Secondhand Sapphire: Hopeless Heritage, #1

By Nicole Tillman

Sapphire has come to grips with the fact that she's a failure as a wife and an even bigger failure as a mother. Resigning herself to a life of simple detachment, she lives by one rule- No men.
That is, until she meets Collin. He is able to see past her inked skin, her pierced features, and her hardened heart. He is determined to worm his way into her life, even if she pushes him away at every turn.
But once her defenses are lowered, she remembers exactly why she erected them in the first place. She fears loss. She knows that the world is a dark, unforgiving place and doesn't need another reason to be angry.
Can she open herself up and take a chance on someone who could eventually leave? Or will she run from from her fear of inevitable failure?
As she is tested time and time again, she realizes that she does have a sliver of control over the things that happen in her life. Not everything is predestined and doomed to fail. Or so she hopes...
At the precipice of a most important decision she wonders if she has the courage to step back into the roles she once failed to fill. She is tired of living with only rubble and destruction to keep her company and is faced with only two options.
She can fall, relinquishing her fate to the control of someone else.
Or she can jump.

Note: All books in the Hopeless Heritage series are stand-alone novels, but characters from other books will make appearances. Also, these books are contemporary romances with strong language and sexual content not intended for readers under the age of 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Tillman
• Release date: Aug 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781507002292

Nicole Tillman

Nicole Tillman is an author who hasn't always had a love of reading. As a child, she struggled to string words together and would hide in the back of the classroom with her head down in hopes that the teacher would forget she existed. Eventually, she was introduced to a young adult series by a family friend and her love of reading bloomed. Nicole now weaves her own stories, content to lose sleep in order to write both contemporary romance and thriller/suspense novels. She lives in the Ozarks of Missouri with her husband, two sons, and two dogs. Nicole has an Associates Degree in General Studies though Missouri State University and was on her way to completing her Bachelors in Creative Writing when she decided to take a sabbatical to focus on work and her family. Now a stay at home mother, she dedicates her time to her boys, writing, and photography.

Book preview

Chapter One

––––––––

One tiny flutter.

That's all it took for me to fall headlong, face-first, uncontrollably in love with the tiny life blossoming inside me.

Come here! Todd! Come here! Feel this!

Todd lumbered across the room in no particular hurry.

What am I supposed to be feeling?

Put your hand right here. Feel that? I asked excitedly. Do you feel her moving?

Todd paused, his hand resting on my barely swollen abdomen.

I don't feel anything.

My lip trembled as he jerked his hand back and left the room.

*****

Whoa, Sapphire. Where'd you go on me?

What? I snapped my attention back to the present and tried to focus on my roommate and best friend Claire.

I said, do you want another drink? I'm heading up to the bar.

I pushed the memory I had gotten lost in to the back of my mind as I handed Claire my empty glass.

Hit me, I said with a smile.

Attagirl!

I watched Claire do her best sexy-walk up to the bar, catching the attention of a small crowd of men.

You okay? Penny asked.

We were supposed to be celebrating. The three of us always used that one day a year as an excuse to drink too much, dance with strangers, get lost on our way home- basically be reckless and stupid in any form we could manage. The tradition had started on the anniversary of my divorce, or D-Day, as my two friends and roommates referred to it. It had been three years and the tradition was holding strong.

The D-Day celebration was the one day a year my friends made me remember my failed marriage. For the rest of the three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year, I managed to keep everything; my thoughts, my emotions, my painful memories, under complete control. But for that one day, I would unlock Pandora's box and let my grief overwhelm me, just so I could temper the sting with cheap vodka and a stranger's admiration for one short night.

Penny cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

Sapphire, it's been three years. You've worked through your grief, your anger, your disappointment... It's time to move on.

Penny and Claire knew my story better than anyone, even my former husband. I knew when Penny said I needed to move on, it wasn't from Todd. It was from everything that had caused my marriage to come crashing down around me.

I nodded. I know. I'm working through it.

Claire's arm appeared over my shoulder. Well, this should help.

She lowered first one, then two shot glasses to the table in front of me.

Drink up!

The girls both raised their fruity drinks up in a toast as I pounded back the first shot. I didn't need liquid courage. I needed liquid oblivion. I needed to escape.

