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Trust Me
Rivers Edge - Book 1
By Lacey Black
Copyright © 2014 Lacey Black
Cover design by Ginny Gallagher
Website: www.ginsbooknotes.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Index
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Excerpt from Fight Me, Rivers Edge Book 2
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To my husband who fell asleep on the couch many nights while I sat at the computer writing. Thank you for supporting me, encouraging me, and believing in me during this journey. It’s because of your hard work and dedication to our family that I am able to follow my dream of writing this book.
Late. I glance at the watch on my wrist. Yep, I’m late again. But what’s new, right? Mom always likes to tease me saying I’m going to be late for my own funeral. I chuckle out loud at that one as I drive down the familiar country road heading to my family’s Sunday night dinner. Mom has playfully reminded me about my steady tardiness for as far back as I can remember. But hey, at least I’m consistent.
The first time I can recall her lighthearted teasing was when we were supposed to be heading to meet my grandparents for supper when I was about six years old. I can almost hear my brothers and my dad hollering up the stairs for me to hurry up like it was yesterday. We were already twenty minutes late and tension was starting to mount. Our family was heading into the city to go to dinner to celebrate my oldest brother, Jake, getting his license for his sixteenth birthday.
“Avery Elizabeth, you are going to be late for your own funeral,” my mom’s sing-song voice spoke over the group of males in my life as I descended the stairs. They all stopped pacing and grumbling and turned to look at me as I bounced down the stairs with blond pigtails and a big smile on my face. In all honesty, it was a smile that got me whatever I wanted; or out of whatever I wanted.
See, when you are the baby of the family with four older brothers, you learn real quick how to turn on the charm to get whatever you need. My oldest brother, Jake, has always been my biggest protector. He was ten years old when I was born and wasn’t exactly happy to see me come along. I battle him almost daily to let me fight my own fights and live my life on my own terms. His need to protect me is so fierce that it’s our biggest issue. Nate, just a year younger, was always Jake’s shadow. Growing up, Jake and Nate were as thick as thieves; where one went, the other was right behind. Stuck in the middle is Will, the smart one. Seven when I came along and always with a book in his hand, I am probably the closest to Will. With his adorable wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, he would read to me every night at bedtime and help me with my homework. Though there are seven years between us, he and I have the most in common and similar personalities. Finally, there’s Travis, the baby of the family for five years. Well, until my mom and dad enjoyed a late honeymoon for their twelfth anniversary which resulted in yours truly.
Mom and Dad met in high school and fell madly in love. When Mom tells the story, you can’t help but lay your head in your hands and sit starry eyed with a big love struck grin on your face. They were married when they were nineteen and both worked as much and as hard as possible. Dad was in the family construction business and Mom held a variety of odd jobs around town, but money had been tight in the beginning as it so often is with young love fresh out of high school. Instead they held off on a honeymoon, always saying they would take a big trip “someday”.
After each of the first three boys, Mom and Dad decided to try one more time for a daughter. When Travis came along, they decided to give up their quest for a daughter and keep content with raising their four energetic boys.
After twelve years of marriage the boys were all old enough to stay comfortably with our grandparents for a solid week, so Mom and Dad headed off on an Alaskan summer cruise. Six weeks after they returned, I announced my impending arrival into the family by making my mom sicker than she’s ever been…for five months straight!
I smile at the memory and take another peek into the rear view mirror at the smiling face of my mini-me. With long blond hair and the most beautiful light blue eyes you’ve ever seen, my three year old daughter, Brooklyn, is busy in the backseat having a conversation between herself and her newest stuffed animal, a kitten she named Miss Sparkles. I never tire of watching her. Watching her play. Watching her sleep. Watching the play of emotions cross her face as she watches cartoons on television. She is my greatest joy and the one good thing to come from my youthful indiscretion.
I turn my six year old black Jeep Wrangler off the country road and onto the familiar driveway to the home my family has owned since I was a year old. The big ranch style house sits comfortably on three acres of open yard surrounded by a few more acres of family owned timber. With a wide wraparound porch and inviting blue front door, it’s the home that brings me comfort and peace whenever my life is out of sorts. For the past four years, it’s been my refuge when I need a place to hide my tears from the world. The home I grew up in sits ten miles outside of Rivers Edge, Missouri, a small town of about seven thousand with big personality and even bigger gossips.
As I pull up and park, I see all of my brother’s vehicles already there, but that doesn’t surprise me any. Tapping my fingertips on the steering wheel, I murmur, “Always late.”
The sound of the Cowboys game blaring from the family room greets me as I open my door and help Brooklyn from her car seat. As I wrestle the lively three-year old, Miss Sparkles, the travel bag, and a Tupperware container of cupcakes from the backseat of the Wrangler, I hear the screen door open and fall shut. It’s quickly followed by my brother Will’s laughter ringing in my ears as I struggle to maintain my balance.
“Is that my favorite little Bean there?” he asks as he walks down the steps to come give me a hand.
