Authors: Justine Dell
All-American Girl
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Justine Dell
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Omnific Publishing
Dallas
All-American Girl, Copyright © 2013 by Justine Dell
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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Omnific Publishing
10000 North Central Expressway, Dallas, TX 75231
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First Omnific eBook edition, February 2013
First Omnific trade paperback edition, February 2013
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
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Dell, Justine.
All-American Girl / Justine Dell – 1st ed
ISBN: 978-1-623420-11-6
1. Small Town—Romance. 2. Contemporary Romance—Fiction. 3. Divorce—Romance. 4. Vermont—Romance. I. Title
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Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw
Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna
To my husband, whose strength gives me strength.
Thank you for always being there.
To Sarah, even though you want to stab my characters
with a fork sometimes, you still believe in me.
“Expectation is the root of all heartache.”
~Unknown
S
AMANTHA
B
OUNDED
A
ROUND
H
ER
B
EDROOM
, letting her long, damp hair swish with each step. She could barely contain the jitters. At eighteen, nerves were still normal, right?
“Knock, knock.” Her best friend, Candice, popped her head in.
“Oh! Hey, come in! I’m in the closet.” Samantha tore a few things from hangers and immediately tossed them onto the floor. Weeding through her wardrobe, she grabbed a couple more items, held them up, and rejected them, too.
“Problems?” Candice’s amusement was obvious as she slid into the tight space.
Samantha pulled her in for a hug. “Yes. I’m a mess. Help me?” She drew back carefully. “Unless this is awkward for you?”
Candice waved her off and plucked a few pieces from the closet. “Awkward? God, no. You and Lance have been eye-balling each other even before puberty. God forbid I stand in the way now.”
Samantha exploded with laughter. “It hasn’t been that long.”
Candice’s eye went wide. “Oh really? I beg to differ.”
“You’re sure this isn’t weird?”
“
No.
Stop asking. He’s my brother, not my boyfriend.” Candice shuddered. “Ew, that was just a creepy thought. Forget I ever said that.”
“Done.”
“Besides,” Candice added, holding up a summer dress for Samantha to examine, “isn’t this date more of a thank you? Or did you two finally decide it was an official
I-like-you-and-want-to-date-you
kind of thing?”
Taking the dress Candice held out, Samantha drew her bottom lip into her mouth. “Well, it’s a thank you, although I’m not sure what that means. The word ‘date’ never really came out of his mouth.” She tossed the dress to the floor.
“But he said to look nice.” Candice bumped Samantha’s shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s a date. And it’s about damn time.”
“Candice!”
“Put this one on.” She shoved a yellow frock into Samantha’s hand. “It’s his favorite color.”
Samantha wiggled into it. The fabric was soft and easy to move in. Wide shoulder straps led down to the heart-shaped bust line, and tiny buttons went from the top all the way down to the hem, which touched just above her knee. It was snug on her chest and hips and flawlessly bouncy around her thighs.
“It’s perfect.” Candice beamed.
Samantha spun about. “It is, isn’t it?”
“The perfect dress for the perfect occasion.”
“Don’t get me all worked up again. I was just calming down.”
Candice drew Samantha from the closet and sat her down on the bed. She snatched a hairbrush and some products from the dresser and crawled up on her knees behind Samantha.
“Are you really that nervous?” she asked. With deft fingers, she gave Samantha a deep side part and worked some anti-frizz serum into her hair.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
She pinched the back of Samantha’s arm.
“Ouch!” Samantha went to jump up, but Candice’s firm grip on her hair stopped her.
“Sorry. Did that feel real?”
Samantha smiled, groaning, and rubbed the spot. “Yeah, totally real. It hurt like hell.”
“And this date is real.”
Samantha tilted her head back as Candice worked on her hair, pinning and scrunching until Samantha felt like a pin-cushion.
“Maybe it will feel real once I see Lance in the driveway.”
“There.” Candice hopped of the bed and pulled Samantha to her feet. “Come look.”
Samantha gasped when she saw her reflection. Her hair, normally wild and unruly, hung in perfect little ringlets around her shoulders. Half had been pulled up into a spray of curls around the crown of her head.
“Now, makeup.”
Samantha playfully rolled her eyes, and Candice applied light foundation, a hint of blush, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Less was more sometimes.
“You’re beautiful,
Sam,
” Candice teased.
“God, please don’t call me that.”
“Why? Lance does.”
“I hate that he does. I wish he wouldn’t.”
“I think it’s cute.”
Samantha frowned. Maybe he was trying to be cute.
“What time will he be here?”
Samantha glanced at the clock. “Ten minutes.” She hand flew to her stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”
Candice wrapped an arm around Samantha’s waist, drawing her into the hallway and down the stairs.
“Don’t be nervous and, for God’s sake, don’t get sick in Lance’s truck. You’ve known each other since you were little. There’s no way you’ll run out of things to talk about.”
True. Samantha knew that. But if it was a date, and really she hoped it was, would their conversation be different? Would
he
be different?
“Just be yourself, and everything else will fall into place. Which reminds me…have you heard back from that writing school in New York?”
“No, not yet. I was put on their wait list forever ago. It’s getting pretty close to the beginning of the semester, so if I’m going to hear something it will be soon.”
Candice squeezed her hand. “You will hear something. Your writing is amazing.”
“I hope so.” But that thought made Samantha pause. Now that things seemed to be taking off with Lance, if she got into that school, would she really be able to walk away from him?
Her biggest dream was to make a better life for herself in the big city. To show the world she could accomplish something great and to make her family proud of her. If this night with Lance turned into something,
and
she got into writing school, she would have to make a very tough decision.