I held the second shot up with my friends. It was customary that they both make some kind of heartfelt toast to the evening. Later, when we were back in our apartment, I could fall apart in their arms as I recounted every agonizing detail of the events leading to my divorce.

Tonight, I raise a toast to strong women. And, Sapphire, you are the strongest one I've ever known. One day, you'll get your second chance, and I know you'll hold onto it with everything you've got. To bad bitches! Claire shouted.

Classy, Penny scolded as she took a drink. Claire just shrugged one silk-clad shoulder.

Well, I would like to toast worthless men, Penny started. Without them, we wouldn't know the real thing when it came along. And one day yours WILL come along. And he will blow every other man before him out of the water.

Here, here! Claire cheered before taking a dainty sip of her daiquiri.

It was sweet of them, really it was, but I didn't feel strong and I couldn't care less about all the men who may or may not be coming along in the future. There was only one thing, one person, my mind was focused on. And I would have been lying if I said that person didn't seep into every other aspect of my life. D-Day was supposed to be the one day I mourned for everything I'd lost, but the truth was, it never left me. Every second of every day, I lived with the what-ifs, the maybes, and the what-could-have-beens. But on D-Day, I was allowed to mourn. And I did. With gusto.

Thanks, guys. I threw back my remaining shot and eyed the pitcher of beer sitting at a neighboring table.

Claire stood, drink in hand, and headed back to the bar. I'll tell the bartender to keep 'em coming.

I could have kissed her. She knew exactly what I needed. They both did. They understood. I wasn't sure if they ever talked about what had happened behind my back. It was possible that when I wasn't around, the conversation moved to those grueling months. I hoped that wasn't the case, but either way, I loved them for everything they had helped me through and I knew I wouldn't be here today, slowly killing my liver, if it weren't for them.

Okay, it's time for the main event! Claire cheered, clapping her hands like a five year old.

I groaned. Every year, my two friends would try to hook me up with a handsome, available man. The first year was humiliating and the second was downright hilarious. I knew I was pretty, in an understated way. But I no longer resembled the woman Todd had married.

I had always been short, so short I could easily get lost in a crowd, but something about the contrast of my features made me stand out. My long dark hair, my fair skin, and my blue eyes all combined to achieve a desirable effect. But after leaving Todd, I had fallen into a dark chasm of confusion and unrest. I experimented with every aspect of my life, including my image. Now, instead of long flowing locks and longer flowing dresses, everything I owned was short. I had chopped my hair off into a spiky pixie cut, traded in my demure dresses for risque denim skirts, and had turned my body into a canvas.

I knew no boundaries when it came to tattoos and piercings. If it had meaning, if the sting or vibration of the needle could ground me for just a few moments, I was game and it showed. Most people didn't understand the quotes, the symbols, the beautiful murals etched across my skin. But I did. And that's all that mattered.

What about that one? Penny tried to covertly point across the room to a man who had just as many piercings and just as many tattoos as I did.

Nope.

Penny and Claire both glared at me. And why not? He's obviously your type.

I huffed in annoyance and broke it down for them.

Okay, for one, you guys obviously don't know my type. And two, look at his tattoos. He has more skulls than I can count and that, I said, honing in on the barbed wire around his wrist. That is a prison tat. No way, José. And three, well, he has more product in his hair than I do. Not happening.

Seeing the thug in a whole new light, they moved on.

What about the suit at the bar? Penny said, her gaze traveling across broad shoulders sporting a charcoal-gray jacket.

As Mr. CEO turned to leave the bar with his drink, we all caught sight of his face and immediately turned away.

Gay! We all yelled in unison.

We had spent enough time in bars, enough time in big cities, that our collective gaydar was spot-on. 

What about him? Claire jerked her head in the direction of the back corner of the bar.

A lone man, roughly five years my senior, sat alone at a booth, nursing what looked to be his fourth beer. As I glanced over, he removed his ball cap to reveal a head full of shaggy brown hair. The shadow masking his face made it hard for me to make out his eye color, but I could tell that he was brooding. His athletic shoulders were hunched forward, radiating a very definite 'fuck-off' vibe.

Uh, I don't think so.

What? Is he not your type either? Penny said, not bothering to hide her irritation.

"I don't think I'm his type. Actually, I don't think anyone here is his type. He obviously wants to be left alone."

You don't know that! Claire said, eye-banging him from across the room. Go talk to him. Maybe he's just waiting on a pretty girl to strike up a conversation.

