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MARY E THOMPSON

it's a curvy road to happily ever after

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His Curvy Fantasy, chapter one

August 15, 2022 by Mary Leave a Comment

Hudson

“No. Hell no. It’s not gonna happen. You just need to quit asking.” I glared at my supposed friend and resisted the urge to snap his neck. 

“Come on, Hud. You know this is the best option. You can’t pick up women at your own bar. And you’re not gonna talk to them outside here because you never leave,” James argued. James Rucker was one of my oldest friends, and should have been on my side. Instead, he was leading the damn charge. 

“I already told you I’m not interested in online dating. That shit is weird.” 

“That shit got me Trinity.” 

“She hated you.” 

“Exactly. She never would have given me the time of day if she’d known she was talking to me. Karissa is a genius. She created something that allows us to meet people and get to know them without it being all weird.” 

“What if I meet some freak?” I asked. I heard the stories. It wasn’t just men that were freaks. There were some women that went nuts and did crazy shit, too. I didn’t want some wacko following me home and stalking me. 

“You might, but take it slow. You don’t have to meet someone in person after talking to them once. Just sign up for the account, and if you can’t figure out how to talk to someone, I’ll help you.” 

I snorted and shook my head. “I can talk to women.” 

“Yeah? How about that one? Go flirt with her.” 

I looked in the direction James pointed and found a gorgeous woman at the end of the bar. She wore a plain white tee and jeans. I’d noticed her when she walked in. Ordered a whiskey neat. She was definitely my kind of woman, but a decade or so too young for me. 

“She’s half my age.” 

“So? You can’t talk to a woman who isn’t the same age as you? You know there aren’t a ton of single women your age.” 

I glanced at the woman again. “I don’t need to prove anything to you. Why am I even thinking about this?” 

James lifted his drink off the bar and shrugged. “Fine. Don’t talk to her. But don’t blame me when you have a date that goes sideways because you haven’t talked to a woman in #a decade about more than her choice of drink.” 

I growled as he walked away. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I needed to like it. 

I glanced at the woman again. She was twirling her straw in her drink and looking around. She had a distinct not-interested vibe about her. Which was fine since I wasn’t interested either. She was an experiment. 

No. A woman wasn’t an experiment. She was a person. Someone my asshole friend thought I couldn’t have a conversation with. 

I walked over, checking on the few customers at the bar before her. 

She looked up at me as I approached and pasted on a tolerant smile. 

“Need another drink?” I asked her. I groaned internally. I was proving James’s point. 

“I’m good.” 

“Are you waiting for someone?” 

She casually assessed me. Her gaze slid down my body, dismissing me entirely before she returned her cool gaze to my face. “I am. A friend.” 

“Maybe it’s someone I know. I know a lot of people. Pretty much everyone. Except you, of course.” 

She nodded and eased off her stool. “I think maybe I’ll wait at a table.” 

I opened my mouth to argue that I wasn’t trying to be a creep, but it was useless. She was gone, and I was definitely being a creep. 

Dammit. 

I hated when Rucker was right. He’d never let me live it down. Of course, that was assuming he knew. 

I went back to work, ignoring the churning in my gut. I didn’t like the woman thinking she might not be safe in my bar. She was just enjoying her drink and I had to go and make it weird. Because of James. If he’d just left well enough alone, I wouldn’t have talked to that woman. I didn’t need to practice talking to women. It would be fine when I met someone. 

Growling at my own stupidity, I poured another whiskey and added a scoop of ice. The woman was sitting at a table by herself. She watched the door, her back to me. 

I told Jonathan, the other bartender working with me for the night, that I’d be back in a minute and carried the drink to the woman’s table. I set it down next to the one she already had. 

“I thought you could use a refill.” I clasped my hands together and smiled at her. 

“I’m good. Thanks.” She avoided my gaze, hers locked on the door. 

“I just wanted to apologize. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.” 

“And your apology is to get my drunk so you can take advantage of me? Or did you put something in this drink so you can be the hero and offer to take me home? What is wrong with you?” She glared at me, drawing back like she thought I was going to strike her. 

“What? No. I didn’t do any of that. I was just trying to be nice.” 

“Nice guys don’t make women feel like they’re about to be assaulted!” She jumped to her feet and grabbed the drink. She tossed it in my face before I had a chance to react. “Leave me alone!” 

She raced toward the door, grabbing the arm of another woman the second she walked in the door. She pointed to me, and the two of them left. 

I stood there watching them, whiskey dripping off my face and soaking into my shirt. 

“What was that all about?” #server asked, offering me a towel. 

“I was just trying to be nice.” 

“How nice were you trying to be?” 

I growled at her and snatched the towel from her hand. I stalked past the bar and straight to my office. I wiped my face and patted at my shirt, knowing nothing would erase the shame I felt. 

What the hell did I do? 

I yanked my shirt off and slammed my way into my bathroom. I shoved a paper towel under the faucet, wiping at the sticky liquor on my chest. Dammit. 

When I was clean, or at least not sticky, I grabbed a new shirt and pulled in on. Jonathan could handle things for a little while. I needed a break. 

Five minutes later, a knock on the door said my time was up. 

“What?” 

“You ready for that app yet?” James asked as he opened the door. 

“Fuck you, asshole.” 

“Is that what you said to that poor woman before she threw a drink in your face?” 

“Why is it my middle finger gets a hard-on whenever I see you?” I showed him. 

James snickered. “Man, you’re just asking for it tonight. What did you say to that woman?” 

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything. I asked how her drink was and if she was waiting for someone. I thought I could tell her if the person she was waiting for had been there or something. She thought I was hitting on her. I brought the drink over to apologize and she asked if I roofied it.” 

James doubled over, holding his gut. 

He was going to need to hold his gut if he didn’t pull his ass off the damn floor real soon. 

“This is even better than I thought. Dude, you need help. How in the hell did you snag Hillary?” 

I shrugged. Hillary was my world. We met in college and fell in love. Everything was easy with her. We sat next to each other in class one day and started talking and clicked. She was supposed to be my forever, but an icy road ended that dream. 

“You’re even worse off than I thought. I need to call in reinforcements.” James had his phone out before he finished talking. 

“No, please don’t,” I said as my phone buzzed in my pocket. Then buzzed again. And again. 

Group text. Kill me now. 

“Most of the guys are busy,” James said a minute and dozens of texts later. “Ian’s on his way.” 

What did I do to deserve this? Oh, yeah, I let these assholes be my friends. 

James left me alone so sulk and stew while he went back out to the bar. His #girlfriend, Trinity, was with him, so I hoped she’d drag him back home, but when they both walked into my office a few minutes later, I knew I was in trouble. 

“I hear we’re signing you up for online dating,” Trinity said, rubbing her hands together. “I can’t believe he finally talked you into it.” 

“I never said that,” I argued. 

Trinity turned to James with narrowed eyes. “You said he was on board.” 

“I said he needs to be on board. He could have lost O’Kelley’s. That woman accused him of trying to date rape her. I’m an officer of the law. I could arrest him.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Trinity said, getting up in James’ face. “You know Hudson would never do that.” 

“Sure I do, but clearly the woman he was failing to flirt with didn’t.” 

“You were trying to flirt with her?” Trinity asked in a voice most people reserved for puppies and babies. One I was not okay with having directed at me. 

“Oh, God, no. Do not. I can’t handle this,” I told them, standing from behind my desk with every intention of throwing them out of my office. 

“Can’t handle what?” Ian asked, letting himself in as I was trying to escort the others out. “Whoa, what’s going on?” 

“Hudson tried to flirt with a customer and she thought he roofied her, so we’re going to get him signed up for Karissa’s app and teach him how to talk to women, since he’s finally ready to date again,” James explained. 

“I changed my mind. I’m not ready to date. No more dating. I’m done. I’m good by myself,” I said. 

“Dude, chill. It’s fine. We’ll set it all up and you can practice flirting with Blake. Trinity?” Ian looked at Trinity, and she nodded. “All the women will let you flirt with them.” 

“I’m going to kill myself,” I muttered. 

“It’s not that bad, Hudson,” Trinity said. “Dating isn’t easy, but you’re a gorgeous man who’s kind and sweet and you have half the women out there lusting after you.” 

“Hey!” James shouted. 

Trinity shrugged while I smirked. 

“It’s true, babe. But you’re the one I go home with. You can’t be jealous.” Trinity blew him a kiss. 

“Sure I can. You shouldn’t be calling my friend gorgeous,” James pouted. 

Trinity rolled her eyes. She tossed her brown ringlets behind her shoulder and focused on me. 

“You never have trouble talking to me. Dating isn’t so different from any other conversation. Why did you talk to the woman?” 

I pointed at her rat of a #boyfriend. “James made me.” 

Trinity turned back to him with a scolding look on her face. “Why did you make him flirt with someone? And why did you tell him to be all weird and creepy?” 

“I’m not taking the blame for that! I told him to talk to a woman about something other than what she wants to drink. He was weird and creepy all on his own.” 

I rolled my eyes. “I think it’s time for you guys to go. All of you. I will figure out what I want to do. Right now, I need to work.” 

They protested, but I shooed them out of my office anyway. To keep up the pretense, I followed them out and settled behind the bar. 

“You good, boss?” Jonathan asked. 

I nodded and moved to the other end of the bar to take orders. At least I knew I could handle that. 

* * *

O’Kelley’s was closed. The lights were off and the place was empty. I should have gone home, but for some reason, I was in my office looking up Karissa’s app. 

I’d downloaded it before, but I never created an account. I never wanted to. I wasn’t ready to date. Still wasn’t sure I was, but seeing my friends fall in love made me more than a little jealous. I wanted that again. Someone to come home to. Someone who was watching for me. Someone who would walk in and smile just because I was there. 

Before I could talk myself out of signing up, I tapped to create an account. The first thing it asked for was a screen name. 

Screen name. What the hell? How was I supposed to know what to pick. I didn’t want to sign up for online dating. I wanted to meet a woman the way I met Hillary. In a casual, comfortable, normal way. I was being forced to do things this way. 

I tapped the side of my phone for a minute, then rolled my eyes at myself and typed HereByForce. 

Next. 

Holy shit. Page one of seven. It was going to take all damn night to fill out the stupid survey. 

I groaned and dove in. It was better than not doing it at all. And then when online dating didn’t work out, I could tell them all I tried. That the only people who met online were freaks and that it wasn’t for me. 

An hour later, I was finally done. My eyes felt like sandpaper and my throat felt full of cotton. I needed water and a bed. 