Brooklyn whips around to catch a glimpse of her uncle who approaches us with a big grin on his handsome face. At six foot tall, Will has the same sparkling blue eyes and light blond hair that I have. His broad shoulders and muscular frame tower over my five foot, seven inch body and definitely over my three year old toddler. In fact, all four of my brothers are tall and broad with Jake and Nate being the biggest. They all take after our dad while I’m the spitting image of our mom. Blue eyes the color of the ocean, long blond hair with just enough curl in it to frustrate you, and a curvy figure thanks to nine months of eating Chips Ahoy cookies and dunking them in Dr. Pepper.
Brooklyn starts to shimmy and shake, trying to get out of my full arms to get to her Uncle Will. As the travel bag full of dolls and toys starts to
slip down my arm, Will quickly reaches in and grabs the wiggling toddler just before I lose my grip on the cupcakes. Crisis averted.
Taking Brooklyn from my arm, he kisses her repeatedly over her chubby little cheeks, making her giggle uncontrollably. “I’ve missed you so much! Have you missed Uncle Will?”
“Yep! Wook at my new kitty,” Brooklyn exclaims, throwing Miss Sparkles into Will’s face.
“She sure is a pretty little thing, Bean,” Will says as they start to walk up the front steps. He stops halfway and says, “Who’s your favorite uncle, anyway?” She throws her arms around Will’s neck and gives him a loud and enthusiastic, “YOU!”
“You’re my most favorite niece, too, Bean,” he says as he returns her big hug.
I don’t recall who bestowed the nickname Bean upon Brooklyn, but it happened in that crazy moment when my entire family flooded my hospital room to catch a glimpse at the first baby born in the family since my arrival nineteen years before. She was passed around from arms to arms for an hour before she finally made her way back to mine.
“She’s as long and skinny as a string bean,” I recall one of my brother’s saying as they all looked down in awe at the tiny sleeping person cradled securely in my arms. And just like that, it stuck. She’s been Brooklyn Bean since that moment.
Will opens the front door for me to step in before him, and I’m instantly assaulted by the loud voices and laughter that could only come from my older brothers. My mom, Elizabeth, rushes from the kitchen to the front door to help relieve me of part of my load, taking the cupcakes out of my hands before anything happens to the delicious treats. “You’re late,” she says with a hint of a smile.
“And that surprises you?” Will exclaims with laughter in his sparkling blue eyes.
“I’m sorry. Brooklyn didn’t go down for her nap until late,” I try to defend myself, but know it falls on deaf ears.
“There’s Grandma’s big girl!” Mom exclaims, stealing Brooklyn from Will’s arm. “Come see what treats Grandma has for you in the kitchen.” Mom and Brooklyn head into the kitchen to show off the latest sweet creation she’s made. Purely Sweet is a small bakery in town that Mom started when I was five years old with the encouragement of my dad and all of her friends. She is the go-to baker for everything cakes, cupcakes, candies, and rolls. What started out as a hobby, alone in her kitchen keeping busy while home with all of us kids, turned into a staple for a big portion of the town of Rivers Edge. I grew up within those delicious walls helping roll dough, mix batter, and spread icing. I fell in love with baking at the age of seven and worked every summer at Mom’s bakery growing up. There’s just something relaxing about baking. The delicious aroma of freshly baked breads and sweet treats is my second favorite scent ever. Only the scent of Brooklyn’s baby shampoo can top it.
Will nudges my shoulder with his to break the spell of memory lane as the crowd in the family room bursts into loud cheer. “Shall we go see what the excitement is all about?” he asks.
“Lead the way.”
As we walk into the family room, I see my dad, Michael, standing in front of his favorite easy chair, hands thrown in the air, celebrating the Cowboys’ recent touchdown. He catches our movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to face me and Will. A huge smile creeps across his handsome face. My dad is one of those guys who actually gets better looking the older he gets. His brown hair is graying quickly at this point of his fifty-three years, and his emerald green eyes shine with both adoration and kindness and just a hint of mischief mixed in.
“There’s my baby girl,” he says as he walks his six foot frame towards me. I may be the spitting image of my mom, but I have my dad’s personality. Calm yet passionate, quiet yet ornery as hell, I inherited all of the best traits.
“Hi, Daddy,” I mumble as my face is crushed against his broad chest. My dad is in great shape. He’s worked all his adult life - and quite a bit of his youth - in the family company, Stevens Construction. His father started it way back when, turning it over to his only son ten years ago. My dad has grown the business into the leader in the construction industry in three counties. My brother, Travis, joined the family business after his college graduation five years ago and has encouraged my dad to grow the business into new home construction. Now they cover everything for outbuildings, new homes, home remodeling, roofing, and concrete work.
“Where’s my little Bean?” he asks as he eases up on his tight embrace.
“She’s with Mom and probably suffering from her first sugar high of the night,” I tell him with a smile.
