Take a Gamble

Take A Gamble

Copyright © 2014 by Rachael Brownell. All rights reserved.

Editing by Jennifer at Blue Water Editing

Formatting by
Inkstain Interior Book Designing

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the author as provided by USA copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United State of America.

ISBN:
978-1497308954

This book is dedicated to my family of fellow authors. Without the daily support of each and every one of them, I never would have been able to finish this book and I never would have had the courage to design the cover myself. Thank you so very much, ladies. You know exactly who you are.

MAC

I’m staring.
I’m not sure
if he’s really there. I’ve seen him everywhere for the past four years. I’ve dreamt about him almost every night. He consumed my heart that summer and I let him. Then I left my heart with him and a promise. A promise to myself that it wasn’t over, whatever we had. A promise that I would love him for the rest of my life.

Why now?
Why here?

I remember the first time I saw him.
I remember how in awe I was of him. His presence was overwhelming. I was speechless, kind of like I am right now. The only thing I could do was stare. His beauty was blinding. I knew at that moment I wanted more from him than he would probably be willing to give. Guys like him only want one thing. Girls like me, we want everything.

He was that everything for me.
I wanted him, body and soul. I wanted his heart, his love. What I never expected was for him to give it to me. Unconditionally. Freely.

I
loved him. He loved me. At least, he said he did. Love can’t really conquer all, though. Can it?

His eyes are sparkling.
His mouth is hanging open slightly and I see his chest rising and falling. This man, he’s everything I ever wanted. Why did I let him go so easily? Why didn’t he fight harder? Why didn’t I?

I feel a hand at the base of my back
, but I don’t turn my head. That would mean I would have to break eye contact with him and I don’t think I can do that. I feel my heart breaking at the thought of turning my head and looking away. I know I will have to eventually.

“Everything okay, babe?”

I hate it when he calls me that. He knows how degraded I feel when he calls me babe. He only does it when he’s trying to mark his territory. Why not just whip it out and take a piss on my foot?

I open my mouth to speak when I see a leggy blonde step in front of him.
I can’t see her face but she is tapping her foot like she’s irritated. I have a feeling that one of the steaming cups in his hand must belong to her.

He hands them both to her and steps around her.
He slowly takes another step and he’s only a few feet away from me. One more step and he’s standing in front of me now and I’m staring at his chest. I can’t bear to look up. I have a feeling I’m going to be able to see how much I broke his heart just by staring into his beautiful brown eyes.

“You need to back the fuck up.”

I feel Wes step up behind me and pull me back a step or two. My feet go willingly. My eyes are still glued to his chest, watching it rise and fall. I can’t look away. He’s wearing a Stanford sweatshirt and I can’t help but frown. He’s been this close all these years and I never even knew.

I feel his hand on my chin and my body shivers.
When my eyes meet his I shiver again. There isn’t a single trace of anger or pain in his eyes right now. The only thing I see is love.

“Mac.”
His voice is just as smooth and sultry as I remember. I can’t help but close my eyes and soak it in. The way he says my name, the sound of his voice, is almost too much for my heart to bear.

“Look, asshole.
I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you need to take a step back. MacKenna tell him.”

I hear Wes but I’m lost in thoughts of that summer, of our time together.
The moment I knew I had fallen in love with him. The moment it all came crashing down. The last time I saw him. The look on his face as I pushed him away to save him from everything that could have destroyed us both. And it did, just not the way I thought it would.

I open my eyes to see that he’s still staring at me, not paying any attention to my overly annoying fiancé.
Blondie is standing next to him now, staring at me like she’s about ready to throw a punch. Then I feel Wes pulling on my arm.

Shit!

What do I do? I don’t want to walk away. I just found him. I’m not ready to let him go again. I never will be. He’s truly the last happy memory I have left, the only thing from that summer which is worth remembering. He was the light which shown through the darkness of the best and worst summer of my life.

MAC

Family vacation.
Not exactly the
way I planned on spending part of my summer. My parents don’t get it – of course. I wanted to stay home, spend time with my friends. Just – hang out. It’s our last summer together before we all go off to college. I wanted to make the most of it.

That didn’t happen, of course.
So, here I am, with my two brother in tow, driving through state after state, listening to my parents tell us how much fun we are going to have. I’m doubtful. Fun is not exactly my parents’ specialty. They are kind of boring people, in my opinion anyway.

Dad’s always in a suit.
He is, after all, in charge of the biggest real estate company in all of Illinois. His company. He built it from the ground up. He’s worked most of my life to get where he is today. My parents struggled through the beginning stages of opening the business. They were raising three kids and both working two jobs to keep us afloat. Their hard work paid off. Mom doesn’t have to work anymore and Dad gets to wear expensive suits all day, every day. They both got exactly what they wanted – the lifestyle they wanted.

