Make Me Yours
Charity Ferrell
Contents
Also by Charity Ferrell
Make Me Yours
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
POP ROCK
Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Acknowledgments
Connect with Me
Copyright © 2017 by Charity Ferrell
All rights reserved.
www.charityferrell.com
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, places, and incidents are either product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Also by Charity Ferrell
Pop Rock
Bad For You
Beneath Our Faults
Karma
Breaking Karma
Pretty and Reckless
Stepbrother Aflame
Make Me Yours
Stella
Love sucks hard.
Which is why I’ve sworn it off.
No men. No relationships. No sex.
Killing it with my career is my new orgasm.
That's my plan ... until he walks through my door and takes the open position of being my new bodyguard.
He's callous but gentle.
Dominating yet makes me feel safe.
He's a small town boy. The opposite to my LA life.
We shouldn't be drawn to each other.
Hudson
Stella Mendes is not my type.
And being her bodyguard is the last job I want to take when I come home from my second deployment.
I sure as hell don’t want to live with her.
I’m doing it as a favor for my brother while he takes care of his sick wife.
I'm expecting a spoiled Hollywood princess when I walk through the door.
Damn, am I wrong.
She has a smart mouth and a killer body.
The perfect amount of sass to bring a man to his knees.
And I'm that man falling.
We promise to keep our distance, but there's no stopping what's happening behind closed doors.
One of us is willing to rip it down and risk it all.
The other isn’t.
Chapter One
Hudson
“Save it. That shit is your gig, not mine.” I’m staring at my older brother wondering when he lost his damn mind.
“You’ll be doing me a huge favor,” Dallas pleads.
“You want me to wash your panties? Sure. You need me to get rid of your old-school nudie mags so Lucy doesn’t find out you were a little perv back in the day? I got you. Those are favors. What you’re asking me is more than that, and you fucking know it.”
“Come on. You’re overreacting.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t withstand two tours overseas to come home and play bitch to some spoiled Hollywood princess.” I busted my ass in Marine training. I’ve slept in the shittiest conditions you could think of and witnessed shit I’d give my left nut to un-see. There’s no way following around some fancy-ass, high-maintenance chick is going to be my next job. My voice hardens. “Hell, I’ve only been home three hours after a nine-month deployment and this is the first conversation we have? You offering me some bullshit job you know I’d never take?”
“You’ll be her bodyguard, not her bitch.”
“Either way, I respectively decline.”
“She’s not as bad as you think.” I snort. “Do it for me. Please. You know I’m going through hell right now. It’ll give me one less problem to worry about.”
I hold up my hand to interrupt him. “Nu-uh, don’t you dare try to pull that shit.”
“What shit?”
“The empathy hook you’re trying to sink into me that’ll make me look like a heartless bastard if I don’t let you reel me in.” I have sympathy for him. I’d trade places with him and take over the pain he’s been stabbed with in a goddamn heartbeat if I could.
“Is it working?” He chuckles at my irritation. “Look, I’ve been her security guard for the past five years. She wasn’t only a damn good employer but also a friend who didn’t have to help with Lucy’s medical bills or give me paid leave to be with my family. I want to give back and make sure she’s protected, and last I heard was that they hadn’t found anyone qualified enough to take my place. That’s why I suggested you.”
“How about you un-suggest me?”
He drags his hand through his shaggy brown hair. “What’s your plan then, huh? The pay is better than anything you’ll find here in Bluebeech. Make some fast cash, come home, and put a down payment on a house. You can quit as soon as they hire someone else. You have my word.” I sit there, s
ilently thinking, and he stretches forward to punch me in the arm. It barely feels like a bee-sting. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important to me.”
I lean back in the chair at his kitchen table and focus on him. Dark circles are riding underneath his sunken eyes. Stress lines that didn’t exist when I left months ago stretch along his mouth. He’s hurting, hovering near the edge of giving up. He’d once been the life of the party, but now all that’s left of him is the fear of losing the woman he loves too early. As a brother, I have to pull my shit together, put my pride and apprehension aside, and do this.
