Love, Me: A Pleasant Valley Novel Read online

  LOVE, ME

  A Pleasant Valley Novel

  ANNA BROOKS

  Copyright © 2017 Anna Brooks

  Published by Anna Brooks

  Cover design by Cover to Cover Designs

  Editing by Editing4Indies

  Formatting by Champagne Formats

  Proofreading by Vivid Words Editing

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark 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.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Anna Brooks

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Previews

  Dedication

  If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of guilt that you know is not yours to hold,

  or been the one to hang on to a love that’s not there, this book is for you.

  It’s okay to move on, and it’s okay to let go.

  It’s okay to be happy.

  Chapter 1

  Rayne

  The alarm beeps as I enter the restaurant, and after typing in the code, silence surrounds me. The faint smell of onion and garlic lingers in the air, nostalgia hitting me like it does every time I step foot inside this place.

  I pull open the blinds and let the sun shine through the windows and then begin flipping down the chairs from the tables. The legs of the chairs screech when I slide them over the old wooden floor, each seat different from the next. The vintage furniture reflects so much of who I am. I can’t help but smile at the memories I have here.

  Since we’re only open from eleven to three, I don’t arrive until nine to begin prep for the day. By the time I finish chopping veggies and have the soup simmering, Polly, my hostess and waitress, comes in.

  Her always-present smile shines. “Morning.”

  “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Fine. Another day, ya know?” She hangs her purse on a hook, and we walk out to the front while she twists her reddish-blond hair up in a bun.

  “Sure do.” Each day that passes is just that . . . another twenty-four hours added to the days since he’s been gone.

  As soon as we’re finished setting the tables and brewing the coffee, I flip on the Open sign, and the rush begins. Polly seats guests and takes orders while I make their lunches. The Lunch Box is known for its delicious homemade soups and sandwiches. That’s the only thing on the menu. We serve fries or chips as well, but the small menu and quality ingredients make it a hit, especially with the locals.

  My parents started the restaurant together twenty years ago. I happily took over the responsibilities while they went on a much deserved and needed three-and-a-half-week cruise. They’ve been gone for a couple of days so far, and although I like to pretend to be in charge, I can’t wait for them to come back. Running the restaurant by myself kind of sucks.

  Regulars pile in along with men wearing dirty tank tops and others with business suits. I rush back and forth from the kitchen to the tables. I do like being busy like this, and I love seeing people enjoy the food I’ve made, but doing the work of three people is tiring. A soft hand wraps around my wrist, and I quickly turn.

  “Hey, Ed.” I pat the old man on the shoulder and top off his coffee.

  “You look awfully pretty today, Ms. Rayne. Your eyes look like the ocean with that blouse.” His faded blue eyes sparkle at me.

  “You’re pretty handsome yourself, Mr. Casanova.”

  He releases my wrist and motions for me to lean closer. I smile and put my ear next to his mouth. “If I wasn’t sitting with my wife, I’d ask you to marry me.”

  I chuckle and look over at Doris, who is shaking her head at her husband’s antics. It warms my heart to see the two of them every week. To know that love can really last. That the bond two people share really can make it through the test of time. I had that at one point.

  “Well, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m afraid I’d have to turn down your offer.” I twist the ring on my necklace and stand up then smile at Doris. “You’re a lucky lady.”

  Ed shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

  Biting back the emotion threatening to rise, I wiggle my fingers at them and head back to the kitchen to fill more orders. I get lost in it. I love cooking. It’s in my blood.

  Polly comes back at ten minutes to three and tosses her apron on the counter. “Everyone’s gone.”

  “No sense in staying for ten minutes. You wanna head out?” I ask her, as I finish washing the dishes.

  “Are you sure?”

  I laugh. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

  She smiles and grabs her purse. “Thanks, Rayne. Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  Keeping my hands in dishwater during cleanup has pruned my fingers but I’m used to it. I grab a towel to dry my hands up when the door chimes.

  “Hi,” I say, walking through the swinging doors that separate the kitchen from the dining room. The door hits me on the ass since I’m cemented to the floor. My breath leaves me in a rush, and the man in front of me smirks.

  Longish brown hair, dark brown eyes, a jawline that could cut glass, and a black t-shirt that fits him like a glove, make him the poster boy of sexiness. His jeans are so low on his hips, practically begging someone to tug them off. He runs his fingers through his hair, and the hem of his shirt reveals a flat stomach.

  “Hey.” Even his voice is sexy. Deep. Seductive.

  He chuckles, and I literally shake my head so I can focus. “Can I help you?”

  “I was gonna grab a sandwich, but it looks like you’re closing.” Oh my God, he’s got a bit of a Southern accent.

  “No, it’s fine.” I take a step forward. “What would you like?”

