Hi Everyone,

I’m sure that you all had a wonderful holiday with your family.  And I can’t believe that the next holiday is only a couple of weeks away!  There is soooo much to do.  But it does involve one of the things I love…shopping!  I admit it.  I love shopping so much I don’t care who I’m shopping for. 

But…I do notice that when I am shopping for others I always seem to find the most incredible deals for myself.  Am I the only one that happens to???

I hope that you are enjoying Choices.

I’ll let you get straight to the action.

Hi Everyone,

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. It’s great to spend time with family that live far away.

I also, hope that you are enjoying my blog book, Choices.

Chapter 9

“I don’t want you seeing that boy any more.”

            Harlan Westfall’s white hair glinted in the sunlight pouring in from the picture window behind him.  Book cases lined the walls filled with leather bound books.  His cherry desk was massive and littered with several stacks of files.  She had always hated this room.  It was the room where her father hid from his family.   

Her eyebrows furrowed together, her hands perched on her hips.  “I’ll date who I want,” she replied indignantly.

“The hell you will,” he yelled.  “I’ll not have my daughter parading around town with trash!”

She leaned over, her palms falling flat on his desk.  “Jackson Hart is not trash!”

He flew out of his chair, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers.  A blood vessel pounded at his temple, his face red with anger.  “That boy is the very definition of it, and you would be wise to remember my words.  Just because your mother died, it doesn’t mean you can run around town doing whatever you want.  Despite your best attempts to ruin yourself and this family, you will do as I say or you will be sorry.”

She spun on her heel, throwing the door open with such force it flew into the wall with an audible slam.  Running up the staircase, she did her best to hold in the tears that threatened to fall.  She hated him!  Every bit of compassion he ever possessed had died the day her mother was placed in the ground.  He was a machine, relentlessly tossing out orders without any concern for the people he crushed in his path.  As she rounded the corner, she collided with Curtis.  His hands came up to steady her, but she brushed them away in disgust. 

“You really did it, didn’t you?” she bit out angrily.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he barked.

“You told Daddy about the barbeque,” she accused.

He laughed, as he shook his head in aggravation.  “You really are stupid.  Did you think you could broadcast your little fling all over town and Daddy wouldn’t find out?”  He glanced up at the ceiling.  “God, sometimes I wonder how we could be related.”

“Get out of my way, Curtis.” 

She shoved past him to run into her room, slamming the door behind her.   She hated him.  Why she had been cursed with such a horrible brother, she would never know?  Ever since her mother died, everything had fallen apart.  Both her Daddy and Curtis thought they could tell her what to do.  Without her mother’s calm intervention, she was left alone to fight them by herself.  Still, she would not let them tell her who she could spend her time with.  It was her right to make that decision.  She threw herself across the bed, reaching for the phone on the nightstand.  If her Daddy thought that he could keep her away from Jackson, he was wrong. 

And she knew just how to get around his ridiculous request.

“I don’t know about this,” Leah balked, as she eased the car through the gate to turn onto the highway.

“I’m telling you it will be fine,” Mallory chided.

“If your daddy finds out that I took you to see Jackson Hart, it won’t be,” she warned, her eyes focused on the road ahead.

“He’ll never find out, Leah,” she assured, as she pulled the visor down to reapply her makeup in the mirror.

Leah shook her head.  “Well, we had better enjoy this little moment, because if your daddy tells my parents, I’ll be grounded for the next month.”

A quick glance let her know that the barn was coming into view over the hill.  She quickly dabbed her lips with lip gloss, as Leah pulled the car around to the back so they wouldn’t be seen.  Jackson’s motorcycle was already there, alerting her to the fact that he was waiting inside.  Her entire body hummed with excitement.  When Mallory grabbed the door handle, Leah put a restraining hand on her arm.

“Just answer this for me,” she prodded.

“What?”

“Is he really worth all of this?”

Mallory’s gaze traveled to the barn, before returning to meet her friend’s concerned stare.  “Yes.”

Leah gave her a quick nod.  “Okay, then I’ll be back in two hours.”

She watched Leah pull away.  Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the barn.  Jackson leaned against the side of a stall, a billow of smoke forming a cloud over his head, his cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“Hi,” she said nervously.  “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

Jackson tossed his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with his foot.  “I probably shouldn’t have,” he admitted ruefully.

She crossed the distance, needing to feel close to him.  “Why?” she asked.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth tilting up.  “I’m not sure about your motives.”

Taking a step closer to him, her gaze met his.  “I don’t have any motives.”

He chuckled.  “Oh, I think you do.  I just wish I knew what they were.”

“I just wanted to see you.  Can’t it be that simple?” she inquired softly.

“I wish it was that simple,” he murmured, his hand coming up to trace the side of her cheek.

She leaned into him, pressing her body against his.  In all of the times she had spent with fumbling boys, she had never felt anything like the way she felt when she was with Jackson.  When her hands traced the muscles of his chest, his finger tilted her chin up to face him. 

“You know that this isn’t a good idea…for either of us,” he warned, his voice almost a whisper.

“I just want to be with you,” she vowed earnestly.

“I almost believe you.”

Before she could question the meaning of his words, he led her into a stall.  He grabbed an old blanket from the side, shaking it out before spreading it across the floor.  Excitement flared through her body.  Still, she couldn’t help but feel a moment of indecision.  She had heard enough stories to know that Jackson Hart knew what he was doing when it came to women. 

Would he expect her to be more experienced?

Would he be disappointed in her?

All questions vanished when his body covered hers and his mouth moved over hers.  Her fingers blazed trails through his hair.  When he held her like this, she could block out the world.  His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, and she answered the request.  Their tongues touched playfully, before tangling with each other.  Soon, kissing was not enough.  She wanted to feel him everywhere.  Her fingers nervously pulled at the buttons on his shirt.  Pushing the fabric over his shoulders, her hands burned as it touched his bare skin. 

His mouth traveled to her neck, reaching higher to taste the sensitive hollow of her ear.  A delicious shiver raced up her spine.  Still, she wanted more.  Her hands traced the bunched muscles of his shoulders, the hard planes of his chest, the sensitive skin of his stomach.  He rose up on one elbow, pulling at the buttons of her shirt until it fell open.  Sliding the straps of her bra to her forearms, his mouth blazed a trail of fire across her collarbone.  When his head dipped lower, she thought she would surely go insane. 

“Jackson,” she murmured softly, unable to find the words to voice her request.

But he understood what she wanted all too well.  He also knew that he was slowly losing control.  When he began this, he had only thought he would kiss her a little bit.  But they were past kissing now, and he couldn’t find the strength to stop.  He wanted to taste her, wanted to feel her body against his without the barrier of clothing.  Pushing her bra up, his tongue slid over her nipple.  Sweet heaven…that’s what she tasted like.  Nothing had ever tasted so sweet, or would again he feared.  At her moan, he pushed the bra to her waist baring her to his view.  He took full advantage of the moment, gazing upon her bare breasts.  Her eyelids fluttered open at his hesitancy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his tongue circling her nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

She clutched his head to her breast, holding him in place.  His lower body pressed against her.  He knew she could feel his arousal.  He wanted her to know just how much he wanted her.  His hand reached down to stroke her leg, causing her knee to rise up in silent acknowledgement.  His hand traced the delicate skin of her inner thigh before sliding lower, his mouth never leaving hers.  When his hand cupped her, she moaned.  Her hips moved of their own volition against his hand, practically begging for more. 

When his hand slid beneath the elastic barrier of her panties, she clutched him tightly.  One finger parted her folds, before slipping inside.  She gasped softly.  He withdrew his finger only to drive it inside again.  He angled his body higher, his mouth closing over hers as his hand continued it maddening rhythm.  His tongue delved into her mouth at the same time that his finger entered her body.

Jackson could feel her body tighten around him.  She was so tight and wet.  He wanted nothing more than to drive himself inside of her right now.  But it was too soon.  The feel of her body clutching his finger made him squeeze his eyes tightly shut.  God, he wanted her.  He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other girl.  He could spend all day in this barn inside her body.  Her deep breaths alerted him that she was close.  She cried out his name into the stillness of the barn, as her climax ran down his hand.   Listening as she caught her breath, he kissed her tenderly.  Rising  up on his elbows, he watched the emotions pass through her eyes. 

She stared up at him, her eyes wide.  “I never knew…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, kissing the line of her jaw.  He righted her skirt and blouse, removing temptation from his sight. 

“But you didn’t…we didn’t…” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Another time,” he assured. 

And he knew there would be. 

Despite his best attempts to stop them both from making a huge mistake, this was going to happen.  One taste had only served to give him a raging appetite, and it was an appetite that would have to be fulfilled. 

One way or another, he would have Mallory Westfall.

And God help them all when he did.

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I just got fantastic news! The Pleasure of Sin is a finalist in the EPPIE Awards I’m so excited I could burst!

I’m also in the process of finishing the third book in the Club X series. This will be Cal’s story. I know a lot of you have been waiting to hear about him, and trust me he has a lot to say

I hope you are enjoying Choices! Mallory is about to invade Jackson’s world…

Excerpt 8

Jackson walked through the living room to the kitchen, tossing his keys across the counter top.  “I still don’t feel good about leaving my bike,” he observed.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she assured evenly.

 Slowly, she trailed behind him, closing the screen door behind her.  Looking around, she couldn’t help but note how different Jackson’s house was from her own.  This was a real home.  It was comfortable, lived in.  It let people know that they could come in and settle for the night.  Her house was cold, like her family since her mother’s death.  Taking a few steps forward, she spotted a small antique wood-burning fireplace.  She inhaled deeply, wanting to savor the feeling.  It felt good to be here in a real home, not some plastic-wrapped version of it. 

“Want something to drink?” he asked, one arm draped over the open refrigerator door. 

“Sure,” she answered.

“You have a wide selection of iced tea, milk or tap water to choose from.”

Her laughter filled the silence between them.  “Tea is fine.”

While Jackson busied himself making the drinks, she looked around the room taking in the small details of his life.  Family photos were strategically placed on the walls.  She smiled at a picture of Jackson when he was just a boy.  He held a fish that looked almost as tall as he was.  A wide grin on his face revealed two missing front teeth.  As her gaze traveled around the room, she spotted a piano in the back by the windows.  Walking over to it, she noticed the stacks of unopened mail that cluttered the top.  It had been a long time since this piano had been given time to stretch.  She allowed her fingers to trail along the dusty keyboard.  Closing her eyes, she envisioned sitting here, playing a melody as she watched the trees sway. 

“It’s my mom’s,” Jackson remarked, startling her with his nearness.  He handed her a mason jar filled with iced tea.

“You don’t play?” she asked, taking a sip.

He shook his head.  “No, she tried.  Even gave me lessons, but music just wasn’t my thing.  I guess that means I’ll never be in a band, huh?” he joked.

