Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (94 page)

Take a trip to Beachwood Bay! Discover the USA Today bestselling series from Melody Grace.

BEACHWOOD BAY

BOOK 1: UNTOUCHED (Emerson & Juliet’s story begins)

BOOK 2: UNBROKEN (Emerson & Juliet’s story continues)

BOOK 3: UNTAMED HEARTS (Brit & Hunter’s story begins)

BOOK 4: UNAFRAID (Brit & Hunter’s story continues)

BOOK 5: UNWRAPPED (Lacey & Daniel’s holiday novella)

BOOK 6: UNCONDITIONAL (Garret & Carina)

BEACHWOOD BAY: THE CALLAHANS

BOOK 7: UNREQUITED (Dex & Alicia begin – novella)

BOOK 8: UNINHIBITED (Dex & Alicia) -- JULY 2014

BOOK 9: UNSTOPPABLE (Ryland & Tegan) -- OCT 2014

BOOK 10: UNEXPECTEDLY YOURS (holiday novella) – DEC 2014

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

http://melodygracebooks.blogspot.com

Melody Grace is a small-town girl turned SoCal beach lover. After spending her life with her nose in a book, she decided it was time she wrote one herself. She loves steamy romance novels, happily-ever-afters, and lusting after fictional menfolk.

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LOVE LOVE

By

Beth Michele

© 2013 by Beth Michele. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

Cover Design by Richard Luciano. Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

Editing by Erin Roth, Wise Owl Editing

BOOK DESCRIPTION

Gabrielle Willis is smart. She's funny. And oh yes, she's a bit klutzy.

When Gabrielle left sunny California bound for the energy of Manhattan, she was willingly leaving the life she had known for the new life she would create. But was she really leaving something behind or was she running away?

On the outside, Gabrielle Willis has it all under control. A new life in Manhattan, a great roommate, and a good job. But she is haunted. Haunted by a memory she's tried to forget and by a family who's abandoned her. But what happens when what's on the outside is only an illusion and in perfect contradiction to what's buried deep within?

Enter Dane Rhodes. He's gorgeous, smart, and sexy as hell. Just what Gabby wants, or so she thinks. But when she meets Brad Dixon, the sweet guy with the crooked smile, he begins to make her see that the very thing she is trying to run from is the very thing that just may push her to see the light.

PROLOGUE

THIS WAS THE moment I’d waited for my entire life, or so I thought. That’s if you consider twenty-two years an entire life. It started out as a perfect day, but perfection can be an illusion.

Our blue gowns were fanning the breeze as we made our way up to the podium. The wind blowing through my hair made me feel alive and free. I was inches away from my long awaited independence. All those days I sat on the bleachers, watching UC Berkeley football games and daydreaming about life after college, and it was finally here. My feet were making their way up the stairs quickly. They had a mind of their own and I had difficulty keeping up with them. They obviously knew something I didn’t.

Mr. Shorley shook my hand firmly as he happily handed me my degree. The sun’s rays bouncing off the paper gave it a rare glow.
This
was my golden ticket. Even better than a lifetime supply of Wonka bars.

As I walked across the stage, I caught a glimpse of Clark and Fran. Clark gave me a wink that made my insides melt, and Fran mooned me. Her heart-shaped ass catching the summer wind was her unusual way of congratulating me. It made me smile. My parents however, didn’t have the same reaction; I caught their grimaces, the warm air surrounding me suddenly stale and cold.

* * * * *

THE GRADUATION PARTY at my house was rip-roaring. The music was blaring, the alcohol flowing, and the hips grinding. The party was a lot more than my parents bargained for when they agreed to it. The adults were outside on the moonlit patio, tossing down hard liquor and blowing smoke rings, while the graduates were inside bringing down the house. I was with my two favorite people. Clark Thompson, my boyfriend since high school, and Fran Heller, my best friend of fifteen years.

Fran and I met in fourth grade. Her mom moved her from the Bronx to California to get away from her physically abusive asshole dad. She’s had a tough life, but given the hand she was dealt, she always manages to remain optimistic. I admire that about her. She comes across like she’s hard when really, she’s anything but. Thinking about Fran always makes me smile. We had an instant connection. They used to call me “Candy Girl” in elementary school because I was always either eating candy or giving it away. From the moment Fran slipped a Hershey’s Bar under my desk in fourth grade, she had me, and we had each other.

Clark and I met our sophomore year of high school. I was standing at my locker in between classes and the hallway was packed. My head was buried in books when something crashed hard against my back. Turned out it was Gavin Boone, quarterback of our crappy football team. He wasn’t looking where the hell he was going, lucky for me. I was knocked to the ground, and when I looked up, I was met by baby blues and a forehead crinkle.
Clark
.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Never better,” I said, rolling my eyes, trickles of pain shooting up my spine.

In the midst of the run in, my bag spilled with all of my personal belongings. I watched in horror as the evidence of my adolescence covered the ground. Clark bent down to help me, and without batting an eye, proceeded to scoop up the Playtex tampons and put them back in the box. He made a beeline right for them. Who does that? When he was done, he bumped my shoulder and shrugged his. “It’s just life, right?”

He was the one who embraced my soul in the palm of his hands. The one who lent his ear while I rambled endlessly about my parents and all their bullshit. He was the one who supported me when I fell on my ass and the one whose broad shoulders carried all of my tears.

Clark introduced me to surprises. Bringing me flowers after school just because. Leaving bags of Hershey’s Kisses in my locker with little notes like “I love you, sweetness.” Even blindfolding me and taking me on little adventures to the beach, my favorite place in the world.

