Текст книги "Roped In"

Автор книги: L. P. Dover

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Hadley

Eight Months Later

Belonging to a small community was better than I thought it would be. When everyone around Jackson Hole first realized who I was, it was a little crazy, but now they treated me just like everyone else. I didn’t have to worry about walking down the street and having a gazillion people trying to chase me down for autographs. However, a lot of that was probably due to Blake always being with me.

“Do I have to be blindfolded?” I asked. For months, Blake had had contractors and builders out at our house, designing and constructing a separate house of sorts. It was almost like a small version of his ranch, just enough room for maybe two bedrooms. I had no clue what was going in there or what it was for. Today was reveal day. “You’re not going to invite my dad to live here are you?”

Chuckling, Blake guided me through the door. “Fuck that shit. I might be impressed with how he’s butted out of your life, but I don’t want the man living here. This is our space.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I love him to death, but I don’t want him living here either.” It took a few months for our relationship to get back on track, but I was glad to have him back in my life. He was trying hard to make up for what he did.

“Are you ready to see your surprise?”

“Yes,” I squealed, jumping up and down. Blake took off the blindfold and I gasped. I stood in the living room and gazed around. “It’s so beautiful, Blake.” There was a kitchen off to the right and a set of stairs to the left. “But, what is it for?”

Taking my hand, he walked me through the house. “Now that you’re here with me full-time, I know you still have work to do and people you want to see. If your dad, Felicity, or anyone else wants to visit, they can stay out here, away from us. But that’s not the real reason either.” There was a closed door down the hall and he stopped in front of it. “This room is for you.” He opened the door and I froze in awe.

“Holy shit.” It was a recording studio, filled with top of the line equipment.

“Now you won’t have to fly to California to record. We can have your producers come out here.”

I fiddled with the dials on the control surface and sat down. “This is amazing. How did you think to do this?”

He sat down beside me. “I figured it’d help cut down on your travel time. Plus, you can always come in here and sing in privacy. I know you like to have your space when you’re writing.”

Grasping his face in my hands, I kissed him. “You know I don’t have that fear anymore. I love singing to you and talking to you about my songs.”

“And I love listening to you. But I want you to know you have this space, if you need it,” he murmured.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” I took one last look around and smiled. “Let me guess, you used a decent-sized chunk of that ten million on this?”

Smirking, he lifted me up into his arms. “I figured I’d spend it on you. It’s a good investment, is it not?”

“Yes, definitely. The more time I get to spend at home the better.”

Our wedding, only one week away, was going to be at our house, but the ceremony would be outside. It was more of a secret affair and only a dozen or so people were invited, including Felicity and Nick. I couldn’t wait to see them again. Nick was in a serious relationship already, and planned on popping the question while in Wyoming.

Grabbing my hand, Blake pulled me outside and across the yard. When we got to the barn, he winked. “I have another surprise for you. You’re going to love this.”

“Oh yeah? How much am I going to love it?” He chuckled and I had a feeling I knew what he was up to. “Does it involve ropes? Maybe a little sexy time in the hay? It’s definitely been too long since we got dirty in the barn.”

“Ugh, I didn’t need to hear that,” a voice griped from behind.

Blake burst out laughing and I yelped, slapping a hand to my chest. The voice didn’t belong to just anyone; it came from a certain Irish mobster. Only now, he wasn’t in his usual attire, but in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a cowboy hat.

I closed my eyes and then opened them up again, convinced I was going crazy. “Okay, I’m not hallucinating. What the hell are you doing here?” Over the past few months, he’d sent emails to check up on me, but I had no clue where he was.

Connor rolled his eyes. “What? You’ve never seen an Irish cowboy?”

“Not exactly.” Blake tried to hold back a laugh and failed. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” I asked.

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Plus, I needed a new ranch hand. Tyla will love bossing him around.” He and Connor shared a look I couldn’t decipher; there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Are you sure that’s it?”

Sighing, he pulled me into his arms. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I have a lot of enemies out there and having the extra security will give me peace of mind.”

“Do you think the Irish will try to retaliate?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think they will, but if they do, Connor will know how to spot them. It might not be so bad having the old man around.”

Connor snorted. “Old man, my ass. I’ve only got you by five years, you shithead.”

They bantered back and forth and I couldn’t help but laugh. Having Connor there was going to be interesting, but I knew I’d enjoy it.