Dad’s not sporting a three-piece suit today, however
. Today he’s wearing some khakis and a button up shirt. Still presentable, especially considering we are going to be spending the majority of the day in the car. Mom, well, you would think we were going to some fancy party. She’s wearing a knee-length dress, her hair is pulled up, not a piece out of place, and my favorite pair of diamond teardrop earrings gracefully fall from her ears. She looks beautiful.

The closer we get to our destination the more I start to relax.
Maybe, just maybe, this summer won’t be that bad. This is our first real vacation as a family. We’ve gone places together before but nothing like this. My parents went all out this time. They rented a house on the ocean in Myrtle Beach for an entire month. Dad took time off from work. Actual time off. He put someone else in charge for the next month. Apparently, no one is allowed to call him but Jim, the guy in charge, unless it’s an emergency. So, unless Jim has some kind of death wish, I have a feeling my Dad’s phone is going to be pretty silent for the next few weeks. At least I hope so.

We’re getting close now.
I can’t see it but I can smell the ocean through the open window. I watch closely as my dad navigates us through town and follows the voice on the GPS. I’m looking out my brother’s window, taking in the sights, when the voice says we are arriving at our location. I whip my head around and look at the house we are pulling up to. It’s magnificent.

I have always thought that our new house was beautiful.
My parents bought it a few years ago when Dad’s business really started to take off and we had “expendable” income. This house is bigger and more prestigious than any of the houses in our neighborhood. My mouth must have dropped open slightly because I can feel my tongue going dry.

Dad pulls to a stop at the gate and types in the code so that it opens before he drives up to the house and comes to a stop in front of the garage.
I shake Mark to wake him up and practically push him out of the car while he complains about my lack of patience to anyone who will listen. They’ve all heard it before. I am probably the least patient person in the world, aside from my father.

I’m
exactly like him, personality wise. If you put us next to each other, however, you would never know we were related. Seriously. Physically, I look absolutely nothing like him. I am an exact replica of my mother, head to toe. As soon as I open my mouth, however, there is no doubt that he is my father. I talk like him, act like him, and flip as quickly as he does, maybe quicker being that I have an overload of estrogen at my age.

I follow my dad to the front door and push past him as
soon as it’s unlocked. I know there will be a fight over who gets what room so I make a mad dash for the stairs. I hear my brothers coming inside, asking where I am, as I peak inside room after room. I’m looking in the third room when I hear footsteps on the staircase. They’re running towards me, trying to lay their claim, but I’ve already decided which room I want – the one with the beautiful view.

I shut the door behind me as Matthew stakes hi
s claim on the room next door. I’m not even sure if he looked at any of the other rooms he acted so quickly. He’s the one who speaks before thinking, jumps before looking, acts before considering the consequences. I think he’ll grow out of it, eventually. I remember being like that, a little bit anyway, when I was his age.

Not that I’m old.
Seventeen is far from old. I am wiser though. We fight a lot because we’re too much alike. We’re both like Dad. Matthew turned fifteen last month and, as much as I love my little brother, he acts his age most of the time in the most annoying ways possible. Unlike Mark.

Mark is the baby of the family.
He’s only eleven months younger than Matty but he acts older than me most of the time. He takes things in stride, rarely ever complains, and has accepted the role of the “responsible child” with ease. He has my mother’s personality.

It’s amazing how Matty and I can look so much like
Mom and act so much like Dad. Then Mark, he looks like Dad and acts like Mom. I wonder if my parents realize this. They must. How could they not? We are their children after all.

I take the room in.
The walls are a soft shade of green. The bed is huge, a king size I think. It’s white wrought iron with a comforter that can only be described as the same beautiful blues and greens of the ocean. It all matches the ocean. I’m sure the owners were going for that feeling when they designed this room.

The door opens and in comes my dad with my suitcase.
He looks like he’s struggling. I may have over packed a bit. My suitcase is practically bulging at the seams and it has to weigh at least sixty pounds. I’m a girl – what do you expect? I needed to bring, well, everything I could think of with me in case I might need it. I never know what will come up.

“Here you go
, sweetie,” Dad says as he lifts and then drops my suitcase on the bed. “This room is nice. The view is beautiful.”

I turn to follow his eyes out the French doors.
I have the perfect view of the ocean and the beach. “It is beautiful.”

“Mom says
we are going to go into town to grab a bite to eat tonight and then we’ll worry about picking up groceries tomorrow. Can you be ready in ten minutes or do you need longer?”

That is a trick question if I ever heard one.
Can I be ready in ten minutes? Only if I go as I am right now. Instead of answering, I give him
the look
. You know
the look
. The one which says “Yeah, right!” He smiles and leaves the room.

