Gambling With Love: Allenby Romance Series, #1

By Vicki Connellan

Tyler Gamble has been searching for his true love for years. He’s been searching for the girl who makes his lips tingle when she kisses him, like the way his lips felt when he kissed Natalie Hogan back in high school. There had been a few girls over the years, but none of them were right. They didn't make his pulse race, they didn't make his heart pound, but most of all, they didn't make his lips tingle. He’s starting to think that he’ll never find the girl for him, until Natalie came back into his life after ten long years and a stolen kiss on the sidewalk changes everything. The only trouble is, to Natalie Hogan, Tyler is a player. He’s the one who humiliated her and stole her teenage years. Could he win her trust again and make her see that its not a game, that this time he’s playing for keeps, or is it too big a gamble for Natalie to take?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vicki Connellan
• Release date: Oct 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9780995373020

Vicki Connellan

Vicki was born in Orange, NSW. When she was two years old her family moved to Dapto, a southern suburb of Wollongong. She was kicked out of pre-school at the age of four (for reasons that she will keep to herself).   When she was sixteen she moved with her parents and two sisters (Vicki is the typically misunderstood middle child) to the ACT where, ironically she studied Child Care so she could work in a pre-school. Now, at the age of 45 she still lives in Canberra with her husband and three adult/teenage children.   Vicki works full time (not in the child care industry!) and is an avid baker. She spends her time taxiing her kids around and baking cup cakes for all the kids who constantly fill the house.    Vicki has always enjoyed writing and is now taking the time to put her stories to print.  You can contact Vicki via email at [e-mail] with any questions or  feedback on her book.  If you enjoyed the book please take the time to leave a quick review. 

Book preview

About the Author

Vicki was born in Orange, NSW. When she was two years old her family moved to Dapto, a southern suburb of Wollongong.

When she was sixteen she moved with her parents and two sisters to the ACT where she studied Child Care.

Now, at the age of 46 she still lives in Canberra with her husband and three adult/teenage children. 

Vicki works full time (not in the child care industry!) and is an avid baker.

She has always enjoyed writing and is now taking the time to put her stories to print.

You can contact Vicki via email at

[e-mail] with any questions or

feedback on her books.

If you enjoyed the book please take the time to leave a quick review on the site you downloaded it from.

Acknowledgement

Fred, you are the best husband a girl could ever want. You’re amazing in every way, thanks for choosing me. After twenty-five years I still can’t believe how lucky I am.

The awesome kids are a bonus.

Kim, Rozzy and Deb you are simply the best editors and friends. You make me laugh all the time but mostly you make me want to keep writing. Thanks for all of your encouragement and feedback. Love you to bits girls, I’d be lost without you both.

Chapter 1

Natalie

Today was pretty much my most favourite day of the week. It was Friday afternoon, a pay week, and it was almost three o’clock according to the cake clock on the bakery wall. I hated that clock. It was tacky and hideous. Most things that Tiffany had done to the bakery since she became the owner were tacky and hideous. From the ugly cake clock, the change of name, from Gran’s Bakery to Tiffany’s, and the hideous new décor, it had been a downhill run since she inherited the bakery and decided to put her stamp on things. Seriously, the bakery had been called Gran’s Bakery for the last thirty years, everyone knew it as Gran’s, and now it was simply called Tiffany’s. Granted, no one expected to find an upmarket jewellery store on the main street in Winton, but it didn't stop some people getting confused. This only led to Tiffany changing the names of some of the cakes and pastries that our customers know and love. Like our humble Boston Bun, now known as the Queen’s Crown, or the meringues that were popular with little kids, now known as the family jewels. The woman had no idea.

Seriously, the woman was borderline insane. From the cubic zirconia all over her shoes to the fake pearls that she had glued all around the cake display cabinet, she was taking her name too far. But then again, her most favourite line was by my name alone I’m destined to be better than most. Stating that at our first staff meeting with her as manager had not won her any friends at all. Not that she would have kept them for long. The way she ran the business and bossed everyone around, she didn't ask you to do things, she ordered and demanded. And how far had that gotten her? From the original team that worked for Tilly I was the only one left, for now. Eight years of saving my butt off was about to pay off for me. I had enough money for the equipment that I’d need and enough to pay three staff for two months, hopefully by then the bakery, my bakery, would be turning a profit, or at least be making enough to sustain itself. All I needed was a suitable location. I had no doubt that I’d get the customers if I set up in Winton, it was just that there were no suitable locations available. There hadn’t been anything on the market for sometime.