Home wasn’t far. The bungalow I bought a few years ago was sufficient for me. Three bedrooms, one-and-a-half baths with a small eat-in kitchen and a living room. It was good enough for me. 

* * *

I overslept the next morning. I never overslept. I was always up at the crack of damn dawn, but I overslept. And worse, I had another dream about Anna. 

I was not happy. 

I showered and pulled on clean clothes, then raced the three blocks to O’Kelley’s. Everything was locked and closed up because I was the only one working the lunch shift. It was only ten minutes later than I was supposed to open, but that meant I was going to be playing catch-up for the rest of the day because I should have been there an hour ago. 

No one was waiting outside, so I flipped the OPEN sign on and went straight to the back. I started up the grill and the oven and did a quick inventory of what we had on hand and what we were running low on. #Cook would get me a list by the end of the week, but since I was in the kitchen, I wanted to know what I had. 

I’d barely finished getting things started when I heard the door open. I checked my watch and saw it was already almost noon, which meant the small lunch rush would be starting soon. 

I tied an apron around my waist and slid my ball cap on my head and pushed through the kitchen door to see who was in the bar. 

And froze. 

Anna Charlotte. 

“Do you have our lunch ready?” she asked. No hello, no how are you, no anything. Just barking like a rabid dog. 

“What lunch?” I had no idea what she was talking about. 

Anna crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. I noticed the second one much later than the first because crossing her arms meant plumping up those breasts that were featured in my dreams. 

Son-of-a-bitch. 

I adjusted my hardening cock and leaned closer to the counter so there was no chance she could see the morning wood I was sporting. Yeah, that was my excuse. 

“Finley said she texted you earlier with a lunch order. She told me to come get it because you always have it ready. Her words, not mine. Clearly, she was wrong.” 

My brain took a few seconds to register what she was saying with those full, round breasts on display for me. Jesus, did the woman have to wear a shirt that showed off that much cleavage? I swear to God, I could see half her boobs. Not that I was complaining, but shit. 

“I don’t have my phone with me,” I finally blurted. “What was the order for?” 

“How do you run a business?” 

“I do quite well for myself, thanks,” I barked. 

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, I can see that.” She gestured around my vacant bar. 

“Whatever. Do you want lunch or not?” 

“Yeah, but I’m wasting my entire lunch break talking to you. I can’t wait for you to make something. I’ll figure something else out. And I’ll make sure Finley knows we can’t trust you to have food ready.” 

Anna stomped out with a huff and a sway of her tempting hips. 

The door slammed shut behind her, and I finally took a breath. Anna Charlotte was as far off limits as a woman could get. I really needed to get my dick on the same page as me on that one because it was never going to happen. Ever. 

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Filed Under: Amazing Books, Book Boyfriends Wanted, Writer Words Tagged With: Book Boyfriends, Book Boyfriends Wanted, Coming Soon, His Curvy Fantasy, My Books

Framed, chapter one

June 27, 2022 by Mary

Who knew a crushed skull would bleed so much? 

Jessica German looked down at her best friend. Karli’s dark hair was wet where her head had been smashed in. Blood pooled beneath her, soaking into the carpet and dripping from the ends of her curls. The formerly appealing smell of piping hot pizza Jessica carried into the apartment blended with the metallic scent of blood in the air. 

So much blood. 

What was she supposed to do? Try to stop the bleeding? She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, then pressed it to Karli’s head. The softness of her broken skull sent a sickening flush over Jessica’s body. That wasn’t normal. 

Jessica reached down and pressed her shaking fingers against Karli’s neck. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? Did she suck at that, or was there no pulse? Jessica reached up to her own neck and felt the rapid thump of her heart beating. She repositioned her fingers on Karli’s neck. Nothing. 

Jessica was supposed to be there to tell Karli all about her first date with Braden, a date that didn’t end until early that morning with a promise for date two very soon, but Karli was dead. Dead dead, not dead tired or dead drunk, but head smashed in, brains visible kind of dead. 

Jessica’s stomach flipped and threatened to add to the messy scene. Instead, she choked it back and dug out her phone, her gaze never leaving Karli’s lifeless body. 

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?” 

“My friend is dead. She’s not moving.” 

“Okay. What is your address?” 

“Nine-thirty-seven Mist Avenue. Apartment Three-B.” 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I was just bringing dinner. Her head… There’s so much blood.” 

“Why did you kill her?” 

“What? I didn’t kill her!” 

“Then why did it take you so long to call?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“There are already officers on their way to the apartment. One of the neighbors said they heard shouting and a woman with short, dark hair ran out, covered in blood. Where are you, Ms. German?” 

“How do you know my name?” Every hair on Jessica’s body stood on end. An icy chill swept over her. She looked around like she was being watched. 

“The name the phone is registered to comes up when you call. Are you at home?” 

“No. I’m…” Jessica stared down at Karli. She couldn’t admit she was at Karli’s. Then the police would arrest her. But they were already on the way. 

“Ms. German, stay where you are. The police need answers from you.” 

Jessica tapped her screen to end the call. She looked at her friend once more, choking back tears. Karli was dead. 

Sirens echoed in the distance. Not close, but Jessica knew they were coming for her. For Karli. To try to save what was already gone. And to take her to jail for something she didn’t do. 

She couldn’t sit there and wait. She did nothing wrong. They would figure it out. But she had to go. Now. 

The hallway was empty when Jessica walked into it. There were stairs and an elevator, and Jessica chose the stairs. If she was lucky, she could get down them and out of the building before anyone saw her, and before the police arrived. 

“Excuse me,” a man said, bumping into her as she turned the corner on the first floor. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.” 

“I’m fine,” Jessica said quickly, looking down at where Karli’s blood had stained her jeans and tee. 

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of blood.” 

Jessica ignored the man and kept going. She raced the rest of the way down the stairs and pushed the emergency exit door to go out into the alley next to the building. 

She pulled her purse in front of the blood stain and rushed to her car. She’d just closed the door when two police cars and an ambulance screeched to a stop in front of the building. 

Jessica didn’t waste time pulling away from the curb and turning in the opposite direction. She needed to change and find out what the hell was going on. 

* * *

Braden Wright kept his phone next to him waiting for any piece of news. He hated leaving his bed that morning, especially when it was full of a warm, curvy, beautiful woman, but Jessica said she understood and didn’t hesitate to get up and leave when Braden’s closest friend, Wray, called and asked Braden to watch the boys. 

Braden didn’t know everything that was going on with Wray and his wife, but he knew enough to know Stacey could be in deep shit. The one and only text Wray sent said he was heading to the police station because Stacey was arrested. 

It was almost laughable to think of Stacey Allen ever hurting anyone, but people did crazy things when someone they cared about was in danger. 

“Uncle Braden, can we play a game?” Joey asked. 

“Absolutely, bud. What do you want to play?” 

“Outside?” 

“Let’s go.” Braden smiled at the boys. He loved them like they were his own. Wray was his family, and his boys were Braden’s heart. After his tumultuous childhood, Braden wasn’t sure he’d ever have a family, but when Wray and Stacey got married, he was a little jealous. He wanted that, too, but he never admitted it out loud. 

He’d also never met anyone he could picture a life with. Until last night. 

“I throw to you, and you throw to Evan, and he throws to me,” Joey said. 

Braden looked at three-year-old Evan and shook his head. “How about you throw to me, and Evan can toss back when he’s in the mood?” 

Joey shrugged. He was a good big brother. Braden was the youngest of four and knew how important it was to have older siblings that were amazing. He had three of them. He was closest to Taylor, the oldest, but the other two were always there for him if he needed it. 

Joey tossed the soft football to Braden, then caught it when Braden threw it back. Evan ran around in the yard, jumping up like he was going to catch the ball when it sailed over his head. 

“Do you want to play?” Braden asked. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I likes football.” 

Braden nodded and gently tossed the ball to Evan. He reached for it and missed by a mile, the ball sliding between his arms and hitting him in the chest before landing on the ground. He picked it up and threw it back to Braden, then went to his swingset and scrambled up the stairs toward the slide. 

Braden kept an eye on Evan and played catch with Joey. He stifled a yawn, the product of a long night between the thighs of Jessica German, and grinned. 

“Why are you smiling?” Joey asked. 

Braden quickly schooled his features, but it was obviously too late. “I was just thinking about something a friend said yesterday.” 

“What friend?” 

“Her name is Jessica.” 

“What did she say?” 

Braden thought quick to come up with something other than the sexy words Jessica whispered when he sank into her the first time. “I’ve never come that hard.” His dick swelled with his chest when she confessed that. He didn’t think she meant to say it, but all it did was make him want to try harder to please her. 

“She said she could throw a ball harder than me.” 

“My mommy can’t throw very hard. She said she’s not that strong, but she can still carry my brother so I know she’s strong,” Joey said. 

“Your mommy is very strong. She’s smart and creative and beautiful, too.” 

“Do you like my mommy?” Joey asked. 

“Very much. She’s a good friend of mine. I’m very happy she married your daddy because he loves her a lot.” 

“He almost messed it up, but he fixed it again.” 

Braden smiled. “Yes, he did. Are you guys hungry? Want a snack or lunch or something?” 

Both boys cheered and raced for the door. Food was always a good distraction with them. They were always hungry. 

It wasn’t too long after lunch when Wray and Stacey got home. Stacey went straight upstairs to shower, and Wray took over kid duty. He promised to get in touch later and give Braden an update. Braden understood that meant he couldn’t talk in front of the boys. And likely also meant Wray wouldn’t be in for their shift at the fire station that night. 

Braden made his way out with the promise that he would always be there to help with the boys if Wray or Stacey needed him. 

Sleep was important when Braden was working over night, but sleep evaded him. His pillow smelled like Jessica, and he couldn’t stop his mind from replaying their night over and over until his alarm went off. 

Braden dragged himself into the shower, then headed to work. He sent Jessica a text, but by the time he got to work there wasn’t a reply. He pushed it out of his mind and started his shift. 

There was a call early in the shift, then the team settled in for dinner. Braden went to the weight room to get out some of his pent up energy before eating. When he joined the rest of them, they were deep in conversation. 

“Hey, Wright, why is your date on the news?” asked Marcinko. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“That woman who works for your sister? Didn’t you go out with her?” 

“Yeah. So?” 

“She killed someone. She’s on the news.” Powers pointed to the TV screen where the news was on as Braden opened his mouth to argue. 

Then snapped it shut. 

“Police are looking for a suspect in the murder of a local woman tonight. Karli Sloane’s body was found in her apartment this afternoon. She was an art therapist and loved by her patients. A woman named Jessica German was seen fleeing Ms. Sloane’s apartment shortly before the body was found. This picture was taken from security cameras in Ms. Sloane’s apartment building. If anyone has any information about Ms. German’s whereabouts, you are asked to call the police.” 

