Grounded

By Nicky Jayne

Dealing with the loss of the one she called a friend.

While Willow tries to balance her life as well as the lives of others, it proves to be more than her young heart can take. Braving each day she sets out to find a glimmer of peace, trying to fall back into some sort of familiarity as she searches for the one who has captured her heart.

Parker, once a ladies man, puts all that he is used to behind him in search of her heart. Her body drives him. His eyes capture her. But like most good things, they come to an end, as Willow and Parker's past comes crashing into their futures. Can they fight their past demons and move forward? Or will their pasts forever hinder their happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicky Jayne
• Release date: May 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9789781499609

Book preview

To my Father,

Thank you for always being there.

Thank you for raising me to be the woman I am today... Without your guidance and patience, I would surely not be as strong as I am today.

I love you more than words can express.

I love you Popsicle.

.

From start to finish, the ride you're on with Parker & Willow is one you'll never forget. My favorite Nicky Jayne book so far, as usual she never disappoints!

C. Booth

Nicky Jayne has done it again with Grounded! It's a page turner keeping you on the edge of your seat wanting to find out what happens next! I could not put this one down!

Michelle Holloway, Book Worms United

Grounded was one of the best, it had action, deceit and a start of a new love for Parker and Willow. Can't wait to find out what happens next! Still want more naked Parker!

A. Crull

This is another winner from Nicky Jayne. Grounded is an amazing continuation of the deception series full of romance and mystery. True to form this was an emotional read that will keep you at the edge of your seat!

A. Marie

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Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

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

Epilogue

Forgiven

More titles by Nicky Jayne

Dreamer

I have met so many amazing people on this journey, I am floored daily by the love that they show me. Thank you all so very much.

Erinn....... It’s a true honor to call you friend. Thank you for all that you do. Thank you for being one kick ass editor, one who is not afraid to kick my tosh when I need it. I appreciate you more than you will ever know.

B.J..... Miles separate us but raunchy hot Sean scenes bond us. I love you lady, thank you for always being there when I need you the most.

Betas... Oh my darling betas how I love thee.... Your crazy comments, your threats of gator bait make me smile but most of all the amount of love and time you share with me to make the books the best they can be mean more to me than anything. I love you all dearly <3

Mike... It’s been a process but we are finally there. Thank you for all that you have done. I look forward to working with you again real soon. <3

Sloan... Pimp that book... LOL!! Love you babe, thank you for everything you have done. Thank you for being there when I needed you the most.

Cassandra... My 3am skyper, My HAVE YOU FINISHED THE BOOK YET? gal, My HOLY CRAP did you watch Game of Thrones? junkie. You are one of the best ladies I know. I can’t wait to see you. Love ya.

My sisters.... Isabella Rae and Tracy Lee, we have come so far. You are more than friends to me, you are family. Sisters of my heart forever. .

Parker

To hold her is to love her, to feel her body beneath mine is to claim her. To feel the warmth of her breath on my skin is to relish in all that she can give me. I want nothing from her other than her heart. I want to feel it beat for me; I want to feel the rush of warmth pass over her skin as she thinks of me.

To hear her whisper my name in the wind as I please her beyond all imagination. To feel the sting of her nails running down my back as I make her mine, the sensation of filling her to her very core.

She is all I think about. My body craves her, my eyes seek her with every step that I take. My mind builds memories of her that I could only wish for.

I swear here and now; I will make her mine.

Parker

My name is Parker Davis, and this is my story. It’s not so much of a story really, more like an account of a long line of fuck ups starting the day I was born. I came into this world like any other child, kicking and screaming, letting the whole world know I was here, and dragging the reasonably normal people who made me to their very knees.

Looking down at their child, with love and compassion, they saw a child, a small infant, with the ability to do what they could never undo, a son who would take life by the balls and make it a better place. Isn’t that what every parent wants for their child? The chance to right the wrongs of not only themselves but the world in which they live?