Just after four we started the close-up routine for the day. I was looking forward to this weekend, my first weekend off in over a month. I’d be heading over to Allenby tonight to see Dad and staying for the weekend. It had been a couple of months since I’d seen him, it wasn’t that I was avoiding him, I was just busy, I’d been working most weekends. But I’d be over there this weekend, nothing would get in the way of that, especially now that Theresa was gone. She was the one thing that came between Dad and I. For the past ten years she’d done her best to drive a wedge between us, and for the most part she’d succeeded.

I thought about the day she told me to leave, the look on my dad’s face as he stood there and did nothing. I was mad as hell at him for that. I was sixteen years old and she kicked me out the day that she moved in. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that my father didn't fight for me. He believed her. He believed every word she said about me. It was Aunty Joan that took me in, and it was her who made me see that I should be mad at Theresa and not my father. He was stupidly blinded by love, just as her short skirts and her monstrous breasts had blinded him. He’d been lonely for so long and then she’d come along and flirted with him like he was the last man on earth. Of course he was going to choose her over me. He was still young, he still had needs. But she was gone now, run off with dad’s best friend. I kept mopping as I thought about that first phone call. He sounded so unsure, so quiet, like he was a shell of his former self. That was six months ago now, and it was a good two months after his call that I made the effort to go and see him. Not at his home above the workshop, I didn't want to go back there, to what had been our home. We met at the pub, had lunch, which bore more than a few awkward silences, then went our separate ways. He’d called me three times a week since that day and each time he sounded more and more hopeful that we’d be able to be close again. I hoped for that too, but it would take time.

Natalie, I put my head down and sighed as the shrill sound of Tiffany’s voice echoed through the empty shop. Natalie, she called again as she walked through from the kitchen at the rear of the building. I could hear her heals click clacking along the concrete floor as she got closer. Natalie, why didn't you answer me? she came to a halt at the edge of the tiled area that I’d just mopped. You need to work this weekend, my plans have changed and I’m going to the coast.

Sorry, I have plans too, I can’t work this weekend, I kept mopping and didn't look up at her. 

Excuse me young lady, but you are not the one to call the shots around here, you may have been able to push my grandmother around but I'm in charge now and I say you are working this weekend, she turned on her heels and stormed off with her nose in the air.

I’ll do a half day tomorrow but that’s it. I have plans too, I called to her. I didn't much care if she heard me or not. She could fire me if she wanted to. I hated it here anyway.

As soon as the floor was done I grabbed my bag and headed out. It was only a short walk from the main street to my pokey little flat and I had to walk past my two favourite restaurants on the way. Seeing as though I was no longer going to Dad’s for the night I grabbed some take out on my way past. As soon as I was on my way again I called Dad. Hey baby girl, are you still coming to spend the weekend? he sounded so hopeful.

Yes and no, I looked both ways then headed across the road. I have to work tomorrow morning so I was thinking that I’d come over as soon as I finish, we can still have the afternoon and night together then I’ll come back home on Sunday afternoon, does that suit you?

That’s fine love, what ever suits you is good for me. I’ll be at the garage working tomorrow but I’ll call it a day as soon as you get here, he sounded like he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure. Is it alright with you if I invite a friend to have dinner with us tomorrow night?

Ahh, so there it was. He had a new girlfriend that he wanted me to meet. I was so not up for this. You have a new girlfriend already? I tried really hard to keep the bitterness out of my words, but I don't think I succeeded.

What? he sounded shocked. No, no. I’m well and truly done with women. No, this is a friend of mine, Kenny, he’s my best mechanic. He’s been here for the past nine years and I’d love for you two to meet, is that okay? Of course if you’d rather it was just the two of us I understand, now he sounded totally unsure.

No that’s fine, I’d like to meet your friend, I fumbled with my keys and eventually let myself in. I should be there around three, there was that awkward moment of silence when neither of us knew if it was time to end the call. I’ll see you tomorrow Dad.

I’m looking forward to it love, he paused, and then added. Drive careful, I love you Pumpkin.

I love you too Dad, after a few more goodbyes I swiped to end the call. Pumpkin. It had been a long time since he’d called me that, and even though I was twenty six years old it made me feel like I was six again. As I set the table for one and sat to eat alone I thought about all the good times that Dad and I had, prior to Theresa. I didn't remember my mum, it had always been just dad and I until Theresa came on the scene. Right from the start we’d butted heads. She didn't even pretend to like me or put in any effort where I was concerned. Not that I cared. I didn't like her either and I had zero interest in getting to know her. To me she was the woman who came between my father, the only parent that I’d ever known, and me. I picked at my dinner, eventually pushing it away.  I thought about going back to Allenby. Sure, I’d been there two months ago when I went to visit dad, but I’d spent two hours sharing a meal with him at the pub then I left again. Maybe this time I’d take my time and look around a bit more, see if the place had changed any. Not that I think it would have. Allenby wasn’t a small hick town, not like Shelton or Winton, but it wasn’t a huge city either. Big enough for a couple of shopping malls, plenty of restaurants, a couple of movie theatres and more than enough schools.