I very highly doubt that. I've seen porcupines who looked more inviting.

Just go! Claire wasn't giving up.

Penny joined her, all but pushing me off my bar stool and into the floor.

Alright, alright! A little less aggression would be nice. I smoothed my hands over my latest thrift store find and tried to come up with a good opening line.

Nothing.

No flirty banter, no lame excuse, not even a corny pick-up line.

Sauntering up to the booth, I opted for full disclosure.

Um, hello.

The shadowed stranger lifted his head to glare at me. I figured I had about two seconds to turn his frown upside down and I wasn't sure I was up to the challenge.

Okay, so, don't think I'm crazy. I really didn't want to come over here, but my friends aren't going to let me be until I talk to you.

He looked around my arm to glare at the two women gawking at him from across the bar.

And why is that? He said in a rumble that made my knees quiver.

Well, they think I need to be out here, I gestured nervously around the bar. Dating, sowing my wild oats, what have you. But honestly, that's the last thing I want to do. So, if you could just talk to me for a few minutes and then put on a show of letting me down gently, I think that would pacify them enough for the night.

He reared his head back, as if those were the last words he expected me to hit him with. The corner of his lips kicked up in the smallest of smiles as he scooted forward in his seat, moving his face into the light.

Aw, holy hell.

His kind hazel eyes caught me off guard. I expected flavorless brown eyes, or maybe cold blues. But no, I was hit with stunning chocolate browns under a layer of green sparks. His eyes were magnificent. The color, the depth, the substance. His eyes could unlock the secrets of the world...

"So, you don't think I'm attractive enough to actually hit on me." It was a statement, not a question.

What? No! I mean, yes! I mean... I stumbled over my words. That's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that.

The man whose name I still hadn't asked for shrugged as he swept an appreciative glance from my eyes, down my ample curves, and on down to my stiletto-clad feet. Judging from his smirk, he enjoyed the packaging.

Well, I'm a little insulted, he said, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms behind his head.

Holy Biceps, Batman...

I think you should apologize by sitting down and buying me a drink.

I eyed him skeptically. Or, as skeptically as I could while trying to memorize every detail of his face and, oh lord, that body.

That's kinda the opposite of what I set out to achieve here.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. My eyes narrowed on the tiny blue checkers dotting the material as I wondered what his skin felt like beneath his wrinkled shirt.

Yeah, well, your friends over there are eying you like a hawk. I'm pretty sure that blonde can read lips, so you might as well sit down and give them a show. Especially if you're going to blow me off at the end of the night.

I'm not blowing you off! I said, a little too forcefully. I'm just not interested in this whole dating scene.

You mean you're not interested in me, he said with a glint of challenge in his eyes.

I didn't say that. I just have zero interest in hook-ups.

His eyebrows shot up at my blunt confession.

Ah. So, your friends aren't really trying to find your Prince Charming. They're trying to get you laid.

I could feel the heat flooding my cheeks and hoped the dim lighting in the bar could mask the fact that his statement was spot on.

It's okay, he clarified with a sly smile. I won't ask you to come home with me. Just sit and have a few drinks. I'll keep my paws to myself. Scout's honor.

He wasn't what I had been expecting. I would have preferred to be shot down point blank. But the chink in his armor was somehow inviting and I found myself sliding onto the vinyl bench opposite him.

I'm Collin, by the way. He extended his hand and I accepted it without hesitation.

Sapphire.

I'm sorry, what? He said with the first full on, thousand-megawatt smile of the night.

Sapphire. Like, the stone. That was definitely not the first time my name had made someone do a double take.

Seriously? That's your real name?

Sadly, yes.

His eyes softened as he tilted his head to one side; taking me in, examining me.

I think that's a beautiful name.

Again, with the blushing. I thought my name was pretty, if not a little odd. I had never met my parents, but I knew that they had hung around long enough to name me the most difficult name for a child to spell. When I did happen to look back through some of my belongings from elementary school, I always got a good laugh. Safire. Sapfire. Saffiere. Finally in the third grade, it clicked.

Thank you. I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I used the generic fall back.

So, what brings you guys out tonight? It's a Thursday. Not exactly a party night.

Aaaaand here it goes...

Oh, nothing. We go out on this day every year, I replied, hoping he wouldn't push the ticket.

Wrong.