Braden had seen some of the worst humanity had to offer in his years since joining the fire department, but finding out the woman he spent the night with was a murderer was more than a little shocking. 

Braden’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it, but when he saw it was his sister, he left the break room to find some privacy from his nosy coworkers. “I saw.” 

“It’s not true, Braden.” 

“How do you know?” 

Jessica had been Taylor’s assistant for years. They were close, even more since Taylor’s boyfriend knocked down a few of the walls she used to keep people at bay. Braden would forever be grateful to Dex for how happy he made Taylor. 

“She’s not that kind of person. You know this. You know her.” 

“Do I? Do you? Come on Tay-Tay, do we ever really know anyone? Do we need to talk about Dad?” 

“Dad is a monster. He’s different. This is Jessica. You were with her last night. How did she seem after your date?” 

Braden hardened at the thought. Their date was supposed to be dinner. Braden thought she was sweet and smart and Taylor wore him down, saying she thought they’d be good together. Braden asked Jessica out to get his sister off his back. He never expected to connect with Jessica the way he did. To not want the night to end and invite her back to his place. Or to carry her to his room and taste every inch of her sexy, curvy body. 

“Braden? Are you still there?” 

“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry. She was fine. I don’t know what you want me to say. Did she look like she was going to leave my place and kill her best friend? No.” 

“Whoa, wait. I thought you were meeting at the restaurant. Why was she at your house?” 

“Um, well…” 

“Hey! Give that back!” Taylor shouted, her voice far away. 

“You do not have to tell your sister anything,” Dex said. 

“She’s going to be pissed you stole her phone.” 

“She’ll get over it eventually. Listen, for what it’s worth, I can’t see Jessica doing what they said she did. She’s too sweet of a person. She’s not the type to snap, and she’s not the type to plan something like this. Trust me.” 

Braden really wanted to believe them. Taylor had a knack for seeing who a person truly was, which made her an amazing boss and business owner. Dex was a former SEAL with an undeniable talent for reading people. 

But no matter how much Braden wanted to believe them, and how much he thought the same, what he couldn’t understand was… “Why did she run?” 

Dex sighed, as if he expected the question. “I can’t answer that. Have you spoken to her?” 

“Not since she left this morning.” 

“This… I am not going to repeat that, but do you really think that little of the,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “woman you spent the night with?” 

“I don’t know, man. I’m going to try to call her. See if she’ll talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“I know you like to follow the rules, and I do, too, but you have to understand not everyone feels as though they can. We don’t know what was going through her mind, but maybe she’s a witness and doesn’t think she’s safe.” 

“They said she’s a suspect.” 

“I know, but Braden, don’t jump to conclusions yet.” 

“Too late.” 

Dex sighed. “Do you want us on this?” Dex was part owner of a group of former SEALs who helped protect the borders. 

“This isn’t what you guys do.” 

“We find people, and we protect people, and we uncover the truth. We will help find Jessica if you want us to.” 

Braden shook his head before he answered. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure there’s an explanation.” 

“I’m sure there is. If we hear anything, we’ll let you know.” 

“Thanks. And thanks for the wrath you’re about to face with Taylor.” 

Dex chuckled. “I can handle it. Keep in touch.” 

Braden nodded and hung up. He didn’t feel any better. 

He called Jessica, but it went to voicemail. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was still a disappointment to hear her recorded voice asking him to leave a message. 

“Hey, Jessica. I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you’re safe. If I can help you, call me.” 

Braden hung up and sent a text with a similar message, then stared at his phone. Now what? 

The voices and sounds of the rest of the crew filtered through the open space to him. Braden’s stomach growled. It was going to be a long night. Even longer if he didn’t eat. 

He ignored the other guys and carried a bowl of chili to the end of the table. A few of them gave him a side-eye, but he focused on his food instead of them. When he was done, he put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and went to the bunk room to call Jessica again. 

No answer. Again. He didn’t bother to leave another message. 

Where was she? And why didn’t she talk to the police? If she didn’t kill Karli, why was she running from Karli’s building? With blood on her shirt and jeans. 

He tried to lose himself in a movie on his phone, but he couldn’t focus, waiting for something from Jessica. He thought about going out to look for her, but he had no idea where she would be. The police had her name, which meant they also had her address, details about her car, her job, and had gone through her social media. Where would she go? 

Braden shook his head. It didn’t matter. He was going to go looking for her. He was working. And leaving in the middle of a shift would put his fellow firefighters at risk. 

His phone rang, and he dropped it. He scrambled to pick it up before the call went to voicemail and answered without looking at the screen. “Hello? Jessica?” 

“She was just here,” Wray said. 

“What? Why was she at your house?” 

“She came to talk to Stacey.” 

“Why?” 

“She said she didn’t kill Karli. Stacey believes her.” 

“That seems to be the common thread,” Braden grumbled. 

“You think she did it?” 

“I don’t know what to think. If she’s innocent, where the hell is she?” 

“Stacey said she was scared. And covered in blood. She risked coming to our house because she is worried about Raina.” 

“Who the hell is Raina?” 

“Karli had a roommate. Someone who was at the shelter until recently. They were old friends, and when Raina left the shelter, Karli agreed to take her in. Safety in numbers. Anyway, Jessica came here to tell Stacey to get in touch with Raina.” 

“That doesn’t sound like something a guilty woman would do.” 

“That’s what I said, too. I agree she should have gone to the police, but she’s probably in shock.” 

“All the more reason she shouldn’t be out there wandering around.” Braden told the battalion chief he had to run an errand and would be right back. 

“What are you doing?” Wray barked. 

“I’m going to find her. Make her go to the police station.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re working.” 

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to let a woman wander the streets alone? Why the hell did you let her leave your house?” Braden spat. 

“I didn’t know she was here until after she was gone. She knocked on the backdoor when I was putting the boys to bed. Stacey was the only one in the kitchen.” 

“How did she time that just right?” 

“She was probably watching us,” Wray said. 

“What were you saying about her being innocent?” 

“Just because she was watching us doesn’t mean she’s a killer. She wanted to protect Raina.” 

“Or she wants to draw her out.” 

“Why are you going out looking for her if you think she’s guilty?” 

Braden sighed and turned onto Wray’s street. He went slow, scanning both sides of the road for anyone walking around or hiding behind cars or trees or in backyards. He told himself he was too focused on his task to answer the question Wray asked. 

“You know she didn’t do this,” Wray answered for Braden. 

“I don’t know anything. But if people don’t follow the rules and trust the system, what good is the system?” 

“I think you’re asking for too much. People are fallible. We do it all the time. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to be better, but it means we have to accept that we’re all different and we all screw up.” 

“Are you talking about yourself or Jessica?” 

“I’m talking about everyone. You’re not perfect either.” 

Braden grunted. He knew he wasn’t. Far from it. But he wasn’t a killer. 

“Jessica isn’t a killer,” Wray said as though he read Braden’s mind. “And until you talk to her, you can’t make judgements on what she did. Find her and get answers first.” 

“And what if I don’t like the answers I get?” 

“Only you know what you’re able to handle, Braden. But don’t go to worst case off the bat.” 

Braden huffed. He didn’t like it, but Wray was right. First, he needed to find Jessica. 

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Filed Under: Curvy Vigilantes, F-Bomb Tagged With: Coming Soon, Framed, Friends to Lovers, My Books

His Curvy Genius, chapter one

May 9, 2022 by Mary

Spending the evening with my friends was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. It wasn’t fair. I should be able to enjoy time with them. And I would if Xavier Hogan wasn’t there, too. 

He made everything harder for me. Like my skin was on too tight. I was always tense, especially when I knew I’d have to face him. We’d only spoken a handful of times since he moved to town five weeks ago. No, I wasn’t counting how long he’d been in my town. My space. My life. Ugh. 

I couldn’t see my closest friend and roommate, Finley, or her three-month-old son without seeing Xavier anymore. She was only home one or two nights a week, spending the others with her boyfriend, Trent, and baby George at MacKellar Estate. Not that I blamed her. Their little family was new, and she adored them, and she and Trent were getting married. I got it, but I missed my friend. 

So, I sucked it up and went to their house whenever they called and invited me over. Like tonight. For Finley. 

I parked next to Finley’s car in the driveway and turned off the engine. I needed a minute before I faced them. Another minute. Just to make sure I was okay. 

It really wasn’t fair how great Xavier was doing. Between his adorable, sassy teenage daughter and the job Trent created for him, his life was easy. I didn’t know the full story about his ex, but I could do the math and didn’t want to know. 

McJenna was fifteen. Which meant Xavier got together with her mom a few months after we broke up. Maybe. Assuming he wasn’t cheating on me when we were together. How the hell did I know? I didn’t know the man at all, apparently. If I had, I wouldn’t have been blindsided by him. 

I blew out a frustrated breath and reminded myself I wasn’t there for him. I was there for Finley. And George. 

I finally forced myself out of my car and went to the door. I rang the bell and waited for someone to let me in. It was a beautiful day out, sunny and gorgeous and the kind of day that made MacKellar Cove perfect in the summer. A part of me wanted to stay outside all afternoon, but then the door opened and I was beckoned inside. 

“How are you?” Trent asked as he pulled me in for a hug. Trent MacKellar was a hugger. He was affectionate and friendly and seemed to think of me as family. It was weird after thinking of him as royalty most of my life, but why the hell not? 

“Good. How are you guys?” I asked. 

I never asked just about Trent. It felt weird. If Finley wasn’t there, I wouldn’t be either. They were a package deal in my mind because she’d still be living with me if he hadn’t pulled his head out of his ass and realized how lucky he was to have knocked Finley up out of all the women he could have accidentally gotten pregnant and been tied to forever. 

“Good. Really good. Fin’s starting to talk about a normal work schedule again.” 

“Really?” I asked, laughing. Finley was determined to go right back to work after George was born. She insisted she wasn’t going to be one of those women who altered their life completely when their baby came. Then George arrived. She hadn’t worked a full week since. I couldn’t blame her, but for her to talk about going back full time was definitely laughable. 

“That’s what she says.” 

“I’m sure her parents will be thrilled with that idea.” 

Trent nodded. “Yeah, I think they’ve been working on her. But Anna’s been amazing. Finley is really grateful she’s been willing to help so much.” 

“That’s what Fin told me, too. I haven’t gotten to know Anna as much, but I’m glad she was available.” Anna was a friend of a friend and started working for Finley before George arrived. She was a God-send and had definitely saved Finley’s romance only bookstore from shutting down. 

