Prologue
Kara
One Week Earlier
“I’m fine, the doors are locked, the alarm is set, and I promise the softball bat is right next to me.
” I only got off the phone with our parents moments ago, reiterating the same sequence of events to my dad.
Now, I’m doing similar to my brother, he has enough to worry about than me moving out on my own.
It’s been years since the accident, and while I understand his concern, sometimes you have to let the past live in the past, where it belongs.
The last surgery on my leg was the final in my healing process, it also meant more physical therapy, and I’ve had so much of that in the past seven years I could be considered a professional at this point.
At least this time, my limp isn’t nearly as noticeable, and I’m not having to use a cane anymore.
The car accident left a lot of devastation and trauma.
We prevailed, and I say we because if it weren’t for my family rallying together, it could have been a lot worse.
That night, my niece lost her mother on the same day she was born, and my brother became a single father, which he would have been regardless.
Colt and Brooke were not destined to live in harmony, they were much better friends than lovers.
It still hit us all hard to know Nellie would have a life without her mother.
Then I went into surgery immediately, the hits kept hitting, and it wasn’t until this final one that I said enough is enough.
There was a chance this last one wouldn’t help my pronounced limp, where a cane was necessary, conquering stairs was excruciatingly hard, and by the end of the day, the only thing I could do was sit on my ass.
“Good, I’m not apologizing for worrying.
It’s what older brothers do, plus you sprung this on us at the last minute.
I barely had time to rally the guys to help move you, let alone have Jude set up the security system.
” I roll my eyes, Colt’s friends included like fifteen guys, and moving my meager belongings took roughly three hours.
I’d grumbled to my mom over how my older brother seems to have friends coming out of the woodwork, meanwhile, my best friend is my mom, Nellie, my niece, and now that Colt has Sable in his life, well, she’s definitely one of us, too.
“And I’m thankful, please don’t doubt that,” I say on a tired yawn.
I’m so exhausted after unpacking and putting things in their respective place that my talking is putting me to sleep.
Plus, I have a weighted eye mask that I can’t wait to put on and sleep for a solid twelve hours before my work week starts.
“I know you are, even if you weren’t, I’d have done it anyway. Alright, get some rest. I’ll text you tomorrow to see how your first night went. Love you, kiddo.” I roll my eyes. We’re only six years apart, but that still makes me younger than him.
“Goodnight, old man. I love you too. Try not to worry too much. I hear it causes gray hair and fine lines.” Colt grumbles when I bring up the bone of contention.
“You’ll pay for that, mark my words. The next time you’re near a pool, you'd better be on your A-game.”
“Be nice to Auntie Kara!” I hear my niece say in the background, glancing at the clock, and realizing I’m in bed before eight o’clock at night.
Nellie is still awake, and here I am, showered, in bed, and about to put on the weighted eye mask she gave me as a moving present well before my seven-year-old niece's bedtime.
“Yeah, you tell him, Nellie girl. Okay, guys, I love you, but I really need some sleep if I’m going to not be a zombie tomorrow for work.
” My job isn’t anything inspiring or glamorous, to say the least. It pays the bills, and they allow me to use my time off when necessary.
And boy, has it been used as much as possible the past few years.
Honestly, now that I’m locked into my apartment and have done the whole verifying of income, coming up with deposits for everything: the small two-bedroom place where my head is currently lying, power, and water.
The only problem with switching jobs is what I do next. It’s not like I have a career in mind, and I’m pretty sure my crafting hobbies aren’t going to pay the bills without hustling while working a job too. Damn, if only I’d listened to my parents and brother.
“Kara, you good? You went quiet on me.” I’m mulling over whether I should even bring this up or not. I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.
“Yeah, um. I know you have someone coming in a couple of times a week to do the books for Barlow’s. Do you think maybe if she decides to quit, I can work there?” Colt bought the auto repair shop from our parents before Nellie was born, and since then, it’s only become more successful.
“Thank christ, Kara. Only been wanting you to come to work there for years now. When can you start?” This is why I’ve held off as long as I have, I didn’t want someone to lose their job.
“Well, I mean, I don’t want to take someone’s bread and butter. Plus, I’d have to turn in my two weeks’ notice.” For someone who was ready to pass out, I sure did a one-eighty mighty fast. Which only means one thing: sleep isn’t going to come easy once this phone call is over.
“Cool, see you in two weeks. Maybe the office won’t be such a shit show, and I won’t have to deal with ordering parts.” And just like that, there’s no going backsies.