  His eyes unhurriedly trail down my body, and when he stops at my chest, I fight the urge to cross my arms. I clear my throat, and he smirks again and finally looks me in the face. “I’m easy, darlin’. Whatever you can whip up real quick.”

  “Want a soda while you’re waiting?”

  “Nah.” He flips a chair around and straddles it then takes his phone out of his pocket. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

  Before I head to the back, I look at him again then quickly push through the door to make him a club on rye. My hands are unsteady, so I take a breath and pull out the ring I wear on a silver chain, fingering
the gold band. Its texture calms me. The memories soothe my nerves. I tuck the ring back under my shirt and finish making his food.

  When I get back to his table, I hand him the sandwich in a to-go bag. “Here ya go.”

  He looks at the bag in my outstretched hand, licks his lips, and stands. “Kickin’ me out?”

  “What? No. You seemed like you were in a hurry.” I refuse to admit his presence unnerves me. Nobody, ever, has had this effect on me. Admittedly, I close myself off, but this is something else. He’s attractive, that’s all. I can look, right?

  “I was.”

  “And now you’re not?”

  His long fingers wrap around mine still holding the bag, and I inhale at the surprisingly sharp contact, which is a mistake, because his leather and warm spice smell slides in with the tension in the air and makes my knees unsteady.

  “Now, I’m not.” He gently pries the bag from my fingers and sits. I begin to walk away, but he kicks out the chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

  “Oh, um, thanks but I have to—”

  “Sit, babe.”

  Oh, no. I’m not falling for his charm. Just because he’s using an endearment he probably tries on every woman he wants to sleep with doesn’t mean I’m going to be one of them. “Don’t call me that.”

  His brows shoot up. “What’s your name?”

  I cross my arms and hold my ground. I don’t know who this guy thinks he is. He probably has women sitting, lying, or kneeling with just a flash of his perfectly straight teeth. “Rayne.”

  “Rayne.” My name rolls off his tongue. “Beautiful.”

  “You?”

  “Vaughn.”

  “Vaughn?” I repeat for reasons I don’t even know. It’s an unusual but sexy-as-hell name.

  He takes a bite of his club, and being the perpetual hostess that I am, I get him a glass of water. “Thanks,” he mutters between bites. “This is really fuckin’ good.”

  Finally giving in, I plop down on the chair. Customer service and all that. “I know.” I shrug. We’ve won the Best Of award for sandwiches seven years in a row. We’re good at what we do.

  He licks his lips, ridding the special sauce from them. “You’re cute, Rayne.”

  “And you’re trouble.” I know his kind. Cocky. Player. Man whore. The kind of man every woman wants to change. Including me.

  He doesn’t disagree and continues to eat. After shoving the last bite into his mouth, he crumples up the paper and finishes his water. I follow him over to the garbage can and then to the door.

  “Thanks. I was starved.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A moment passes, and the air becomes thicker, the tension tighter. He looks like he wants to say something but shakes his head and opens the door. “See ya later, darlin’.”

  “See ya.”

  I close and lock the door behind him then rest a hand on my heart. This can’t happen. Something like this can never happen. I won’t allow it. I refuse. I’ve kept my word the past two years, and now is not the time to begin wavering.

  When he called me darlin’, I let him. I liked it, even. No, I didn’t. Yes, I did. Damn.

  Bustling around the restaurant, I wipe all the tables, flip the chairs up, and mop the floor. Once done, I close out the drawer, tucking the money in a zippered envelope then grab my purse and head out.

  Since the building is kind of old, I have issues with the door and have to tug pretty hard to engage the lock. I pull hard and turn the key, satisfied when the lock clicks. When I turn around, I run into a wall of muscle and leather.

  “Whoa.” Vaughn’s deep voice penetrates my head as he grips my arms to prevent me from falling.

  “Sorry.” I pull away and straighten myself out. “I didn’t see you.”

  Again, the tension between the couple of feet separating us is almost electrical, and I nibble on the inside of my cheek to give myself something else to focus on.

  “I forgot to pay you.” He tries to hand me some cash, but I shake my head.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Fuck no, it’s not.”

  My eyes widen. “Seriously, it’s all good.”

  “Woman, take the money.”

  “I’ve already closed out the drawer, anyway.” I tuck the envelope farther under my arm. Normally, my parents walk out together with the deposit, especially since we were robbed years ago. I didn’t consider when I let Polly go home early that I’d be walking out of here alone with a bunch of money. Hence, another reason I shouldn’t be left in charge.

  He scoffs at me as if I’m a child. “You walk outta here alone with all that cash?”

  “Um, yeah. I guess.”

  “Not smart, Rayne. You’re asking for some thug to try to mug you or fuckin’ hurt you.”