“Me, too.” We walked into the kitchen, which was wide open with the back doors thrown wide to let the fresh air in. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“Just a water would be great. Thanks.” 

“Bottled or tap?” 

“Either.” 

“We have that sparkling water Finley said you like. Want one of those?” 

“Sure. That would be great.” I smiled at Trent as he lit up. He was trying, and I appreciated that. We’d only just been getting to know each other when Xavier moved in, which put the brakes on Trent and I becoming better friends. I felt bad, but I couldn’t just put aside seventeen years of regret and act like nothing happened between Xavier and me. He broke me, and a part of me hadn’t recovered. 

“Hi, Ms. Karissa,” McJenna said from the staircase. 

I turned and smiled at the teenager. She was the only reason I tolerated Xavier besides Fin. McJenna was funny and smart and curious, and she made the times I came over much more tolerable. She liked computers and asked me a lot of questions about designing apps and expressed an interest in computers herself. 

My mom was a server at a restaurant, and my dad worked at the hardware store. Neither of them knew anything about computers, so when I wanted to learn more, I had to teach myself or find the answers online. If I’d had a mentor, I think my career would have been different. I knew that wasn’t who I’d ever be for Xavier’s daughter, but I also wanted to encourage her as much as possible. 

“Hi, J. How are you doing?” 

She shrugged and slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “It’s so boring here.” 

“It’s summer. It should be fun right now. Just wait until it snows and you can’t get off the property.” 

“Does that really happen?” she asked, her brown eyes wide. 

Trent opened and closed his mouth, then handed over my water. “It can, but it won’t happen much.” 

“I don’t think I can handle that. I need to move.” 

McJenna walked away, her feet dragging with each step. I snickered as I watched her go, then I caught Trent’s expression. 

“Why did you tell her that?” he asked, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” 

“That happened once in high school.” 

I chuckled. “It’s possible.” 

“She’s already been complaining because she doesn’t have friends. I know if she lived in town she’d be able to wander and meet people, but being all the way out here, she’s the weird Estate kid.” 

“Like you were?” 

Trent rolled his eyes. “You know how it is.” 

I nodded. I did. There weren’t a lot of Black families in MacKellar Cove. Trent’s family was wealthy, and people respected money, so growing up there wasn’t as hard as it would have been in other places, but we were still the minority. And for McJenna, being new to town and living on the Estate where other kids didn’t just wander by and ask her to hang out, it would be harder to meet new people and make friends. 

“Why is McJenna talking about needing to move before it snows?” Finley asked, walking inside with George in her arms. 

“I need my godson,” I told her, reaching out for him with grabby hands. 

Finley handed him over and raised an eyebrow at me. 

I carefully avoided her gaze. 

“Rissa told J summer is more fun and to enjoy it because when winter comes, we might get stuck out here.” 

“You did not!” Finley gasped. 

“I was joking. Sort of. She needs to go meet some kids. What about Anna’s son? Are they the same age?” 

Finley shook her head. “Joey’s a year older.” 

“Do we know anyone with a fifteen-year-old? How old is Goldie’s son?” Karissa asked. 

“I think Paul’s fourteen,” Finley said. 

“Does Valentina have a fifteen-year-old?” I asked. 

Finley’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure. I know her girls are older, teenagers, but I don’t know how old they are.” 

I made a mental note to stop into Cove Bakery sometime and talk to Valentina about her daughters. 

“I’m going to start cooking,” Trent said. “Are you okay with that?” 

Finley nodded and tilted her chin up for a kiss from him as he walked by. She smiled and watched him walk outside. He said something to McJenna we couldn’t hear, then went to the grill. 

“How are you?” Finley asked me. 

I smiled and focused on George. “I’m good. Busy. You know how I am.” 

“I do, which is why I asked.” 

I opened my mouth to tell her the truth when the reason for my hesitation cleared his throat from behind me. I clammed up, nuzzling against George’s neck and inhaling the baby smell that calmed me. 

“Hello, Karissa,” Xavier said. 

“Xavier.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, so I didn’t. I just waited until he walked outside, letting all of my attention stay on my godson. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Finley asked. 

I forced a smile neither of us believed and nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

* * *

Sitting across the table from the only man, besides my father and step-father, that I ever loved was downright painful. I never thought I’d see him again when I moved back home, when he said small town life wasn’t for him and refused to come with me. 

And now, he’s living a small town life. Complete with a kid of his own. Guess the joke was on me. 

But I wasn’t there for him, good or bad. I was there for my best friend to celebrate the first time her newborn baby slept through the night. I didn’t know anything about kids, but apparently it was a big deal. 

“I was so scared. I went in and checked three times overnight. I was sure something was wrong,” Finley said with a laugh. 

“Me, too,” Trent said. He looked between Finley and the baby with so much love in his eyes it actually ached inside me. 

I was happy for them. Really, truly, I was. I was there through all of their ups and downs, and I wanted Finley to have the kind of love she deserved. The kind that made everyone around them believe that love was real and it was out there for all of us. 

I would have believed in it if it weren’t for the walking heartbreak across the table. 

“The first night McJenna slept through the night, I did the same thing. It was a hard adjustment,” Xavier said. 

“Dad,” McJenna said, drawing out the word like only a teenager could. 

I forced a smile for the table. The one and only non-parent in the group. The only one who had no idea what it was like to wake up at night and wonder about the safety of another person. I’d always assumed I’d have kids one day, but one day turned into one year, and I was staring down thirty-nine on the other side of a preventative double mastectomy that left me feeling even less like a desirable woman than I ever felt before the surgery. 

I didn’t regret the choice I made, but seeing my friend coo and fuss over her tiny little bundle made me think about all the things I never did. 

Like find someone who wanted to live in a small town. Someone I could build a life and a family and a future with. Instead, I helped countless other people find love. 

Regrets were a funny thing. My mom talked about regrets when she was close to the end of her life. Her regrets were different, but maybe that was a few extra decades and the love of not one but two amazing men that changed her. As for me, I regretted all the things I promised myself I’d do one day but didn’t. 

“What are you working on these days, Karissa?” Trent asked. He was trying to be nice and bring me into the conversation, but I wasn’t really sure I wanted to be included. 

“I’ve been developing something new for a client. I was approached a few months ago about it,” I told him. 

“A few months? That must be a big project.” Trent understood a little about how app design worked, but not much from what I could tell. It wasn’t the most exciting topic for people who didn’t get all hot and bothered about computers. 

“It is, but the pay is really good and it’s given me a place to focus my energy lately.” 

“That’s always a good thing. Maybe I should have you design an app for the theater. Something to help with buying tickets or choosing seats or something.” 

I pressed my lips together and nodded. I hated working with clients who thought they wanted an app but didn’t really know what they wanted. It was easier to deal with the ones who knew exactly what they were looking for. Trent hired me to design an app for Finley’s store before George was born, but I knew exactly what Finley wanted and needed. A maybe I should was never helpful. 

“Can I be done?” McJenna asked. She pushed her plate away from the table and looked at her dad. Her soulful brown eyes tugged at me. I’d never be able to say no to her. Good thing I didn’t have to worry about that. 

“Put your plate in the dishwasher. We don’t need to create more work for Ms. Emily.” 

She nodded as she stood. Her phone was in her hand before she made it to the dishwasher in the next room, texting someone. 

“I don’t know how we’re going to deal with all that,” Trent said to Finley. “I don’t think I’m ready for a teenager.” 

Finley snorted. “I think that’s why they start out small. By the time we have a teenager, we’ll be able to handle it.” 

“I hope so. It does not look like a lot of fun to me.” 

“Especially when you drag your kid across the state to a place she doesn’t know and people she doesn’t know. I’m pretty sure she hates me,” Xavier said. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. 

“She agreed to it. She’ll be fine. I hated growing up here, but it’s a good place for families. And she can’t get into as much trouble here,” Trent said. 

His tone was light, but his words were loaded. I wanted to ask what kind of trouble she got into before they moved, but I didn’t have the right. 

“Maybe not, but she’ll try.” 

“Are you guys ready for dessert?” Finley asked loudly. “Karissa brought cake.” 

“I could definitely go for some cake,” Trent said. “Thanks. We’re glad you could be here tonight. I know we’re boring and only talk about baby stuff, but we want you to be comfortable coming over here whenever you want to.” 

“Thanks,” I told him. I would never feel comfortable going to his house, but I would try. For Finley, I would try. 

“I also really hope you two can get along again. I know you were friends in college, but—” 

“Friends?” I asked, turning to look at Xavier. “You told him we were friends?” 

He shrugged like that was the best descriptor for what we’d been to each other. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Trent asked. 

I huffed a laugh. “No. No, you didn’t say anything wrong. But I think us being ‘friends’ again is going to be a high bar. I mean, maybe I’m wrong, but a prefer to be friends with people I can trust. People I can count on. People who don’t spend three years planning a future with me only to decide, out of the blue, that all the times we talked about getting married and building a life together was just fiction.” 

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I told you I didn’t want to live in a small town. That there weren’t a lot of job opportunities there.” 

“Yeah, and then you said we could try it.” 

“I said maybe we could try it. Maybe. In the end, it wasn’t for me.” 

“But it is now?” 

Xavier glared across the table at me. “My life has changed a lot in the last seventeen years.” 

“Well, I hope you’re happy with all the changes in your life. Funny enough, my life hasn’t changed all that much. But this is my small town. This is where I live. This is my home. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to make me feel like I don’t belong here.” 

“I never—” 

I stood and turned away from him. “I apologize for running out, Trent, but I seem to have lost my appetite. Fin, I’ll catch ya!” 

“Rissa,” Finley tried. 

“Nope. I’m good. Love you.” 

“Love you,” she said. 

I let myself out and drove home alone to my condo on the other side of the cove. A year ago, I never would have thought I’d be living alone or living in the same town as Xavier Hogan. Life definitely didn’t go the way we planned. Ever. 

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Fury, chapter one

February 24, 2022 by Mary

Stacey Allen was not at a funeral so she could avoid her husband. 

She nudged her sunglasses up her nose and ground her teeth together. Her focus never strayed from the wooden box as it disappeared around the edge of the dirt. Not many people remained. It wasn’t often that people stayed to see a casket lowered into the ground. Even less common when the woman inside the casket was a ghost for the last five months. 

Stacey wasn’t there because they were friends. She was there out of obligation. Holly was a client of Stacey’s. They talked every day for a month, then weekly for another three months. Stacey recommended Holly go back to her life. She thought the woman was healthy. She thought she was safe. 

Stacey was dead wrong. And now Holly was dead.

