Uncovering Lily Page 11
“Who are you?” I demand, pushing back against his chest to look up at him, having come to the startling realization that I don’t even know this man’s name, a man who’s seen, touched, and tasted my entire body. A man who I willing had sex with—who I enjoy being with.
I can feel the stares of the other commuters who are enjoying their morning entertainment. The man turns his head and scowls at them, and I watch as his thick eyebrows form an ominous dark line. They quickly look away.
Turning back, he looks at me with his warm golden eyes and his mouth turns up in an amused smile before he answers, “Xavier Finch.”
“Xavier Finch,” I parrot back, instantly recognizing the name of Peter’s best friend, Finn. A man I have heard spoken of over the years, but don’t remember ever meeting in person. “As in Finch Distributing?”
“Yes.” And for the first time, I see a genuine smile brightening his face, making him even more handsome.
The bus lurches and I fall into Finn’s chest. He wraps his arms around me tightly once again. “Don’t worry; I’ve got you.”
*****
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Looking for another book boyfriend? Meet ex-con and dog lover Aaron from FINDING SUNSHINE. Keep reading for an excerpt from FINDING SUNSHINE. Available NOW!
Excerpt from FINDING SUNSHINE
Chapter One
~ Aaron ~
Mid February – Boston
“Next!”
The booming voice of the harried Starbucks employee shakes me out of my zombie-like stupor. My body is protesting being awake this early, but I have a shift at the animal shelter in thirty minutes. We’re beginning our six-week puppy obedience training workshop, and I oversee all of the shelter’s training programs.
All I really want to do is collapse in a warm bed with something soft and cuddly—preferably a woman and not Russell, my three-year old chocolate brown English Labrador.
God, I hate Mondays.
Sadly, the reason I’m dead on my feet has nothing to do with being up all night enjoying myself. I wasn’t exhausting myself hitting some hot piece, or getting into any other kind of trouble. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid, it’s just too fucking depressing. My sex life—my social life—has been pretty pathetic lately. As in, I don’t have much of either.
I haven’t sought out any sort of relationship for nine months. Nine long months of self-imposed abstinence. I’d grown bored of meaningless relationships with woman who I only mildly tolerated. The truth is, I probably don’t deserve any woman who I would want to form a long-term and meaningful relationship with.
The real reason I’m a Walking Dead extra this morning is because I covered someone else's shift last night at The Pint, where I bartend. It has a pretty rough clientele. Pimps, drug dealers, and local bosses are all frequent patrons.
Why am I working there? I have a degree in Business Management from BC, for fuck’s sake!
In this economy, a man with a past as rough as mine can’t be too proud when looking for a job. I’m lucky enough to be able to do what I love and work with the animals at the shelter. I usually spend my mornings there, and then I bring Russell back home to our studio apartment above The Pint for his afternoon nap.
Dealing with the more rowdy, disgusting animals at the bar in the afternoon and evening seems like a fair tradeoff. Not to mention, I make pretty decent tips—mainly because the patrons know I keep my fucking trap shut. They reward me in a roundabout way for my discretion.
I was hired by Troy, the manager, under the bar’s legitimate business heading, and every two weeks, I’m given a paycheck, where I see my taxes and social security have eaten up all my hard work. I do my best to ignore the disreputable clientele, though. I keep my head down and do my job. Pouring drinks, filling bowls with pretzels, wiping down the bar, and decontaminating the johns.
Fuck, I hate my job!
Life never seems to go the way you imagine it will.
“Hi, how are you today?” asks the sweetest voice in front of me, pulling me from my depressing thoughts and waking me to my surroundings.
I’m standing in line at a small-overcrowded Starbucks with a dozen other Bostonians, waiting for my morning fix of caffeine. I usually go to the Dunkin Donuts across the street from my apartment, but this morning, for some reason, I felt like trying one of those ridiculously expensive, specially brewed coffees that my younger sister, Sarah, is always going on about.
“What’s ya’ orda’?” is the curt response from the haggard and clearly overworked employee.
