The one thing you
don’t ever do with JC is use the word can’t,” Tracy warned, precariously
retreating from the edge.
“That water’s got to
be fifty-five degrees.”
One of the men
disagreed, pivoting his hand back and forth. “Sixty-three, maybe sixty-seven
degrees.”
Shayla grabbed John
by the arm. “You’re not seriously going to let her jump, are you?”
John approached to
the rim of the black jagged rock, peering over to assess the level of danger.
JC stood beside him,
waiting for his response.
He shrugged, giving
JC all the encouragement she needed.
She threw her hands
in the air. “Woo-hoo! I’m going.”
The young men, more
interested in JC’s striking beauty and string bikini than the two story drop,
gathered at her side. Excitement filled her smile as she plotted her jump,
oblivious to the effect she had on them. Timing the waves perfectly, she
jumped, screaming the whole way down until she hit the cold water.
Another man joined
in the craziness. He backed up fifteen feet, running down the path and hurling
himself over the ledge.
“You coming?” John
taunted, tugging his shirt over his head and handing it to Tracy.
Momentarily
speechless, Shayla let her gaze linger over his perfectly defined pecs. “Me?
I’m not jumping off that. I’m afraid of heights!”
“What?” John scoffed
in surprise, resting his hands on his hips. “That’s not what Tom said. He told
us you jumped out of an airplane for your twenty-first birthday.”
She grimaced at the
memory.
“He talked about you
a lot over Thanksgiving.” Tracy nodded. “That’s why we’ve been looking forward
to meeting you.”
Preconceived guilt
pinged through her. Shayla had been dreading meeting Tess’s kids because of the
way they’d harshly judged her uncle. She realized her opinion of them was made
in the same haste judgment. “I suppose he forgot to mention the fact he dangled
a pretty big carrot in front of me. He sent me to a personal awareness retreat,
and if I graduated,”—she curled her fingers into quotes—“he’d buy
me a new car.”
Their eyes widened
in surprise.
“He didn’t force
me,” she clarified. “He would’ve got me the car regardless. I felt so damn
empowered by the end of the week, I had a
Wonder
Woman
moment and jumped.”
“Well, this is
nothing compared to jumping from an airplane a mile high in the sky.” John’s
fingers hooked in the band of his trunks, dipping them lower around his lean
waist.
“I...I don’t think you should go.” As
Shayla’s eyes followed the descent of John’s drawstring, a riff of personal
awareness zinged through her. Trepidation mixed with yearning. Her tongue
seemed to be tied in the knot of his trunks. She backed away, shaking her head.
“I can’t, it’s way too high.”
“Come on, you big
chicken!” JC beckoned from the chilly blue water. The gurgle of sea swells
crashing against the jagged rocks below mixed with echoes of JC’s shrieks of
joy.
“Are you jumping
too?” Shayla asked Tracy.
“No way. Those two
are the adrenaline junkies,” Tracy validated. She held her arm out offering to
hold Shayla’s belongings. “They take after our dad and I’m more like my mom.
I’ll meet you on the beach.”
Anxiety pumped
through her veins and she paced like a caged lion.
Making the most of every opportunity means stepping out of your comfort
zone
, she repeated silently.