This Love of Mine (Raine Series #1) (21 page)

A knock at the
door drags me from my reverie and I turn from my spot by the window. My uncle
Alex stands in my doorway and takes up most of the frame with his huge body. On
the outside he looks mean and fierce, but on the inside he’s a big ole giant
teddy bear. I know that from experience but also from seeing how he cherishes
his wife and two daughters. He told me shortly before I decided to move here
that he feels the same way about me and that he’s happy to have me as part of
his little family. Of course I cried after that conversation.

“Can I come in
sweetheart?” he asks. I smile at the term him and my aunt had grown accustomed
to calling me. My father was the only other person to refer to me as his
‘sweetheart’ and hearing it makes the pieces of my heart fit together again.

“Sure.” I walk
over to the bed and sit down, noticing that he has a guitar case in his hand. I
know how to play a guitar, thanks to a very adamant mother who sent me for
lessons even when she could barely afford it. She said my father played and she
wanted me to learn so I could still keep a part of him with me.

“I hope you like
your room, your aunt Em went a little crazy in here but she wanted to make sure
you had everything you might need,” he says nervously, glancing around.

“I love it, thank
you Uncle Alex.”

He looks at me
before speaking again, a sad expression settling itself on his handsome
face.
 
“Now this guitar belonged to
your daddy. He gave it to me shortly before he died and asked me to hang on to
it until I could get it to you. Somehow he knew he wasn’t gonna be around much
longer. He also left a sealed envelope tucked away inside and told me you had
to read it when the time is right.”

I touch the black
box lying on my bed with my fingers, stopping over my fathers’ initials. Just knowing
it once belonged to him makes him feel like less of a mystery.
 

I stand on my
tippy toes and kiss my uncle on the cheek. He blushes and pulls me into his
side, kissing me on top of my head. Without another word he walks out and I’m
left alone again, this time my fathers’ guitar is my only company. I’m itching
to open it. It’s been months since I last played. Music is how I express what
I’m feeling and I make a resolution to get back to it when the first chance
comes up.

After finally
settling in and getting my uncle and aunt to leave, I crawl into my big, poufy
bed, my body sinking into the mattress and releasing all the tension from the
past few hours.

For the first
time since my mother died the nightmares stay away, and it is as if nothing
happened.

If only that were
true. I pray to God and whatever other Higher Power is out there looking after
me that my past wouldn’t try to find me. It tried to kill me once and deep
down, in the very core of my being, I know it will come back, that
he
will come find me.

I shove the
dreaded thought back into the darkest corners of my mind. Tomorrow will be my
new beginning and whether I’m ready or not, it’s here.

The old Huntley
Morgan is dead and gone…

Chapter 2

~
2
months later ~

~
Grayson ~

I
pull up outside the bakery on Main street like I’ve done for the last eight
Saturdays since classes started. Somehow it’s become a routine, given that our
football coach’s wife, or Mrs Coach as I like to call her, owns it. We usually
stop by for breakfast and then head out to Lake Dixon for the day, today being
no exception. Despite my intense schedule, with it being my final year year,
I’ve managed to keep my grades high, attend all my classes, make it to every
practice and still find time to hang with friends.

I
cross the busy street, waving to familiar faces as they pass me by. It’s one of
the drawbacks of living in such a small town – everybody knows your name
and your business. My family are well-known here which sometimes makes things a
little harder on me. I’m expected to succeed and that expectation is almost
doubled when the whole town suddenly has the same expectations as my parents.
Not that I’m complaining though. Life at 21 is pretty damn sweet when you’re
me. At least that’s what I want everyone to believe.

“Hey
Gray, what’s up buddy!” my best friend Brody asks as I take a seat at our usual
table. “Hey Bro,” I give him a fist pump. Brody and I met in the 2
^nd
grade, when a 4
^th
grader picked on my sister. Brody jumped on his
back and just about pummelled him to death, despite the fact that he was twice
Brody’s size. We’ve been best friends ever since. I think about my sister for a
split second, dismissing the thought quicker than what it came. After 2 years
it’s supposed to be easier but some days she’s all I think about.

