Mine to Steal (Mine to Love)

BOOK: Mine to Steal (Mine to Love)
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Mine to Steal

a
novel

by
T.K. Rapp

Mine to Steal

by T.K. Rapp

 

©
Copyright Notice

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are either product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the author, T.K. Rapp.

 

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or give away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

 

Cover Design by T.K. Rapp

Edited by Editing 4 Indies

Cover Imag
e
Courtesy ~ Altafulla/Bigstock.com

Copyright © 2014 T.K. Rapp

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

 

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Epilogue

 

Prologue

I hate weddings
.

Hate
may not even be the right word to describe my absolute contempt for the tradition that men are dragged to every weekend. People think clubs and bars are meat markets, and maybe they are - for women. But the male equivalent is a wedding. Friends of the bride glance around for someone who will fit into the picture of
their
wedding, while crappy DJs play even worse music and there is too much pink for any man to take.

W
hat twenty-eight-year-old single guy willingly goes to a wedding? I’ll tell you - the one who’s waiting to see what’s in it for him.

I wish Emogen were still here keeping me company.

Her sister, Langley, had just married a guy I met once before, and he seems nice enough. In all honesty, the ceremony wasn’t bad, but I feel like a tool sitting here at this reception alone while she’s outside, most likely with Ryan. I knew when she asked me to be her plus one, it was really him she wanted, but I still agreed to it. Hell, more than anything, I hoped she would give me a chance to be what she needed.

Maybe there’s still time.

I glance at my watch and note she’s been gone for over thirty minutes. Not that I’m counting.

There’s nothing else to do but sit here and wait. I feel like I’m in front of a firing squad
awaiting my fate, but I already know. The beer sitting in front of me is beading with condensation, so I grab it to take a swig before it gets any warmer.  The moment I bring the bottle to my mouth, I see Emogen making her way through the entrance.

Damn, she’s beautiful. She’s a mess, but she’s beautiful.

Across the room, even from this distance, I can read it. I know everything she’s about to say before she says it.

She approaches me
, and I can tell she’s been crying, and I already know what that means.

“He found you?” I ask, knowing her answer. He’s not a complete idiot, there’s no way he’d let the
opportunity to get her back slip past.

She appears almost guilty when her eyes meet mine, and she nods as she whispers
, “Yeah.” Her features contort to confusion when she follows that single word with a question. “Why did you send him after me?”

“Because, I knew it’s what you wanted,” I answer her honestly. I have not always been a
stand-up guy when it comes to women I’m interested in, but Em was never truly mine. My words cause tears to form in her blue eyes, and I have to fight the urge to pull her to me and tell her she
should
be with me. To give
us
a chance.

Us
.

I shake my head at the thought. There
never was an
us
, so I say nothing.

“You’re kinda perfect, Trey.” Em saying my name sends a jolt to my chest, and I know she’s telling me I was right to let her go.

What do I have to lose? I’ve lost the girl - which I never really had - so I decide to let the old Trey make an appearance, albeit a brief one. I pull her to me, and she assumes I’m going to hug her. Instead, I lift her chin so she looks at me, and I plant a soft kiss on her lips. They are salty from her tears and for a moment, I regret sending Ryan after her.

The few times we’ve kissed have left me torn between shoving her out the door
and dragging her to my room to see where it might lead.

But this kiss is goodbye.

I release her from my grasp, and she wraps her arms around herself as she looks to the ground. When I glance down to see what’s gotten her attention, she is toeing her foot nervously and muttering something to herself. I begin to feel a small pang of regret for what I did. When I gaze into her eyes to apologize she looks away and drops her chin down before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

 

“Whoa, slow down,” I warned the lanky girl who ran into my chest. Her small frame barreled into me with so much force it almost knocked the breath out of me. The kid had shoulder-length brown hair that was in disarray, and she was looking around nervously.

I
peered down at her, the runny nose and red puffy eyes were nothing compared to her ragged breath. “Are you okay?” I asked as I looked around to see if someone was chasing her while simultaneously checking her for any visible injuries. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Yes - No. I’m fine,
” she stammered, looking intently at the ground.

I
tried to get her to look into my eyes so I could confirm she was okay, but she turned away, as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She started whispering something and it took me a moment to realize she was silently counting.

 

I’m momentarily sidetracked by the long-forgotten memory of the young girl, and when I snap to the present, I see Em with a concerned expression.