“How is your side?” she inquired.

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I’ll live.”

“I still can’t believe Curtis,” she admitted.

“He’s entitled.  You’re his sister.”

She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes.  “He’s a jerk.”

His grin took her breath away.  “I can’t say I don’t agree with that.”

Mallory took another sip, as she gathered her resolve.  If she wanted answers, it was now or never.  “So, do you really like Cherie Brightwater?”

He looked out the window.  “She’s okay,” he hedged.

“No, she’s not.  She’s easy,” she bit back, her temper rising.

“Maybe that’s what I like,” he challenged noncommittally.

“Do you?”

Taking a deep breath, he knew that he couldn’t tell her the truth, the real truth.  He didn’t give a damn about Cherie Brightwater, but telling Mallory that would only encourage her more.  And, if he was smart, that was something he knew he shouldn’t do.  Her mouth fell open, inviting him to take what he wanted. 

And he did want it. 

No matter how much he lied to himself.   

He set his glass on top of the piano, taking a step toward her.  Hell, he was already being blamed for it. The whole town already thought there was something going on.

 So, what was stopping him? 

Honor? 

He had never had much of that anyway.  Even if he did, this town would never see it. 

Why not give them what they wanted and take what he needed?

His hands slid around her waist, and he pulled her against him taking her mouth. Her lips met his, opening automatically at his touch.  His tongue played with hers, teasing her.  She let out an impatient moan, as her hands tangled in his hair.  His hand crept up to close around her breast, causing her to gasp in his mouth. 

He felt her nipple harden beneath his skilled hand, her body’s instinctive way of crying out for more.  Her hands moved over his chest, sliding over his stomach as if she couldn’t get enough.  Unsatisfied, her hands slid under his shirt causing a low growl to escape his mouth. 

The faint sound of a car in the distance should’ve alerted them, but they didn’t hear anything but the sounds of their own hearts beating.  He couldn’t get enough of her.  His hand slid under her shirt to travel over the skin of her stomach.  It was the smoothest skin he had ever felt.  When he reached the underside of her bra, footsteps on the porch jolted them apart.

“Jackson,” his mother called out.

He ran a hand through his hair, as he tried to keep his racing heart in the confines of his chest.  “In here, mom,” he returned, his voice still husky.

The screen door opened, and Myrna Hart’s eyes widened.  “I didn’t know that you were bringing company home,” she stuttered.

“Neither did I.  Mom, this is Mallory Westfall.  Mallory, my mom, Myrna Hart.”

His mother’s mouth fell open at the introduction.  It wasn’t every day that Myrna Hart had a Westfall in her home.  Jackson could tell by his mother’s shocked expression that she too was questioning his sanity. 

After what just happened, he didn’t blame her. 

“Westfall,” she mouthed.

Mallory crossed the room to hold out her hand.  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hart,” she said.

Recovering from her shock, he watched his mother take Mallory’s hand in hers, offering her a warm smile.  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mallory.”  She put her purse down on the couch.  “I’m sorry if I seem surprised, but Jackson rarely has anyone over.  Would you like to stay for dinner?” 

“I’d love to.”

All throughout dinner, his mother watched him.  He knew what she was thinking.  She was thinking that he was crazy, and right now he was thinking the same thing.

After dinner, he walked Mallory out to her car. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Hart,” she called out over her shoulder. 

“Any time, dear.”

Jackson followed behind her, his hands in his pockets.  This was getting out of hand.  If he didn’t stop this soon, he would be in all the way.  Hell, maybe it was already too late to back out.  Watching her with his mother had created an odd tightening in his chest that he wasn’t too eager to explore.  He supposed it was fitting that the one girl that created these strange feelings was the one girl he wasn’t supposed to have.

She turned to face him when she reached the car.  “I had fun tonight.”

He nodded.  “Mom puts on a pretty good spread.”

“Well, I guess I should get home,” she said, clearly stalling.

She closed the distance between them, obviously done waiting for him to make the first move.  Standing on her tiptoes, she placed her lips against his, one hand on his chest to steady her.  He tried to remain still, tried to remain unaffected by her, but he could feel his body tighten and shift.  When her tongue snaked out to trail along his upper lip, he groaned pulling her against him as he angled his head to deepen the kiss.  Her arms entwined around his neck as she pressed herself firmly against him.  His tongue mated with hers, causing her to moan softly.  When he pulled away, she frowned. 

“This isn’t a good idea,” he explained, his forehead resting against hers.

“I don’t care what people think,” she replied indignantly.

“You should.”

“I just want to be with you, Jackson.  Don’t you want to be with me?”

He did.

That was the hell of it. 

He sighed heavily.  He knew what he should say, but the words just wouldn’t come out.  A part of him had already committed to this, and turning back now wasn’t going to solve his problems. 

He wanted her, and she wanted him.

 And that was all he needed right now.

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I had a fantastic time at the signing yesterday at Altamonte Mall. I was so excited to see so many familiar faces

Now, it’s back to work on the third book in the Club X series. You’ll be happy to hear that this will be Cal’s book Cal has a pretty big secret and it is about to come back to haunt him.

I hope you are enjoying Choices. Have a great week!

Excerpt 7

The next day at school, Mallory couldn’t help but look for him everywhere she went.  At lunch, she finally spotted him across the cafeteria.  To her dismay, he was sitting with Cherie Brightwater.  She paused for a minute, her tray in hand, as she watched Cherie lean across the table to put her hand on Jackson’s arm. 

“Mallory, did you forget where we normally sit?” Leah asked sarcastically, coming up behind her.

She followed Leah to the table, barely seeing anything as she took a seat across from her.  What could he possibly see in Cherie Brightwater?  She wasn’t even that pretty!  Sure, she had a reputation for going all the way, but he saw through that.  Didn’t he? Leah continued to chat animatedly about her latest science experiment debacle, but all she could do was steal glances at the pair across the room.  She felt like a fool.  After last weekend, she thought…well, she didn’t know what she thought. 

But she certainly didn’t expect this! 

“So, Mr. Keller tells me that if one more thing blows up in his classroom, he’s going to fail me.  And, I’m like I never said I was a science genius!”  Leah paused to take a bite of her hamburger.  When she looked up, she asked, “Have you even heard anything I said?”

Her head snapped around.  “What?  Of course, I did.  Mr. Keller is a jerk.  No big news there.  No one likes him.”

Leah’s gaze drifted to the couple on the other side of the room.  “Isn’t that your date?”

Mallory glanced over nonchalantly.  “He was just my date for the barbeque.  It was nothing serious,” she refuted.

Leah’s eyebrows rose, as she shook her head.  “Well, it looks like it might be serious with Cherie Brightwater.  How long do you give her before she climbs over the table and sits on his lap?”

She turned her head to see Cherie Brightwater lean across the table to kiss Jackson.  On the mouth!  Her temper began to boil, and even though she told herself she had no claim on him, she could barely stop herself from running over and slapping the other girl. 

Why was he doing this? 

“I hadn’t noticed,” she dismissed.

Leah let out a sarcastic laugh.  “Yeah right!  And I actually like science! Why don’t you give him a dose of his own medicine?”

Giving Leah a quick nod, she stood up.  “You’re right.”

Walking over to Derrick, she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and leaned into him.  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered seductively into his ear.

His surprise was evident.  “You have?”

She leaned in closer, her mouth next to his ear.  “You know I miss you when you’re gone.”

His hands came up to imprison hers around him.  “Well, I guess we will have to fix that.  Do you want to get together after school?”

“I can’t wait,” she said, turning to place a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll give you a ride home.  Meet me in the parking lot,” he instructed firmly.

“Sounds good,” she replied, leaning in to press another kiss on his cheek.  To her surprise, he turned giving her his mouth as his hand held her head.  His friends began to hoot and holler as he prolonged the kiss.  Finally, he let her go giving the other occupants of the table a satisfied grin.

Stumbling back to the table, she tried to ignore Leah’s amused look. 

“That certainly went a little farther than planned,” Leah observed, shaking her head.

She couldn’t bring herself to look around the room after what had just happened.  “Did he even see us?”

Her friend offered her a sad smile.  “Oh, he saw all right.”

“And?”

Her lips formed a grim line.  “And then, he left.”

Mallory’s head whipped around to see Cherie Brightwater sitting with her friends.  Jackson was nowhere in sight.  “Where did he go?”

“Out the back door,” Leah offered, taking another bite of her sandwich.

She grabbed her purse and books.  “I need to run to my locker before class.  I’ll see you later.”

She walked out the back door following the sidewalk that led to the area most of the kids called “the smoker’s wall.”  There he was.  A thin veil of smoke hovered over him as he leaned against the building.  When he saw her coming, he quickly looked the other way.  She squared her shoulders, as she began to walk past him.  Realizing that he had no intention of stopping her, she spun on her heel to confront him.

“You know, you could do better than Cherie Brightwater.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, as he took a long drag of his cigarette.  “Thanks, I’ll take that under advisement.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted.

He pushed off the wall, dropping his cigarette on the ground.  “It means I don’t need advice from you on who to date, considering…”

Her eyes narrowed.  “Considering?”

 “Considering your current tastes,” he explained.

“Is that why you left?  Because you didn’t want to see me with Derrick,” she prodded.

“It didn’t look like you needed a bigger audience,” he bit back trying to push past her, but she grabbed his arm. 

“Why are you doing this, Jackson?”

His eyebrows rose.  “Doing what?”

Her gaze lowered.  “I thought that we…”

He looked down at the hand that restrained him.  “Look Mallory, I don’t know what you think happened this weekend, but whatever it was, it’s over.”

His words were cruel, meant to cut.  And they did.  She felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest.  Why was he acting this way?  What had she done wrong?  She wanted to scream at him, hit him, but none of those things would make her feel better and she knew it.  Had she been wrong about him?  Had she completely misjudged him? 

A single tear slid down her cheek, making him feel like the biggest ass in the world.  All day he told himself that he had to do this, even if he didn’t want to.  The die was cast.  It wouldn’t do any good to start something they couldn’t finish.  Still, as he looked into her wounded eyes, he wanted to pull her against him.  Seeing her with Lange made him crazy.  If he hadn’t left when he did, he would’ve made an even bigger mess by beating the other boy to a pulp.  

He reached out to wipe the tear away, causing her to look up.  Her mouth fell open inviting him to break every promise he had made to himself this weekend. 

God, he wanted to. 

His head began to descend toward hers. 

“Hey Hart, you want to take your hands off my sister!” Curtis yelled, as he and his friends walked over to the pair.

Jackson turned to face him as several of the boys crowded around him pushing Mallory to the side.  Before he could get to her, one of them grabbed him from behind pinning his arms behind his back. 

“Get your hands off her!” he bit out, as Mallory struggled against one of the boys.