Staring up at Blake, I couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly at peace. The thought of living with him for the rest of my life filled me with joy. He was mine and I was his. He had me completely roped in.

High-Sided (Armed & Dangerous)

Logan’s story

Coming August 2016

Read other titles by L.P. Dover

NEW YORK TIMES and USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can’t forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.

Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written countless novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.

L.P. Dover is represented by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency.

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Also, keep reading to get a sneak peek at The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire by Heidi McLaughlin

© 2015

Tyler

Savannah McGuire, the girl who was taken from Rivers Crossing years ago by her power-hungry mother, is due to return. I’m excited and nervous, a deadly combination. Diagnosis: pure anxiety. My palms are sweaty, my leg is bouncing up and down and I don’t know why. Sure, it’s been five years since we’ve seen or spoken to each other, but her coming back here shouldn’t make me feel like I’m about to go on a date with Miss America.

When I see the old Greyhound bus come rumbling down the road, I straighten in my seat, clutching the steering wheel until my knuckles are white with tension. I’ve known about her return for a week now, but haven’t let the news set in that my one-time best friend is returning. Half of me thought this day would never happen because something would prevent her from coming home. I’m still not convinced that it will be her getting off the bus in a few seconds.

The Greyhound comes to a halt, its brakes squealing from the pressure. The door swings open and my eyes instantly scan the windows to see if I can spot Savannah. I hold my breath when I see candy-apple-red heels hitting the last step before reaching the cracked pavement. Her long blonde hair sways lightly from the exhaust blowing behind her. It’s stifling out and this is as much of a breeze as she’s going to get. She moves her head back and forth just like those stupid hair commercials my mom is always watching. She looks up and down the road before setting her hands on her hips. I shake my head, knowing that this ain’t my Savannah.

The bus isn’t pulling away so I know Savannah is still on it. I lean into the steering wheel to get a better look. The blonde side steps and allows the next passenger off the bus. This is my Savannah, with her shoulder-length brown hair and oversized clothes. She was always wearing her Uncle Bobby’s shirts when we were younger, afraid of how her body was changing. Jeremiah used to call her Mouse, and he’ll be happy to see that she hasn’t changed.

After throwing my shoulder into the door, I hop out and clap my hands once out of excitement. I rush over to Savannah and pick her up, twirling her around. “God, I’ve missed you. Are you ready to have the best summer of your life?”

“Uh, put me down, please.”

Fulfilling her request, but not ready to let go, I pull her into a hug. Her hands push firmly against my chest as she steps away. Savannah brushes off her clothes as if I’ve contaminated them. The blonde clears her throat and smiles. I roll my eyes. I know it’s probably real hard for her to stand here and watch this reunion, but it’s not my fault that her family isn’t here on time. By her looks, I’m sure she gets all the attention she wants.

“Are you ready to go, Savannah?”

“Yes, I am.” The blonde speaks up. I look at her. With her hand on her hip, she taps her toe on the ground and smirks.

“Look ma’am, I’m sorry your kinfolk aren’t here to get ya and if ya want we can wait, but I’m sure they’ll be along soon.” I reach for Savannah’s bags, but her hand stops me.

“I don’t know you,” she says quietly as she removes my hand from her suitcase.

“Excuse me?” I question, as I stand tall. “What do you mean you don’t know me?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know you and my name’s not Savannah.”

“Mine is though, and just wait until I tell my Uncle Bobby how you tried to take someone else home, Tyler King.”

Slowly turning and eyeing the statuesque blonde, my heart stops beating. The smirk is back, or it never left. I step closer so I can see what happened to the mousy brunette I used to know. Her gaze follows mine and I look her over. She’s taller, leaner and, besides the obvious hair color change, looks nothing like she did when she left here. Her teeth are straight and missing the metal that used to clog her mouth. There’s no way this woman is only seventeen years old.

I swallow hard and break eye contact. This ain’t gonna be good. When I thought she was this other girl, I pictured us hanging out. Now that I’m looking at her, the hanging out idea doesn’t seem to be the best thing for me. One thing’s for sure: New York did a number on my Savannah.

“Wow, Savannah.”

She nods, pursing her lips. “It’s Vanna,” she informs me as she stalks past me toward my truck. I follow her and mentally scold myself when my eyes fall on her cotton-covered ass. The mousy-non-Savannah mocks me in disgust. I run my hand over the back of my neck and sigh.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” I say. “Um… do you need a ride?”