“Emogen Kane, you’re everything I never knew I wanted, but you belong to someone else.” I wait for her to say something to the contrary, but she doesn’t, so I drive my last point home. “But if he screws up, you call me.”

The words that come from me are the truth, and it pushes something inside of me. Before meeting her, I never really wanted to settle down with anyone, not that I was planning on settling down with her. But there was something about Em, or the
idea
of her, that made me curious enough to want to see what more would be like. Looking into her eyes, it confirms what I’ve already known for some time, she will never be with me.

I turn back to my chair and grab my coat before leaving her standing at the table where she found me. As I move to
the exit, I see Ryan standing in the doorway, and I’m pretty sure he saw everything that happened. Rather than be a dick about it, I stop to offer him what little bit I’m willing to at this moment.

“You know you fucked up leaving her, right?”

He doesn’t look at me; instead he keeps his eyes locked on Em as he nods his understanding. Like I said, the guy isn’t an idiot. Hell, I’m pretty sure he’s beating himself up for letting her go in the first place, but it’s evident that he loves her.

“Good. Then do me a favor and take care of her. I don’t have to remind you that she’s special and only a jackass would let her get away - twice. So if you fuck up, know
there will be someone waiting to take her and treat her the way she deserves.” I pat his shoulder as I move past him and offer him one final farewell. “Good luck, man.”

As I walk outside,
I’m struck by the number of stars visible overhead. “One in a million,” I mutter to myself. Surely there has to be another, because she was never mine.

Chapter 1

There is something nagging at me in my head telling me it isn’t going to be my day; a looming suspicion that something
is going to happen. Whatever it is, it’s not going to be good. As much as I’d love to skip out and do nothing, as head of my own marketing a public relations firm, there are certain expectations. Those include showing up, making sure the team is on track, and setting the example. I don’t have the luxury of calling in ‘sick.’

I’m already running late when I stop into the kitchen to turn off the coffee pot and grab my keys. I know I’m forgetting something, but I’ll have to worry about
it later.

When I get into my car, I run through my mental checklist of everything I usually have, and still nothing comes to mind, so I put the key in the ignition and listen to the roar of the engine. My car is the one thing I splurged on when my company started to do well
; she’s my baby.

I throw the car in gear and head out of the apartment complex toward the office while thinking about my ever-growing list of action items.
Every day, I think I’ve made strides in knocking it down a bit, but every morning, new ones are added. My assistant, Hattie, keeps me on track with my meetings and knows how to handle the occasional issues that come up, but lately, I think we’re both drowning in lists. Every time I think I have a moment to breathe, something else comes up.

As I walk into the
building, Hattie greets me with her usual cheery tone. She’s always dressed professionally, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice that she’s attractive. Her wavy dark blond hair is usually pulled up into some sort of messy ponytail, but it looks good. And if she foregoes the contacts for the day, she has that whole, hot-teach vibe happening. But she’s off limits because for one, she’s an employee that I really value. The other
bigger
reason is her six-foot, two hundred pound, professional football player boyfriend. So things are completely professional around here.

She follows me into my office and
notifies me that one client rescheduled a meeting for next week, while another has demanded that we meet today because of a PR nightmare created by the owner’s son and his recent, shall we say, extracurriculars?

“And it’s only eight o’clock,” I murmur
. Hattie smiles a crooked grin in understanding as she turns to leave the room. I make my way to my chair and slip out my phone that has been buzzing non-stop in my pocket every few minutes. I toss it onto my desk to give myself a second before diving into the day ahead.

“Trey?” Hattie’s voice comes over the intercom in my office. “Emogen Kane is on the line.”

My palms meet my eyes and I rub them as if the gesture has the ability to makes it -
her
- go away. I avoided talking to Em for a few weeks after her sister’s wedding, but then she started emailing, texting and calling. At first I thought that maybe she changed her mind about us, but quickly realized it was wishful thinking. I have done my best to stay out of her path, but she’s relentless. We have no reason to talk. She made her decision and yet, she continues to call every few weeks to ‘catch up.’

“Take a message,” I say in a hurry before disconnecting the line.

Em informed me I had become someone she considered a good friend, and she needed me. But what I needed, what I
still
need, is distance. Every time I talk to her, with the intention of making that exact point, she somehow changes tactics, and we end up making plans to meet for lunch. And every time we meet for lunch, I come back to the office frustrated that somehow, she still gets under my skin.

BOOK: Mine to Steal (Mine to Love)
7.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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