Schools, arrggghhh, high school in Allenby, that had been the worst time of my life. Okay, maybe not the worst time. Just the last year, well, the last six months of my last year. I didn’t want to think about that time of my life. It was so humiliating, thanks to one person in particular. Okay, maybe two, I had to share some of the blame. But still, its not like I set out to humiliate myself, I had no idea that was his plan. Man, I was so naïve. Looking back now I could see that I was so stupid. There was no way that a guy like Tyler Gamble would be interested in me. I should have known that it was all just a sick joke to him and his friends. Still, that was ten years ago and I hadn’t seen him since that night. The fact that he played me for a fool hadn’t stopped me thinking about him every now and again though, so what did that make me? A desperado? No, it wasn’t like I was pining after the guy. It wasn’t like I had feelings for him. Not now anyway. He’d been the object of a major crush when we were in high school but that was it, and who didn't think about their high school crush every now and again? Besides, if he looked anything like he did in high school then he’d be some hot as hell hunk by now, and he’d more than likely have a supermodel wife and a couple of little angel faced kids. Yep, a guy like that would never be interested in a girl like me.

I sat back on the couch and flicked on the telly, not only would someone like Tyler Gamble not be interested in a girl like me, I was starting to think no one would ever be interested. Lets face it, I wasn’t exactly what most would consider beautiful, borderline pretty maybe. And there was a possibility that I may have been carrying a few extra kilos, maybe, perhaps. If I had to put myself into a category, and I hated categories, it’d have to be the friend not girlfriend category. I was always the girl who was everybody’s friend, but not the sort of girl that you wanted as a girlfriend. Sure, I had heaps of friends, both male and female, but I wanted more. I was entitled to more wasn’t I? I’d been a bridesmaid three times now, and I was godmother to two adorable little kids, but I wanted more. I wanted the wedding with the gorgeous groom, hell, I’d settle for a living, breathing groom. I wanted the babies, the big family Christmas, the birthday celebrations that consisted of more than a cupcake with a candle in it at a restaurant as I had dinner with the girls.

Actually, back up a little, the groom had to be more than living and breathing, he had to look half decent. No big bushy beard, and no nervous twitch. A little bit of muscle would be good, at least enough to make it through a session of hot shower sex without his knees buckling, resulting in us both ending up in a heap on the shower floor. A tattoo or two would be nice, as long as it wasn’t a heart with his mum’s name in the middle, or worse, an ex’s name. And some nice biceps, ones bigger than mine would be good. There was nothing appealing about a man that couldn’t hold his own in an arm wrestle with a girl, and I did love a good set of biceps, they were definitely my weakness. I let out a long sigh. If only I could conjure up the perfect man.

––––––––

Saturday morning at the bakery turned out to be okay. I wasn’t sure if it was because Tiffany wasn’t there or if it was the fact that a For Lease sign had appeared in the window of the old butcher shop on the next block over. It’d make the perfect bakery. It was closer to the centre of town than Tiffany’s and it had a huge bay window to display cakes and pastries. If the cool room was still in working order that would be a bonus too. Yep, there was a definite zing in the air today and by the time I left work and headed for Allenby I was on one of the biggest natural highs I’d had in a long time. Usually it took copious amounts of alcohol to make me feel this good, but not today. Not even the trepidation of seeing my childhood home for the first time in ten years could bring me down. Nope, this was a good day, and it would remain a good day.

I kept telling myself this even as I pulled into a parking spot out the front of Dad’s workshop. This was a good day. The front of the workshop hadn’t changed much, nor had the home above the garage. Not from the outside anyway. I guess Theresa had made the inside her home, and I’d have to deal with that. Hey love, I looked over at Dad as he came out from the work bay. You’re early.

I’m late actually. I said I’d be here at three and its quarter past, I looked at him when he stopped in front of me. Things were still awkward between us and it was weird. Well, for me it was. But you’re still working. I can go for a drive around and come back.

No, no, I’ll just go clean up. I thought maybe you and I could cook dinner together, he looked and sounded nervous. If that’s okay with you?

I sucked in a breath and looked up at the place that I’d called home for the first sixteen years of my life. I wanted to reconcile with my father, I really did, so I was going to have to make things easier on him. I’d like that, I flashed him a huge smile then grabbed my bag from the back seat of my car. What are we cooking?