They stepped in unison in the foyer.
“Oh, my dear!” Gram exclaimed from behind them. “Turn around, and let me get a look at you!”
Samantha obliged, grinning. “How do I look?”
“Marvelous.” Gram scurried up the hall and gave Samantha a kiss on the cheek. “Lance won’t know what hit him.”
“It’s not a date, Gram.”
“Oh, phooey. That man can’t see what he’s missing. Doesn’t she look wonderful, Cole?”
All eyes swung to Cole sitting in his make-shift hospital bed in the living room. He barely spared Samantha a glance. “Whatever.”
Gram patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about him. He’s grumpy today. He got fitted for his new prosthetic, and he’s not getting around that great yet.”
Samantha’s heart clenched. “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well, Cole.” She crossed over to him and knelt. “Would you like for me to bring you back some of your favorite ice cream or something? Name it.”
He swatted her away. “Don’t bother. Go have fun with my best friend.”
Frowning, she spun around, glancing at her older brother over her shoulder. “I love you,” she said quietly.
He rolled his eyes but said, “You do look nice, by the way. Now get out of my face.”
“He’s here!” Candice called out. Her face was plastered against the glass window of the front door.
“Get away from there,” Gram scolded. “Let the man come to the door without feeling like he’s in a peep-show.”
Candice’s face went red and she backed off.
This was it.
It’s just a thank you dinner. It’s just a thank you dinner. Don’t get your hopes up.
Samantha straightened her dress, adjusted her hair, and fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist. When the knock came, loud and confident, her breath rushed out.
It was time. Samantha cast a quick smile to her brother. “Thank you,” she mouthed, knowing how hard it was for her only brother to let her go out with his best friend.
Candice swung open the door.
The last thing Samantha remembered thinking before she stepped outside was,
God, he’s gorgeous.
“Well?” Candice’s chipper voice shrieked over the phone the next morning.
Samantha had been up less than five minutes when her best friend called. “I need more sleep,” she mumbled.
“What time did you get home?” she badgered.
Samantha allowed herself a slow smile and a stretch.
Ouch.
She had some pain in her muscles from the night before, but when she remembered the glorious way she got them, she realized it was all worth it. Suddenly energized, she leaped out of bed.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost noon.”
She’d slept half the day away; Lance really did a number on her. He was so perfect in every way and such a gentleman throughout the night. He’d opened her door, took her hand to help her sit, led her everywhere, and even asked if she’d been cold. Not to mention the blazing, hungry stare or the simple rub of his fingers along her arm, her back…her legs…
“Samantha?”
She snapped back to attention. “What?”
“Did you have fun?”
The most fun a girl could have, she imagined. She’d given her heart and body to the man she’d loved for what seemed like an eternity. He owned a piece of her—the piece she’d never given to anyone until now.
“The best time ever, Candice. I love your brother—” She smacked a hand over her mouth. “Uh, maybe we should talk about something else?”
Candice only laughed. “Nonsense. You’re my best friend and friends talk about this kind of stuff, even if this is a little weird.”
“Thank you.”
“But remember that you can talk to me about anything—my boneheaded brother included. Don’t let him give you any trouble now. Just tell me this: did you two make it official?”
Samantha almost purred at how
official
they had made it. She’d never be able to sit in the cab of his truck and have pure thoughts again. “Yes,” she said, her voice a little strained from the sudden memories of the night before. “I think we made it more than official.”
Samantha heard a loud clunk from the other end of the line. “Candice?”
“Sorry,” Candice said. “Dropped the phone. I wasn’t really expecting
that.
”
Samantha’s face grew warmer. “Sorry, talk about something else.”
“No, it’s all right. You deserve to be happy.”
“I
am
happy. More than happy. I think I could jump over the moon right now.”
Candice huffed in what Samantha interpreted as approval. “It’s about time.”
Samantha couldn’t contain her energy or excitement. Her insides felt like she was going to burst. Never in her life had she imagined that her night with Lance would have ended up that way. He’d finally admitted to years of crushing on her, but he’d been afraid of pursuing her because of her brother and his sister. But after she’d talked to him the night he’d barreled down the driveway looking worse for wear, he’d said he couldn’t stay away from her any longer. He’d been kidding himself. He needed her. Wanted her. God—she’d waited ages to hear those words.
A grin split her blushing cheeks. She cleaned the house, mopped the floors
—twice—
and was getting ready to mow the lawn when Cole rolled up the driveway with Gram.
His face was pale, weary, and her heart went out to him. He’d never been the same since the accident. Losing their parents was hard enough, but he’d lost of part of himself, too.
Gram bobbled out and helped Cole up. He was on crutches and struggling with the prosthetic leg.
“I got it, Gram,” he said, wincing. “Go on in.”
Gram frowned but gave in; Cole was nothing if not stubborn. “I’ll make you two some lunch, sound good?”
“That’d be great, Gram,” Samantha called out. She watched Cole hobble over the gravel driveway, straining with each painful step. “Sure you don’t want help?”
“I’ve got it.” He plopped down on the first porch step he came to, tossing the crutches to the side. “Got a sec?”
“Sure.” She pushed the mower out of the way and sat beside him. “What’s up?”
“How was your date last night?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and the sides of her mouth twitched into a smile. “Wonderful.”
Deep frown lines creased his forehead. Sweat beaded at his temple. “I’m glad you had fun.”
She patted his good leg, still beaming. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me go with him. I know how hard it was for you, being your best friend and all. And if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d be so nice about it.”