Curtis stood in front of him, his brown hair slightly ruffled.  “She’s my sister, Hart.  I’ll say who touches her and who doesn’t,” he added with a sneer.

Wrestling one of his arms free, he tried to turn, but another boy grabbed him.  He tried to move, but with two of them holding him, he didn’t make much progress.  His gaze flew to Mallory, who was fighting against the boy holding her. 

“Curtis, make him let me go!  You can’t tell me what to do.  You’re not Daddy!”

Curtis glanced over at her shaking his head.  “It’s a good thing Daddy isn’t here to see this or you would be in bigger trouble than you already are.  Did you think I wouldn’t find out about the Buchman’s party? What the hell were you thinking?”

“It’s none of your business,” she retorted.

“I think it is when my sister decides to take up with the town scum,” he bit back.  “Hold her, and shut her up!”

At his instruction, the other boy covered Mallory’s mouth.  Curtis turned his attention back to Jackson.  “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Jackson saw the fear in her eyes and knew he had to do something…quick.  “Why don’t you fight me like a real man?  Or is this the only way you can win?”

Curtis’s eyes narrowed.  “Shut up, Hart!” 

He threw the first punch.  It connected with Jackson’s abdomen, and he winced as pain shot through his stomach.

“Real men don’t need two guys to hold me back!  A real man would take me on himself!”

Another punch landed on his chin snapping his head to the side and causing his jaw to throb painfully. 

“Chicken shit!” Jackson muttered, despite the pleading he saw in Mallory’s eyes for him to stop.

The next punch landed in his ribs.  His head fell forward at the intensity of the pain.  The other two boys were supporting most of his weight now. 

Curtis snorted.  “Let him go,” he instructed.

When they released him, he barreled into Curtis, both of them falling to the ground.  They wrestled.  Jackson threw several punches making Curtis grunt in pain.  Several of the boys pulled Jackson off him, throwing him to the ground as they kicked him in his already-injured side.  He was able to grab the legs of several of the boys making them stumble and fall, but there were too many.  Then, as quickly as it started, it was over, and Jackson was left on the grass alone.

Mallory ran over to him, her hands caressing him.  “Jackson, are you okay?”

He slowly got to his feet trying not to show the pain that sliced through his entire body.  “I’m fine,” he mustered.

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently, a worried look marring her perfect face.

Stumbling over to the wall, he placed a hand on it for support.  “Sorry that I got hurt?  Or sorry that he is your brother?”

“Both,” she admitted sincerely.

At that, he smiled.  “It’s okay.  We can’t pick our family.”

“If I could, I would return him,” she confessed ruefully.

He laughed, the motion making him grimace at the slice of pain it caused.  “Don’t worry, Mal.  I’ll live,” he assured.

Her hand came out to stroke his arm.  “At least let me give you a ride home.”

He gripped his side, as he tried to ignore the tenderness he found there.  Before he knew what she was doing, she grabbed his arm sliding it around her shoulders to help him shift his weight.  When he started to protest, she looked up at him to shake her head. 

“You can’t be a tough guy all the time,” she chided.

Unable to fight any longer, he allowed her to help him into her car.  Somehow, his plan had gotten way off track today.  As he watched her navigate through the city streets, he realized that he would not be able to discard her as easily as he thought.  Pushing someone like Mallory Westfall away was not a task he would accomplish without effort.  When she made up her mind about something, she didn’t give up. 

“I can’t believe Curtis did that,” she muttered, her fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“I can,” he replied.

“I hate him.  He is such a jerk.”

“No arguments there, but he’s still your brother,” he reasoned.  “Turn right up ahead.”

Pulling onto the small dirt road, they drove past a small abandoned fruit stand to the right.  Despite the advertisements of watermelon and cantaloupe, it was bare today.  “You’re going to turn left at that entrance between the trees,” he explained, pointing to a small opening.

Mallory followed the road around a curve.  Corn fields flanked the path.  When they rounded the bend, the cabins came into view.  “Ours is the one with the blue shutters just up ahead,” he instructed, his expression blank. 

Pulling her car over to the side, she shifted into park.  He quickly climbed out leaving her to trail behind him as he climbed the steps.  He could only imagine what she was thinking.  The cabin was a far cry from the Westfall estate. 

“Well, thanks,” he said, in an effort to dismiss her.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked expectantly.

He let out a long sigh.  He didn’t want to invite her in, didn’t want to spend any more time with her, when he knew what the ultimate outcome would be.  Still, his mother had not raised him to be rude. 

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, as he pulled open the door.       

Mallory Westfall was about to invade his world, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween!  It was fun to see all of the spooky costumes.

If you are in the area next week, please make sure to stop by and see me.  I will be at the Altamonte Mall in Altamonte Springs signing copies of Den of Desire and The Pleasure of Sin on Saturday November 7th, from 2-5.  I would love to see you there!

Have a great week,

Shauna

www.shaunahart.com

Excerpt 7

The next day at school, Mallory couldn’t help but look for him everywhere she went.  At lunch, she finally spotted him across the cafeteria.  To her dismay, he was sitting with Cherie Brightwater.  She paused for a minute, her tray in hand, as she watched Cherie lean across the table to put her hand on Jackson’s arm.   

“Mallory, did you forget where we normally sit?” Leah asked sarcastically, coming up behind her.

She followed Leah to the table, barely seeing anything as she took a seat across from her.  What could he possibly see in Cherie Brightwater?  She wasn’t even that pretty!  Sure, she had a reputation for going all the way, but he saw through that.  Didn’t he? Leah continued to chat animatedly about her latest science experiment debacle, but all she could do was steal glances at the pair across the room.  She felt like a fool.  After last weekend, she thought…well, she didn’t know what she thought. 

But she certainly didn’t expect this! 

“So, Mr. Keller tells me that if one more thing blows up in his classroom, he’s going to fail me.  And, I’m like I never said I was a science genius!”  Leah paused to take a bite of her hamburger.  When she looked up, she asked, “Have you even heard anything I said?”

Her head snapped around.  “What?  Of course, I did.  Mr. Keller is a jerk.  No big news there.  No one likes him.”

Leah’s gaze drifted to the couple on the other side of the room.  “Isn’t that your date?”

Mallory glanced over nonchalantly.  “He was just my date for the barbeque.  It was nothing serious,” she refuted.

Leah’s eyebrows rose, as she shook her head.  “Well, it looks like it might be serious with Cherie Brightwater.  How long do you give her before she climbs over the table and sits on his lap?”

She turned her head to see Cherie Brightwater lean across the table to kiss Jackson.  On the mouth!  Her temper began to boil, and even though she told herself she had no claim on him, she could barely stop herself from running over and slapping the other girl. 

Why was he doing this? 

“I hadn’t noticed,” she dismissed.

Leah let out a sarcastic laugh.  “Yeah right!  And I actually like science! Why don’t you give him a dose of his own medicine?”

Giving Leah a quick nod, she stood up.  “You’re right.”

Walking over to Derrick, she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and leaned into him.  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered seductively into his ear.

His surprise was evident.  “You have?”

She leaned in closer, her mouth next to his ear.  “You know I miss you when you’re gone.”

His hands came up to imprison hers around him.  “Well, I guess we will have to fix that.  Do you want to get together after school?”

“I can’t wait,” she said, turning to place a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll give you a ride home.  Meet me in the parking lot,” he instructed firmly.

“Sounds good,” she replied, leaning in to press another kiss on his cheek.  To her surprise, he turned giving her his mouth as his hand held her head.  His friends began to hoot and holler as he prolonged the kiss.  Finally, he let her go giving the other occupants of the table a satisfied grin.

Stumbling back to the table, she tried to ignore Leah’s amused look. 

“That certainly went a little farther than planned,” Leah observed, shaking her head.

She couldn’t bring herself to look around the room after what had just happened.  “Did he even see us?”

Her friend offered her a sad smile.  “Oh, he saw all right.”

“And?”

Her lips formed a grim line.  “And then, he left.”

Mallory’s head whipped around to see Cherie Brightwater sitting with her friends.  Jackson was nowhere in sight.  “Where did he go?”

“Out the back door,” Leah offered, taking another bite of her sandwich.

She grabbed her purse and books.  “I need to run to my locker before class.  I’ll see you later.”

She walked out the back door following the sidewalk that led to the area most of the kids called “the smoker’s wall.”  There he was.  A thin veil of smoke hovered over him as he leaned against the building.  When he saw her coming, he quickly looked the other way.  She squared her shoulders, as she began to walk past him.  Realizing that he had no intention of stopping her, she spun on her heel to confront him.

“You know, you could do better than Cherie Brightwater.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, as he took a long drag of his cigarette.  “Thanks, I’ll take that under advisement.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted.

He pushed off the wall, dropping his cigarette on the ground.  “It means I don’t need advice from you on who to date, considering…”

Her eyes narrowed.  “Considering?”

 “Considering your current tastes,” he explained.

“Is that why you left?  Because you didn’t want to see me with Derrick,” she prodded.

“It didn’t look like you needed a bigger audience,” he bit back trying to push past her, but she grabbed his arm. 

“Why are you doing this, Jackson?”

His eyebrows rose.  “Doing what?”

Her gaze lowered.  “I thought that we…”

He looked down at the hand that restrained him.  “Look Mallory, I don’t know what you think happened this weekend, but whatever it was, it’s over.”

His words were cruel, meant to cut.  And they did.  She felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest.  Why was he acting this way?  What had she done wrong?  She wanted to scream at him, hit him, but none of those things would make her feel better and she knew it.  Had she been wrong about him?  Had she completely misjudged him? 

A single tear slid down her cheek, making him feel like the biggest ass in the world.  All day he told himself that he had to do this, even if he didn’t want to.  The die was cast.  It wouldn’t do any good to start something they couldn’t finish.  Still, as he looked into her wounded eyes, he wanted to pull her against him.  Seeing her with Lange made him crazy.  If he hadn’t left when he did, he would’ve made an even bigger mess by beating the other boy to a pulp.  

He reached out to wipe the tear away, causing her to look up.  Her mouth fell open inviting him to break every promise he had made to himself this weekend. 

God, he wanted to. 

His head began to descend toward hers. 

“Hey Hart, you want to take your hands off my sister!” Curtis yelled, as he and his friends walked over to the pair.

Jackson turned to face him as several of the boys crowded around him pushing Mallory to the side.  Before he could get to her, one of them grabbed him from behind pinning his arms behind his back. 

“Get your hands off her!” he bit out, as Mallory struggled against one of the boys.

Curtis stood in front of him, his brown hair slightly ruffled.  “She’s my sister, Hart.  I’ll say who touches her and who doesn’t,” he added with a sneer.

Wrestling one of his arms free, he tried to turn, but another boy grabbed him.  He tried to move, but with two of them holding him, he didn’t make much progress.  His gaze flew to Mallory, who was fighting against the boy holding her. 