She shakes her head and I deduce that I’m better off just leaving her. I’ve already embarrassed her and myself enough to last us a lifetime. I pick up Savannah’s bags and hustle back to the truck. I have a feeling it’s gonna be one long summer and once her Uncle Bobby sees her he’s gonna flip. She’s going to be every man’s wet dream in a forty-mile radius and I just know I’m going to be tasked with taking care of her. Just call me the glorified babysitter of the mousy farm girl turned New York socialite.

I remember the day she left. I thought her momma was joking when she said they were moving, so when they packed their bags and got into the car, I was left standing there, stunned. I was so hurt that I refused to say good-bye. We didn’t promise to write or even call each other. We were too young for those types of commitments. Watching her being driven away from me is my most vivid memory and one that has been replaying in my mind for the past week.

I was fifteen when she left. We’d grown up together, attending the same school, church and having Sunday suppers on her uncle’s wrap-around porch. Our mommas always joked that we’d end up married to each other as soon as she turned eighteen and we’d start spitting out babies. After a while, I just believed them. It seemed like destiny. That was until my teenage hormones kicked in, and when I discovered girls, Savannah wanted nothing to do with me. She caught me a time or two with my hands in places they shouldn’t have been and each time she’d just pretend like nothing was happening.

Even though our mommas wanted us to get married, there is an age difference between us and I matured faster. Savannah was quiet and shy, never really showing any interest in anything but her horse. Living in a small town, people have expectations and there was one on her and me, but it wasn’t like I could take her out on a date or anything. Looking at her now, I wish I could’ve.

I climb into the cab of my truck and pull the door shut. She jumps in and clutches her purse tightly to her body. I let my hand dangle over the steering wheel thinking about all the things I want to say to her. Right now the only thing forming is the idiotic sentence of “damn, you grew up”, but I have a feeling that will earn me a slap and I’d rather save that for later in the barn. I instantly chide myself for thinking I’ll get her to the barn like that. She just got here and I’m sure she has a rich pretty boy waiting on her back home.

“Hello, Savannah. Long time no see.” She adjusts slightly, turning farther away from me, and stares out her window. Her mood has changed from somewhat friendly to icy cold. I don’t blame her. The warm reception I gave the other woman was probably what she was expecting and didn’t get.

“It’s Vanna.”

I want to laugh at how straight-laced she sounds but hold back. Something tells me she’s turned into a spitfire and that would be the spark to set her off. I’ve already pissed her off enough for one day. Her uncle said something about her getting into trouble one too many times at school and that her momma is too busy with her job to keep her under control. Apparently the answer was to send her back to where she got her start, even if she’s not going to fit in around these parts anymore.

“Savannah,” I reply purposely. There’s no way in hell I’m calling her Vanna after that middle-aged letter turner that my grandma watches nightly.

She huffs, but doesn’t say anything. I get the impression that she’s used to getting her way, especially with men. Sadly for her, life doesn’t work like that in these parts.

“How far ‘til my uncle’s house?”

I look out the windshield, pretending I need to gauge the distance. I shrug. “Twenty minutes or so.”

“Well, shouldn’t we get moving?”

I shake my head and mentally kick my own ass for how this day has started. I’d like a redo, please. Hell yeah I’d jump out of this truck and scoop her up in my arms if I knew what she had grown into, but I was remembering my reserved Savannah, not the model sitting next to me.

Cranking my key to start the engine, I’m happy for the loud roar to drown out my thoughts about her and us… in the barn. It’s never gonna happen so I just need to stop thinking about it. I need to remember mud pie, cow tippin’ and catching lightnin’ bugs.

“Hang on tight, sweetheart.” I press down on the gas as I throw my truck into drive. She slams back against the seat, her door barely closed. I’m trying not to laugh but her high-pitched squeal is cracking me up. She’s turned into such a girly girl that someone is going to have to break her out of it and it ain’t gonna be me.

The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire is available now!

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written consent from the author.

Roped In

L.P. Dover

Copyright 2015 by L.P. Dover

Editor: Victoria Schmitz at Crimson Tide Editorial

Cover Design by: Regina Wamba www.maeidesign.com

Model: Joshua Gawrysiak

Interior designed & formatted by:

www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

Table of Contents

Title Page

Books by L.P. Dover

About Roped In

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

About the Author

ALSO CHECK OUT THESE EXTRAORDINARY AUTHORS & BOOKS

THE REEDUCATION OF SAVANNAH MCGUIRE

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