“Could I please have a grande, no-whip mocha, with an extra pump of mocha? Thank you,” the voice says pleasantly, undeterred by the cashier’s borderline rudeness.
I smile. I love a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. Flighty, air-headed, and indecisive woman drive me bat-shit crazy. I may like control—mostly during sex—but it’s sexy as hell when a woman knows what she wants, and that I’m the only one that can give it to her.
Especially, when it comes in such a sweet, polite package as the woman standing in front of me seemingly is. She’s young, probably early twenties, and has a mass of light brown ringlets falling haphazardly down her back. My hand itches to reach out and touch one of her glossy curls. To see if they are as soft and springy as they look.
Quickly scanning her body from the back, I can’t make out much of her figure. Most of it is hiding underneath a long, black down jacket, and the wildly bright purple bag hanging off her shoulder. The sight of her black, slightly heeled boots peeking out from the bottom of her coat make me grin.
Sexy. Classy. Fucking hot.
The boots give her a little more height. My guess is that in bare feet, she’d come up slightly above my chin. She’d fit perfectly in my arms. I shake my head, attempting to clear my daydream.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Here’s hoping this mystery woman has a double-bagger face, or else I’m fucked. Which would honestly make for a nice change.
“Name?”
“Nina,” answers the sweet, friendly voice.
“That’ll be three sixty-nine.”
After Nina pays, by scanning the app on her phone, she says cheerfully, “Have a great day.”
“Next!” The barista says loudly, ignoring her friendliness once again.
As she moves off, I step forward and go through the motions of ordering. My thoughts, however, are on the woman standing by the counter across the room, currently waiting for her drink.
What is it about her?
After spending a small fortune for a grande specially brewed Clover coffee, I make my way through the crowd toward the counter to wait for my order. I soon find myself standing next to the mystery woman, Nina.
“Good mornin’,” she says, turning and flashing me the brightest, most beautiful smile I have ever seen.
Fuck! There goes the hope of her being fugly.
It’s not that her perfectly shaped mouth turns up, showing just the right amount of teeth, or that her green eyes sparkle and crinkle warmly. It’s the fact that her whole being seems to shine, like I’m staring at the sun, and it’s momentarily stunning me. It’s like I’ve suddenly come out of some bizarre sexual hibernation. I can breathe again.
Fu-uck!
“Hello,” I answer brightly, maybe a little bit too brightly. I’ve probably come off sounding like an overeager puppy.
Midway through what I’ve been told is a nervous habit of mine, I realize I’m tucking my long hair behind my ears. I know I’m staring. Grinning like a manic, and probably frightening her, I’m looking at her like I’m suddenly—awake.
Maybe for the first time in years.
Read the rest of FINDING SUNSHINE now.
Acknowledgements
A special thank you to my editors Jasymn and Came
ron, who helped me polish this novel. Their insights were invaluable in helping me tell Xavier and Lily’s story.
I would also like to thank my entire family, for their continued love and support. It means the world to me to have their encouragement.
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About the Author
Rene Webb, a former Catholic schoolgirl and child of the ‘80’s, is a recovering soap opera addict who grew up watching General Hospital. She became weary with the relentless drama and sought out stories with happy endings that lasted. Now, Rene is an erotic romance author, where there is always a happily-ever-after!
Growing up in New England, Rene spent her childhood playing make-believe, acting out stories with her Barbies, Legos, My Little Ponies, and Playmobile. She has since taken to writing down the dramas that invade her mind.
Authors such as Jane Austen, Kristen Ashley, Cherise Sinclair, Sierra Cartwright, Donna Fletcher, Laura Kaye, and Bianca Giovanni have inspired her. They all create strong female characters, swoon-worthy men, and stories that leave their readers with the hope that you, too, will find your own H.E.A.!
When Rene’s characters aren’t talking to her, she enjoys reading, seeing movies, going to museums, and spending time with her friends and family.
Rene lives in Northern Virginia.
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