As luck would have it, or bad luck you could say, I am not that child, and for all intents and purposes, I am not that man. No. I am the world’s largest fuck up. As a grown man, I am the epitome of all things parents hate and steer their innocent young daughters away from. Money has been my drug of choice, feeding and fueling the inner desires of a man who has more than his fair share to play with. Does it satisfy me? No! The money itself does not, but what it can buy, does. The skin of a woman who has no ties, no need for me other than to line her pockets is all that it gives. The more successful I become, the more money I find, earn, and squander. The pleasantries of cash, however, are often accompanied by a dimension of rivaling unpleasantness. Fighting off those who want nothing more than to rip you from your birthright, to harness the one thing that keeps your bed warm at night, and see you equivalently desolate and broke is one of the most abhorrent forms of unpleasant.

There was a time, when the world seemed to fall out beneath me that I thought I could do better and make something of myself, but as with most things in my life, that thought dissipated faster than the morning fog. In fact, it came crashing down like a burning wreck in the middle of a freeway.

I can’t tell you when life took a turn for the worst, not the exact moment or the day, but what I can tell you is it was shortly after the lawyer came to the door. He stood there with such presence but his façade was impaled by his weasel attitude. I could see right through him. He didn't want to give me what he had in that brief case just as much as I didn't want to receive it. I didn't want the burden of money; I didn't want to feel the power it possessed.

His thick, grey duffel suit didn't move as the wind swirled in the doorway. His glasses sat on the tip of his nose, making his eyes seem larger and more bug-like than normal. Standing to the side as he followed Sharon down the long hallway leading to the living room and looking him up and down, I watched as he took large strides with a slight limp in his step. His whole persona put me on high alert. Sitting across the small but lengthy room, I watched as he pulled a mass of papers from his dark leather briefcase. I remember the look on Sharon’s face the moment he laid the case on the 1970s mismatched oak coffee and placed a copy of the papers in her hand. I watched the array of emotions washing over her face, only snapped out of my trance by large stack of papers plopped in my lap. My eyes fell to the documents, and zeroes danced around the room. Dollar signs landed on every inch of the furniture. What I could do with the money. You could say my eyes were too big for my wallet. With a little guidance from those who loved me and brought me in from the cold after my parents were killed, I made some wise choices. Although few and far between, they were smart, sensible, and ‘grown up" even, but I knew my life would never be the same.

I am Parker Davis, the only son of Michael and Rachel Davis, the only heir to a fortune that was well hidden. Today, I am the owner and CEO of P.D. Industries. I own a small garage, located at the back of my god parents’ café, specializing in classic car repair and, even more importantly, my own cars. I am a lover of all things that bleed speed. You could say I am addicted. I spend more time under or in one of my cars than I do at the one place that makes me the most money. With staff and the means to keep the mill running smoothly, I take the time, the time to be free.  One of the smartest decisions I made was buying the mill. We specialize in custom furniture, sending it anywhere, even overseas. It’s a great sense of pride to know that, somewhere, my name is stamped on something so insignificant yet necessary.

I am a business man. In some way, I was built, bred, and born into it.

That’s my image, that’s what I give off, or at least what I try to anyway. Nothing can break these defenses. No one can knock down the secure walls I have built around myself. You can have my money, a night of my affection if that’s what you really want, all the glitz, and the glam, but you will never have the real me. 

Only I know the truth. Somewhere, deep down, I know what I give off to others is a lie. No one knows the true me. I have never given anyone the chance to know the real Parker, to see what makes him tick. Money talks and money blinds. I have learned that deception is the only shield I have.

Until I met her.

Willow Crass was not like any other woman I had ever met, but her timing stunk. I fell into a depressive phase which took hold of me in more ways than one. I became a recluse, hiding myself away in my cabin for hours, days, even months on end, only leaving when I had to, and I mean HAD to. I moved out of the oversized, empty house my parents left me—it was too big for one person anyway—and found myself a little hideaway. Only a few people knew of its location, and even fewer people were welcome. Sharon would come by every couple of days, bringing me supplies and checking in on me. I made sure to always sit with my laptop poised on my desk, making out that I was working when, actually, I was just looking at long but forgotten memories of when times were better.