God, I loved Clark. He made me giggle and gave me those crazy butterflies. In high school, we’d make out under the bleachers, in his car, basically anywhere we could get our hands on each other. A single wink from him would cause my heart to explode, and that musky scent of his drove me beyond the borders of desire. I lost my virginity to Clark when we were seventeen. We were so in love, and while it was incredibly romantic, honestly, it hurt like hell. Nothing like you see in the movies. But Clark was gentle and sweet, and never made me feel the least bit embarrassed or uncomfortable, even when he saw spots of blood on the sheet. While Clark had experienced sex before, that was my first time, and it was glaringly obvious. Nonetheless, I’ll never forget it. He moved inside of me with such tenderness and cradled me with his touch. Afterwards, he gently touched his lips to mine before walking away and coming back with a warm washcloth. “Let me clean you up Angel.” Could he have been any sweeter?

“Gabby.” A voice startled me from my nostalgic moment. My beloved mother. It’s fascinating that even over the loud music, I could still hear the shrill of her voice. “I’d like to speak with you for a minute.”

I cupped my hand to my ear. “What?” I said, pretending I didn’t hear her.

“I need to speak with you, dear,” she said again, her face set with a frown so deep it was probably where the term frown lines came from.

My mother followed behind me, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as I walked toward the sliding glass doors leading to the patio. I pulled open the handle, only to be met by a blast of muggy air and the heavy stench of cigarette smoke. She grabbed my hand to stop me.

“No, not outside dear. Let’s go in the hallway.”

We made our way down the hall and she stopped short, shaking her head as she glanced up and down my body at the white t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and blue Converse sneakers I’d decided to wear.

“Gabby. This is a party. Don’t you think you could have chosen something a bit more festive, like a dress perhaps?” She was impeccably dressed, as always, in her emerald green Vera Wang silk dress and her black Manolo Blahnik slingbacks. Her sleek brown hair was pulled up in a perfect bun, complete with diamond clip, and her makeup was flawless, almost as if she’d just left the Chanel counter at the mall.

“Mom,” I began, the alcohol causing my words to slur a bit. “When was the last time you saw me in a dress? You know I don’t like to wear them. Remember, you’re always telling me they make my hips look too curvy and my legs look too thin?”

She fanned her hand in front of her face. “My God, Gabby, you smell like a brewery. I don’t think you should have anything else to drink.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Mom. First of all, this is a graduation party; and secondly, I’m twenty-two years old, how much I drink is currently up to me.”

She clenched her fists at her sides and rolled her eyes at me, a look of pure disgust crossing her face. “I also didn’t realize Clark’s parents were going to be here.”

I had to contain myself from hauling back and shaking around any sense that might have been left in my mother’s body. “Mom, Clark and I have been together for
seven
years, and this is
our
graduation day; of course his parents are going to be here.”

My parents were not fans of Clark’s mom and dad. The mail clerk and the bus driver just didn’t meet their social status requirements.

I tried my best distraction technique. “Where’s Dad?”

My mother sucked her teeth. “He’s out back with his latest girlfriend.”

“I haven’t seen Olivia either. Where is she?”

“Olivia had another party to go to,” she said nonchalantly.

“Of course. Another one that was more important than her own sister’s.” I let out a sarcastic laugh and felt Clark’s warm hand on my shoulder.

“Hello, Mrs. Willis,” Clark greeted her with a broad smile.

“Hello, Clark,” my mother replied, years of disapproval sliding off her tongue.

My parents were never Clark’s biggest fans. The fact that he loved me and was so good to me didn’t impress them. They wanted me to marry rich and live in the big mansion on a perfect tree-lined street, complete with manicured lawn, fountain, and in-ground pool; perfect replica of our house. Thanks, but no thanks. Granted, they weren’t the best role models for long-lasting relationships. My parents were high school sweethearts, but thirty years later they hated each other. That wasn’t going to be me and Clark. We could get through anything.

My mom made a tisking sound then skulked away. Clark took my hand and led me into the small den where I used to watch television as a child. The only room that was suitable for us to play in growing up so we didn’t destroy the near perfection of the rest of the house. He sat me down on the yellow sofa, stained with years of chocolate milk spills and my favorite purple marker, ran his fingers through my chestnut strands, then tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Talk to me, Angel, what did your mother do now?”

I looked around the room at years of childhood memories. Family photographs from our trip to Disney World, a cuckoo clock that I always got in trouble for playing with, the piano where I learned how to play Chopsticks. “Nothing’s ever good enough for her, you know? I don’t remember the last time either of them had a kind word to say about me. I’m just one giant disappointment in their eyes.” I continued to stare at a spot on the yellow couch.

“Angel, look at me.” Clark lifted my chin and stroked his fingers gently across my cheek. “Your mom doesn’t define you.
You
define you, and from where I’m standing, you’re doing a damn good job.” He moved closer and kissed me softly. Taking my hand, he lifted up one finger and kissed it. “Let’s see: you’re smart.” He lifted another one and surrounded it with his lips. “You’re funny as hell.” Another finger arrived at his mouth for a kiss. “You’re caring and kind.” He pulled my pinky to his mouth for a final kiss. “You’re breathtakingly beautiful. So, screw your mom. I’d say you’ve defined yourself pretty well.” Clark wrapped his comforting arms around me and suddenly all was right with the world. “Come on, let’s go back out there and celebrate the beginning of the rest of our lives.”