“Alright, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” I say on another yawn.
“Love you, Aunt Kara Bear!” Nellie says so loud, I wince. This is what I get for not putting my phone on speaker.
“I love you too, see you tomorrow.”
“Later, call me. Seriously, it doesn’t matter the time, I’m there.” Colt reiterates nearly verbatim what our dad said.
“I will, hopefully it won’t come to that though.” I plug my phone into the charger that I’ll place on my nightstand once our phone call is over.
“Same, night.”
“Goodnight, big brother.” We hang up, I double-check my alarm is set, turn off my bedside light, grab the remote, and make sure my fan is on high to drown out any of the noises that I’ll hear through the night.
It doesn’t matter the weather, cold or heat, the air conditioner blasting, or the heater on.
I need the moving air and the noise. The television is awesome, and I more or less get sucked into what’s playing, then sleep never comes.
Once I have everything ready, I put on my weighted eye mask, sink into my mattress, and hope that slumber takes hold.
I replay everything that’s happened the past couple of days, all of the planning, preparing, and then working tirelessly to make everything the way I want it.
My type A entered the chat, making resting impossible anytime I saw a box that needed to be unpacked, and then when my groceries were delivered.
I dealt with it all over again, this time by myself, since everyone had left for the evening.
When I sent Mom a text with the mountains of bags I placed, she laughed, and Dad went into overprotective mode, a lot like Colt did tonight.
I held him off, barely, and worked my way through the mess.
My eyes slowly become heavy, the crisp, cool sheets, the thick and plush patchwork quilt that my mom handed down to me, an heirloom from my grandmother, and the noise of the whirring fan lulls me to sleep.
I roll over on my side, putting my hands in a prayer-like pose, letting out another yawn when a loud, shrilling voice.
I sit straight up, ripping the eye mask off my face, “What the hell was that?” I flip the light on, looking every which way, ready to figure out why I would hear people in my room. I adjust to the brightness, feeling like I’m losing it, when it happens again.
“Oh, dear god, my neighbor must be deaf.” My ears perk up at hearing a squall, a few moments later, and I realize it’s none other than I Love Lucy.
I vividly remember watching reruns of this show growing up, and it seems now I get to listen to it in my dreams. I turn my fan up to the highest setting, get back into bed, turn the light off again, and this time, even my mask isn’t doing me any magical tricks.
I’m apparently up for the foreseeable future.
**
My alarm blaring after what felt like only falling asleep for two minutes, I’m exhausted, looking like what the cat dragged in, and am ready to bang on my neighbor's wall only to give them a dose of their own medicine. Except I’m not an asshole, and while all I can think about is my lack of sleep, I’m also riddled with worry about what’s happening on the other side of my wall.
I’m walking to my car, firmly in my thoughts, sipping on my extra-strong, extra-bold brewed cup of coffee with more creamer than necessary, but that’s what happens when sleep deprivation kicks in.
What I’m totally unprepared for is the man I see walk toward me, the sip I was about to take is no longer a concern.
I’m no longer drowsy and concerned about looking for a place to lay my head.
Nope, I’m wide awake and looking at a man who lives in the same apartment complex, or at least I hope he does, because seeing him around would surely brighten my day.
The parking lot is packed full, the morning sun is shimmering off the cars, and it’s already starting to get warm this early in the day.
He walks toward me, allowing me the opportunity to take him in.
His jaw is strong, unmistakably rugged and masculine, dusted with dark stubble.
When his mouth curves slightly upward—not quite a smile, but the slight hint of one, like he can read my mind or something.
His eyes meet mine, catching the light from the sunshine, steady, intent, and a warmth that settles in my lower abdomen.
Our gazes lock, and his light green eyes meet my hazel.
His clothes are faded and worn, pulling tight across his broad shoulders and powerful chest. The few buttons at the top are undone, showing off his throat and upper chest, causing my eyes linger there a smidge longer than I mean them to.
The jeans he’s wearing sit low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs that look more than capable of carrying his fair share of weight.
I tell myself, this is only a figment of my imagination, it’s the haze of sleeplessness sucking me in, and then the deep rasp of his voice says, “Mornin’ ma’am.” Adding a tip of his head and stirring a swirling sensation right between my thighs.
“Oh, hi. Good morning,” I reply, hoping I didn’t sound like a bumbling idiot. He shoots a wink my way, saunters past me, and I guess my morning is turning right side up with the eye candy I hope I get to see daily.