After losing Rebecca through no fault of my own, I became an outsider, angry, bitter, and unfriendly.  I treated Willow like she was no one other than a scavenger, digging and begging for attention, favors, or something that was not hers. I had no intention of getting to know her. She looked at me like I was a black fog, something that haunted her sleep.

I tried to stay away from her, I did, but seeing her lying in that hospital bed clicked something in my head, my frantic delusional brain. Embracing the newly found stalker personality, I followed her. I watched her enter her room. I knew where she was, but it wasn’t hard to find her. One thing I can say about Sharon is she is the gossip queen, not one to keep the latest scoop under wraps for long, and well, fuck if Willow’s arrival wasn’t the most obvious topic. A beautiful, blue-eyed girl comes into town. No one knows where she came from, but she obviously has something to hide. She is going to get noticed and gossiped about, and in a matter of days, Sharon and half of the town’s clean up committee will have her wedding planned and the name of her first baby.

The impulse to go and see her gets stronger and stronger as each moment passes, and then, as if fate would have it, an opportunity fell into my lap. A moment to save her from more than just herself, a moment to save her from the one she fears the most.

Had I known back then there was something tying us, and had I know back then that looking into those eyes of hers, feeling the warmth of her skin was like a drug, maybe I would have handled it differently. Wrapping her scared, shaking body in my arms, I took a jump, a blind leap into the life that I never thought was possible for me.

I am Parker Davis, the master of my own selfish world, and I am head over heels in love with Willow.

Parker

My train shuffles across the track behind me as I collect the mass of metal framed cars in front of me. I love my cars; every time Dad goes on a business trip, he brings me one back. I wait patiently for his return to see what he has for me next. Scooping a handful, trying to fit them all in my pocket, one falls to the floor, bouncing off the wooden surface. I freeze. Dad will come in now for sure. I am only allowed in the library if I am quiet, like tip-toeing mouse quiet.

Just as I think the coast is clear, my mom comes busting through the library door. Her heels click heavily on the wooden floor. She looks right at me but doesn’t say a word; I would expect her to come over, grab me by the hand, and pull me to his office, but by the look in her face, something isn’t right. I become scared. I can feel the heat flushing up to my cheeks. I feel as if I have a gobstopper stuck in my throat and I could throw up at any time.

Mom, I whisper.

Her hands are braced against the library door, trying to push the bolt lock into place, but she has a tough time.

Parker, come...here... and ... help... me, she says, drawing a long breath between each word.

Stumbling to my knees, my pocket of cars spills across the floor, each one scratching and bouncing to a resting place. Again, I freeze, searching my mother’s eyes. She smiles but only for a second before her eyes will me to hurry up.

Door locked, she pulls me to her lap and speaks softly as if nothing is wrong. I want to ask what has happened, what is happening, but it is not my place.

Shall we read a story son? she says, gently pushing my hair to the side of my head.

My mother’s touch has always been so soothing. Just the run of her fingers across my skin makes me feel so at home, so loved.

I may be only ten years old, but I know now that I want a wife like her. If I could marry her, I would. I want someone to greet me as I walk through the door, someone to love me, listen to my day, and no matter what I have done, still love me at the end of it, just like she does my dad. When he comes home, she sits and listens for hours. I am not allowed to listen. I have to wait my turn, of course. But he has done some bad things, he must have. Mother cries; Father yells. Yet, she still loves him. I want a wife like her.

Nodding into her hand, I rise and head to the large, soft-cushioned couch which sits in the corner of the room just below the large bookshelf. I have a line of books there, but when mother reads to me, she always reads one of her mystery books, a horror, or a sappy love story. The sound of her voice could put an angel to sleep, and I love it.

Pulling the knitted blanket from the corner of the room, I sit and wait for her to pick her book. Mother doesn’t take long; we are going to start from where we left off. Wuthering Heights.

I love you Parker, she whispers into my hair as we get comfortable. I smile at the feelings rested within my chest. Just as she starts to read, a large booming voice calls from outside the door. It’s my father; he has been home a couple of days, and they have been fighting more and more. A businessman has been here a couple of days too. I have yet to meet him officially, but I have seen him in the hallways and the dining room in the morning. Other than that, he has been in the study with my father. Mother is