“Curtis, make him let me go!  You can’t tell me what to do.  You’re not Daddy!”

Curtis glanced over at her shaking his head.  “It’s a good thing Daddy isn’t here to see this or you would be in bigger trouble than you already are.  Did you think I wouldn’t find out about the Buchman’s party? What the hell were you thinking?”

“It’s none of your business,” she retorted.

“I think it is when my sister decides to take up with the town scum,” he bit back.  “Hold her, and shut her up!”

At his instruction, the other boy covered Mallory’s mouth.  Curtis turned his attention back to Jackson.  “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Jackson saw the fear in her eyes and knew he had to do something…quick.  “Why don’t you fight me like a real man?  Or is this the only way you can win?”

Curtis’s eyes narrowed.  “Shut up, Hart!” 

He threw the first punch.  It connected with Jackson’s abdomen, and he winced as pain shot through his stomach.

“Real men don’t need two guys to hold me back!  A real man would take me on himself!”

Another punch landed on his chin snapping his head to the side and causing his jaw to throb painfully. 

“Chicken shit!” Jackson muttered, despite the pleading he saw in Mallory’s eyes for him to stop.

The next punch landed in his ribs.  His head fell forward at the intensity of the pain.  The other two boys were supporting most of his weight now. 

Curtis snorted.  “Let him go,” he instructed.

When they released him, he barreled into Curtis, both of them falling to the ground.  They wrestled.  Jackson threw several punches making Curtis grunt in pain.  Several of the boys pulled Jackson off him, throwing him to the ground as they kicked him in his already-injured side.  He was able to grab the legs of several of the boys making them stumble and fall, but there were too many.  Then, as quickly as it started, it was over, and Jackson was left on the grass alone.

Mallory ran over to him, her hands caressing him.  “Jackson, are you okay?”

He slowly got to his feet trying not to show the pain that sliced through his entire body.  “I’m fine,” he mustered.

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently, a worried look marring her perfect face.

Stumbling over to the wall, he placed a hand on it for support.  “Sorry that I got hurt?  Or sorry that he is your brother?”

“Both,” she admitted sincerely.

At that, he smiled.  “It’s okay.  We can’t pick our family.”

“If I could, I would return him,” she confessed ruefully.

He laughed, the motion making him grimace at the slice of pain it caused.  “Don’t worry, Mal.  I’ll live,” he assured.

Her hand came out to stroke his arm.  “At least let me give you a ride home.”

He gripped his side, as he tried to ignore the tenderness he found there.  Before he knew what she was doing, she grabbed his arm sliding it around her shoulders to help him shift his weight.  When he started to protest, she looked up at him to shake her head. 

“You can’t be a tough guy all the time,” she chided.

Unable to fight any longer, he allowed her to help him into her car.  Somehow, his plan had gotten way off track today.  As he watched her navigate through the city streets, he realized that he would not be able to discard her as easily as he thought.  Pushing someone like Mallory Westfall away was not a task he would accomplish without effort.  When she made up her mind about something, she didn’t give up. 

“I can’t believe Curtis did that,” she muttered, her fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“I can,” he replied.

“I hate him.  He is such a jerk.”

“No arguments there, but he’s still your brother,” he reasoned.  “Turn right up ahead.”

Pulling onto the small dirt road, they drove past a small abandoned fruit stand to the right.  Despite the advertisements of watermelon and cantaloupe, it was bare today.  “You’re going to turn left at that entrance between the trees,” he explained, pointing to a small opening.

Mallory followed the road around a curve.  Corn fields flanked the path.  When they rounded the bend, the cabins came into view.  “Ours is the one with the blue shutters just up ahead,” he instructed, his expression blank. 

Pulling her car over to the side, she shifted into park.  He quickly climbed out leaving her to trail behind him as he climbed the steps.  He could only imagine what she was thinking.  The cabin was a far cry from the Westfall estate. 

“Well, thanks,” he said, in an effort to dismiss her.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked expectantly.

He let out a long sigh.  He didn’t want to invite her in, didn’t want to spend any more time with her, when he knew what the ultimate outcome would be.  Still, his mother had not raised him to be rude. 

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, as he pulled open the door.       

Mallory Westfall was about to invade his world, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Stay tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I hope that you are all enjoying Choices. Jackson is one of my favorite characters. Hopefully, you all feel the same way.

As for what I’m reading, I just finished Shiver by Maggie Stievwater! It is about werewolves. If you are a Team Jacob fan, I highly suggest that you pick it up. You will not be disappointed. Now, I am reading The Perfect Liar by Brenda Novak and I can’t put it down.

I hope you all have a great week

Chapter 6

What the hell was he doing here? 

            Jackson pulled his bike to a stop beside the outer gates of the Westfall estate.  This was a big mistake, and he knew it.  He felt like an idiot for going along with this ridiculous plot of hers.  Agreeing to meet her outside the gate was a sure sign that things were not on the up and up.  It made her plan to capture a “big surprise” all the more obvious. 

            So, why was he still here? 

Was he fueled by some perverse curiosity to see where this hatched scheme would end? 

            Definitely.

            He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket sliding one into the crook of his mouth.  Bending over to light it, he inhaled deeply.   

            If he had any sense, he would stand her up. 

            A wicked grin took hold of his mouth at the thought of her face when she realized that she had been left waiting.  It would serve her right for coming up with such a cruel prank.  Just as he was about to leave, she appeared between the bars.  The gate squeaked as she closed it behind her, before walking over to stand beside him.  Her auburn hair was pulled in a tight ponytail.  Long legs were revealed by her pink miniskirt.  His hands twitched involuntarily with the need to travel their length.  The outline of her breasts was visible through her white shirt.  The strings to her blue bikini top peaked out of the collar.  He repositioned himself on the seat as he felt a familiar hardening. 

            “Are you ready?” she asked, her eyes bright with mischief.

            The objections he had so recently pointed out seemed to dissolve instantly.  “Yep,” he muttered, his voice sounding foreign.

            When she climbed on the seat behind him and he watched her legs slide around his, he knew it was over.  One way or another, he was going to have to see this through.  His body demanded it.  When he agreed to this, he had unwittingly become her plaything, and though he didn’t like it, he was no longer the ultimate decision-maker.  She pressed her cheek against his back, her arms folding around his middle.  He winced as he noticed the bulge in his pants was becoming more and more noticeable.  All he could do was pray that they reached the Buchman house before his precarious position became embarrassing.

            By some stroke of luck, he was able to do just that, and as they stood together on the front steps, he said a silent thank you.  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.  As if she could feel the weight of his stare, she turned to give him a playful wink.  The teasing smile she offered was almost his undoing.  She was way too cocky for her own good, which was probably what he found so damned attractive about her.  Behind that grin, there was no shame. 

            She was going in for the kill, and he was just along for the ride. 

            The door swung inward to reveal Teddy Buchman, a chicken leg held firmly in his hand.  Upon seeing them, his eyes widened.  His gaze traveled back and forth between them for a moment before realization set in.

            “Well, well, well!  Somehow, I don’t think you got an invitation, Hart.  What, did your bike break down?” he inquired with a derisive sneer.

            “He’s with me, Teddy,” Mallory chimed in.  She laced her arm through Jackson’s, leaning in to press against his side.  “He’s my date.”  When she looked up at him dreamily, he knew he should have put a stop to things earlier.

            Teddy offered a crude snort.  “I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing, Mallory.  All right, fine by me.  Come on in,” he relented, moving aside so they could enter. 

            Jackson sighed heavily.  This was going to be worse than he thought.  Up until now, he hadn’t been sure how far she would go.  But her performance just now confirmed that she was willing to go all the way.  When they stepped through the French doors onto the back porch, it appeared the party was in full swing.  Kids were jumping into the pool, splashing each other.  Some of the boys had girls on their shoulders and were deep in the middle of a chicken fight.   Most of the adults had gravitated to the side of the house, where tables were set up with red and white checkered tablecloths. 

            Several heads turned as they came out.  He felt the curious stares from the girls, and the suspicious ones from the boys.  Mallory’s meddling had assured that this was definitely going to be a day for the Princeton history books.  Jackson Hart had just invaded the nice and tidy world of the rich and he wasn’t sure any of them would ever be the same again.

            He followed Mallory over to a group of kids who were standing beside the pool.  “Hey Mallory, we didn’t think you would ever get here,”  Leah called out running over to join them.  

            Mallory tucked her arm in his causing Leah’s eyebrows to arch. 

            “So, what took you so long?” she added in a teasing voice, her gaze flicking back and forth between them.

            Mallory rolled her eyes dramatically.  “Not what you’re thinking, I’m sure,” she chided.  “Leah, have you met Jackson Hart?”

            Jackson looked down at the girl.  Her red hair was short and swung playfully around her ears.  Her bikini nearly matched her hair, but was partially covered by a damp towel wrapped tightly around her waist.  He held out a hand, which she gave a firm shake. 

“Nice to meet you,” he offered distractedly.  His eyes flickered to the group of boys who were huddled together frowning as they overtly stared at them.

            “You, too!  Mallory’s told me…”  She paused for dramatic effect.  “Almost nothing about you, so I guess you’ll have to fill in the blanks.”  At Mallory’s look of censure, she gave her a wicked grin.

            “Leah!”  Mallory scolded.

            “Well, I see my work here is done.  If you guys want a soda, there’s plenty in the cooler.  I’m going to go find Tim and see why he’s not paying enough attention to me.”  Leah walked over to the group, stopping briefly to chat before taking a seat.

            One of the boys headed their way, and Jackson tensed. 

“What are you doing here, Hart?” 

            His eyes narrowed and his chest bowed out.  Sensing the change in his demeanor, Mallory quickly intervened.  “He’s with me, David.” 

David’s blond hair was still slicked back from the pool, and his wet swim trunks were creating a puddle of water around his feet.  Jackson didn’t know David well, but he knew him well enough to know that he was nothing more than a self-centered rich kid who probably never had to work a day in his life.

            “And just what made you think you could invite him?  I mean, my parents invited you, Mallory.  Not him!”

            Jackson took a menacing step toward him, causing Mallory to put a restraining hand on his chest. 

            “You got a problem, Hart?” David yelled, as several of his friends came to stand behind him.

            “Nothing I can’t take care of right now,” he bit out.

            “Come on, Hart!  Let’s go,” David prodded, as he glanced behind him, giving his friends a satisfied nod. 

            “No!” Mallory screamed.  “Let’s just go, Jackson,” she begged, coming to stand between them as she stared imploringly at Jackson.

            “You don’t have to go, Mallory,” David explained with a sneer.  “I’m sure Hart can find his own way home.”