Stacey blamed herself for Holly’s death. She wasn’t the one who dragged Holly from her car and stabbed her, but Stacey was the one who told Holly she would be okay. 

“We’re heading out,” Captain Patrick said quietly. 

Stacey nodded. “Thank you. I won’t be long.” 

Captain Patrick nodded and offered her a sympathetic smile. Stacey’s boss and friend, Frannie, hugged Stacey, then looped her arm through the captain’s. They walked together, past the rows of stones on the hill. 

Stacey tried to hold back her tears, but she was losing the battle. She was angry. Not just at herself for thinking Holly would be safe when she left the shelter and tried to live her life again, and not just at Holly’s husband who was the one and only suspect as far as Stacey was concerned, even though he hadn’t been charged. No, Stacey was mad at her own husband. 

Wray Allen. The man Stacey fell in love with a lifetime ago. The man she planned to spend her life with. He was a good man, at least, she thought he was. But for the last six months, Stacey couldn’t see that version of her husband. The only one she saw was the one who gambled away almost everything they had and nearly bankrupted them. The man who put his problems, his addiction, above the safety of his wife and sons. 

One woman was dead because of the sins of her husband. Stacey told her patients they deserved better, but she never took the advice herself. She’d spent years counseling abuse victims that it wasn’t their fault and that they didn’t need the men who hurt them the way the men convinced them they did. Stacey empowered women to stand on their own and make a new life for themselves. 

Instead of listening to her own words, Stacey was letting her past dictate her present. Her parents’ divorce ruined her childhood. She hated them for not trying to save their marriage. Stacey wouldn’t do the same thing to her sons. She needed to try. But trying wasn’t getting them anywhere. Something had to change, and she knew what it was. 

Stacey had been sitting on the sidelines of her own life, afraid to make the leap and tell her husband it was over. Maybe it was time. 

“We should get home,” a man’s voice said from not far away. 

Stacey looked up and her stomach turned. She’d never known hate so strong as she felt in that moment. It tore her heart out and flipped her insides and made her want to do something she knew she couldn’t do. It made her want revenge. 

Oscar Hyatt stared at Stacey, a triumphant look of pleasure curling his lips up. His arm was draped over the shoulders of his daughter, Vera, as Vera stared at the hole in the ground where her mother’s body would stay. 

Stacey wanted to rip Vera from her father’s arms. She was a teenager, barely old enough to know her own mind, and she was under the care of a monster. A man who not only abused Holly, but who Stacey was completely convinced also killed her. 

Except he had an alibi and was not a suspect. 

“I just want to stay a little longer,” Vera said. She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” 

Stacey knew Vera. They’d spoken regularly when Vera lived in Shelter from the Storm with her mother. Stacey counseled both of them to help them through the situation they were in. Vera hadn’t been a victim of her father’s, but she knew what he did to her mother. But Oscar doted on Vera. Manipulated her to love him. 

Vera leaned against her father’s side, and Oscar hugged her tighter, his hand rubbing her shoulder for comfort. The entire time, he smirked at Stacey. He knew exactly who she was, and she knew he was guilty, but they both knew there was nothing Stacey could do about it. 

“Vera,” Stacey said softly, ignoring the cancer around the girl. 

“Stacey!” Vera rushed over to her, throwing her arms around Stacey’s neck and burrowing in. She sobbed against Stacey’s shoulder. “Why did this happen?” 

Stacey glared at Oscar. “I wish I could tell you that, honey. Your mom was a beautiful person, inside and out, and some ugly, evil person stole her from all of us.” 

Oscar flinched ever so slightly when Stacey called him ugly and evil. He quickly schooled his expression and sneered. It wasn’t a confession, but it was enough for Stacey to know for sure he was guilty. Too bad she couldn’t go to the cops with a guilty look. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.” 

“I know, sweetheart. Where are you staying?” 

“With my dad. He didn’t do this, Stacey. It wasn’t him. And he would never hurt me.” 

Stacey brushed Vera’s blonde hair back from her face and smiled at the trustworthy child. Vera was fourteen. Barely old enough to know her own mind, let alone understand how disgusting some of the world was. Holly was a miracle-worker to have kept her daughter so hidden from the horrors of their home, not to mention the rest of the evils of the world. Especially when that evil lived under the same roof. 

“You know you can always come see me. And you can always call me. I’m always going to be here for you.” 

Vera nodded. “I know. Thanks, Stacey.” 

“Vera, we need to go,” Oscar demanded. 

Vera looked over at him and saw the scowl on his face. She ducked her head, then said a quick goodbye to Stacey before rushing back to her father’s side. 

Oscar smirked at Stacey, then guided Vera to the waiting car. 

Stacey stared after them, watching the way he touched his daughter. He wasn’t inappropriate, which both relieved and bothered Stacey. If he grabbed Vera’s arm or did anything that made it look like he hurt the girl, Stacey would have the power to remove Vera from his care. But Oscar did nothing. 

Stacey waited until they got in the car and drove away. She turned back to the grave and stared at the simple box that held Holly. Stacey closed her eyes and promised Holly that she would find proof that Oscar killed her and get Vera away from him. 

She just hoped she could keep the promise. 

* * *

Wray Allen tackled his older son, Joey, and tickled him until he squealed. Evan, his baby, jumped on Wray and dug his chubby fingers into Wray’s side, laughing the whole time like he was the one being tickled. 

Wray pretended Evan’s uncoordinated fingers were the funniest things in the world and laughed loudly. Joey jumped in and joined his little brother, both of them jabbing their fingers into the soft tissue on Wray’s neck and sides. It wouldn’t be long before those little fingers would hurt more than tickle, but Wray wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to enjoy the time he had with his sons and hope he could fix things with his wife so he didn’t miss out on more than he already had. 

A car door slammed outside, and both boys jumped up. 

“Mommy’s home!” Joey shouted as he ran for the door. 

“Wait,” Wray commanded his six year old in the dad voice he didn’t break out often. Joey had started opening the door when he felt like it and answering the door without a parent. It didn’t matter how many times they told him to wait, he never did. It was bad enough that Wray installed a video doorbell so they would always know if Joey left the house. 

Joey stopped and gave Wray an annoyed look that nearly made him laugh. He held it together and cocked an eyebrow at his oldest. 

“You know you’re not supposed to open the door without a parent.” 

“But it’s Mommy. She’s a parent.” 

Wray tried to figure out how to talk around that logic and was grateful when Stacey let herself in the house before he had to come up with something. 

Evan threw himself at Stacey, wrapping his arms around her legs so she couldn’t get inside far enough to close the door. “Hi, Evs. Did you have fun with Daddy?” 

“We tickled,” Evan said in his three year old blabber. He’d grown a lot in the last six months. He was still a baby, but going from two to three and starting preschool were big changes. So big that Wray dreaded how much more he’d miss. His guess was the way his wife avoided his gaze, his time on the couch was coming to an end. 

Wray fell in love with Stacey the night they met. He was playing cards at a game a friend organized in college. Stacey walked in and he felt an odd buzz of energy, like a piece of his he hadn’t known was missing was finally back. Her pull was magnetic, and Wray couldn’t have resisted it if he tried. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to know her, and as the night wore on and she indulged his claim that she was his good luck charm, Wray knew he’d never be able to walk away from her. 

After the game, Wray talked her into breakfast at a local diner, paid for with his winnings, then convinced her to let him take her to dinner that night. From then on, they were together. 

In the decade since, Wray had learned everything about his wife. Normally it was a blessing to know someone so well, but when the words she held back were bad, it was a curse. A curse to know his time at home was short-lived. 

“Did you guys eat a snack?” Stacey asked the boys when she finally got Evan off her leg and closed the door. 

“Yep. Daddy made us cheese and crackers,” Joey said. 

“Okay, good. Give me a few minutes to change and then we can talk about dinner,” Stacey said. She made a move toward the stairs. Her black dress, black boots, and black purse would have looked a little dramatic at the party they were going to, but the mention of dinner told Wray she forgot. 

“Emily will be here at five. Do you want to wait to figure out dinner until she gets here?” Wray asked. It was a gentle reminder that they wouldn’t be home to eat. A way for him to tell her they had plans without making her feel bad for forgetting. At least, he hoped. 

Stacey hung her head. Her shoulders slumped. She looked like she might collapse right there on the stairs. “Taylor’s party. I forgot.” 

Wray didn’t reply. There was nothing he could say that would not piss her off, so staying silent felt like the right move. 

“Let me change into something less formal. Yeah, we’ll talk to Emily about dinner.” 

Wray nodded even though Stacey wasn’t looking at him. Evan made a move to follow Stacey up the stairs, but Wray scooped him up and rolled him up onto his shoulders, tickling his exposed belly and making Evan squeal with laughter. 

Stacey trudged up the stairs without looking back. 

Wray set Evan on the floor and smiled at the wide grin on his son’s face. Both boys were blissfully unaware of the tension between Stacey and Wray. One of the good things about them being so young when their parents’ marriage was faltering. Wray hated it, but he was the one to blame. If it hadn’t been for him getting sucked into an illegal gambling ring and nearly losing everything, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. 

While Stacey was changing, Wray and the boys cleaned up the living room. Joey insisted on helping pull out the takeout menus to show Emily when she arrived. He told Wray Emily really liked pizza and made sure that menu was on the top. 

Wray smiled to himself. His son had his first crush on his babysitter. Stacey would think it was adorable. 

The doorbell rang before Stacey came downstairs. Wray let Emily in and thanked her for coming. Emily lived a few houses down from them and was a regular babysitter for the boys. She was fun and kind, but also responsible and considerate. She was always their first choice for babysitters. 

Stacey hurried downstairs while Wray was talking to Emily. Stacey’s eyes were red and puffy. She was still avoiding Wray’s gaze. Tension coiled tighter and tighter inside him. He was running out of time. 

Wray hurried upstairs and changed, then said goodbye to the boys and Emily and followed Stacey outside to his truck. 

Their drive to Taylor’s was quiet. Wray tried to think of what to say to her, but nothing ever felt right. 

They turned onto Taylor’s street, and Stacey finally said, “We need to talk.” 

“Now? When we’re about to pull into the driveway?” 

She looked through the windshield like she hadn’t realized where they were and shook her head. “No. Not now. Soon.” 

“Okay,” Wray said. His time in front of the firing squad would be here soon. Dammit. 

* * *

Stacey was happy to be home. Not that she didn’t love Taylor, but Taylor was convinced she could save Stacey and Wray’s marriage. Stacey appreciated her friend’s positivity, but Stacey wasn’t so sure. The biggest sticking point for her was her sons, which was why she wanted to talk to Wray about making a change to their situation. She didn’t know what, but him sleeping on the couch wasn’t working. They didn’t talk. They didn’t touch. They didn’t do anything. They were strangers under the same roof pretending to be married and in love for the rest of the world. 