“So,
how was your night last night?” he looks at me, one brow cocked up high into
his messy blonde hair. I know what he’s really asking me but he’s too
chickenshit to say it out loud. He’ll make me say it instead. Bastard.

“It
was good, but I wasn’t with Rebecca if that’s what you're asking.” I give him a
warning look not to go there. It would just ruin my mood. “What? She didn’t
attack you last night like she always does?” he retorts sarcastically. “That’s
a shocker! I’m pretty sure that girl has your entire wedding planned already.”
I roll my eyes, tired of this conversation already. He knows better than anyone
that I don’t do love. Not anymore. When I had my heart stomped on, shredded and
spat back out by the first girl I ever truly loved I decided to switch my heart
off permanently. I would rather feel nothing than feel so hurt and broken up
again. What Rebecca and I have is an arrangement, one that does not include
romantic feelings. At least not on my part. All it’s ever been is a few
meaningless hook-ups. No feelings, no emotions. Just sex.

But
what if he’s right? What if she thinks this thing with us is more? Shit.

“It’s
not like that Brody. You know she’s just a warm body when I need a
distraction.” I need to change the subject and fortunately my rescuer arrives
at our table in form of a petit, dark haired woman that is like a second mother
to me. Emma Morgan is one of the nicest women I’ve ever met, a real Southern
belle, but get on her bad side and she’ll make your life difficult. We always
laugh at Coach Morgan when he’s had a fight with his wife – he storms
into the locker rooms and mumbles incoherently about marrying a woman like his
mother. But he adores his wife and both his daughters. He’s the kind of man I
wish I could be.
Maybe someday.

“Hey
Mrs Coach,” I tease affectionately, knowing how much she hates it when we call
her that. She swats my arm playfully with a dishtowel and chuckles. “You boys
better be behavin’ over here!”

“Of
course we are Mrs Coach, we’re the most well behaved boys on the team,” Brody
quips. He’s lying. We both know how much shit we’re capable of getting
ourselves into especially when we team up. We’ve been partners in crime for
what feels like forever.

“Can
I get you boys the usual? Bacon, eggs, french fries and coffee?”

“Yes
please ma’am,” Brody and I respond in unison, causing us to laugh. She smiles
at us affectionately for a brief second and then saunters off to place our
order.
 

Out
of the corner of my eye I see Brody’s expression harden suddenly, his playful
disposition evaporating in the blink of an eye. “Well if it isn’t the she-devil
herself,” he barks. I turn to look at who he’s talking about and immediately
regret my decision when Rebecca walks through the door. Her fiery red hair
flicks over her shoulders as she sashays her way toward our table. Her hips
sway and her signature sneer sits firmly on the edges of her ruby red lips.
She’s gorgeous but the problem is she knows it. She flaunts it, uses it to
manipulate the people around her. She uses her body for that too and as much as
I hate to admit it, Rebecca is a real hell cat between the sheets. Our
‘relationship’ is purely physical and until now I still haven’t been with
anyone who can get my body to react the way she does.

 
I notice how the normal physical reaction
I have when I look at her isn’t there anymore. Yup, it’s time to move on.
Love ‘em and leave ‘em
I always say.

She
stops at our table and glares at Brody. “Ha, that was almost a good one Brody,
come up with that all on your own?” she snaps. She turns her attention to me
and I stiffen. “Hey babe!” she drawls. “Why didn’t you call me last night? I
missed you.” Her voice goes from virulent to syrupy sweet in less than a
heartbeat. I never noticed before and if I’m being honest I hate it. She bites
her lip and traces her long nails up my arm suggestively. I’m waiting for my
dick to stir, a tell-tale sign that her flirty little moves turn me on.

But
there’s nothing. Not even a twitch.