            He was just about to respond, when Mallory turned to David.  “If he’s not welcome here, then neither am I.”  She spun on her heel, taking Jackson by the arm and leading him out despite his obvious reluctance.

            Once they were safely on the bike and headed out to the main road, she called to him, her voice muffled by the wind.  “I don’t want to go home, yet.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere, just not home,” she admitted.

He drove to an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of town, parking his bike out back.  After helping her off the bike, he walked over to pull open the weather-beaten door.  Watching her walk around the room, he noticed the tension in her shoulders.  He could only imagine how she felt right now.  Mallory Westfall had actually been thrown out of a party.  It wasn’t something that happened to people like her.  In truth, he was a little bewildered himself.  The scene that David Buchman caused did not surprise him in the least.  In fact, he had expected it, had been prepared for it. 

What surprised him most was her reaction. 

He had expected her to ditch him once she realized she had pushed them too far.  Instead, she had held her head high and walked out right along with him.  Her motives were still unclear.  Had she done it because she didn’t like being called out or was there another reason?  One thing he knew for sure was that he needed a cigarette—bad.  He walked over to lean against the wall pulling one out to light it. 

She fiddled with the pockets on her skirt.  “I’m sorry about what happened.  I still can’t believe that they threw us out,” she confessed, refusing to meet his eyes.

He snorted.  “Can’t you?  Isn’t that why you brought me there?  To stir the pot?”

Her eyes widened at his accusation.  Deep down, she knew he was right.  When she invited him to the barbeque, it had been in an attempt to make her father angry.  She just wanted him to realize that he couldn’t control everything she did.  She was sick and tired of him expecting her to bend to his every whim.  The fact that Jackson knew what she was up to all along, and still went with her made her feel even worse. 

Walking across the room, she took a seat on a small wooden bench that had been left behind.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry,” she admitted softly. 

He shook his head.  “Don’t sweat it.  I knew what I was getting into.”

She couldn’t help but voice the question that had been plaguing her.  “If you knew, then why did you come?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he dropped his cigarette and stamped it out with his foot.  “I don’t know.  Curiosity, maybe?  What about you?  Was it just your idea of fun to get me thrown out?  You thought you would teach me a lesson.  Try to put me in my place?”

“No,” she replied.  “No, I swear it wasn’t like that.  I admit that I wanted to make my father angry, but I never imagined they would throw us out.  I was just tired of him trying to plan my life for me.  That’s all, I swear.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

He pushed away from the wall.  “I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?  Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Pain sliced through her heart.  She wasn’t sure why his opinion of her was so important, but it was.  Walking over to him, she placed a hand on his arm.  “I really didn’t mean it like that, I swear.”

She could feel the muscles in his arm flex under her fingers.  Before she could stop herself, she leaned in to press her lips against his.  At first, he didn’t respond.  He merely stood there while she explored the fullness of his lips with her own.  But, then, she felt his arms close around her waist drawing her in deeper.  Her hands came up to blaze trails through his hair.  Her tongue tentatively traced his lower lip.  A low growl escaped his throat. 

Then, he took control.  His tongue demanding entrance to the warm hollow of her mouth.  She moaned softly at the sweet sensation of being claimed.  She pressed her body against his wanting more.

Before she knew what was happening, he pushed her away. 

“I should take you home,” he said gruffly, his eyes clouded with passion.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion.  She wanted to protest, but the fierceness of her own emotions were too new, too unsettling.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t been kissed before.  She had, but never like that.  It seemed ironic that Jackson Hart could awaken things in her that were so intense, when all others failed.   When he climbed on the bike in front of her, she pressed herself tightly against him.  Resting her cheek against his back, she knew that she was in trouble.

She was falling in love with Jackson Hart.

And she wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from her.

Stay Tuned for More of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

Wow! It has been a busy October! Last week I was at the Southern Women’s Show. Thanks to everyone who stopped by

Also, November 7th I will be at the Altamonte Mall doing a booksigning for the Adult Literacy League. Make sure to stop by and say hi if you are in the area and remember the first 100 people to buy a book receive a goody bag full of free books and promotional materials!

Excerpt 5

She had to be insane. 

It was the only thing that explained being here today.  All night she tossed and turned over her decision to let her son spend the day with Jackson.  The “if’s” of what could happen were not good.  Even as she drove down the dirt road that led to the cabin, she told herself she was a fool.  Handing her son over to a lion whose claws were out was not a good idea, especially when those claws were out for her blood. 

            What if Jacob unwittingly led Jackson straight to the truth? 

            She wasn’t sure she could face him if he knew what she’d done, what she had kept from him.  And Jacob!  Would he ever forgive her for lying to him all these years?  She could stand against one, but both would be a fight she wouldn’t win.  Father and son were too stubborn to ignore even the slightest hint of deception.  Of that, she was sure.  To back out now would only generate questions she didn’t have answers to.

            She pulled her car to a stop beside the jeep.  Jacob bounded out of the backseat, before she could move the gearshift into park.  Sighing heavily, she climbed out of the car to watch Jackson step out onto the deck letting the screen door slam behind him.  His black hair was tousled and his Aerosmith t-shirt had several noticeable wrinkles.  After a quick greeting, he led Jacob around to the shed on the side of the house. 

A feeling of dread swept through her. 

            Was she really about to turn her son over to Jackson Hart?

            When they reappeared, their arms were wrapped around several cans of paint.  Jacob ran up the steps to begin spreading out a drop cloth as Jackson put the cans on the steps.  His gaze strayed to where she waited and he crossed the distance to join her. 

“We should be done by two,” he casually informed, running a hand through his hair. 

            Mallory stared past him to where her son was already beginning to work.  Never once did he glance up.  “Jacob, I’ll pick you up at two, then,” she called over Jackson’s shoulder.

            He cast an irritated look her way.  “Whatever, Mom,” he yelled with a scowl of frustration.

            She tried to maintain her wobbly smile at his curt dismissal.  Her gaze returned to Jackson, who was still looking at Jacob a frown marring his features.  To save herself from any further embarrassment, she muttered a quick, “Well, I better get going.”

            She fumbled for her keys as she raced to the car trying to hold back the tears she knew were on the way.  Just as she reached for the door handle, Jackson caught up with her grabbing her arm to spin her around.  “You actually let him get away with talking to you like that?” he asked incredulously.

            “He’s been through a lot,” she defended, unable to return his gaze for fear of breaking down in front of him.

            “He shouldn’t be talking to you that way.  You’re his mother,” he observed in a harsh tone.

            His ready defense shocked her.  “That’s why I get the brunt of it.  He knows I’m not going to leave,” she explained solemnly.

            Jackson stared down at the woman who had stolen his sleep for the past few nights.  The bags under her eyes confirmed that he was not alone.  He wasn’t sure why the scene with Jacob disturbed him so much, but it did.  Her lack of reaction to Jacob’s callousness was unsettling. 

“And you just take it?”

            “I’ll be back at two,” she informed curtly, pulling her arm out of his grasp.  She turned back to look at Jacob for a moment, her indecision clear. 

             “He’ll be fine, Mal.”  Her eyes met his and held for a fleeting moment.  “Unless you want to stay?”

            He wasn’t sure why he made the offer, but before he could stop it it was out there.        “I have some errands in town.”  Her fingers fumbled as she unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. 

            Jackson watched her drive away.  She was running again, but she couldn’t run forever.  Before he left, he would have the answers he needed, the answers he had been denied.  In truth, he wasn’t sure that hearing her admit what she had done would fill the hole she created years ago, but it was worth a try.  When he left Princeton this time, she would not be able to close her eyes to the pain she caused.  For the first time in her life, she was going to own who she was.  He just hoped that she did it soon, or the town was going to have a hell of a lot more to gossip about.

Fifteen years ago

            “Come on, Mallory,” Derrick pleaded.

            “Derrick, I told you no,” she repeated, she hoped for the last time. 

He had been pestering her all week to attend the Buchmans’ barbeque with him.  Despite her countless refusals, he would not let it go.  After what happened at the dance a couple of weeks ago, she didn’t think she could stand to spend another minute with him, let alone an entire evening.  Between Derrick and her father, they were making her life miserable.  They were determined to make everyone in town think that she and Derrick were dating. 

            He grabbed her arm to prevent her from walking away again.  “Mallory, everyone will be expecting us to go together, including your father,” he reasoned with a wounded look.

            “Well, I guess they will all be disappointed then!  Now, let go of my arm!”

            Suddenly, his grip tightened painfully.  His eyes narrowed and the vein on his neck began to pound furiously.  “No!  It’s time you stopped playing games with me!” 

She looked up at his face.  Fear made her heart beat faster.  His eyes were almost black.  In all the time she spent with him, she had never seen him like this. 

            “I suggest you let her go,” a harsh voice instructed from behind.

            Derrick glanced over her head.  “This isn’t your business.”

            “If you don’t let her go, it will be,” Jackson retorted, his deep voice booming.

            Mallory held her breath, every nerve in her body on edge.  Derrick’s eyes pinned her with a look of disgust, before shifting to look at Jackson.  “What are you going to do about it?  You gonna make me?” he challenged.

             “You’re about to find out,” Jackson assured.

            Before she knew what was happening, Derrick released her, shoving her toward Jackson.  His arms came up quickly to catch her. 

“Take her.  She was never good for much anyway,” Derrick spat, before stalking off into the distance. 

            A shiver raced up her spine at the feel of Jackson’s hands on her body.  His worried look made her move away quickly to avoid further embarrassment. 

“Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine.  He just surprised me, that’s all.  I never expected him to act that way,” she confessed.

            He glanced in the distance, his expression unreadable.  “People aren’t always what they seem.”
            She turned to face him trying to muster her best smile.  “So, I guess this makes two times you’ve saved me.”

            Shaking his head, his gaze traveled over the length of her body in a way that left her breathless.  “I’m nobody’s hero,” he admitted with a lazy grin.

            “You were for me today.  I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you,” she offered softly.

            Jackson stared down at her slim figure.  He could think of more than one way she could thank him.  His hands curled into fists in the pockets of his jeans as he stamped down the thoughts that raced through his mind.  It wouldn’t do any good to think about things like that with a girl like this.  She was off-limits, and had been ever since they were both born.  Still, despite the internal pep talk, he felt his erection thicken.

            “Actually, there’s a barbeque at the Buchman’s, and I don’t have a date,” she hinted shamelessly with a precocious smile.

            He walked over to the stack of books he had left forgotten on the steps behind him.  “That’s too bad,” he agreed over his shoulder, ignoring her obvious attempt to rope him in.

            To his dismay, she followed behind him. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be if you take me,” she observed, all of her subtlety gone.

            His notebook lay open, his pen cradled in the center.  He quickly scooped it up.

“What are you writing?” she asked curiously, peaking around his shoulder as he slammed the book shut.

            “It’s nothing,” Jackson dismissed a little too quickly.