They caught his wife’s breast cancer too late. It had already spread to other organs, and the doctors aren’t sure how much time she has left. It can be a year … or six months. Telling someone you don’t know how long they have to live, especially when they know it’s going to happen, is a total mind fuck to everyone involved. It’s like playing a game of Russian Roulette that you know you’re going to lose.
Lucy is only thirty-one, and her diagnosis was a shock to everyone. My brother wanted to be there for her, so he quit his job as head bodyguard for Stella Mendes and came home.
“Fine,” I draw out. “I’ll do it.” I pause, holding up a finger. “But only on one condition.” He raises a brow, waiting for me to go on. “This is only temporary. Two months. That’s my cut-off, and I’m not kidding, so they need to get their asses on finding a replacement.”
He blows out a ragged breath. “Thank you.” He squares his shoulders back. “Your flight leaves in the morning, FYI.”
“What the hell? You’ve already booked my flight?” He nods. “What would you have done if I said no?”
“Have Lucy ask you.”
“You play fucking dirty.” It was one thing arguing with him, but there was no way that’d happen with Lucy. I would’ve caved in seconds.
“I also figured it would get you out of town so shit can cool down for a minute. Win-win.”
“I don’t need to let shit cool down.” My muscles tense as I hold back my rage. This conversation pisses me off more than the job offer.
He gives me a stern look. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
“I’m not going there.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That shit is off limits right now, you hear me?”
“I understand, brother. I’d be one furious motherfucker, too.”
There’s no missing the curious stares that trail me when I talk through the beat-up door of The Down Home Pub, the hot spot in town if you’re craving a beer and a good time, or wanting to drown your sorrows on a budget.
It’s where I got shitfaced on my twenty-first birthday. It’s also where I got my first beer from at thirteen. Not because they illegally served minors, the owner’s son stole a case for us, and we spent the night chugging the cheapest shit they serve in my family barn. I got a good ass whooping when we got busted. It was worth it, though.
Ass whoopings come and go, but memories stay with you forever. Good memories will always conquer the bad – at least that’s what I used to think, but my optimism has been sinking into the gutters lately.
Fuck positivity is my current motto.
Dallas forced me to come out and have a drink with him – a pick me up for the both of us, is what he called it. My dumbass should’ve known it’d be more than grabbing a quick beer and shooting the shit.
A blue banner is hanging across the front of the bar with the words Welcome Home Hudson painted across it in white. The pub is packed with familiar faces – ones I’ve known for as long as I can remember. A year ago, I would’ve loved a homecoming like this, but facing these people isn’t something at the top of my to-do list now. It’s floating near the bottom, right before being water boarded.
I’ve lived in Bluebeech, Iowa my entire life. It’s a small town where everyone knows everyone’s business. People say that about all small towns, but Bluebeech is the real deal. These people knew my fiancé was fucking around on me and planning a wedding with my best friend on our scheduled date before I did. News doesn’t travel as fast as word of mouth when you’re overseas with limited communication.
Cameron sent me one of those bullshit Dear John letters. Every word I read was like a stab in the gut. I ripped the paper up and burnt the pieces, along with our relationship, while the guys patted me on the back. The destruction of relationships and marriages are a regular occurrence in the military life. I’d been just another statistic.
I grunt but smile at the same time Dallas shoves a beer in my hand. I chug half of it down in one go, savoring the bitter yet delicious taste of malted barley before I even make it to the bar. I slap my hand down on the counter, telling the bartender we’re ready for another round, and carry the bottle with me while moving around the bar to thank everyone for coming.
I don’t want to socialize. I see the pity on the faces around me, but my momma would have my ass if I acted like an ungrateful dick. I have manners in public but am crazy as hell everywhere else.
A group of guys I played football with in high school is huddled around a table, their wives next to them, and I stroll their way. I’m stopped before I make it by someone sticking their foot out to trip me.
They fail, but I’m pissed.
What the fuck?
I turn around, ready to take my anger out on the jackass, but that outrage dissipates when I see her.
“Well if it isn’t the biggest asshat in the world. Sorry, I’m late. The hospital has been a madhouse with women popping out babies like the female population is about to go sterile,” Lauren, my younger sister, says, attempting to wrap her short arms around me in a hug.