Stacey knew living a lie was not the way to go through life. 

She was so sure after Holly’s funeral that ending things was the only option left, but every time she saw her husband, the idea wasn’t so solid. She couldn’t imagine her life without him, even if a life with him wasn’t much of a life. 

Wray parked the truck in the driveway and got out without a word. He hadn’t tried talking to her lately. At first, he apologized at least once a day, but it had been months since he said he was sorry and weeks since he initiated a conversation about anything. 

Wray unlocked the front door and stepped back to let Stacey go through first. Even if he wasn’t speaking to her, he was still the man she loved. That man was buried deep inside, but little things like that gave Stacey a glimmer of hope that if she could get past the hurt, maybe they could find their way back to each other. 

Stacey unzipped her boots and set them on the rack, then hung her purse on the hook by the door. The house was quiet, telling her the boys were asleep. The TV flickered in the living room where Emily usually settled after the boys fell asleep. 

Stacey walked into the living room and stopped. Instead of stretched out on the couch like normal, Emily was curled up in the lounge chair, her neck at an awkward angle. She didn’t look comfortable at all. 

“Why is she in the chair?” Wray asked. 

Stacey shook her head and walked over to Emily. She was close to Vera’s age, but the differences between the two girls’ situations was shocking. Stacey wished Vera could have the stable life Emily had. 

Stacey put her hand on Emily’s shoulder and gently shook her, calling her name. “Emily. We’re home. Wake up.” 

Emily stretched and blinked her eyes open. “Hey.” She rolled her neck and winced, rubbing the kink. 

“Why aren’t you on the couch? That would have been more comfortable.” 

Emily shrugged. “Joey wouldn’t let me sit there.” 

“What? Why not?” 

Emily nibbled her lip. Her gaze flickered between Stacey and Wray, then settled on her hands. “He said it was his daddy’s bed and I wasn’t allowed to sleep there or sit there.” 

“He… What?” Stacey gasped. She thought they were hiding Wray sleeping on the couch from the boys. She thought they had no idea. 

“Why don’t I walk you home?” Wray suggested to the silent room. It was their normal. Stacey checked on the boys and Wray walked Emily home and paid her. But nothing felt normal with that bombshell. 

“Um, yeah. Thanks,” Emily said. She uncurled herself from the chair and gave Stacey a red-cheeked smile, then ducked her head and grabbed her shoes. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Wray said, although Stacey thought it was more for Emily’s benefit than hers. 

“Okay.” 

The door closed behind them, and Stacey sank to the chair. Joey knew. And if Joey knew, then fixing things before the kids found out anything wasn’t an option. He already knew. 

After a minute, Stacey forced herself to get up. She didn’t want to be sitting there when Wray got home. She wanted to be upstairs, in her room, hidden from her husband. 

She checked in on the boys and kissed both their cheeks. She hurried to her room and changed into pajamas. She flushed the toilet just as the camera at the front door alerted her to Wray’s return. Stacey rushed to bed and jumped under the covers, turning away from the door and pretending to be asleep. 

Wray came in a few minutes later. He called her name quietly, but she didn’t move. He sighed heavily, then opened and closed a drawer before closing himself in the bathroom. Stacey didn’t move until after he was out of the bathroom and his soft footsteps padded down the stairs. 

She’d decide what to do tomorrow. 

Available March 11

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Filed Under: Curvy Vigilantes, F-Bomb Tagged With: Curvy Vigilantes, F-BOMB, Marriage in trouble, My Books

His Curvy Craving, chapter one

December 18, 2021 by Mary

I twirled a straw in my drink and tried to pretend everything was normal. Why wouldn’t it be? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had sex in over a year and was sitting there waiting for a stranger to show up so I could sleep with him. 

Okay, fine, that’s exactly what it was like. 

It would be fine. He wasn’t local, his screen name declared it, and I would never see him again. That was why I agreed to meet him. That and because I was desperate to end my solo-streak. 

Every muscle in my body was tense and getting more tense with each second that passed. What if he didn’t show up? What if he showed up and didn’t say anything? What if he showed up and did say something? 

I was a mess. 

I blew out a breath and took another sip of my drink. I hadn’t been a virgin in seventeen years, but there was something about skipping a year that made me feel like one all over again. 

“Are you MustLoveBooks?” a deep, smooth voice asked. 

I drew a shaky breath and lifted my gaze to meet his. Dear God, the man was stunning. Dark brown eyes and skin, shaved head, and a white tee stretched across all those muscles. 

My mouth watered, actually watered, at the man. Holy hell, I’d never seen a man as attractive as him. 

He chuckled, the sound sending a thread of pleasure down my spine and between my thighs. “Is that a yes?” 

I shook my head, and his brows drew together. 

“No?” 

“No. Yes. I mean, yes, I’m MustLoveBooks. You’re NotALocal?” 

The edge of his mouth lifted in a smile, and he nodded. “I am. I don’t live here.” 

“You should think about it. You’re beautiful. I mean, it’s beautiful. Here. MacKellar Cove. I need to stop talking.” 

He chuckled again. “It’s okay. If I was going to judge the town solely on the beauty of the woman I’m speaking to, I’d say it’s beautiful, too.” 

My cheeks warmed at the compliment, and my thighs tingled at the sparkle in his eyes. He knew how hot he was, but he wasn’t making me feel like I owed him anything because of it, or like he was doing me a favor. There was no doubt he could leave with any of the women, or men, in O’Kelley’s if he wanted to, but he was talking to me. Book nerd, half-broke, local mommy porn distributor, Finley Jameson. 

But he didn’t know any of those things. He just knew I liked to read and that I was sitting at the bar at O’Kelley’s wearing a blue dress and waiting for him. 

“Hey, man,” Hudson Grant, owner of O’Kelley’s and a friend of mine, said to my impulse fling. “Can I get you a drink?” 

NotALocal nodded at Hudson. “Just a beer.” 

Hudson glanced at me, then back to my date. He didn’t say anything else, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want the guy to be able to find me afterward, even though I would not be disappointed if he did. I wasn’t in the right place for a relationship. Even with a man who looked like my future husband. 

In my dreams. 

“Is this your favorite spot?” NotALocal asked me. 

I nodded and spun my straw. My drink was almost gone, and I was not ordering a second. It was my rule when I met with strangers. “I spend a lot of time here. I work close by.” 

“Nice. I grew up in a small town, but I live in the city now.” 

“I don’t think I could live in a city. Not full time. It’s nice to visit, but I like that I can sit here and know at least some of the people here. It gives me a sense of security.” 

“Does that mean you want to stay here?” he asked. 

“No!” I took a breath and slowed my racing heart. “I mean, I’m not opposed to going somewhere else, if you want.” 

He met my gaze with his dark one and leaned closer. “Definitely.” 

I couldn’t stop my smile as he tossed some cash on the bar and stood. Our drinks weren’t finished, but it was definitely time to go. 

We walked out into the cool evening through the back of the bar. The path that snaked from one end of the Cove to the other was wide and mostly empty. As soon as the door to O’Kelley’s closed behind us, he grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. 

The scent of the river mixed with the spicy scent of whatever cologne he wore. His eyes were wide and searching, his palm flat against the side of my face. He was asking a question, needing an answer. I respected the hell out of him for it and nodded. 

In our next breath, his lips were on mine. My back hit the brick wall and his body slammed into my front. His beard was softer than I expected, the neatly trimmed hair gentle against my skin. Unlike his teeth as he nipped at me. 

I opened for him with a growl. He snickered against my lips and smiled as he cupped my ass and pressed himself against me. He was hard, thick and heavy against my soft belly. I moaned unconsciously, needing him. It had been too long since sex was a partners game for me, and I was ready to break that streak. 

“Do you live far?” he asked against my neck. His tongue was warm on my cooling skin. 

I nodded, not thinking about what I was saying. “I have keys for the store right here. We can go there.” 

He pulled back long enough to meet my gaze, then nodded sharply and took my hand. He tugged me toward my shop, searching the wall for the door he’d never had a need for before tonight. 

I hesitated, not physically but emotionally. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sleep with a complete stranger, but I was sick of waiting for my life to start. I’d spent so many years building my business. I convinced myself I would have time for a relationship and kids and all those things I wanted after the business was secure, but seeing my brother and my best friend fall in love, get married, and try to start a family made me realize I had to live my life now if I was going to actually enjoy it. 

Which was exactly why I unlocked the door to my store with his hands firmly cupping my breasts. His erection throbbed against me from behind. I was done waiting. It was one night with a man I’d never see again, but I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it. 

“Let me see you,” he growled against my ear. 

I reached for the light in the back. Customers couldn’t see us around all the shelves, and even if they saw a light on, it wasn’t likely anyone would knock. The sign on the front door said my store was closed, and the back door was solid and only used by employees. 

He turned me in his arms and sealed his lips over mine the instant I was facing him once again. He lifted my leg, the thought of marking him as my territory nearly making me chuckle. I didn’t even know his name. He was the furthest thing from mine as a guy could be. But he was exactly what I wanted in that moment. What I needed. 

His fingers made quick work of my skirt, lifting it up to expose my cotton panties. If there was ever proof that this whole thing was not premeditated, it was the presence of my least attractive underwear. He rubbed his finger along the edge of them, silently asking for permission to do exactly what we both knew we were there for. Guess my granny panties didn’t put him off. 

I nudged my hips toward him, hoping he took the hint and made his way inside. I groaned when he did, his palm flat against my not-so-flat belly. When his fingertips brushed over my clit, I groaned again and bucked against his hand. 

He slid a thick finger into me and tore his lips away to swear. “Jesus, you’re wet. And so damn tight.” 

“It’s been a while,” I admitted. 

“I’ll make sure you’re ready,” he said, his voice raspy with desire. 

Before I could respond, he pressed a second finger into me. I cried out at the painful pleasure of it and spread my thighs wider to accommodate him. He felt good. So damn good. Sex with a stranger wasn’t supposed to be so good. It should be awkward and fumbling, but he was… It was like he knew me. Like he didn’t have to think about what I would like, he just knew. 

I pulled him back down for a kiss, needing the connection before I spouted something dumb. I wasn’t always known for keeping my mouth shut, but this man made me feel even less in control of my faculties than usual. 