I want to check out the beach when we get back so I actually make quick work of changing and freshening up.
I take twenty minutes and the rest of the family is waiting for me downstairs when I finally make my appearance. I probably don’t look any different but I feel different and that’s what matters to me. Fresh makeup, fresh clothes.

After a quick dinner, Dad navigates us back to the house
. My parents head upstairs to unpack and my brothers go to work hooking up their gaming system in the living room. I, on the other hand, am excited to go exploring. I grab my phone and head out onto the back patio. The moon is high in the sky now and reflecting off the water.

I slip out of my sandals and start to walk the twenty yards or so towards the water.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye but I don’t stop. I’m on a mission to dip my toes in the ocean. Plus, my brothers are probably trying to scare me. It’s what little brothers do and mine happen to be good at it.

The water is cold but refreshing.
I walk in until it’s almost to my knees but it gets colder. Too cold. I turn around and start to walk back when I see movement again. That’s when I see him. Shirtless, smoking something behind the small shed that’s between our house and the one next to us.

I can’t see his face but I can feel his eyes on me.
He’s watching my every move but thankfully not making a move towards me. I’m halfway to where he’s standing before I even realize I’m walking towards him. I try to slyly turn back towards our house but I know it’s pretty obvious that I was headed towards him when he speaks up.

“Did you want a hit?”

His voice is deep but smooth. There’s something about it which makes me relax completely. That’s not normal. I don’t trust too many people, aside from my family and my best friend Alexa. I definitely don’t trust guys. I’ve been burnt once and that was enough for me.

I’m standing only a few f
eet away now. Somehow I have navigated back towards him. His face is still hidden in the shadows but his body is being displayed by the moon light. I sure hope his face is as beautiful as the rest of him. His body and voice practically have me drooling at this point.

“Well, beautiful, did you want a hit or not?”

“No. I don’t smoke.”

I watch as he crushes out the cigarette in the sand and covers the evidence.
I’m still staring at his foot as he steps out of the shadows. I want to look up, to see if his face is even half as beautiful and seductive as his voice but my eyes are glued to his feet. He has nice feet. I hate feet. Feet are ugly and there is a reason they are normally hidden in shoes. His feet, however, are nice looking feet.

“Do you happen to have a name?”
His voice has taken on a sultry tone. He’s flirting with me. Maybe this summer won’t be as boring as I thought it would be.

“Mac,” I squeak out, still staring at his foot.

I see his hand come into view and then disappear. I feel the heat from his hand only seconds before he touches my chin and lifts my head. I close my eyes as sensation after sensation course through my body. His touch has lit me on fire.

“Open your
eyes for me, Mac.” I do as I’m told. His eyes, a deep shade of brown from what I can see in this lighting, are staring back are me, smiling mischievously. “I’m Roe.”

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
How embarrassing. I am literally speechless right now and I don’t even know this guy. I try again but he puts his finger over my lips and pulls me into the shadows. I was so distracted by the beautiful face in front of me that I didn’t hear people coming down the beach.

Now, as I watch them walk past us without noticing us standing there, all I can focus on is his arm around my waist h
olding my back against his bare chest. I know I should pull away, that I don’t know this guy but my body has other ideas. As the voices dissipate my body shudders against him and I hear him groan quietly.

I finally pull away and turn towards him.
He steps out of the shadows and for the first time I take him in from head to toe. He’s all male. Muscular, toned and his grin, the one he’s giving me right now, is wicked. His hair needs to be cut. There’s one curl hanging down onto his forehead and just as I am about to reach up and push it back, he does it himself. Bottom line, this guy is gorgeous. I need to be careful or I will get myself in serious trouble.

“MacKenna,” I say, holding out my hand to him.
He takes my hand in his but instead of shaking it like I expect him to do, he gently brings my knuckles to his lips. I try not to let it show, but my body feels the effects of his lips instantly. “My friends call me Mac.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mac.”

He gently drops my hand and then turns to leave. I can’t help but watch him go. I want to call out after him but once again, I am speechless.

Sleep
was pretty much elusive last night. Every time I closed my eyes his face was the only thing I saw. At one point, I fell asleep and dreamed of him. I don’t remember what I was dreaming about but I do remember he was in the dream. I woke up sweating and out of breath.

After a family breakfast, I
slip my suit on and head down towards the water. Knowing, or rather hoping, that I would see Roe again today, I took the time to straighten my hair and left it hanging loose. I knew it didn’t matter what my hair looked like if I was wearing a bikini but I still took the time.

Once I’m situated, I lay
back and close my eyes, soaking up the sun. The heat feels wonderful as it soaks into my skin. Every time I think I need to go in the water and cool off, a light breeze blows over me and cools me down.