What's the occasion?

It's kinda dumb. We call today D-Day. It's the, uh, the anniversary of my divorce.

His eyes widened and he managed to barely suppress a laugh.

Aha. And, how many years has it been since the big day?

Three.

Wow. Three years? You don't look that old to me.

Of course I didn't. Because I wasn't that old. I was only twenty-four.

It was very short lived.

I'll say.

We were at a standstill. I really didn't know where to carry the conversation after that. I had revealed a tad too much and now he was probably laughing at me in his head.

"So, why are you here on a Thursday night?" I ventured, hoping to steer the subject into safer waters.

Bad day on the job. Needed to unwind.

Ah, and what do you do? I asked, finding I genuinely wanted to know more about this man's life outside of his taste in beer.

I'm in construction.

Of course. With a body like that...

A vision of Collin shirtless, hammering away at a nail in the bright sun wiggled its way into my mind.

That's nice. Because what else do you say when someone says they work in construction?

I guess. He downed the remainder of his beer and stood to retrieve another. Can I get you a drink?

I thought I was buying you drinks tonight. I said, knowing full-well he hadn't really been offended.

Next time, he winked. What's your poison?

Before I knew it, the MC was announcing it was last call. The night had completely slipped away from me. Collin and I had been talking and drinking for hours and although I wasn't completely shit-faced, I was finding it hard to operate through the fog of Jack, Jim, or José. I wasn't sure which. 

Collin seemed to be one-hundred percent non-affected by the amount of alcohol he had consumed. If I didn't know any better, I would have guessed he had been chugging non-alcoholic beer. The only difference I could pinpoint was the way he fell into a thick southern drawl as the night wore on.

So, do I at least get your number? He asked as we were righting ourselves to leave.

I thought about spinning around to face him, to see if he was being sincere, but didn't want to chance falling on my face.

Instead, I asked, Why? I told you I wasn't looking for a fling. The words sounded harsh, even to my whiskey-addled brain.

You know, it's a good thing you aren't into this whole dating scene. Because you suck at it.

I was well aware, but still, I turned to stare him down. I wondered what he wanted from me. I was a curvy, tattooed, pessimistic, smartass divorcée. Not exactly a big draw there.

I decided I didn't care. I programmed my number into his cell before he threw some bills down on the table.

Look, I had a nice time talking to you tonight. Maybe we could do it again sometime?

Sure, I answered, even though my inner voice was snarling, 'doubtful'.

I wasn't sure how to leave things, so I settled for a playful slap on the arm.

See ya around, Collin.

His hazel eyes locked onto my baby blues as he responded with confidence.

You certainly will.

Chapter Two

––––––––

I made my way back to our motel room we had always reserved for D-Day. It was cheap, worn down, and everything from the draperies to the bed ruffle sported some kind of questionable stain. The girls hated it.

I loved it. It was fitting. It resembled my marriage. Cold, dirty, and completely unimportant to everyone, even the inhabitants.

What the hell are you doing back? Claire spouted as I entered the room.

I sighed. You know, Claire, you should really break out your old etiquette book and study up on greetings.

To hell with etiquette! Why aren't you doing the horizontal jig with Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding? You really are the worst person to live vicariously through.

Uh, I would have to agree, I said, throwing myself down on the bed beside Penny and her open laptop.

Seriously, why are you back? Penny scowled.

Please guys, don't make me sleep in my car. Just drop it.

My eyes were closed but I could still feel the girls exchange a look.

Stop it.

Claire huffed as Penny sighed and that was thankfully the end of it.

Or so I thought.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and Penny lunged over me to retrieve it.

What the hell? Get your hand outta my pocket! I giggled even as I squirmed and slapped Penny, watching as Claire came in for the assist.

Somehow, Penny managed to grab my phone and lunge across the room, falling through the bathroom door but locking it behind her. I pounded on the door, not really caring she had my phone, just enjoying the drunken game.

Open this door right now!

Penny squealed, her voice muffled by the door. Just wanted to make sure you made it back safely. Collin! Ahh!

You little hussy! You gave him your number!

Claire playfully shoved me toward the bed, laughing as I tried to fight her off. It was no use. She easily had a good fifty pounds and four inches on me and was chock-full of energy from her sugary drinks.

Don't make me scream rape! I joked as she pinned my arms next to my sides.

"So what?