He nipped at my lips and teased me with his short beard. The gentle scrape of it on my sensitive cheek made my thighs tremble. If this wasn’t just a one-night stand, maybe I could find out just how good that beard would feel on my thighs. Maybe… 

Nope. No sense thinking about any of that. No sense thinking at all when he pressed the heel of his hand against my clit and curled his fingers inside me and sent me flying. 

I cried out and clutched his shoulders. My head fell back, breaking our kiss. Heat flashed over my entire body. I’d never come that fast in my life. Not even alone. But this man, this stranger, had me up and over the edge without even taking off my panties. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was reverent, hushed in the quiet building. “Again.” 

It wasn’t a request. Oh, no. Not from him. It was a demand that he followed up with the press of his thumb to my clit and a quick rub exactly how I needed it. My insides thumped with the rhythm he set on the outside. I held onto him, unable to do anything besides ride the wave he pushed me onto and pray I didn’t crash on the way down. 

“Oh, God,” I moaned. “So good.” 

My core locked around his fingers, holding them in. He pumped his hand, still pressing all the right buttons inside and out. It was the best sex of my life, and we hadn’t even gotten to the sex part. 

He stroked my inner thighs as my body came down from the high and released the hold on his fingers. His hand was buried beneath my skirt to his forearm, the muscles rippling as he kept stroking my skin like he couldn’t get enough either. 

“I’m definitely ready now,” I murmured. 

I looked up at him, his eyes almost black with desire. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His gaze flickered to my lips, then back to mine. 

“I need a minute, or I’ll be done before we really get started.” 

I grinned. It wasn’t often I could make a man lose control. Hell, it had been a while since I’d made a man do anything. But making a man like him, a man who was not only beautiful but confident and generous with his hands, lose control was more than a little intoxicating. 

“Is there a couch or something in here?” he asked. 

I nodded. “Over there. We won’t be seen. It’s blocked by shelves.” 

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed me, bringing his hand out of my skirt. He put both on my hips and guided me toward where I indicated. When we got to the small sitting area, he sat on the largest couch and brought me down on top of him. 

His erection was thick and firm between my thighs. I ached to rock against it, but it was definitely his turn. 

He shifted beneath me and held my hips firm, rubbing himself against my hot center. He growled and captured my lips, plunging his tongue inside with no finesse but lots of pleasure. 

“Need you,” he whispered, pushing me off him. “Take off your panties.” 

I reached under my skirt to do as he demanded and watched him unbutton and unzip his jeans. He shoved them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. He dug into his pocket for a condom and rolled it on, tossing the wrapper to the side. Then he reached for me. 

The darkness of the room didn’t give me a good enough look at his cock, but the moment I sank onto his lap, I knew there was no way in hell he was going in without a little effort. Okay, a lot of effort. He already put in the effort, and he was still too big for me. 

He held my hips and let me guide him inside. He gritted his teeth and held back, every muscle of his body tense. I lifted tiny bits, then spread my thighs and eased down more with each stroke. God bless him, he didn’t push for me to go faster or thrust up into me. It was like being a virgin again, except more painful because I wanted it so badly. I wanted him. I knew exactly what I was missing out on, and waiting for it was not easy. 

His fingers tightened on my hips. My hands were on his shoulders, using him for leverage. Then all of a sudden, he was inside. We both groaned loudly, our bodies meeting as mine adjusted to his side and he… well, I didn’t know what he was doing. 

“God damn, you feel good. So fucking good.” 

“You, too,” I pushed out. I didn’t think I’d ever had anything so deep inside me before. He stretched my body and filled me in a way no one ever had. Not that I’d slept with a ton of guys, but none came close to him. He twitched deep inside me, and I moaned greedily, almost coming just from the feel of him. 

“I guess I’m not the only one who’s on the edge,” he said with a snicker. 

“Definitely not. I don’t usually come during sex, but I don’t usually sleep with guys who are—” I cut myself off and rolled my lips in. 

“Who are what?” he asked. I could feel his smile as much as I could hear it. I wanted to see it, but the darkness around us hid most of his face from my view. 

“So big, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Is that what you were going to say?” 

“Yes,” I breathed. He twitched again. 

“Then that’s what I wanted to hear.” His hand slid up my sides, his thumbs rubbing the underside of my breasts, then went back to my hips. “Hold on, beautiful.” 

He shifted beneath me and thrust back in, stealing my breath and sanity and replacing both with a soul deep desire for this man to own me. To claim me. To have me as his own. 

I gripped his shoulders as best as I could and accepted that I was just along for the ride. And what a ride it was. Holy hell, the man knew how to work. He thrust and bucked and fucked until I couldn’t stop the orgasm his cock wrenched out of me. My toes went numb. My hands ached. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I flopped on him, grateful I was still dressed and all my flabby parts weren’t flapping in the breeze. 

And then I let go. 

My body squeezed him so hard he let out a string of curse words. He fucked me harder, his thrusts almost punishing as he chased me toward orgasm. 

When he came, he slammed my body down hard onto his cock and roared. He twitched and throbbed inside of me, almost setting off another orgasm for me. He held me close against his body, both of us panting and barely hanging on. 

I didn’t ever want to move. I wanted to stay right there and do that again and again. Do him again and again. I wanted to kiss him and taste him and touch his entire body. Hell, I wanted to see his body. 

But it wasn’t meant to be that way. And it wasn’t what I really wanted anyway. Not if I was truly honest with myself. He was a way to blow off steam. A cannonball back into dating after a long time away. A big, beautiful, orgasm-producing cannonball. 

His hands slid up my spine and back down, and I knew it was time to go. I carefully lifted myself off of him, trying desperately not to groan at the feel of him sliding out of my body for the last time. He held the condom while I got up, then immediately stood. 

“Bathroom?” 

“In the hallway where we came in,” I told him. 

He nodded, holding his jeans up with one hand while keeping the other on the condom. 

I grabbed my panties from under the coffee table and slid them back on. I smoothed my dress down, then checked for any wet spots on the couch. All good. 

The bathroom door opened, and I moved toward the back of the store. He was waiting for me, his eyes devouring me as I moved closer to him. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

I smiled. “The thanks is very mutual.” 

He grinned back. “I know we said don’t know each other, but I come here every so often. Would it be okay if I reached out again?” 

“Seriously?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah. In case you didn’t notice, that was really damn good.” 

I smirked. “I noticed.” 

“Good, so…?” 

I nodded. “Yes, I’d really like it if you reached out again.” 

“Good.” He moved toward the door and waited for me to turn off the lights. We stepped outside together, then he kissed me hard and fast and walked off into the night. 

I watched him until he turned the corner and headed toward the square, then I turned around and walked home. With a memory that would definitely hold me until my stranger returned. 

Available January 11

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Filed Under: Book Boyfriends Wanted Tagged With: Accidental Pregnancy, Book Boyfriends, My Books

Finally, chapter one

November 4, 2021 by Mary

Welcome to Vermont. Those three simple words shouldn’t have been enough to make every cell in Liam Johnson’s body tense up, but they were. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and everything in him screamed to turn around. But that wasn’t an option. Not when a woman’s life was on the line. 

His childhood wasn’t horrible, but he promised himself years ago that he’d never return to the minuscule town he called home for eighteen years. A town that was rundown and worn out long before he was born and had no chance of being more than a passthrough on the way to Canada. 

But that was exactly where Liam was headed. Back to East Charlottesville. Back to his past. Back to all the memories of why he wanted to get out of there in the first place. 

Liam, English to his friends and teammates, took the next turn into the parking lot of the makeshift welcome center. It was almost three o’clock, and even though he wasn’t far from his destination, he needed to stretch his legs. 

He parked far from the entrance to the old home that was used as a welcome center and walked out onto the grass. He looked back at the cars drifting by on the small road that wound through Lake Champlain between New York and Vermont. The lake was always a fantasy vacation spot. The kind of place his handful of classmates with money would go. English had never been there, and driving through on his way into Vermont was not as appealing as he’d hoped it would be. Nothing about being back in Vermont was appealing. 

English kept walking until he could almost pretend the occasional traffic was the soothing hum of a computer instead of the irritating buzz of vehicles. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He held it, then let it out slowly, willing the tension to leave his body. Each breath soothed the rattled parts inside him. Until his phone buzzed. 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you almost there?” Dex. English’s roommate. Soon to be former roommate once he officially moved in with his girlfriend. And English’s friend. 

“About an hour to go. Maybe a little less.” 

“You doing okay?” 

English nodded to himself, hoping the action helped his words to be more believable. “I’m good.” 

“I should have gone with you.” 

“I’m a big boy,” English said. He was the baby of the group, the one the rest of them treated like a kid brother half the time. He was smart and capable, but he was also young and they acted like he couldn’t be on his own. 

“That’s not why and you know it.” 

The sympathy in Dex’s voice said it all. He knew English didn’t want to go home. Each of the men on their team had their demons, and because of that, they all understood each other’s. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“And you’ll call if you’re not.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yeah.” 

“You don’t owe anyone anything,” Dex said, his voice softer, like he was speaking to a child instead of a grown ass thirty-three year old man. 

“It’s a job. That’s all. I’ll be there for a few days and head home. They can’t get into my head in a week.” 

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” 

English sighed. It wasn’t, but he wanted to believe it. His parents were good people, not monsters, but they never supported his choices and weren’t shy about letting him know that. His dad wanted him to go to work at the factory in town when he finished high school. Hell, he wanted him to work there before he finished high school. That was the way of life in East Charlottesville. Finish high school, get a job at the factory, marry a local, have kids, rinse and repeat. 

English never wanted that life. He knew it for as long as he could remember. But he also knew he couldn’t tell his parents until he had another plan in place. Not that it mattered. They were still angry. 

“Have you learned anything new about this woman?” English asked. He needed a subject change. And to get his game face on. 

“Nothing. We’ve gone through the basics you found, but there hasn’t been much of anything on her. She worked at a church, but I think you know that. She was also a waitress. Lived alone, no family. The friend who reported her missing said it’s not like her to go so long without contact. Her bosses said they’ve had others do this and they usually send in an address to mail their last check. Local PD doesn’t seem concerned. No forced entry at her place, nothing out of place. Her car is gone, so the assumption is she left town and didn’t want to tell anyone.” 

“Anything on the friend?” 

“Nah. She looks clean. No flags.” 

“Is she a local?” 

“Yeah, her name is—” 

English waited. His team just got a new case that was taking all of them. He should be there to help, but instead, he was looking into the missing person case. “Dex?” 

“Sorry, man. Meeting. We’ll talk later.” 

“Yeah.” English stared at his phone as it went dark. He was alone. His team was swamped, and English was on his own to find Jeanine Waterford. And face his past. 