            “You write?”

            He grimaced at her obvious interest.  “Sometimes,” he replied.

            “What do you write?  Can I read some?”

            His grip on the book became painful.  He didn’t let other people read what he wrote.  It was too personal, like they would be able to see into his soul.  Even his mother, who had begged on occasion, had yet to read a single line.  His writing was private.  It wasn’t something he was ready to share with the world. 

“No.”

            His curt refusal brought an embarrassed blush to her cheeks.  “Sorry,” she apologized.  “So, will you take me?” 

            He turned to face her.  The smile on her face, he was afraid, would damn them both.  She batted her eyelashes playfully causing an unwelcome stir in his lower region.  He knew he shouldn’t go.  She was obviously baiting someone with his presence at the event.  Still, the thought of seeing the faces of all those stuck-up snobs when he came in did have its perks. 

            Even as he told himself he shouldn’t, his hand came up to trail along the side of her cheek causing her mouth to fall open.  

She was playing a game with him. 

A game she obviously thought she was going to win. 

What would happen if he began to play a little game of his own?

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I hope that you are all enjoying my blog book, Choices.  I’m sure, like me, you are all getting ready for Halloween.  This is one of my favorite times of year.  It’s when a person’s creative side can definitely come out.

Excerpt 4

The rest of the day seemed like an eternity to Mallory.  Every few minutes, her gaze would be inevitably drawn back to the novel he left on the counter.  She would never understand him or his motives.  All she knew was that whatever Jackson Hart did these days, it certainly wasn’t in her best interest. 

She was just counting out the register, when she saw Jacob in the window.  She waved him in.  “How was school?” she inquired with a smile.

The door shut behind him, his dark brown hair still blowing in the breeze.  His faded brown corduroy jacket almost completely concealed the blue polo shirt he wore beneath it.  His jeans were faded, but not from long years of use, the washed-out color was factory generated.  The tennis shoes he wore, made famous by a basketball star, had been something he just had to have.  Mallory couldn’t keep up with the latest trends, but she didn’t have to worry.  Jacob was all too happy to keep her apprised of what was cool to wear to school.

“A pain in the ass,” he answered candidly.

“Jacob Daniel Lange!” she yelled.

“Sorry, but it’s true,” he said, kicking his feet against the bottom of the counter.

“You know how I feel about that kind of language, Jacob,” she admonished.

“I know.  You can use it, but I can’t,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes.

She gave him a stern glare.  Ever since the divorce, he seemed to feel he could say anything to her.  Her first instinct was to punish him severely, but in the end she usually backed down.  Soon, she would have to put a stop to his acting out.  She couldn’t let him think this was acceptable.  Somewhere, in the middle of her own personal trauma over the divorce, she had loosened the reigns on her son’s behavior.

And now she was paying the price for it. 

“I try very hard not to use that kind of language, Jacob.  And you need to do the same.”
            “Whatever,” he bit out on a harsh sigh.

She closed the register drawer, grabbing her coat from the stool.  “Are you ready to go to dinner?”  Coming around the counter to follow him out the door, she took care to make sure the lights were off and the door was securely locked.

She had hoped Jacob’s sour mood would sweeten by the time they reached Dick Clark’s, but unfortunately, it hadn’t.   When they slid into a booth, he grabbed the menu ignoring the waitress’s chipper greeting.  By the time their drinks came, he was slouched low in the seat. 

“Didn’t you have a math test today?” she asked, as she took as sip of her soda.

He let out a sarcastic grunt.  “When am I ever going to use Algebra anyway?”

She wasn’t really sure she had ever used Algebra in her adult life, either; but, she forced herself to play devil’s advocate.  “You can use Algebra for all sorts of things,” she assured evenly.

He held up a hand to halt her.  “Spare me the pep talk, Mom.”

She sighed heavily.  Her son was becoming a smart ass, and she wasn’t sure what to do to stop it.  In less than a year’s time, he went from a straight A student on the basketball team to not wanting to participate in anything, especially conversations with her.  She glanced around the small interior of the restaurant just in time to see Jackson Hart come through the front door. 

Great, just what she needed to make a bad day worse. 

She quickly lowered her gaze to the placemat, which held a sketch of the restaurant along with facts about when it first opened.  Feigning interest in the cost of a tenderloin sandwich in the fifties, she tried to ignore the man who was lithely moving toward her.  She told herself not to look up, that he would hopefully soon be seated far away from her, but curiosity got the better of her.  She raised her head only to find him hovering over her. 

“Small world,” he observed.

“Isn’t it though?” she replied, trying to muster her most congenial smile.

 He gave Mallory an expectant look as he glanced over at Jacob.  “So, are you going to introduce me?”

All of the air in her lungs seemed to vanish in an instant.  Somehow, she regained enough of it to say, “Jacob, this is Jackson Hart.”

Her son’s eyes widened as he quickly slid out of the booth extending his hand to Jackson and giving it a firm shake.  Mallory stared at him in amazement. 

Was this really the same child she was just having dinner with? 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hart.  I’ve read all of your books.” 

Suddenly, she felt like she was in the middle of a science fiction movie.  Had her son been invaded by an alien force that compelled him to be pleasant?  The warmth of Jackson’s smile when he gazed at him made her insides shake.

 ”You’ve read my books?”

Jacob bobbed his head excitedly.  “Yes, sir.  My favorite is Twisted Paradise,” he beamed.  “Do you want to have dinner with us?”

“Honey, I’m sure Mr. Hart is too busy to have dinner with us,” she interrupted.  Jacob was beginning to take this nice act a little too far.

Jackson turned to give her a look of admonishment.  “Actually, I don’t,” he said turning back to her son with a grin.  “I would love to have dinner with you.  Thank you, Jacob.”

Jackson motioned his head toward Mallory.  Just when she thought he was obviously kidding, he sat down next to her forcing her to move over.  Jacob returned to his side of the booth completely enamored with their new dinner guest.  Mallory scooted in as far as she could, trying desperately to ignore the heat of his leg pressing against hers. 

“So, you liked Twisted Paradise?  It wasn’t too violent for you?” Jackson asked with raised eyebrows.

Jacob shook his head.  “No sir, I thought it was great.”

The waitress appeared at their side, and Jackson quickly ordered a sandwich.  All through dinner, Mallory watched her son talk to Jackson in the most animated tone she had heard him use in months.  Although she didn’t completely understand it, Jackson Hart was the one person who seemed to have the ability to bring her son out of the funk he had been in since the divorce.  It was disturbing to watch how easy their encounter was.

Especially, when her own were so difficult. 

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jacob said standing up to head toward the back of the restaurant.

Jackson leaned an elbow on the table turning to face her in the booth.  “Good kid you have there,” he observed with a casual smile.

“He has his moments,” she replied keeping her gaze trained on her plate.

“Don’t we all,” he agreed with a chuckle.  “How old is he?  Thirteen, fourteen?”

Panic made her blood pressure shoot up.  Did he know?  Would he guess?  The look in his eyes told her that she didn’t have much choice but to answer.  “Fourteen,” she heard herself say.

His jaw clenched and his hand curled into a fist.  “So, you were screwing Lange even then?” he bit out angrily.

He didn’t know.

He hadn’t guessed the truth. 

The realization was tampered with the knowledge that he thought she was a whore. It hurt more than she wanted to admit. 

“You can think what you want, Jackson.”

He leaned in closer.  His chest rubbed against the side of her arm leaving a trail of fire in its wake. 

“I just want to hear you say it, Mallory.  For once in your life, I want you to own up to every dirty thing you’ve ever done.”

Before she could reply, Jacob returned. 

“Jacob, I was thinking, if you want to earn some extra money, I could use some help at the cabin,” Jackson offered. 

Mallory’s head whipped to the side to stare at him.  He switched gears so easily it made her head spin.

“I’d love to!”  “He can’t!”  Mother and son both spoke at the same time.

Jackson looked back and forth between the two of them, his amusement clear.              “Come on, Mom.  You know I’ve been saving up for a Yamaha YZ250,” he cried out.

At Jackson’s apparent confusion, she tilted her head to the side murmuring, “A dirt bike.”

Jackson’s eyes widened and he nodded his head appreciatively.  “Don’t worry, Mal.  I won’t let him get into anymore trouble at my place then he would on a dirt bike,” he promised with a mischievous wink.

An unwelcome fluttering began in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the wink or his use of the familiar nickname.  With both of them staring at her, Mallory knew she had only one option if she wanted to avoid further questioning. 

“Fine, but only for a few days.  I’m sure Mr. Hart has to be getting home,” she relented.

“Actually, I was thinking about sticking around for a while,” he explained.

“What?”

He smiled at her obvious unease.  “Well, I have some work to do around the cabin.  I was going to sell it, but now I’m starting to reconsider.  After all, it would be a nice, quiet place to write.”

Mallory twisted the napkin in her hands.  He wasn’t serious.  He couldn’t be.  He was just trying to rattle her, and unfortunately, it was working.  When the waitress came with the check, Jackson quickly threw out several bills.  She stilled his hand with her own.

“I can’t let you buy dinner.” 

Jackson’s gaze remained on the hand that covered his own.  She quickly pulled it away, uncomfortable with his intense scrutiny. 

“I insist,” he replied firmly.

“But…” she began.

He gave her a look of warning.  “I’m not letting you pay for dinner, Mallory.”

She let out the breath she had been holding as her gaze returned to her son.  The look on his face told her that the bizarre encounter was not lost on him.  She could only guess what he might be thinking right now. 

Jacob followed Jackson out the entrance leaving her to trail behind them, apparently forgotten.  As she followed them out, she realized that for now she had successfully dodged the bullet.  Jacob was enthusiastically detailing the highlights of the dirt bike he wanted when she caught up with them. 

“Do you need a ride back to your car?” Jackson offered.

“No,” Mallory dismissed, ignoring her son’s look of protest.  “The fresh air will do us good.”

“Oh Jacob, I have something for you,” he explained, leading them both to the parking lot out back.  He reached inside the front seat to pull out a manuscript.  He handed it to Jacob.  He finished the book six months ago, and was waiting for the final edit to come in.  Jacob stared down at it with reverence.  “It’s a copy of my new book.  Maybe you can help me think of a title?”  

Jacob’s eyes lit up at the request.  “Thanks,” he said walking to the back of the truck already reading the first page.

Before she could walk away, Jackson grabbed her arm.  He pulled her against him, his voice low in her ear.  “I haven’t forgotten, Mallory.  You will tell me everything, before I leave.”

“I’m not telling you anything, Jackson.”

“Then, I guess I’ll just have to stay.” 

 

Stay Tuned for More of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

I’m sooo excited to announce that Den of Desire, the second book in the Club X series, is a #1 Bestseller!!!