I chuckle and pat her dark hair when she pulls away. “No biggie. I got here a few minutes ago – only because Dallas dragged me out of the house with his bullshit lies.”
She grins from ear to ear. “I’ve missed you. Guys aren’t scared to mess with me when you’re gone. I’ve had to resort to my pepper spray and AK-47.”
“Liar, you don’t own an AK-47.”
“I know, but doesn’t it sound badass when I say it? You should probably buy me one.”
“I’m never buying you a gun. Knowing you, you’d end up shooting some poor motherfucker that says the wrong thing to you.”
She laughs in agreement. “You know the tempers of the Barnes family isn’t one to be reckoned with.”
I didn’t want to come home and face the people of this town. I even considered traveling for a few months, but damn it does feel good to be back. No matter how much bad shit has happened here in the past few months, there’s still no other place I’d rather be. I’m glad I decided to come out instead of sitting in Dallas’ basement drinking away my sorrows.
That contentment only lasts twenty minutes and another beer in. I’m finally starting to relax while listening to Lauren divulge her latest dating fail with a doctor who forgot to mention the fact that he was married when it happens.
She stops mid-conversation and slams her drink onto the table with so much force I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. “I can not believe that son of a bitch and hussy would show their faces here.” I look away from her fuming face to what has her attention. “Everyone in this god forsaken town knows what’s going on here tonight.”
My hands go numb, and I nearly drop my beer as the taste of bile swims up my throat.
The bar goes silent.
Even the jukebox decides to cut off for the ensuing shit show.
I shift in my seat in an attempt to cool the fury crackling through me like a lit match.
There she is.
Cameron Pine.
My ex-fiancé.
The woman who decided I wasn’t worth the wait.
And she’s headed straight in my direction with the asshole she left me for.
She’s straight-faced, completely void of emotion, and her curly blonde hair is swept back into a tight ponytail, showing off her elongated face. Her lips are a cherry red – once my favorite look on her. She’s s
tained my dick with that exact color so many times she used to buy it in bulk. I loved when she’d mark me like that. She’s wearing a denim skirt, a flannel button-up showing plenty of cleavage – the same one she wore the night I proposed. She might’ve fucked me over, but that still doesn’t stop me from thinking she’s fucking breathtaking.
I move my gaze from her to something not so beautiful – a sight so fucking rancid it makes my stomach churn. Grady is the best friend who took my asking to watch over her too damn literal. I wanted him to make sure she was safe, not keep her pussy warm for me.
“She better not come over here, or I will find an AK-47 and run her ass out of this bar,” Lauren spats. My sister is loyal to a fault. She and Cameron had been best friends since elementary school, but she burned all ties and threatened to kick her ass on multiple occasions when she found out about the affair. Even now, I’m not sure if Lauren can keep her cool and not try to choke slam Cameron and Grady.
“I swear I had no idea they were coming,” Dallas rushes out as he makes his way back to our table, catching his breath. He went out back ten minutes ago to call Lucy and Maven to check up on them. “They sure as hell weren’t invited.”
“Unless I plan on moving out of Bluebeech, running into them is bound to happen,” I reply, wanting to storm out of here before I do something that’ll get me arrested. “She wasn’t happy with me and chose to be with someone who could give her that nine-to-five, at the dinner table every night husband. I wasn’t that man.”
Even after what she did, I don’t hate Cameron.
Yet, I’m fucking livid with Grady. It takes two people to have an affair, I’m well aware, and it’s wrong for me to place all of the blame on him, but I don’t want to put it on the woman I’ve loved for over a decade.
The bar is silent while everyone watches the two get closer. “Hudson,” Grady says when he reaches us. He looks stressed … scared in a way, and I don’t blame him. “Can we talk?” Cameron is behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder while she looks over it at me.
“You need to leave, asshole,” Lauren demands. “And take that cheating skank with you.”
“Lauren is right,” Dallas cuts in. “You two have some nerve showing up here. Let’s not make this uglier than it has to be.”
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