It wouldn’t have made sense to bring anyone else. Going in alone under the cover of his parents’ party was easy. He knew the town, and he knew anyone else would draw attention. If he was going to get any answers, he needed to draw as little attention to himself as possible. 

It was a good thing English was a pro at being invisible. 

* * *

The closer English got to his hometown, the more he wanted to turn the SUV around and go home. He pulled over to the side of the road a few times just so he could close his eyes and breathe, but he kept going. There was a missing woman, and English didn’t turn his back on people in need. 

He finally reached the edge of town. The stop sign in the middle of nowhere was out of place, but so was everything else there. Going straight would send him into the heart of East Charlottesville. A right would take him to his parents’ house. A left would send him past the high school and the old factory. None of them were appealing. 

If he was only there for the job, English knew the left would make the most sense. Get a feel for the area and see the entire town. He flipped his blinker and made the turn. He wasn’t the same kid he was when he left more than fifteen years ago. He was successful and strong. It was likely he wouldn’t be recognized by anyone because he’d changed so much. And— 

“Fuck me,” English mumbled. 

The old factory sat to his left, a gleaming beacon on the hill. The sign at the road proclaimed it was now West Textiles. The colorful metal and stone declaration said the new owners took tremendous pride in the factory, and the shiny exterior said that extended to the facility itself. 

English took a left, curiosity getting the better of him. He had a vague recollection of his parents mentioning the factory was bought years ago, but he put it out of his head, assuming it didn’t mean much. The look of the place said that assumption was wrong. 

English drove down the long driveway to the parking lot, passing signs celebrating ten years in business. At four-thirty on a Friday, there were a lot of people leaving. All of them smiling. 

He got a few curious looks, and some narrowed gazes, as he drove through the lot, pretending to be looking for a spot. His brand new Lincoln SUV stood out against the trucks and cars and SUVs that, in many cases, were older than him. 

English swung back out of the lot and onto the main road. The factory was the biggest employer in town, but it had never been well maintained. The pay was not great, and the working conditions weren’t any better. But the new look of the place made English wonder if the rest of the town had gotten the same facelift. If the owners had enough money to clean, paint, and spit-shine the factory, it meant more money would be going into the town to do the same to the old buildings there. 

Before the thought could fully form, English came up on the high school. The old brick building had green stains from years of skipped pressure washings. The parking lot boasted potholes and cracks that could swallow a small child. Lines were nonexistent on both the parking lot and the athletic fields just past the small school. Kids ran around on the football field and jogged the worn path that served as a track. Just like he remembered. 

The factory and the school sitting so close together and looking so different was jarring. Nothing in East Charlottesville was ever fancy like the factory. Nothing. But that wealth clearly didn’t translate to the rest of the town. 

English kept driving, down the center of town on C Drive. The old movie theater still stood, with a marquee sign telling him the movie playing was six months old. The diner on the corner hadn’t changed. The small shops were open, but the faded and cracked paint on the storefront picture windows told English nothing had been taken care of in East Charlottesville. 

He reached the end of C Drive and made his left to head toward his parents’ house. He was almost there when he thought about Jeanine Waterford. She worked at the diner, but she also worked at the church. English took a quick left and headed toward the border where the church sat. 

Holy Trinity Christian Church was one of the oldest churches in the country. It sat on the border of Vermont and Quebec and offered access to both the US and Canada without documentation. A line down the center told visitors where the border was, letting people wander in and out of each country at will. It was only when someone left that they had to show the ticket they received on entry to make sure they went back to the country they entered from. 

English parked in the lot and went into the church. A small chapel was holding an afternoon service, but the gift shop and museum were open. Jeanine Waterford worked in the gift shop. 

Trinkets sat on shelves next to religious souvenirs. The place was a popular tourist attraction, as much as anything in East Charlottesville could be. The bored-looking woman behind the register chewed gum and watched her phone while English wandered aimlessly. He picked up a postcard with the church on it and a visor clip for his SUV and carried them to the register. 

“Did you find everything you needed?” the cashier asked, barely looking away from her phone as she reached for his items. 

“I did. I was wondering if Jeanine is working today?” 

The woman shook her head, still ignoring him. “Nope. Hasn’t been here in a week or so. She quit.” 

“Really? She told you that?” 

“No, but that’s what happens. People work here for a few years, sometimes less, then realize this job sucks, this town sucks, and life sucks, so they get out before they lose their minds.” The woman looked up at him, vehemence in her eyes. “That or they go crazy.” 

“Crazy?” English asked. He didn’t know what this woman meant. She was younger than him, mid-twenties at the oldest. He didn’t know many women that age, but her clear hatred for her job surprised him. 

She shrugged. “There was one woman who worked here like, forever ago. She was crazy. Kept saying she saw people who weren’t there. Or things that weren’t there.” 

“Like what?” 

She shrugged again, her voice fading back to boredom. “I don’t know. I never met her. All I know is I’m not sticking around here long enough to lose my mind. I’m going to New York City to be a star.” 

English resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Congratulations.” 

She flashed him her first genuine smile and bagged his items. He handed her cash and stuffed his change in the bag with his purchase. On his way out, he took note of all the places someone could hide, or could hide something, before he left. 

He got in his SUV and sent Dex a text to look into the church and former employees, especially one who went crazy. Dex texted back that he’d report when he had something. 

English put his phone back in his pocket and accepted that he couldn’t stall any longer. His parents’ party was at seven, and it was getting close to five after his detour through town. If he knew his parents, they were going to want to be at the party by six, which meant he needed to clean up fast. 

He parked in front of the house he grew up in and turned off the SUV. The yard was trimmed neatly, but the beds around the house were overgrown. The paint on the siding was chipped and peeling. The roof was missing a few shingles. Gauzy white curtains fluttered in the windows, showcasing the lack of air conditioning no matter how warm it was outside for early September. 

English grabbed his duffle from the front seat and stepped out. He closed the door and locked the vehicle out of habit. He was halfway to the front door when it opened to his mom drying her hands on a dishtowel. 

“Oh, my God, Liam? Is that you?” 

“Hi, Mom.” 

“William! Liam is here!” 

“Liam?” 

His mom waved English closer, holding the door open while he closed the distance between them. She was in a blue dress he had seen her in before with a white apron around her waist. Her hair was up in her signature bun at the base of her neck with gray streaks throughout. English made it to her and leaned down to hug his mother, inhaling her pencil shavings and freshly baked bread scent. 

“Hi, Mom.” 

“Oh, Liam, I’m so happy you’re here. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” 

English chuckled. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise visit.” 

“This is the best surprise ever.” 

“I was hoping. It’s been a long time since I’ve been home.” 

“Too long,” his dad said from behind them. “Your mother’s been upset.” 

“Sorry. I should have visited. You guys can come to Niagara Falls sometime. I think you’d like it.” 

“You know we aren’t city people,” his mom said quickly. 

“Yeah, but it’s beautiful there.” 

“Can’t beat here,” his dad said roughly. It was the same old argument. Everything a person ever needed was right there in East Charlottesville. Why would anyone ever want to leave? 

English simply nodded, not engaging with his dad. He knew it wouldn’t end well since neither of them would change their minds. It wasn’t worth the fight. 

“Good to see you, Dad.” 

“You’re gaining weight. Sitting in front of that computer all the time isn’t good for you. Don’t you know sitting is the new smoking?” 

English almost laughed at his father’s words. Sure, English knew it, but he was surprised his father knew the latest medical advice doctors were sharing. English agreed with it, but that was why he made sure to get in a run every day, lifted weights, and used the punching bag in the office. He was not hurting for exercise. And he hadn’t gained weight since he left the military. 

“I’ll be careful,” English told his dad, knowing it wouldn’t silence him but was the best he could do. 

“If you’d have come to work at the factory, you’d be using your hands and would be on your feet all day. You wouldn’t have a chance to get fat.” 

English resisted the urge to show his father the six-pack under his shirt and simply nodded. “Is it okay if I stay here while I’m in town?” 

His father grunted, but his mother was quick to pull him inside and agree. “We wouldn’t have it any other way. Would we, William?” 

His dad grunted again and stepped back to let English pass. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes.” 

“I’ll be ready. I’m going to take a quick shower and get changed.” English didn’t wait for a reply before he headed down the short hallway toward the bedrooms. His parents’ room was at the end of the hall with a private bathroom. His room was to the left with a full bathroom on the opposite side. 

English put his stuff in his room and groaned internally at how little had changed. His science awards and movie posters still decorated his room. The space themed bedding he picked out when he was nine covered the bed. The same thin curtains that were in the front of the house covered the closed windows in his stuffy bedroom. He was already suffocating. But he had a job to do. 

English grabbed the clothes he packed for the party and went across the hall. He showered quickly, getting out in less than five minutes. He dressed in the clean clothes and grabbed his dirty ones. He put his phone, keys, and wallet into his pockets, then went back across the hall to drop off his clothes and grab his boots. 

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since he walked into the house, but his parents were at the front door waiting for him anyway. His dad made a point of looking at his watch when English walked out. “Glad you could join us.” 

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” English replied, his tone just as frustrated as his dad’s. 

“That giant vehicle you parked in the driveway is blocking me in.” 

“I thought the truck was yours.” 

“It is, but since there are three of us now, we need to take your mother’s car.” 

“Why don’t I drive?” 

“That big, fancy thing?” The disdain was more than clear in his tone. He wasn’t getting in English’s brand new Lincoln if his life depended on it. 

“I’ll park it on the street.” 

His dad shook his head and mumbled something about being late to their own party when English walked by. He backed his SUV out and parked in front of the house. His dad backed out right behind him and barely stopped long enough for English to fold himself into the backseat. 

“Everyone is going to be so happy to see you, Liam. They’ve all missed you.” 

“It’ll be good to see everyone,” English lied. “Hey, speaking of missing, I read about a woman who went missing last week. Jeanine Waterford. Did you know her?” 

His mother shook her head. “Jeanine was a little bit of a wild one. She probably took off with someone driving through town.” 

“Without telling anyone?” 

“She wasn’t really a part of this town. She didn’t work at the school or the factory,” his mom said. For a town of less than a thousand people, it amazed English that there were still classes. If you worked at the school or the factory, you were part of the in-crowd. If you didn’t, you might as well not exist. 

“I heard she worked at the church. I stopped by there on my way into—” 

“That woman skipping town is nothing you need to concern yourself with, Liam. She was nobody, and there ain’t nobody looking for her. The town’s better off without a woman like her trying to get half the married men into trouble.” 

Well, that was something he hadn’t read about the woman online. And it just gave him a pool of subjects. All the married people in town. 

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