I also wanted to let you know that The One Nighter is now available at http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=140&zenid=a64e746a975c7849244b1e2d4349accf

Now, for Excerpt 3 of Choices…

Excerpt 3

Jackson stood by the door of the funeral home not wanting to take another step further.  Shock had prevented him from making the arrangements over the phone before he left Florida.  He hadn’t wanted to face the truth, then. 

Now, he had no choice. 

Time had run out, and he had to make the decisions he had been putting off.  Mallory’s visit didn’t help.  He wasn’t sure why she had come.  He only wished she hadn’t.  Somehow, she always found a way to turn his world upside down.  Seeing her had stirred emotions that he wasn’t ready to deal with.  He had berrated himself the whole way here for his physical reaction to her.  He wasn’t sure how his body could betray him for a woman he hated so much, but then again his body had never been under his control when she was around. 

            “You must be Mr. Hart,” an elderly gentleman said coming out from one of the rooms in the back.  He closed the distance between them holding his hand out to Jackson. 

Jackson took it, giving it a firm shake.  “Mr. Kale?”

Mr. Kale’s white hair was neatly trimmed around ears that stuck out a little bit.  His pale blue suit was a generation behind the times, and his wire rimmed glasses looked like they might have been repaired on the side too frequently to last much longer.

He nodded at Jackson.  “If you want to follow me, we can take care of the arrangements in here.”

Following him into a sitting room on the left, he couldn’t help but notice the way the tan carpet crunched beneath his feet.  Mr. Kale motioned for him to sit on an overstuffed ivory couch.  A fluffy, white hand-stitched pillow was pushed into the corner of the cushions.  Tables equipped with boxes of Kleenex sat on either side.  Jackson wondered how many boxes they went through in a year.  Nobody died in Princeton without a visit to Colvin’s funeral home.  As the only funeral home, they pretty much had the market cornered. 

Mr. Kale pulled out several binders that held glossy photos of caskets.  His jacket stretched over his arms as he laid them on the table.   He pushed his glasses up a little higher on the perch of his nose as he looked up at Jackson. 

“Fortunately, for you, your mother already made most of the arrangements,” he explained, grabbing a folder labeled HART from the table. 

“She did?” Jackson asked, his surprise evident.

“You know your mother.  She wanted to be prepared.  Nothing left to chance.”

A somber smile crept across Jackson’s face.  It sounded like something his mother would do.  He glanced at the choices she selected for her “send-off” party.  Despite the wealth he had accumulated over the last few years, her choices remained modest.  He wished that he had been able to spend more time with her before she died.  But his quest for success had robbed him of the opportunity. 

He just always thought there would be time.

Time to spend with family.

Time to do the things he wanted. 

In all the years he had been gone, he had never once regretted the amount of time and energy he spent on his pursuits…until now.  Through the years, his single-minded focus on achieving his goals had been the only thing that kept him sane.  Now, with his mother’s choice of casket and plot laid out before him, he thought of how much he had missed in life. 

He had no family left. 

He was truly alone. 

Everything, especially success, had a cost.  Even if you didn’t know what it was up front, you still had to pay.  And he had, in full.

In spite of his need to give her something more elaborate than she was accustomed to, he knew he would comply with her wishes.  An hour later, he found himself sitting in the flower store amid yet another set of books with different displays.  After he muddled through the decidedly feminine choices, he pushed open the door stepping out onto the sidewalk to take a deep breath.  All he had left to face was the viewing and the funeral. 

He felt empty, barren, deserted. 

He glanced around the city streets.  Streets he knew so well, but now felt like a stranger in.  A small shop on the corner caught his eye, The Bookworm.  Maybe a book was just what he needed to relight the fire.  When he was younger, he had been able to disappear in books.  Then, when he began to write his own, he disappeared in his characters.  It had always been a safe place he could retreat to. 

But, for the past four months, he hadn’t been able to write anything he was proud to put his name on.  He felt tapped out, and it scared him.  He told himself that it was just a momentary burnout, but the longer it continued the more fearful he became.  The one constant in his life had always been his writing.  It had been a friend when no one else was there. 

He could depend on it.

Until recently. 

When he got closer to the store, a smile crept across his face.  The shop was charming.  The bottom half of the exterior was covered with classic book titles, as if they were stacked on a bookshelf.  A bright caricature of a bookworm held center stage with a top hat and a cane on the picture window next to the name of the store. 

Now, this was a place he could feel comfortable.

He pulled the door open, causing the small bell above it to jingle.  Scanning the front bookshelves, he noticed a prominent display of his books to the left with a large sign that read Princeton’s own local author, Jackson Hart.  He couldn’t help but chuckle as he picked up one of his titles.  Fifteen years ago, no one would’ve dared put his name on anything they wanted to sell.  Now, they were all lining up to capitalize on his fame.

“I’ll be right there,” a woman called out from the back of the store. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up.  It couldn’t be, he thought, quickly dismissing the idea.  Glancing at the other books on the shelf, he took a few steps to peruse some of the other titles.  He was just about to pick up a new Stephen King novel, when she popped her head around the corner of the aisle. 

“Finding everything…”

Jackson stared at her unable to believe the cruel irony.  It was fitting that the second he found some kind of peace she would have to ruin it. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked curtly.

Her eyebrows rose at the terse inquiry.  “This is my shop,” she answered.

Snorting, he shook his head.  “That sounds about right.” 

For his luck, he wanted to say, but didn’t.

She walked over to the counter, putting the stack of books she’d been carrying down.  “Looking for anything in particular?”

Her question took him by surprise.  His gaze lowered to the book he had just picked up.  “Something to take my mind off things,” he replied absently.

The carefully disguised despair in his voice brought her head up.  She stared at him for a moment before looking away.  He looked so desolate.  Her visit was probably partially responsible.  It had taken its toll on her, as well.  Still, he didn’t want her sympathy.  He had made that very clear at the cabin earlier. 

“If you like King, I have some of his older books in the back.”

He closed the distance between them causing her head to come up. 

“Why, a bookstore?”

His question stunned her momentarily, but she quickly recovered her composure.  “I’ve always liked to read.  A person can pick up a book and feel like they’re somewhere else.  I don’t know.  I just always thought there was something special about that.”

A hint of a smile ghosted across his face.  “I remember,” he murmured.

She tried to ignore the way it made her feel that he still remembered the tiniest details.  “Besides, this town needed a bookstore that wasn’t twenty minutes away.”

“What are you reading now?” 

Mallory tried to stop her heart from beating so fiercely, but his nearness wouldn’t allow it.  “Mostly murder mysteries,” she answered. 

His lazy grin took her by surprise.  “I thought you liked romance,” he chided.  Before she could reply, he continued.  “I remember you used to read two or three a week.”

When her lips parted, his gaze followed the movement. 

“I don’t read those anymore,” she admitted softly.

“Why?”

“Murder mysteries seem more realistic to me these days.”

He exhaled, his eyes scanning the small shop.  ”You have a point.  But people still believe in happily ever after, because the books still sell.”  He paused for a moment before continuing.   ”So, what happened between you and Derrick?”

Her eyes widened.  “What do you mean?”

“Why, the breakup?  I thought you two were the perfect couple,” he added sarcastically.

He hadn’t heard the gossip. 

She wasn’t sure how anyone could be in this town for more than eight hours and not hear about her very public divorce and the reason for it.  But somehow Jackson hadn’t been informed.  Suddenly, she realized why.  Jackson was not one for idle conversation.  He had never been one to gossip with the crowd.  After all, he had been a victim of those same whispers for years.   

“No one is perfect,” she replied noncommittally.

He leaned a hip against the edge of the counter, his face coming devastatingly close to hers.  “So, what finally did it?  Did he realize just how fickle you could be?  Or was it the fact that you slept around?”

Before she could stop herself, her hand came up to slap him.  A red mark began to form on his cheek. He grabbed her arm, yanking her against him.  Their bodies pressed against each other from head to toe. 

“Is that it?  You like it rough now?”

“Bastard!” she hissed through her teeth, as she tried to pull her arm free of his grasp.

“Back to my old nickname, are we honey?  Well, I’ve been called worse.”

The gruff tone of his voice and the feel of his body against hers made her soften in all the wrong places.  She cursed herself and him for the reaction her body was having to his nearness.  His other hand slid around her waist making any chance for escape impossible.

For a moment, the only sound was their breathing. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her tone defeated as she felt her body giving in to him.  Her nipples hardened against his chest. 

His eyes darkened, and his head dipped lower to bring his mouth closer to hers.  “I don’t know,” he admitted softly.  Her eyes widened as she felt his breath waft against her lips. 

The bell above the door jingled as an elderly woman with a cane walked in.  Mallory and Jackson sprung apart, but not before the other woman caught a glimpse of the embrace.  After a brusque “Excuse me”, Jackson disappeared out the front door leaving Mallory to lean heavily against the counter.  She had expected rage, fury; that she could’ve dealt with.  But she had been completely unprepared for this last onslaught.  She could deal with his anger. 

But his passion…that she wasn’t so sure about.  

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…

Hi Everyone,

Things are about to heat up!  I hope that you are all enjoying my book, Choices.  And I hope that you check out my Club X Series from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.  You can find it at http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=140&zenid=a64e746a975c7849244b1e2d4349accf

Chapter 2

After a stop at the grocery store, Jackson drove the fifteen miles to his mother’s cabin on the river.  The entrance was well-secluded by trees.  He turned the jeep onto the steep hill of the dirt road following it around a field of corn.  One thing you could count on in Indiana, he thought with a smile, corn fields.  It was the local staple.  Many times as a kid, corn fields had been the perfect hiding place when he wasn’t ready to come home despite his mother’s reminders that it wasn’t their property.   Only children had the purity of mind to see open land instead of property lines. 

He parked the jeep in front of the cabin sliding out to walk around to the back.  After retrieving his bags from the trunk, he made his way to the front porch.  The soothing sounds of flowing water and birds chirping made him smile.  An animal’s paradise.  He climbed the five steps to the front door.  After living in Florida for the past twelve years, where change was expected, he wasn’t quite ready for the similarities to the days of his youth. 

The cabin was fairly small with wooden paneling on the outside.  Blue shutters still adorned the windows reminding him of the long hours it took to paint them.  Now, the paint was chipped and peeling.  He grimaced.  His mother had needed him more than she would ever admit.  And, for his own selfish reasons, he had left her here to fend for herself.

He shook himself mentally pushing through the door.  There would be plenty of time for guilt later.  He stepped inside, completely unprepared for the familiar scents that washed over him.  Standing in the middle of his mother’s house, he felt her presence all around him. 

A patchwork quilt covered the back of the small brown couch, which sat to his left.  A blue recliner accompanied by a wooden coffee table sat in front.  The big screen television on his right was the only obvious display of wealth in the house.  His mother had never been one for glitz. 