The smile on his face was golden. He was genuinely happy to have me here and that felt good. After all the years of missing him, of me thinking that he didn't want me here, it felt good to know that I was wrong. He took my bag and ushered me around the side of the workshop, to what we always called the front door to our house. Sure, it was at the side of the building but it was still the main entrance to our home. The front of the building had the main entrance to the workshop and the business office and reception area.

I stepped inside and looked around. Dad seemed to notice my hesitation at coming into my old home. He was jumpy and fussing about like a mother hen. I’ll put your bag in your room, before I could respond he’d dashed across the lounge room and down the short hallway. I looked around at the new couches, well, new since I left anyway. The walls were a different colour, one was half pink and half a chocolate colour. I’m in the middle of re-painting, he looked from me to the wall. Always hated that she made the walls pink, he looked away from me and gave a nervous laugh. Maybe you can help with the redecorating?

Yeah, maybe, I turned to the kitchen. The counter tops and cupboards were exactly as they were when I was a kid, but there was a new floor and the walls were pink. The pink definitely needs to go. I muttered under my breath.

Can I get you anything love? A cup of tea, coffee, maybe a cold drink? he was fussing about in the kitchen now.

Ah, a cup of coffee would be nice, while he was fussing about I took the time to study him, as in really study him. He looked old. I thought that when we met for lunch only two months ago, but now he looked tired. Dad are you okay?

He looked over his shoulder at me. I’m fine love. There was that nervous laugh again. You know, he handed me a cuppa then went back for his. I’ve been thinking about stepping back a bit, maybe cutting back on the hours that I do here at the garage and handing things over to Kenny.

He put a plate of biscuits in the middle of the table then sat opposite me. Really, I looked over my cup at him. Weren’t you always the guy who said that you’d never retire?

He laughed at that. You remember everything I said?

Most things, I sipped on my coffee and resisted the urge to take a biscuit. Those few extra kilo’s I was carrying weren’t going to just up and run off on their own, I did need to exercise a bit of self-control. So what will you do in your spare time then?  

I don't know, he shrugged. I could finish restoring the old FJ that’s been in the back yard for the last fifteen years, he shrugged again. Or I might go on a holiday, maybe you can join me?

There was something going on here. My father had always vowed to work until he was dead. No retirement, no holidays, no down time for him. He always said if he wasn’t able to work then he didn't want to be here. Sure, I’d love to go on a holiday with you, where should we go?

For the rest of the afternoon we talked about holiday destinations, his retirement, my bakery, and lots more. While we cooked dinner he told me about his friend Kenny and the other mechanics that worked in the garage. His best friend for the past thirty years had worked there too, but he mostly did the books and the payroll, until he shot through with Theresa that was. That was so like Dad, he was too soft and couldn’t let his friend be out of work so he made a job for him. And why not? The garage was always busy. They were booked out most days and the guys were always working Saturdays as well. About the only person that Dad didn't talk about was Theresa. I was just about to ask if he’d heard from her when there was a knock at the door. Ah, right on half six, that’ll be Kenny, he was busy pulling the roast from the oven. Can you go let him in love?

Sure, I turned off the burner that was heating the gravy then headed for the door. Saturday night with two old men, man I loved my life. I plastered on my cheery face as I opened the door. Hi, I stopped mid sentence. Holy shit. As in holy, thong melting, mouth drooling, ovary scrambling shit. Uh hi, I managed to get out again. Tyler Gamble, what are you doing here? I stopped speaking before I added how hot he was looking.

Ah, your dad invited me here for dinner, he held up a bottle of wine. So do I get to come in or not?

Uh sure, I stepped back and let him in.

How are you Nat? It’s good to see you, he looked me up and down and smiled. Smug bastard. You’re looking well.

Really? Nice of you to say so, even if it is a lie, I closed the door behind him. Dad said his friend was named Kenny.

Yeah, that’s what all the old guys call me, you know, Kenny Rodgers had that song called The Gambler, he shrugged. I guess they think it’s funny. And it wasn’t a lie, you look really good. I looked at him as I took the wine. Was he serious? Surely not. No, I wouldn’t be fooled by him and his smooth ways again. He’d humiliated me once, it wasn’t about to happen a second time. And it’s good to see you again.

Really? I shook my head.

Yeah really, he sounded unsure now, just like Dad did earlier. Nat, he reached for my arm as I walked away. When I spun to look at him our eyes locked for a few seconds before I looked down at his hand on my arm. Are we okay?

I pulled my