“I
was busy Rebecca.” My voice is cold and flat and I know I’m being an asshole
but it’s time to end this. I didn’t sign up for a girlfriend and certainly not
a possessive one at that, which Rebecca knew from the start. I should’ve known
she’d get attached, they always do.

I
hear her say something but it falls away when my eyes land on someone else. My
breath catches in my throat and it’s like all time is standing still, freezing
this moment before it flies past too quickly. Nothing else exists.

Her
blonde hair is pulled up high in a messy bun with a few loose tendrils hanging
in her face. She’s wearing a white sundress that compliments her sun kissed
skin and red cowboy boots that make her legs look they go on forever.
God have mercy… those legs…
My mind goes
straight to conjuring up images of seeing her in nothing but those red boots.

Damn…

I
don’t think Blondie can get any hotter but then she proves me wrong when she
laughs, a light choral sound that echoes through every bone in my body and
settles itself in the core of my stomach. I am completely transfixed, my eyes
following her every move until she disappears into the kitchen.

“Hello,
Grayson? Are you listening to me?” Rebecca’s screech is like a cold shower. My
heartbeat slows, returning to its normal rhythm and everything around me comes
back into focus. “Yeah Rebecca, he heard you! But he was too busy checkin’ out
Huntley Morgan to give a shit about what comes out of that mouth of yours,”
Brody growls. I inwardly curse myself, not for staring but for doing it so
shamelessly. But I couldn’t help it. My eyes were drawn to her like magnets and
I wouldn’t have been able to look away even if I wanted to. I’m a hot blooded
male after all and when God makes something that perfect its only right to show
some appreciation for His handy work.

Wait,
did Brody say her name was Huntley Morgan? How the hell does he know who she
is?

Rebecca
huffs and storms off to her friends’ table while Brody snickers. He finds this
situation hilarious. “Thanks Bro,” I snap, irritated. “Now I’m never going to
hear the end of it.”
 
Not that I
care.

“Whatever,
it’s time someone put that she-devil in her damn place. She doesn’t own you
Gray. You yourself said she was nothing more than a warm body and last time I
checked that did not equate to girlfriend status.”

I
can’t argue with that. He’s right.

“How
do you know her name anyway?” I ask sounding a little too eager, even to my own
ears. My curiosity has gotten the better of me;
her name alone has piqued my interest. Brody takes a second to
realise who I’m talking about and then looks me dead in the eye while
formulating his response. His mouth pulls up into half a grin and I know I’m
caught. It’s the first time in 2 years that I’ve shown a real interest in a
girl. I stop myself from thinking about it though.

 
Don’t go there Gray… You need to move on…

“Mrs
Coach introduced us when I got here. She’s the niece Coach has warned us all to
stay away from.” There’s a warning in his eyes. “So be nice Gray, but don’t be
whippin’ out that entire home grown Southern charm all at once. She’s not just
another freshman you can toy with.” I grin. No girl has ever been able to resist
my ‘home grown Southern charm’.

The
kitchen door swings open and Huntley heads straight for our table. I watch how
her dress flows with the movement of her legs, hitting her just above the knee.
The closer she gets the further up my gaze travels, ending
  
on her face when she stops in front
of us. “Here you go, two coffees,” she says, placing our coffees on the table.
“Your food will be out in a minute.” She smiles at me and Brody clears his
throat. I’m gawking like an idiot. When Brody kicks me under the table I snap
out of the stupor and gingerly smile back at her. “Thanks” is all I manage to
say since my voice has pulled a Houdini on me. How convenient.

“Huntley,
this is Grayson,” Brody says, waving his arm in my direction. “He’s our star
quarterback and my pain in the ass best friend.”

“It’s
nice to meet you. I’m Huntley.” She sticks her hand out and I take it. My hand
looks gigantic in comparison and envelopes hers easily. “So you’re the brat
Coach has been talking about non-stop,” I tease, glad to have returned to my
confident self. The slight blush in her cheeks is barely noticeable but hell
it’s so cute.