“Better her than me,” he proclaims with a chuckle.
I look around and notice that the living room seems to have more testosterone in it than usual, and considering my four brothers that is saying something. While they all give each other high-fives and congratulate each other on their ‘Boys most recent touchdown resulting in a last second win, I spot the familiar face that has haunted my dreams since I was sixteen years old. The guy I’ve secretly watched, dreamed about, and crushed on for what feels like my entire life. The boy who doesn’t even know I exist. The one I can never have. My oldest brother, Jake’s best friend, Maddox.
Nothing puts a smile on my face quicker than a last second win against the damn Eagles. Well, except a gorgeous and eager woman who agrees to accompany me to bed. At that thought, I contemplate making a phone call after I leave to one of the handful of numbers I have in my phone for just such instances which makes me smile even fucking more.
I catch sight of a smaller figure in my peripheral vision. Turning slowly my eyes slam into the crystal blue eyes of Avery Stevens, Jake’s little sister. The annoying little girl I’ve watched grow into the most beautiful woman. ‘Quit acting like a damn douche, asshole,’ I scold myself and try to turn my focus away from her endlessly long legs. ‘She’s your best friend’s little sister, and she’s only twenty-two.’
I watch her make her way around the room, hugging her brothers Nate and Travis. She’s listening to her brothers give a recap of the football game with her arms around Travis’s waist. She must be telling them a story because suddenly her arms are flying around animatedly and the guys laugh. She pats Travis’s chest and keeps moving, working the room.
She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses Travis’s friend, Clint, on the cheek giving him a friendly hello. My gut tightens as she smiles up at Clint and chats openly. I want to punch him in his damn face just for smiling back down at her, which pisses me off even more. Why am I having this uncontrollable urge to go ape-shit on Clint? Why am I even upset about this? She’s nothing to me but Jake’s little sister. If she wants to kiss someone else, even if on the cheek, who am I to stop her? I take a long pull from my beer bottle just to keep myself from saying something stupid and run my fingers through my hair to keep from grabbing Clint by the shirt and kicking his ass.
Avery finally makes her way to Jake throwing her arms around his neck. He picks her up and spins her around like a rag doll. A very beautiful rag doll. When he sets her back down on the floor, my eyes once again collide with hers. She gives me a small, shy smile making my pants tighter in an instant. I give her a quick, cocky grin and then turn my attention back to the television. The last thing I need is to embarrass myself in front of the entire Stevens family. Jake would kick my ass if he knew what just happened below my belt. Hell, I want to kick my own ass right now.
“Hey, Avery,” I say casually over my shoulder and avoid further eye contact. Looking in her eyes is like looking at the sun. You’re blinded instantly by their sheer beauty. By their depth. By their utter sexiness.
“Hi, Maddox,” she replies in her sweet voice. It reminds me of sex: a little breathless mixed with a little need. And there I go, again, with the wood. So, I turn back fully towards the TV and watch the start of the post-game show.
“Did the ‘Boys win?” she asks Jake as they both turn their attention to the television.
“Had us on the edge of our damn seats until the last min
ute, but they pulled it off,” Jake replies. “Where’s my niece?”
“She’s stuffing her face with cookies and candy in the kitchen with Mom,” Avery replies with a smile on her face. Whenever she talks about her little girl I notice that she smiles. You can hear it in her voice.
I know absolute zilch about kids, but, I have to admit that this one is cute as hell. Brooklyn is the spitting image of Avery with long blond hair, a beautiful heart shaped face, and crystal blue eyes that make the exotic waters of Hawaii look dull and uninviting. I’m glad Brooklyn looks so much like her mom. I’d hate for her to resemble her douchebag father, Drake Connor, in any way. That dick doesn’t deserve to have anyone resemble him, nor does he have the right to look at Avery and Brooklyn and bask in their simple beauty.
“Hey, I thought on my next day off this week I would stop by and switch vehicles with you so I can change the oil and do all the other maintenance you girls always forget to do,” Jake says.
“I don’t forget! I just know that you’re going to insist on doing it all yourself, Mr. Control Freak, so I sit back and let you to avoid the argument. Come and get it whenever you want it. I’ll leave you some money.”
“I don’t want your damn money, Avery. I already have the oil and filters at my house. I’ll swing by your house before you leave for work or trade vehicles after you get to work,” Jake decrees.
“That sounds good to me either way. Just let me know when so I can get it cleaned out beforehand. Don’t want you yelling at me,” Avery says with a big smile on her face.
“Jesus, woman. Why do you insist on pushing all my buttons?” Jake asks with a stern shake of his head.
“It’s my job as little sister. Besides, it’s a lot of fun,” she replies with another grin and giggles.
“Speaking of jobs, how’s the new one going?” Jake asks.
“Good. Mr. Andrews is a great boss and is really flexible when it comes to Brooklyn. He understands I’m a single mom and allows me to take time to tend to her needs whenever I need to.”