  I bristle at his comment because I’m stubborn like that and begin to push past him, but he grabs my arm. I attempt to shrug out of his grip, but his hold just tightens.

  “Let me go.”

  He releases me immediately and holds up his hands in surrender. “Relax. I really don’t want you walking out alone, okay? You ain’t gotta worry about me hurtin’ you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Somethin’ I need to change.”

  Instead of fighting him, I relent. “I don’t know what’s going on in your huge head, but whatever you think is going to happen isn’t.”

  “It will.” He doesn’t even hesitate.

  “It won’t.” My resistance is beginning to waver. He might come off cocky, but something in his eyes tells me there’s more. That it’s an act. That behind the darkness is a light fighting to get through.

  “Again, something I need to change.”

  I shrug. He knows nothing about me. If he did, he’d know nothing could happen between us. “There’s nothing to change. I don’t even know you, nor do I want to.”

  “Which is why I’ve got some work to do.”

  “Why?”

  “Still tryin’ to figure that one out, Rayne.” He surprises me when he shifts nervously on his feet for a second. Then he smiles, and his pearly white teeth shine. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  “Whatever.” He follows me, and when I get to my car, I click the key fob and am surprised when he opens my door. Not that I ever thought chivalry was dead, but I just didn’t expect him to entertain the practice. “Thanks,” I mumble as I sit down in the driver’s seat.

  “Can I see your phone?”

  I peer up at him, his body shielding the sun blaring behind him. “What?”

  “I want you to call me when you’re about to leave.”

  “Vaughn, I don’t need—”

  “I work next door to you. It’s not a hardship.”

  “What? It’s still empty.” The place next to me has been vacant for seven months. What used to be a cute antique shop had to close, and I was very sad to see the local business leave the strip mall. The little strip mall also has a bar, a vitamin store, a hair salon, and a mortgage company.

  “Not anymore.”

  “You’re renting it now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Tattoos.”

  As soon as he says it, I laugh. I can’t help it. I even snort once but unsuccessfully try to cover it with a cough.

  His eyebrows rise. “That’s funny to you?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I mean yes, but not why you’re thinking.”

  “Care to fill me in?” The melodic tune of his voice gets a little sharper.

  “My waitress, Polly, and I placed bets on what kind of business would open up, and I was right.”

  “You guessed a tattoo shop?”

  I nod and wipe under my eyes. “But the best part is that I get to pick out her outfit when we go out to celebrate my victory.”

  His face reflects his confusion, and I roll my eyes as I start my car. I’m amused by very little. I suppose that’s par for the course since I don’t have much humor in my life as it i
s. “Never mind. Thank you for walking me to my car.”

  “Any time. And I mean it. I want you to get me when you’re carryin’ around a shit ton of cash.”

  I mumble something in agreement even though I do not intend to do so. Vaughn closes my door, and I wave as I pull away. I stop at the bank, deposit the money, and then go home, where I pick up the phone and call him, leaving a message when his voicemail picks up.

  “Hey, it’s Bryan. I can’t answer because I’m doing something awesome, so leave a message.”

  “Hey, it’s me. So guess what? I won the bet between Polly and me. Some guy is renting the place next door, and he’s a tattoo artist! How funny is that? I’m going to find her a totally obnoxious outfit. She doesn’t know it yet, but I can’t wait to tell her. I’m thinking we’ll go walking around downtown for a bit first, so that way tons of people will see her. Man, she’s gonna hate me. Sooo . . . that’s all that happened today. I smell like onions, so I’m going to take a shower. Talk to ya tomorrow. Love you.”

  Chapter 2

  Rayne

  Years ago, my parents decided to close the restaurant on Saturdays. I thought it was a mistake because that’s a busy day, but it ends up working out somehow. That means on Friday night, I go out, dance, and forget about everything else. I love few things in life. My parents. Cooking. Dancing. And my boyfriend.

  So as I slip my cropped jacket on over my strapless dress, I get giddy with excitement, knowing what’s to come for the evening. My friend Kenny’s engagement party is tonight, too. When the chime on my phone alerts me that my Uber is out front, I grab the gift bag and then lock my door behind me.

  The club isn’t very far from my house, but I’m not about to walk a mile in four-inch heels. I tip the driver and walk to the front of the line, waving at the bouncer, Tiny, as I walk through the door to Complexity.

  Techno music shakes the walls, and I squint through the dimly lit bar. Hints of every color of the rainbow flash as I walk through, the multicolored disco lights reflecting off the mirrored walls. I grip one of the black leather couches as I let a couple pass, and when I finally reach Kennedy, he squeals. “Hey, girl!” Oh yeah, he’s on my list of things I love, too. And his fiancé, by default. I love them for standing by me and supporting me and being my rocks over the past couple of years.