He remembered the first time she visited him in his condo with its sleek black lacquer tables and leather couches.  She had shaken her head in disdain saying the place didn’t feel like a home.  She had told him it needed a woman’s touch.  He had laughed at her suggestion. 

A woman! 

That was the last thing he needed.

His long strides brought him to the small walk-in kitchen, and he set the bags down on the bar.  He put everything away trying desperately to focus on the task at hand rather than face the brutal reality.  Standing here in her house, surrounded by her things, was a stark reminder that she was really gone.  She wouldn’t be walking through the front door.  Pain sliced through his chest at the thought that he would never see her again. 

He tried to busy himself with getting everything settled, before taking a seat on the couch.  Letting his head fall back on the cushion, he popped open a beer, silently wishing that he had bought something stronger.  When he brought it to his mouth, he lifted his gaze and saw it. 

Jesus! 

A portrait of Jesus hung on the wood paneled wall staring down at him.  The picture had been a legacy from his grandmother.  It had been placed strategically in her house to overlook the candy dish she set out.  He would never forget the way the eyes seemed to follow him around the room.  Even now, it still made him uncomfortable. 

His past was all around him. 

And if he wasn’t careful, it would consume him. 

After four beers and a lot of Andy Griffith reruns, sleep thankfully took over.  When he woke up the next morning sprawled out on the couch, he was instantly sorry that he had not taken the time to go to bed.   He winced as he got to his feet, his back aching.  Walking into the small bathroom, he flipped on the water in the shower and turned to take a look at himself in the vanity mirror.

His bloodshot eyes said it all.  Shedding his clothes, he stepped into the shower only to groan loudly at the cold rush.  He should have remembered that well water never quite warmed as quickly as city water.  By the time it got hot, he was done and already pulling a towel around his hips.  A car engine purred in the distance, and he slid the curtains on the bathroom window aside.  A silver Mercedes was pulling in next to his jeep.  

Shit! 

The last thing he needed was visitors, especially visitors who arrived in a Mercedes.  He hastily made his way to the bedroom to grab a pair of jeans as he heard the first knock.  His hair still wet, chest bare, he crossed the room to open the door.  He blinked, as if that might clear the vision from his eyes. 

But it didn’t. 

She was really here. 

“Hello, Jackson.” 

Jackson stared at the woman who had destroyed his life years ago.  Her auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose curls.  Memories of that hair spreading across his chest made his jaw clench.  Hazel eyes held flecks of gold, and her cheeks were perfectly highlighted with blush.  Her full lips were a shade too dark for his taste, and her high collared pink polo shirt could not hide the gentle swell of her breasts.  The dip of her waist made his hands burn with the need to span its length. 

What kind of changes would he find if he stripped her down right now? 

If he bared her? 

Despite her traitorous heart, she was and always would be a vision of perfection.  He hated her for that.  Hated her for the ache she could still create in him.  He felt his manhood stir and hated her even more for the reaction.

So, he did the only thing he could do.

He fought back.

“Still slumming after all these years?” he bit out gritting his teeth. 

Her hands closed into tight fists at her side.  “I came to pay my condolences.”

He let out a crude snort as he walked back into the house leaving the front door wide open. 

Realizing that it was the best invitation she was going to get, she walked in closing the door behind her.  She wasn’t exactly sure why she had come.  She’d told herself that she only wanted to pay her respects, but a part of her knew it was a lie. 

All morning she coached herself for a backlash, a tirade of verbal abuse.  But nothing prepared her for his current state of undress.  Whoever said Jackson Hart looked good was clearly insane.  He looked amazing.  His black hair fell into curls around his face, still wet from the shower she had obviously disturbed.  Green eyes widened at her presence causing the faint lines around them to pull tight.   His chest was bare, muscles glistening in the light.  A ring of hair circled each taut nipple reminding her of how it used to tickle her lips.  A thin line of hair seemed to form a path into the wasteband of his jeans.  Her body burned at the memory of feeling him covering her.       

Dear God, why was he still able to affect her like this?

When he came back into the room, he had thankfully pulled on a white cotton t-shirt.  She breathed in a sigh of relief as she allowed herself to glance around the room.  It had been years since she had been in the house, but oddly it remained just as she remembered.

“So?” he prompted brusquely.

Mallory took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry about your mother.  I liked her.  She was a kind woman,” she observed softly.

He glared at her, his continued silence adding to her unease.  Realizing that if she was waiting for help she was doing so in vain, she continued. 

“I wasn’t sure you would come back.”  She hadn’t meant to voice it allowed, but before she could think of something else, it was out there.

“I’m not cold-blooded like you.”

She supposed she deserved that, but it still cut deep.  Her gaze rose to meet his.  His anger was almost palpable and she had to muster all of her strength to face it. 

“I wasn’t sure if you would want me at the funeral,” she corrected.

He ran a hand through his damp hair.  “What I wanted never seemed to matter too much to you.”

His fierce look was almost her undoing, but she was determined to remain strong. 

“It matters now,” she replied firmly.

He rolled his eyes letting out a disgruntled groan.  “I don’t care what you do, Mallory.  Your actions haven’t concerned me for a long time.”

The finality of the statement didn’t shock her.  She had expected as much after what she had done.  Still, she couldn’t help but feel intense pain at the verbalization.  “Well, if you need anything…” she said trailing off turning to leave.

He let out a harsh chuckle at the mere notion of calling her for help.  

“So, how are things with Derrick?  Everything you’d hoped it would be?” 

When she faced him, guilt clouded her features.  “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard.  We’re divorced.”

He whistled and his eyebrows arched.  “I’ll bet daddy had a field day with that one,” he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Yes, well,” she replied.

“So, what now?  Who’s next on the chopping block?”

“What?”

“Who’s the next victim?”

She knew what he was doing. 

But she refused to let him get the rise he was so desparately searching for. 

“I don’t have any victims,” she denied. 

“That’s not how I remember it.  I remember quite a few casualties along the way.”

“You seemed to have done okay for yourself,” she countered.

“Would you be here if I hadn’t?”

The contempt in his eyes was too much, and she was forced to look away.  “People change,” she answered evenly.

“Not you.”

She tried to tell herself that he was just lashing out because of his recent loss.  She tried to tell herself that coming to his house to pay her condolences and calling him an ass at the same time would defeat the purpose. But the truth was that she was getting closer and closer to not caring. 

“I should go.”  

When she reached out to grab the doorknob, she heard him say, “Never could stand a fair fight, could you?”

Damn him! 

She spun around to face him.  “Jackson, I am trying very hard to remember that you are in a lot of pain right now,” she said, having been pushed way beyond her limits.  She refused to stand here all day and let Jackson Hart degrade her.  She had been walked on for too many years, not to push back.

“The last person I need pity from is you, Mallory,” he bit out furiously.

She shook her head, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.  “I just came to pay my respects, Jackson.  That’s all.  Think of me what you will.  You always have.”

With that, she left.

She didn’t want to hear any more, didn’t want to face any more of the anger she had seen in his eyes.  As she drove back to town, she realized she was a fool to think they could actually be civil to each other.  Too much had happened between them to be forgiven. 

They were sworn enemies now. 

But it hadn’t always been that way. 

Fifteen years ago

Derrick sat beside her at the table, his friends clamoring around him to discuss the latest football game.  She rolled her eyes. 

Why had she agreed to the date?

The answer came to her with glaring clarity. 

Because her father had insisted.

Derrick was a star quarterback for the Princeton Lions, and his parents had money.  All of the makings for a wonderful relationship, or so her father thought.  In truth, she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him. 

Not that he wasn’t handsome.  Even with her sitting next to him, all of the girls were making eyes at him.  With his blond hair feathered perfectly and his flawless smile, almost any girl in town was his for the taking—except Mallory.  His athletically toned body did nothing to set her heart a flutter.  Instead, he had the opposite effect on her.  Her main complaint with him lately was that he was mind-numbingly boring.  If she had to listen to the story of how he won the big game one more time, she thought she would puke. 

Tonight, he had convinced her to come with him, but she refused to let him drive.  Finally, after a lot of hesitation on his part, they agreed to meet at the dance.  He had been waiting for her at the entrance wanting everyone to know that they were together.  She wished she could share his enthusiasm.  Giving him a quick sidelong glance, she realized he was still droning on about the local coach refusing to let him call all of the shots.

In all the time she had been here, he hadn’t asked her to dance once.  It was no surprise, though.  Derrick wasn’t the best host, and he definitely wasn’t solicitous of anyone’s needs except his own.  She quickly made a hushed excuse about a headache leaving him to stare after her as she made her exit.

She was halfway home when the engine on her BMW began to smoke. 

Great!

The perfect end to the perfect night. 

She quickly got out walking around to the front.  She wasn’t sure why she bothered.  She didn’t know a thing about engines.  A dark cloud poured out from under the hood causing her to cough loudly.  Waving her hands through the air briskly, she tried to swat it away.  Glancing back and forth down the quiet country road, her arms gathering around her middle.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a motor in the distance.  She mumbled a prayer of thanks for the stroke of luck.  Maybe she wouldn’t be stuck out here all night, after all.  As the sound came closer, she realized that it wasn’t a car.  It was a motorcycle. 

Wonderful.

 It was just what she needed to ruin her dress.

She watched him pull up behind her car, easing the kickstand down as he killed the motor.  “It looks like you could use some help,” he said.

“Yes, please.  Smoke just started pouring out.”

As he walked around to look under the hood, Mallory took a moment to check him out.  Jackson Hart was what her father would say was “the wrong type of boy.”  She had heard the other girls talking about him.  Leah thought he was the hottest boy in school.  Staring at him, Mallory had to admit that she could see why.  His faded jeans hung low on his hips.  His black hair was neatly trimmed.  His worn leather jacket stretched over his arms as he reached under the hood. 

He turned to face her, wiping his hands on his jeans.  “Your radiator is bone dry.  You’ll have to add some water before you can get it out of here.”

Mallory’s gaze focused on the fullness of his lips and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.  “Okay,” she stammered.

He looked around for a moment, before offering, “I could take you home.”

“That would be great.”

When they reached his bike, he held out a hand to help her get on.  She took it, trying to ignore the erratic beat of her heart as she climbed onto the seat awkwardly.  He sat down in front of her, revving the engine.

“Hold on,” he instructed.

And she did.

Present Day

Mallory tried to hold back the tears as she drove home.  If she had known all those years ago how things would end, would she have ever gotten involved with him?   Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she realized she already knew the answer.  Her love for Jackson had been a fire that had consumed her.  And despite the way it ended, she wouldn’t give up the memory.

That kind of love was only meant for the young. 

Only they had the strength to sustain themselves when it burned out. 

All that was left now was pain and anger.  She had seen it in his eyes.

But would he still hate her if he knew the truth?

Stay Tuned for more of Choices…